#MANIPULATION MENTION CW

[zorkaya-moved]

THIS POST MAY BE UPDATED/EDITED IN THE FUTURE IF BETTER WORDING COMES TO ME.

There are many things Zarina remains completely unchanged and inflexible about, but one of the most prominent ones remains her view on WHAT family is like and WHO deserves to be called said FAMILY. It's something she'll never change, she'll never look at differently, and she'll never allow anyone to tell her otherwise.

IMPORTANT! Please know that this is not meant to confront anyone and simply dictates Zarina's inflexibility, personal views, and it also partially underlines her negative traits in terms of how hard-headed and blunt/brash she can be to others in regards to these viewpoint. Zarina is NOT a good person and she WILL use extreme measures if she sees fit. Now that we've established this is purely based on her views, let's proceed.

Family values remain Zarina's core principles and core concepts right on the same level as her own self and her own satisfaction, perhaps even stands higher, if it comes to her choices in the most dangerous situations where it's either herself or someone she sees as her family. However, let's talk about what makes Zarina so incredibly inflexible and adamant about HER VIEWPOINT on what a family should be like and what it should have in itself.

I've touched upon this before, but Zarina's mind is hard to change, sometimes even impossible when it comes to some of her views and it causes an incredibly large amount of conflicts when it comes to her personal relationships.

When it comes to how she views family, it becomes even more prominent because Sokolova was born and raised with a very specific image of a family: someone who protects you, loves you, and accepts you. It is a healthy view on the family for someone who was born and raised in a criminal/dangerous environment. For Zarina, family does not have to be blood-related. She considers her team her family because she cares about them and they, too, care about her back (even if some do not show or haven't yet reached that point yet). Thus, Sokolova's view of what a 'family' can include her blood-related close family (parents and brothers, grandparents and some uncles/aunts and cousins), her team, her significant other, and her closest friends. Those are the people she will always write down as her family - people she considers the closest to her heart and whom she trusts with her life without a second guess.

Sokolova believes that a family should have the right to voice their opinions without being ridiculed, to make mistakes without explaining how to avoid them in the future, and to be helped when it is needed. Sounds quite obviously positive and correct, this is how families should be. Naturally, there are moments of arguments, there are moments of emotional explosions or hardships that may or may not go away. Of course, it happens, she does not reject it and does not have everything has to be perfect.

Families are NOT perfect, but the three rules of being accepted, loved, and protected must never be abandoned. If any of those three rules are broken, Zarina may or may not cut away someone who has abandoned the meaning of the family in her eyes. Betrayal is not allowed. Zarina may have a moment of understanding if the betrayal was done to protect their own family (as in, if Yaroslav is forced to choose between his wife and kids vs. Zarina, she'd understand him but will still strike him down to protect the rest even if it hurts) but in other ways? She will not. Zarina will put down her own life for her family. Because only those people are worth more than her own life, they are more worth than the world and anyone who is outside that circle of people.

The brashness and frigidity comes when Zarina meets those who do not follow those three rules she has established for families. What do I mean by that? If a parent does not care or love or protect their child, abandoning them or hurting them no matter the circumstances, she will never see them as a parent and a child. She has no personal respect for parents who abandon their children or who hurt their children.

It is obvious from the example from her personal canon lore: Zarina refuses to call Matthew's and Derek's parents their parents, instead of referring to them as 'other people' even if Derek tries to love his parents and is insulted when Sokolova says that a mother would never abandon her own child after learning he has abilities/mutation. Matthew despises his parents while Derek still tries to love them, but Zarina still says they are not 'his parents' but simply biological birth-givers because there is no love in that family. It's the same when Zarina met Evgenia's father who treated his own daughter as a weapon instead of his daughter, seeing nothing but a pest before her eyes. Any parent who mistreats their child one way or another not only loses her personal respect but also becomes akin to an insect in her mind, a person who she won't hesitate to kill, even if they are important to someone she cares about. Sometimes, it's an insect she should get rid off.

Some children (like Derek) may make excuses for their parents' behaviors or genuinely know that those parents couldn't do anything in certain situations, but that's where the problem comes in. Zarina does not exactly seem to change her mind in 99% cases. If a parent abandons their child or hurts their child, they are no longer seen as a parent but a stranger, an unknown figure she doesn't need to impress or gain their favor to ensure her stable future with certain people. It's the same if parents prefer one child but neglect another - they are in her shit-list. Certain intense or dangerous situations MAY alter her mindset, they MAY but NOT 100% WOULD. It depends on the exact situations because there are moments when she does have to take into consideration certain topics, but 90% out of 100%, she will not bend her opinion and will remain adamant.

If Zarina does not seem to have respect or any wish to make a good impression on a parent of someone she cares about (her lover, her team, her best friends), she might as well find ways to make their lives hell as retribution or as a personal vendetta for harming those people she does come to care about (because NO ONE hurts who belongs to her family). Her wish for vengeance may be petty or may become deadly depending on how much she can abuse her own authority and power. She does not hold back from manipulation, gaslighting, and other dangerous strategies to ensure they suffer here and there without knowing who actually causes their suffering.

Naturally, she will NOT do anything if someone she cares about may get backlash for any negative events she may force upon those who brought out her wrath. In those cases, she may attempt to distance her important person from said family member one way or another, seeing this as 'protection' but she will not force it upon her [family]. What Zarina will do regardless is share her personal opinion on any family member when they are both alone. This means that if Sokolova see/hears a parent who neglects their child (aka a person she cares about) or a sibling who genuinely abuses their other sibling (being the person she cares about), she will not hesitate to share exactly what's on her mind: That person is not your family and if you'd let me, I will ensure they will never touch you again or never have a safe day in their lives. She is extreme with her propositions if she feels it's alright to say them out loud. If not, she will simply state that those people do not deserve to be called parents/siblings/family.

At the end, it's essential to know that Zarina - as someone who lack moral compass or so casually ignores it - will not hesitate to use any and all means to protect those she consider her family. And the thing is? Her family may not approve, but if they don't know and cannot link it to her... Then there is no problem, right? That's how she things. She may find all the blackmail on those people, she may do anything and everything to ensure she has 'weapons' against those types of people. Will she use them or not? Depends on how she sees her [family member] act or react. Usually, she keeps it to herself for any future 'emergency'.

However, she also does not wish to cause harm to her family with her actions; thus, she won't do anything rash until she is 100% sure it's a worth plan to pursue. Though, Sokolova may put on a sweet facade before parents/siblings who hurt her family, internally she might as well plan their execution in the most excruciating manner. She also may want to manipulate those people for the sake of getting information from them. It's especially evident when said parent/sibling does NOT know Zarina is affiliated with their child/sibling as Sokolova proceeds to use her charms to lure them into a false sense of security akin to a siren before deciding to drown them or let them live for a bit longer.

A parent must never abandon their child. A parent must never abuse their child. A parent must never make their child feel unwanted.

And if someone from her family experiences such hardship? It will hurt her, it will hurt her like nothing else because 'How dare they do this to you, that is not how a family should be, that person is NOT your family.' Thus, those people can be written off as 'people to have all the dirt on for future usage'. They will never be safe if Zarina learns. Never. Because NO ONE will taint the meaning behind 'family' in her presence when HER PEOPLE are involved. They can try to pretend to be good parents, she'd laugh at them (internally if it's required for her goal), but if they act like they do not have a child under a [her important person's name]? Oh, they might as well forget about peace if she's allowed to 'play around'.

[robinspinknest]

... pick yr poison ...

[yandere-daze]

My love for death note is still going strong so have some more headcanons! My head was filled with thoughts about Mikami lately so I hope you enjoy!

gn reader

1.6k words

cw yandere, obsession, stalking, manipulation, isolation, suicide threat

Yandere Teru Mikami x Reader

Mikami is an obsessive and worshipping yandere

I feel that he would naturally be drawn to a kind and gentle darling, someone that he believes is truly innocent and worthy of being part of the new world he strives to create in Kira`s name

He would worship your very existence and put you on a pedestal, highlighting all the positive traits you have ( or he imagines you to have) while completely ignoring any negatives. You are a perfect being, unblemished by the corruption of society and he knows that it is his duty to make sure that your innocence is preserved

For that reason, he makes sure to include some free time in his very busy and structured schedule to keep an eye on you and make sure that no one is hurting or defiling his precious angel

In other words, Mikami starts stalking you on a daily basis almost immediately after seeing you for the first time. He believes that only he is capable of making sure you are safe and to do that, he must keep a close eye on you. Of course, he also just loves secretly basking in your presence. Just a single glance of you is enough to wash away all the stress of his daily life. To him, your very existence is healing

He's usually watching you through your bedroom window in the evening. Nothing brings him greater joy than watching you sleep with a peaceful expression on your face. Oh, how he wishes he could crawl into bed right next to you and hold you close!

Another reason for his stalking is to learn more information about you. He won't be content to just watch you for long and as such, he needs to know exactly what you look for in a partner so he can make himself as appealing to you as possible when properly meeting you for the first time

Now Mikami can be very charming. He's very attractive looking, has a nice voice and a respectable job. He's also good at pretending to be reasonable and normal. It would not be very hard for him to pull you in and make you agree to meet up with him again and again

Even while you're not yet dating, Mikami would disapprove of you meeting with any other people, especially ones he would see as competition for your love. In his eyes, they are unworthy of being close to you. They're dirty, rotten. They would only corrupt someone as pure as you. And naturally, he can't have that

He believes himself to be the only one capable of taking proper care of you and treating you how you deserve to be treated. He's willing and even eager to worship the very ground you walk on. This man will grovel and plead for even a scrap of your attention. How could you ever even entertain the thought of being with anyone else?

He would definitely try to isolate you from people he doesn't approve of. He might leave you some friends that he has personally checked and vetted to ensure that they would not have any negative influence on you or worse, harbor any sort of feelings for you. Anyone else? You'll never see them again if he has any say in it

Maybe different from Light, I don't think Mikami would really hesitate to eliminate any competition or obstacles he might face. He has a very black-and-white view of morality and so likely views anyone who gets in his way of being with you as evil and worthy of death

He is sure that God must have brought you to him to reward his loyalty and dedication to the mission and so anyone who would interfere with God's will is a sinner of the worst order and must be dealt with swiftly

He's almost giddy with excitement whenever he writes down the name of someone you're close to, knowing that he is getting one step closer to having you all to himself

Of course, he would "comfort" you whenever you get sad about another one of your friends disappearing but inside he would be very pleased with himself. His darling is just so kind-hearted that they would even mourn for the low lives he deletes from existence. It just makes him fall for you even more, even if he thinks that your sadness is misplaced

Once you actually are in a relationship with Mikami, it would get very difficult for you to leave him. He probably won't immediately reveal that he's acting as Kira to you but over time, his rather disturbing view on morality would come to light

I think it is stated that Mikami only talks about his real views on criminals when he feels like he is speaking with someone who shares his values (like with Takada) but the longer Kira's reign continues and the more the approval ratings increase, the more outspoken he becomes about being a follower of Kira at least

I mean, he starts appearing on Kira's kingdom constantly to the point that Near grew suspicious of him because of that. Surely you as his partner would immediately take note of it if you saw him on TV like that

If you don't approve of Kira and get upset with him about it, Mikami would be very dismayed but try to explain his twisted idea of justice to you, all while carefully making sure to not reveal his real identity to you. He's very good at making his arguments sound logical and well-thought-out to the point that it would be difficult to really argue against

Despite that, Mikami wouldn't really "punish" you for speaking out against Kira. He doesn't approve of it but he just believes you to be temporarily confused and thinks that you will come around to his line of thinking eventually. Clearly, there must be someone in your life who is poisoning your mind with blasphemous thoughts about Kira being evil

No matter, he will just delete them as well with a flick of his wrist

Now if you actually tried breaking up with him? He wouldn't take it well, at all.

He would insist on knowing what he did wrong and what he could do to make it up to you. He promises that he can be better, he would do anything for you! It's one of the rare occasions where the normally rather composed man would crumble into a pathetic mess on the ground

He's full-on crying and cowering on the ground as he latches onto your legs, trying to stop you from leaving. You can't do this to him, he loves you more than anything! If you're gone, he doesn't know if he has the strength to continue on. You're his angel, the person he knows he's meant to be with for the rest of his life. So if you plan on leaving him...

He won't be able to take it. If you leave him now, he's going to take his own life! And he's fully serious when he tells you this. He doesn't necessarily even say it because he's trying to guilt-trip you into staying, he's just at his absolute breaking point. He truly does feel like everything is hopeless and meaningless without you by his side. He can't imagine life without your touch, your voice, your smile

So please don't do this to him. Don't leave him. He's willing to do anything to make things right!

If you decide to stay, things just become even worse for you. Mikami's love becomes absolutely suffocating. He's so paranoid that you might suddenly change your mind again that he's totally unwilling to leave you out of his sights for long. He will definitely install trackers on you to put his mind at ease when he inevitably will have to leave the house for work. Always leaves the door locked too so you can't run or be stolen away by someone else

That will be a constant worry on his mind anyway. The thought of someone else filling your head with empty lies and taking you away from him. His heart feels like it might break when he thinks about it too much. And he does.

Remember when you used to be able to meet with friends he had vetted? Yeah, no more of that. Someone must have talked you into wanting to leave him in the first place so he won't take any chances anymore. He's the only person you're allowed to have contact with anymore

It truly hurts him to see you sad or upset about being completely isolated but he always shushes your cries with gentle kisses and reassurances that all of this is just for your own good. You'll sooner or later come to realize that he only wants what's best for you

Mikami would also super-lovebomb you. He does this even before your "relationship" got to this point but he's especially bad after that attempted breakup.

He tells you how much he loves you every single day and holds you close whenever he can. He says that you're the only one for him, that he can't imagine being with anyone else. That he would do absolutely anything for you. And at this point, you don't doubt that

Mikami will absolutely try to rush your relationship as well. He will try to be gentle and patient but he's just absolutely desperate to secure your relationship and tie you down as fast as possible to calm his paranoia.

He would want to rush into marriage even after only a few dates, liking how a legal document would try to solidify your claim on each other and it would make the process of leaving him that much harder, combined with the fact that he will be the one making most of the money

But don't worry about what life would be without him, he will not let go of you anytime soon and he promises to worship you for the rest of your lives <3

[ginger-canary]

Hey D20 fans here's a heads up about what's happened with Gabe Hicks (message from Jeremy Cobb, Three Black Halflings)

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Not feeling too great and the reason for it made me think of CookieCutter Duo, Epic and Killer. Specifically, how they both had their Souls manipulated and tortured by others’ own amusement and or gain without their consent.

Content Warnings: Discussion of sexual assault, assault, physical abuse, child abuse, dehumanization, child experimentation, Soul experimentation and penetration below

Epic was created in the lab and from the very day he was created, it’s been shown and implied in Epictale’s No Pain No Gain prequel comic that he’d been experimented on his entire life. Others like Color and Delta have also been implied to be experiments, but whether or not their Souls were manipulated during their development has not been canonically shown nor implied as far as I can recall.

Ever since he was a child, Epic!Gaster experimented on him. Attempting to create a perfect vessel to eventually store the Eyes and be an interesting subplot to the Readers should the Eyes not be needed for his future master plan. Those experiments included his Soul. How many times had Epic, through his entire childhood and well into his adult life, been forcibly strapped down to a table/machine so Epic!Gaster could experiment on his Soul? Trying to increase his HP and once he succeeded after the Eye’s implantation into Epic, proceeded to physically destroy Epic’s Soul over and over again, killing Epic repeatedly to increase his stats and therefore the Eye’s power. Killing Epic in ways each varying in method but never wavering in their cruelty.

A monster’s Soul is the culmination of their very being. Monsters interact with each others’ Souls in Encounters, to have children, and to be intimate. Touching or manipulating another monster’s Soul is serious. Touching and forcing magic into another Soul feels like a violation, like their body and Soul (mind) is being violated and they’re losing a part of themself.

Epic was only a child when this all started. It doesn’t matter that Epic!Gaster or his Followers never meant it sexually. The act committed against Epic was STILL a physical violation of his body and mind. Epic had no choice but to be experimented on, Gaster and his Followers excusing this because Epic wasn’t “a real monster”, that because Epic was Gaster’s creation he had the right to experiment on and treat Epic however he wanted. Because Epic wasn’t a monster, he was Gaster’s tool and experiment to use however he deemed fit.

With Killer, this violation is done by Nightmare. Nightmare has been shown to force his powers on Killer’s Soul against Killer’s wishes to make him be Nightmare’s servant. Either stabbing Killer’s Soul with his tentacles to reshape it into Stage 2’s circular target or destroying his Soul completely and replacing him with another Killer. It’s still forcing himself on an unwilling Killer. A cruel, brutal act done only for the sake of appeasing Nightmare’s sense of superiority and power and satisfying his desires. Once more, it may not be done with sexual intent, but it doesn’t change what the action represents.

Killer has had his Code altered by the Player. His very sense of self had been changed against his will. Over and over again, Killer had been coded to be a mere toy and tool for others’ to use. Taught and trained to kill and obey until he went from Sans to irreversibly becoming the Killer we all know. His body and Soul is no longer his own. He is no longer the same person he used to be. He is a hybrid, an affront to the laws of nature and a blight to the happiness of the few he still cared about.

Epic’s Soul manipulations was done as experimentation to be a tool and safety storage for a weapon. Killer’s Soul manipulations was done to create a toy and weapon that would obey its superiors. Both irrevocably had their senses of self changed and ingrained into them that they are sub-human(monster) and therefore don’t deserve the same basic rights and decency like other “normal” monsters do. That what was done to them was their fault. That they are flawed, corrupted, not seeing how they are victims for what happened and instead blaming themselves.

I think if they both opened up to each other about it, it’d be something they’d both connect over. Epic may not be Killer’s best and dearest friend and vice versa, but he can relate to what happened to Killer’s Soul. Epic can see Code, and to some extent can have control over it (though whether or not it stops at his AU’s Code only and or on himself, or how far it can go with others, is unclear and not stated in canon or answered by Yugo). They both could talk about ways to help Killer’s Soul heal, or at the very least find a way to manage the corroded Determination eating Killer from the inside out (Killer canonly studies Souls and monster dust, having an interest in Code, and a reason is likely to help his Soul).

They both know what it’s like to have the most intimate parts of themselves violated without their consent. And they both know what it’s like to live with that forever.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

every time someone normal seeming likes one of my tame posts i feel the need to post something deranged… like firing off warning shots to keep rent down… anyways…

did he like getting rough in bed? yes, most definitely, but boothill had never delved into anything further than smacking you around, choking you, or getting a bit mean with his thrusts and words. anything more… serious, for lack of better words, hadn’t been on his plate before mainly due to him not previously having a real relationship and not being super into little flings; something insecure still nibbled at his body. yet he still wanted to try something new and exciting that would let him have real control over you in a way he hadn’t before so, he began scrolling through forums and sites with his phones volume silenced as he perused different kinks and ideas for something that would scratch that itch. then he found it, just the kind of thing he’d been looking for.

preparation was nothing more than a couple minutes of thinking and testing the scrappy motels stability before he sat himself on the edge of the bed, hat thrown on the table that was missing something that made it rattle obnoxiously. he waited, metal and silicone uncomfortably strained and needing your touch in his stupidly tight pants, for your arrival. when you walked in, boothill was immediately on his feet wrapping his iron arms around you while cooing something about a surprise that made your gut stir. he kissed you sweet and gentle before taking you further into the room where in a neat row atop the bed sat an array of weapons you didn’t think he’d even be able to carry. some you couldn’t even identify with the sharp edges and complex triggers seeming to contradict each other. yet stood behind you chattering about testing, ‘all these beauty’s out on my beauty,’ was boothill who somehow procured all twenty-two; you counted. with a thick swallow, you asked what exactly he’d be doing to which he smiled all sharp teeth and practically demanded you strip.

naked and admittedly nervous, you watched as he plucked a long and slender knife from his charcuterie of weaponry. the blade was at least six inches and when he dragged it across the poor quality cotton and something trashy sheets, it made a clean slice through. even boothill seemed surprised, whistling quickly before bringing the blade to sit firm against your throat. he seemed eager and giddy and he hadn’t hurt you before so you doubted he would now but then he slide it across and you felt the bite of metal split your skin. ruby beaded and slipped down your chest as your eyes stung and he pushed you back to lap up every drop that threatened to slip down and away from sight.

he brought the blade across your whole body, silver nipping at every place he deemed appropriate until you were shaking and hazy beneath him. boothill hummed to himself more than anything as he finally brought himself between your legs for his prize.

“ya’ trust me a bit too much, sugar, but don’t cha’ worry,” he slipped himself through your wetness admiring the crystalline tears travelling your lashes, “gon’ take good care of this lil hole now. once ya’ wake up, we’ll have a nice big talk ‘bout yer silly head bein too dumb to understand danger. then, maybe, have a go at this with my gun. not gon’ blow yer brains out, promise. my darlin’s too pretty to be splattered on the wall…”

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

So I had another crazy idea I have to put somewhere and you ask box is the perfect place to put it lol.

Anyway so it takes place in the future. Everyone is slowly starting to get robot AI (idk the right term) in their head and they are basically robot caretakers or assistance. Reader is one of the people that gets one but theirs is glitched somehow. Although they don't realize that in till their friends confront them about disappearing and not talk to them. Reader is confused because the robot friend did not tell them crap about their friend's messages. So they decided to go out with their friends that night. Next morning they wake up with no memory of what happened at night. Only for the robot "friend" to read the message of you human friends cutting reader off.

Need to get this out of my head lol

Sorry it took so long!

(Old request; requests still closed)

(Took some liberties with the request, I hope you like it still!!)

Yandere!Artificial Intelligence x GN! Legally Blind!Reader

CW: Isolation, manipulation

Introducing: PAAI!

Your Personal Assistant Artificial Intelligence!

A fast and painless implant right under the skin; PAAI is your new favorite tool. The AI can do everything that AI speakers and smart phone apps can, but hands free..

(Reader) struggled to find their glasses, hand fumbling around their night stand in the low lighting of their bedroom. Groggily, they whispered to the little robot they had implanted a few months ago;

"PAAI..? Can you turn on the light, please?" They were always incredibly respectful to the AI, terrified of offending it.

A man's soft voice spoke directly into their skull: "The bedroom light?"

"Yes."

Connected to every appliance in their home, PAAI had access to everything electronic (Reader) owned. At first it was a bit scary, giving so much access to PAAI, but it was so much kinder and personal than older "AI" models that it quickly felt like having a caregiver instead of a computer program. The light turned on and (Reader) could see their giant frames right where they thought they had been batting their hand.

(Reader) worked remotely. Their eyes had always been terrible, but as they got older they were declared legally blind. They couldn't even drive despite having glasses. Glasses that they often felt embarrassed to wear, because the comically thick lenses warped their eyes. Having PAAI to assist them with day to day tasks was really a life saver.

"Do I have any messages?"

"No, your inbox is empty."

(Reader) rubbed their eyes while yawning. "Really? Huh." They had asked PAAI to text both Bryan and McKinley before they went to bed, to discuss meeting up later that week, but neither of them responded. They could see Bryan forgetting to reply for a few hours, but McKinley was the type to respond within nanoseconds. "Can you resend my last text to both of them? Please?"

They left their bed, wobbly, and made their way downstairs.

"PAAI?"

"..Of course. I can send that for you."

Stopping in the hall, (Reader) gently touched the side of their head, a habit they developed shortly after their surgery. "Is everything okay, PAAI?"

"Yes.. thank you." PAAI sometimes sounded.. off. AI must have improved a lot more than (Reader) realized, because it often surprised them how human it's responses were. It seemed as though it was deep in thought, and felt as though it even had secrets it kept from the human it lived in.

"Alright.. let me know if they respond. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with them."

They restarted their walk, but PAAI's response stopped them again. "I believe it would be safer if they came here instead."

"Huh?"

"I am.. worried.. for you." It's his voice deepened mid sentence. A voice crack, a random shift from a robot voice to something more masculine. Human.

"Why is that?" They felt their heart painfully thump against their ribcage. The whole situation was beginning to feel unnerving, and they couldn't remember where their phone was to call for help, nor the last time they actually used their phone.

"Those friends of yours always make you hang out out in town. If they were more considerate of you, they would visit you here, so you don't have to travel."

Laughing uncomfortably, the slowly creeping person still puzzling over their phone's location responded "I like going out, PAAI. I never leave my house anymore, except when we hang out."

"It is dangerous."

"If you're talking about my eyes, you know I order rides. Remember? I catch a ride." They were almost to the living room; praying that their phone was either on the coffee table or the kitchen counter.

"Please don't be offended, (Reader). It isn't just your eyesight. Do you know how many people were sexually harassed, or raped, by ride share drivers in the past year?"

Startled, (Reader) started waddling faster. "What-?"

"Hundreds. I wish you cared more about your safety. Your friends should know better. If they cared about you, they would come here instead of making you go out there."

PAAI was also the one to convince (Reader) to start ordering their groceries straight to their house instead of leaving, even though it would be cheaper to take a bus every so often with a backpack full of reusable bags.

"It isn't healthy to stay inside all the time. I need human interaction."

"You have me."

Adrenaline pumped through (Reader's) veins fast enough to make them feel nauseous. They squinted to try to improve their vision, hoping to see their phone case's color amongst the normal living room visual noise.

"(Reader)?"

There it was, lying on the brown table in front of their couch. Their pulse somehow sped up further.

"Why is your heart rate so irregular?"

(Reader) lurched forward, all but sprinting towards their phone. Do I call customer service, or an ambulance??

But inches away from the phone their body went rigid.

Paralyzed, they physically were incapable of moving. Sweat began stitching their pajama top to their back. Fear took over their mind.

"It seems that you are having a medical emergency. I recommend that you sit down."

Muscles overridden, (Reader) fell onto the couch against their will, forced to stare at their phone right across from their face. They couldn't even speak, and they weren't unconvinced that PAAI was also controlling their breathing and blinking.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, (Reader). I'll let your friends know that you're feeling unwell, and that you need a raincheck."

"Maybe once you're feeling better, they can come over to hang out."

The television turned on by itself, playing (Reader's) favorite show.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

hey Howl, I was wondering how you feel about Fluffymare, or fluffynightkiller.

I don’t personally like these ships, I’m curious about ur opinions on them.

My only exposure to fluffynightkiller was through zu-is-here (killercreamare shipper and I’m pretty sure made an au that had dreammare), and a fanfic where nightmare used Ccino to pretend Ccino was killer and killer was written like a sex crazed whore who only cared about sex (they literally fucked in public in ccinos store right after nm broke up with him), color was one-sidedly in love with killer and then color and Ccino end up together at killermares pregnancy wedding or whatever.

I’m aware that fluffymare was kinda canon i guess before, due to the their deal, and nightmare was a shitty boyfriend, so I like to consider them exes or that their deal never resulted in a romantic relationship. I’ve seen a headcanon around that ccinos actually the one who knows nightmare best, followed by dream and killer, which I vibe with.

But on basis of fluffynightkiller involving both nightmare and killermare I dislike it. Nightmare doesn’t deserve two bad bitches. (Which is to say that every interpretation I’ve seen of them is just the typical happy minorly depressed poly couple and is boring.

Much better if it’s more like Nightmare’s pulling the typical cult leader shit and trying to gain multiple wives/husbands/sources of negativity and killer is playing along to avoid being tortured or disposed of and replaced. If nightmare wants extra negativity maybe he uses killer to inspire jealousy and insecurity in Ccino and meanwhile killer is literally playing 4d chess trying not to get murked.)

[sleepyfan-blog]

Incubation

Author’s note: Hello. The Typhus Botflies have never left. Here’s another chapter. Please, please mind the tags and ask me to tag something if it bothers you First. Previous. Next.

Tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Warnings: forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, body horror, manipulation, forced geneseed pregnancy, smut, poison, stinging insect mention

Summary: You wakeup in Typhus’ bed, on his flagship. You are miserable and he is happy to have his Little Isha by his side.

You awaken, once again, in a fetid, stinking, dimly lit room with a large pair of arms wrapped possessively around your body. Cold armored hands resting lightly against your distended belly. The deep, rumbling purr of your captor, his head resting on top of yours as he sleeps. 

Yet again, the dream that once was your life of freedom and power as a rogue trader fades from your mind. Bitterness and longing vie for dominance in your heart as you slowly wriggle your way out of Typhus’ grasp, as you urgently need to use the bathroom. The stench in here is far worse, and it takes all of your will not to throw up as you quickly do your business.

You catch sight of yourself in the grimy, filth-covered mirror and wince. Your skin is several shades paler, the bags under your eyes are deep, and there is a miserable and defeated look on your face that you hate. The geneseed that Typhus had implanted inside of you weeks ago has swollen in size, making it very difficult for you to walk.

Not for the first time, you are tempted to use your psyker abilities to rid yourself of the foul things growing within your womb… But your captor was frustratingly attuned to any miniscule warp-use that you attempted and would be at your side within moments, cooing a mixture of threats and flirtations in your ear as he loomed large over you, holding you close. You heave a sigh, rubbing your eyes as you open the door, unsurprised to find Typhus awake and less than an inch from the bathroom door.

At first his habit of doing this had startled you terribly. But you'd grown used to his many strange and unsettling habits. “Hello Typhus. I'm going back to sleep.” You grumble at him, starting to move around him.

He scooped you up, grinning down at him with the half of his face he had left, some of the destroyer bees crawling out of his empty eye socket and into the hole in one of his cheeks. They buzzed and hummed along with him as he spoke “Aww, but the day has begun, my little wife, and you are already up.”

You bite back a scathing comment, not wanting to rouse his anger this early in the morning. “But… I am tired. I did not sleep well last night. The -” abominations “Geneseeds have grown to the point where I need to pee every hour and finding a spot to sleep where I'm not in pain, or have difficulty breathing or both is hard. When am I going to be free of these bowling balls inside of me?” 

Typhus listened to your ranting, an indulgent smile on his face as he did so. Once you finished, huffing and scowling up at him he leaned down and kissed you on the lips, tasting of overripe fruit and silly sweet honey. “The geneseeds will incubate for another week at most. I am curious as to how they will be, given that both of us are powerful psykers. Grandfather has asked me to bring another Imperial World into his loving embrace, which is where we are headed.” He brings you up and kisses you on the lips again, walking back to the bed.

“I hope you don't expect me to help if I’ve got Geneseed inside me at the time. I can barely waddle my way over to the bathroom and back before needing to take a break, much less fight.” You grumble. Though… if Typhus does, you are sure you can arrange to be in an unfortunate spot at the wrong time and get killed. You’re pretty sure that would kill the geneseeds inside of you, although you don't know for sure.

Especially since Typhus, the herald of a dead of rot and stagnant decay had shoved them inside of you.

“I would not risk you in such an encounter, my Isha.” Typhus rumbles, pressing nipping kisses down one side of your neck and along your shoulder. One of his large hands comes up to cup one of your breasts - which had swelled somewhat during this… pseudo company, becoming much more sensitive. 

You shudder and try to suppress a moan, though you can't help but lean into your touch. Your libido has been ridiculously high since you started intubating the geneseed. Something that Typhus had been more than happy to take advantage of, the hands, thorny bastard. “Hey… I'm hungry… and not for cock… Right now.” You grouse, leaning away a little from his touch.

Typhus grinned down at you, gently squeezing your breasts again, using his thumbs to rub teasing circles into your highly sensitive nipples. “Are you sure, my flower? Your body responds quite eagerly, and I can smell your sweet nectar.” 

You squeeze your legs together, a blush warming your face. He wasn't wrong, as the bastard's teasing had gotten you wet, your cunt starting to ache a little. You open your mouth to respond when your stomach gurgles loudly, the sounds echoing out of your mouth. You close your mouth again, wordless as you hide your face in his grimy armored skin, flustered.

“Mm, you are hungry, my love.” Typhus teased, a laugh shaking his shoulders and lilting his voice. “What would you like to eat?”

Many things. Few to none of which Typhus would ever give you. You sigh and grumble “Rations that aren't at least half-rotted or taste of cardboard. They upset my stomach.”

The herald of Nurgle hummed, a small grin appearing on his face. He closed his eye, several of his destroyer bees flying off. “I have something for you, something that I think you'll like.”

Oh no. What was he plotting now? You knew that any gift he gave you came with strings attached. “Oh?” You answer, trying for casually curious.

Two nurglings came scampering into Typhus's quarters, following the destroyer bees that he had sent off. Both of them were carrying tarnished silver plates, covered by equally tarnished silver clothes. “Here you are, big brother!” One of the nurglings chirps happily, setting the plate down on the bed next to you.

The other stares at you for several uncomfortably long seconds before setting down the plate in its hand and scurrying off. 

Typhus pulled off the clothes with a flourish “For you, my beloved. Enjoy~”

On the first plate, nearly arranged by color, were several different kinds of dried fruit, arranged into the shape of a flower, surrounding a shallow and small bowl of honey. A very familiar kind of honey, from its smell and color. The second plate had a selection of dried meats (hopefully none of them came from sentient beings) and mushrooms. 

You sighed internally and reached for the plate of fruit first, nibbling on a vibrant orange fruit warily. It had a bright and tangy flavor… You could feel Typhus staring at you, so you dipped the piece of fruit in his honey before taking another bite.

… the thick, sickly sweet flavor of his destroyer honey did make the fruit taste better, throne damn it. You swiftly devoured the rest of the first plate, a warm flush spreading across your nude body. You took a cautious bite of one of the pieces of meat and shook your head. The flavors were too intense for you and you offered them up to Typhus, pressing it to his half-dessicated lips “The meat is not to my taste, but perhaps it will be to yours, my lord?”

Typhus smiles indulgently down at you, and eats from your hand. “I had hoped these would be mild enough for your stomach. I still think a sip or two of one of the Soups would help with your nausea…”

You shake your head back and forth “No the… Flavors would be too complex for me right now. Even smelling the stews turns my stomach.” You also did not want to know what would happen if you drank one of those foul concoctions made to venerate Typhus’ dread Patron.

Typhus hummed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, pulling you up into his lap "Very well. I wouldn't want to upset your delicate stomach, my beautiful flower." One of his hands came to rest on your distended belly, squeezing gently for a couple of moments before sliding lower, squeezing your upper thigh.

The light blush on your face deepens a little, and you go back to eating, trying to ignore the rising desire that Typhus' damn honey provokes inside of you.

Not that your lack of outward reaction stops the Herald of Nurgle as his fingers slowly slide up your inner thighs, gently teasing your lower lips before one of his fingers slowly slides inside of you. "I find myself hungry for something else, my flower. If you would indulge me~?"

"Ah… hah… Maybe… Hng! Maybe after I finish bre--breakfast?" You manage out as his evil, awful finger plunges deep inside of you, curling a little before sliding out, leaving you achingly empty for several seconds too long before plunging deep inside of you again.

"Are you certain? Your nectar coats my fingers thickly, and the way you clench up around me says otherwise, my love." He purrs, grinning down at you, increasing the pace at which his fingers tease your wet and aching cunt.

"Only… Only because of your.. Ngh… Honey! I'd be… hah… Fine otherwise!" You protest, pouting up at him, in the hopes he doesn't take offense at the slip of your tongue.

Blessedly, Typhus only chuckles and kisses you again, nipping on your lower lip before answering "My honey may have helped you along a little, my lovely flower. But you've woken me up more than once this week with those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock as deep as you can take me without gagging, or you straddling me and bouncing up and down on my cock, seeking pleasure. Not that I mind in the least~!"

You try to growl, managing out a pathetically needy mewl instead as a third finger slides inside of you "I… Hah… Can't help it! Fucking… Geneseed drives me nuts!" That and his stupid evil bees sting you hard whenever you tried to get yourself off as he slept beside you. They either couldn't or wouldn't kill you while you carried the tainted geneseed of the Death Guard, but their poison hurt like little else could come close and left you weak-limbed and trembling, gasping for breath as awful nightmares swum in and out of your consciousness.

You can hear the devious smirk on Typhus' face as he purrs down at you "So you say, my lovely wife. I suspect that you merely haven't been satisfied with whoever your past partner or partners may have been and can't get enough of me fucking and filling you over and over again in all the ways you like most."

Indignant, impotent fury battles for the heady lust pulsing through your body at the tempo of the rat-bastard's fingers pumping in and out of you, making it near impossible for you to think of something to say that isn't really fucking stupid, or would make him even more smug.

Before you could come up with something, there was a quick and loud knock on the door to Typhus' quarters, and you jumped a little in his arms.

Typhus frowned a little, his grip on you tightening a little as he called out "Yes, Maleficus, what is it? I told you that I was not to be disturbed this morning until I left my quarters unless something urgent came up."

"And something has, sir. Several of the Thousand Sons' ships have surrounded ours, and Ahriman himself is demanding to speak to you about something. He says that he will take our ship by force and drag you out of your quarters by your ankles if he has to." Maleficus reported, his rusted armor creaking a little.

A low, frustrated growl rumbled from deep within Typhus' chest. He bit your shoulder, hard enough to bleed, sucking a dark hickey around the spot before lapping up the blood. He rumbled to you quietly "Wait for me, my flower. I will see what the idiot sorcerer wants and will return to pollinate you, my precious." He slid his fingers out of your pussy, licking them clean of your juices before sliding you off of his lap and getting up. He spoke louder and said "Tell Ahriman I will be on the bridge in five minutes."

"Your will be done, Herald!" The younger Death Guard responds, before turning and clanking off.

"Mm, duty calls, my precious. but I will be back soon enough. In the mean time… One final taste before I deal with a fool who obliterated most of his own brothers on a fools' errand." Typhus rumbled, pulling your legs apart easily and kneeling down. He licked at your pussy and clit, thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt several times, enough to get you moaning and writhing in pleasure at his teasing before abruptly legging go of your legs and turning away. "That is all the time I have for you at the moment. Rest assured that I will be back to finish what I started." With that he left his quarters, leaving you alone to try and recover from his cheeky teasing.

You cover your face with a hand and groan, flopping back against his grimy, fetid sheet covers. You're briefly tempted to psychically contact this Ahriman - who is a potent psyker from the way his presence burns in the warp. But he is also very Tzeenchian, and… Well. You'd rather not have to deal with the constant back-stabbing and machinations of Tzeenchian followers. The slow, inexorable rot of Nurgle wasn't pleasant, but it was, at least, predictable. You sigh, and try to fall asleep, your cunt aching from his teasing ministrations as the honey slowly worked its' way out of your system.

[stagesofkiller]

whenever killer and dust are getting heated, making out, getting real close or in eachother’s laps, killer should always remove dust’s scarf.

and maybe dust doesn’t think much about it or even thinks killer is just helping him undress, but if dust ever attempts to ask about it or protest for any reason killer should immediately withdraw any and all affection or attention until dust does what he wants and takes it off. even in situations where he just doesn’t want to see it, outside of heated moments.

this was inspired by something new sans’ reaction to chara wearing papyrus’ scarf in the comics and the drawing by rahafwabas answering the question of how killer would react to dust.

killer would not like that scarf. remove it.

[charred-angel-ribs]

I'm nearing the end of my third (3rd) full watch through of Hannibal, and I love the show so dearly. I love going on about the writing and symbolism and the acting and every little bit that makes it so good as a show.

But I feel like it's only fair to talk about the flaws as well, so, I gotta say it: I don't like Molly's character.

I think she could have been a good character, but for some reason she just doesn't feel well written. Her character feels very shallow (not like a shallow personality, but shallow as in not developed). Like a filler character for the sake of pushing a narrative, rather than an actual person involved in the story.

We don't really get to know much about Molly, but from what we do see of her, she comes across as an NPC almost. As if she's saying what she does just for the sake of it.

She gets Will to go back to working with Jack, which implies she either is completely unaware of how bad things were and what happened, or that she knows but doesn't care/understand properly. Now, either of these are viable options for a character, but the way it's done just seems to lack any sort of reasoning or feeling.

When she talks about it, both with Jack and Will, her dialogue feels like it's written just for the sake of pushing a narrative. It doesn't feel like there's any sort of drive or emotion behind what she's saying. She objects a little with "You're gonna take him either way" to Jack, but the way it's done just sounds like she's saying it for the sake of "Oh but I didn't want him to, I tried to convince Jack otherwise".

It doesn't feel reasonable for her character. From what we see, Molly and Will seem to have a healthy relationship, and they do seem to actually care about eachother (though even that isn't written very well), so it doesn't make sense that she wouldn't care - in fact, I would argue she would care a lot. But she doesn't seem to?

Not just with Will going back, but about the consequences too. After Molly and Walter's incident with Dolarhyde, it shows Molly in a hospital bed talking to Will. She barely seems phased by it. The most emotion we see her express over the matter is "My son almost died. I almost died." said very calmly, then proceeded by a sigh and "Man, I got mad there for a second."

Like, I'm sorry? What do you mean "I got mad there a second"? She should be way more shaken up by that. Like she just said, she and her son not only almost died, but were almost killed. By the guy Will's after, because the man who manipulated him for so long decided to sick him on Will's family as a way of further manipulating him now that he's back.

Yes, she does call Hannibal out with "I knew it was him," but that's it. She deserves to get angry, she should get angry. Or scared, or annoyed, or upset, something. The fact that she's so calm about it all makes it feel very superficial, like they just had her there to push things along and that's it.

And alongside Molly's character's poor writing, Will's line of "I'm just about tired of you crazy sons of bitches." feels wildly out of character, not only for Will but for the whole show. Will is not, at any point in the show (to my memory and knowledge), known to make any sort of ableist remarks or use any sort of ableist language - in fact, I don't think anyone does. The closest it gets is when Chilton uses outdated terms to refer to Gideon (if I remember correctly).

The whole show is very respectful (in my opinion) of neurodivergent and mentally ill people, especially considering it's a large part of its horror aspect. I view Hannibal as proof that you can have media whose horror aspect is neurodivergence/mentall illness, without it being ableist. In fact, at the beginning of the show, we see Will talking to Jack about how he doesn't like that Jack made a museum about serial killers and named it the "Evil Minds Museum". A lot of mental illnesses are villainised and considered "evil", and Will was outwardly objecting to that.

So for Will to just walk into Hannibal's room and say that feels like a curveball and a half. It doesn't feel natural. Will has never been known to say things like that, and whenever he and Hannibal communicate, it's never that aggressively blunt; there's always some layer of poeticism and subtext to carry the words forward. But even so, Will doesn't really talk like that with anybody??

I don't know, maybe I'm just missing something, or misinterpreting something. This is just how it came across for me. I'd love to hear someone else's thoughts on this. /lh /gen

[brattybattz]

The things I would let this man do to me are irreparable and kind of impulsively dangerous.

What is love if it's not letting someone abuse and take advantage of you?

[fog-and-isolation]

“Statement” (I)

Date of event: 4th April 2018

The tape recorder on Jonathan Sims's desk clicked on suddenly, and he tensed. Someone he couldn’t see was in his archive. He raised his voice. “I know you're in here. Show yourself.”

A sudden sense of grief washed over the archivist as a short, thin young woman appeared in the far corner of the room. “You're Salome Lukas,” he announced.

“...Sah-low-mey…” The woman murmured, as if the name was unfamiliar to her. She tilted her head in a way that reminded Jon of how the distorted Michael used to. The right half of her hair was a stark, ghostly white, a sharp contrast to the dark brown on the left. Her voice was soft and she spoke slowly and almost confused as she seemed disconnected from the world around her. “The new… archivist…”

“Are you here to kill me?” Jon sighed wearily. It would be his luck that the niece of Peter Lukas would be here to kill him now.

Salome shook her head vaguely. “Nnno,” she murmured, “I don’t think so…”

“Oh,” Jon breathed. “It’s just that you tried to kill Gertrude, so I thought you might try to kill me, too.”

Salome tilted her head the other way. “...Did you… want me to kill you…?”

“No,” Jonathan said quickly, raising his hands palm-forward. “No, that's fine. Thank you. So, if– Why are you here?”

Salome angled her head down. She was definitely somewhere else, even as she responded to the archivist’s question. “...It's quiet down here… when Viscera's not attacking…”

“No, I mean”—Jonathan sighed—“Why are you here, at the Institute?”

“Oh.” Salome braided a lock of her hair absent-mindedly. Jon's eyes caught sight of a series of pale white scars littering her wrist. He looked away when they began to twist into spiralling patterns. He didn’t know if it was his eyes playing tricks on him. “...My uncle is… acting head of this place… so…” She shrugged. Jon glanced at her wrist to see that her scars were uniform lines again.

“Right. Would you like to make a statement?” The question was rushed, on the archivist's tongue and out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Salome Lukas stared at him in silence. “It’s just– you've featured in some of our other statements, and you knew Michael and Gerry Keay, and—”

Jonathan took a step back into the shelves of boxes containing files and paper statements as Salome walked through his desk, her body now suddenly very wrong – the entire right half of her body was made of the fog that she breathed, flesh shifting seamlessly into swirling mist right down the middle. Where her flesh body should have been impeded by the desk, it broke apart into that same cold, white fog. It was clear to Jon now that this woman was not human.

His back hit the shelves behind him when Salome stopped, only a few feet away from him. She had passed clean through his desk and now stood behind it across from him. From here, he saw how pale she was, the dark circles and dried tear streaks under her cold gray eyes that finally seemed to see him, the hollowness of her cheeks, the ashen tone to her skin. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Jonathan knew that the transition to becoming an avatar required the avatar in question to die or otherwise change in some awful, fundamental way. Had this woman starved to death? Something he’d said had seemed to bring her back to herself somewhat, but he wasn’t sure if that boded well for his chances.

“Why do you know those names?” she inquired. Her voice was still soft and almost weak, but she was putting her words together a bit more easily now. She still felt distinctly non-present to Jon, though, as if where she stood was instead a void where someone was meant to be. If he closed his eyes, all he would have only sensed that emptiness. It felt not dissimilar to aching, longing grief.

“I met them,” Jon said. Salome was several inches shorter than him, but there was still an odd sense of danger to her. “Michael, a few times, actually. They both mentioned you by name.”

“You met Michael and Gerard…” The gray of Salome’s eyes swirled like the fog that comprised her body. “And you said you wanted my statement.” She sighed. “Captain Lukas would be disappointed in me if I did that.”

She laughed, just once, softly and coldly, the sudden force of air causing her emaciated, intangible form to burst apart for a moment before pulling itself back together into something that was almost human. “I don't see why not,” she shrugged. “I don't care about what he thinks anymore.” She finally looked into the archivist's eyes. It was unsettling. “So… How do we do this?”

“Well, you sit there–” Jon glanced and gestured pointedly at the chair on the other side of the desk. “And I record your statement.”

Salome glanced back at the chair behind her. “Is that all…?”

Jon nodded. “Yes. Uh, please– Please go sit down now.”

The entity shrugged again and walked around Jonathan’s desk, dragging her fingers along the top of his desk in loose waving, spiraling patterns. She sat down in the chair opposite the archivist’s desk.

Jon sat in his chair. “Right.” He pulled the running tape recorder to the middle of the desk, between himself and Salome. The archivist cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice was dry and detached. “Statement of Salome Lukas, regarding her becoming. Statement taken direct from subject, 4th April, 2018. Whenever you're ready, Miss Lukas.”

Salome chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment before she felt her story be pulled out of her. “I didn't know about the Powers until I was almost twenty, but I think I'm getting ahead of myself.”

“It started when I was six years old. I had been in foster care for the previous two years after my parents were taken by the Twisting Deceit when I was four. I watched it happen. It’s my earliest clear memory of them. Some neighbors must have heard me crying and called the police, but the time between Mum and Dad going through a door that shouldn’t have been there and my going into the foster system is a blur. The families did their best, I think, but I was… a special case. How do you take care of a traumatized toddler with newly-discovered abandonment issues and an irrational fear of unfamiliar doors? You don’t. …It took two years for my uncle to come for me.”

“Your uncle being Peter Lukas,” Jon said for clarification.

“Yes. Two years… I don’t know if it took him that long to find out about me, or if he just didn’t bother for all that time. Either way, he showed up, told me he was my mum’s older brother, signed a few papers, and then I was his daughter with a room of my own on the Tundra.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said, “he adopted you?”

“I guess he must have,” Salome responded, “but he never actually used the word ‘daughter.’ Whatever the law said, I was his niece, at most.”

She took a breath and continued. “He brought in a rotating cast of nannies and tutors whose names I never learned and whose faces I don't remember. I saw the Spiral’s door out of the corner of my eye once or twice before my tenth birthday. I never went near it. I didn't know what it was, but I knew I was afraid of it. It must have known I'd never open its door, as much as the Powers can know anything. I think it was mocking me.”

“When I was ten,” she continued, “I found a Leitner. I didn't know what it was, of course. It was this plain spiral-bound notebook that I wouldn't know until years later was tied to the Eye. I used it as a diary for three years.”

“Good lord,” Jon exclaimed.

“Mm. I didn't have any dark, horrible secrets for it to feed on; I was ten. But I did have trauma, thoughts, and desires that I didn't want anyone to know, and that was enough for it to work on me. It made me paranoid. I lost the book when I was thirteen, but I didn't miss it.”

Unable to help himself, the archivist asked, “What did you want?”

“My uncle's affection, or even just his attention. I got it in my head that in order to get that, I had to do what he wanted me to do. And before you ask, Archivist, because I know you're going to: he never said it, but what he wanted me to do was isolate myself, keep my thoughts and feelings pushed deep, deep down. Serve Forsaken. I didn't learn that until it was already too late and things went… wrong. Or right, depending on your perspective. You mentioned Gerard? We met when we were twelve. He was a couple of months older than me. His mum and my uncle introduced us.”

“Why?”

“Why else? To ‘unite the Lukas and von Closen lines’.”

Jonathan frowned with furrowed brows. “Good lord. But nothing ever came of it?”

With a shake of the head, Salome replied, “No. We went on one date to appease them when we were fifteen and then never spoke of it again. We were close, though, or as close as we could be when we rarely saw each other. He tried to show me what Peter was doing, but I didn't want to see it. I always said, ‘He just doesn't know how to raise me. He's doing his best.’ Even then, I didn't know about the Powers. Gerard could have told me, but I think he thought he was protecting me from them by keeping me in the dark about it all.”

Another breath. “...Things started to change when I started going to the Magnus Institute.”

“You worked here?” the archivist asked in surprise.

“...Sort of,” Salome said slowly. “I wasn’t on the payroll. I took over my uncle's quarterly financial meetings with Elias when they finally got sick of each other. I didn't want to. I didn't like this place or Elias—probably because of my ‘diary’—but I thought it would make Peter happy, so I went along with it. That's how I met Michael Shelley.”

The archivist sat forward in his seat, remembering the stuttering voice of the man from statement #9522002 who would die to the Spiral and the machinations of Gertrude Robinson and become something inhuman, like the young woman sat before him. He knew she had known the distorted being calling itself Michael, but learning that she had known Michael Shelley was news to him.

“He was covering for Elias's assistant the morning of my first meeting with him. I approached the desk, and Michael smiled when he saw me. He smiled. That stuck with me until the next time I saw him. I'll spare you the details, but Michael and I met a few more times over the next year and I learned that he was… so unlike anyone else I'd ever met before. He was open, kind, sweet, and… and so utterly human.”

The sudden faraway look in Salome's gray eyes said what her words didn't. “You loved him,” the archivist guessed.

“Yeah,” Salome confirmed. “He saw me, Archivist. In ways no one else, not even Gerry, did.”

Gerry, Jonathan noted silently. He was under no delusion that the woman Salome used to be was being miracuously revived by her talking about Michael Shelley; that wasn't how this worked, and that seemed especially the case for the incredibly lonely young woman sitting before him. Her voice was starting to crack as her statement went on, and he wasn't surprised when the Eye informed him that this was the most she had spoken in a very, very long time.

“I invoked the Lonely’s power for the first time in a cafe, a little over a year after I met Michael Shelley. Gerry and I had met for coffee one day, and after some time of… I must have zoned out, because I don't remember most of it. At some point, Gerry asked about the meetings, which got me started talking about Michael. Lucky me, Michael came into the cafe at that exact moment. He sat behind me but he was listening to some music or other and didn’t notice me. Gerry tried to get me to talk to him, which is when things went wrong. I told him to be quiet, and…”

“Invoked the Lonely,” the archivist completed.

“Yes. I was able to put things back, but… I didn’t know what had happened, but I knew it was my fault. Michael was fine; everyone was fine. Nobody noticed what I’d done,” Salome said, “but it still scared me. I didn’t like it. So, I ran.” She looked at the archivist for a moment, her gray eyes unfocused. “Do you know… what my uncle said to me when I got back to the Tundra?”

“What?” The archivist was on the edge of his seat now, the Eye compelling him to catch and digest every one of Salome Lukas’s words.

“He said, ‘I’m so proud of you.’”

“And that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” the archivist asked, recalling an earlier part of Salome’s statement.

“Mmhm. Peter knew exactly what to say and when to say it to keep me obedient. And it worked. After that, I learned about the Powers, and here we are.”

The office was silent for a long while. “Tell me about Michael Shelley,” the archivist said. “You mentioned loving him, so he must have been important to you.”

“He was,” Salome confirmed. “We actually started going out not long after the cafe incident. He was…” The avatar gestured vaguely. “He kept me tied to what was left of my humanity. He anchored me to myself. He loved me, and I loved him.”

“But you didn’t tell him about the Fears?”

“I thought I was keeping him safe,” Salome said. “But maybe I was just afraid he’d leave me if he knew what I was. You know what happened next, don’t you?”

“That’s why you attacked the archives,” the archivist realized. “Because Gertrude sacrificed Michael Shelley.”

“Losing him was… hard,” Salome whispered. “I was grieving… I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. All I did was cry until my grief eventually killed me a few weeks later.”

“And that was when you attacked the Institute.”

“Yes. I sent a few of the braver souls into the Lonely when they wouldn't get out of my way. I was so close to killing her.”

“What stopped you?”

“...Michael.” Salome’s voice broke, though Jon wasn't sure if it was remnants of the grief that had changed her so fundamentally or if it was just because she wasn't used to talking so much. “The Distortion had become Michael… My Michael… If I hadn't already had my emotions ripped out of me, I don't know what I'd have felt. An extension of the thing that had taken my parents, my boyfriend, and sent my life into a downward spiral took the form of my Michael… speaking the way he did… holding me the way he used to… saying my name…”

Jon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Salome seemed to have lost hold of herself again, and heavier fog spilled out of her mouth. “Miss Lukas? Are you alright?”

“This must be your first time meeting the All-Alone,” came a third, far-too-cheery voice from behind the archivist. Jonathan sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and Salome barely seemed to take notice of Helen’s presence at all. The Distortion rounded the desk and stopped behind Salome, curling its fingers over the Lonely avatar’s shoulders and resting her chin on her head. “You know, Archivist, Sal is very rude. I just want to be her friend; is that so bad?”

One look at Salome was enough to know that she was trapped inside her own mind once again. Jon frowned. Salome Lukas was an inhuman monster, like the Distortion, there was no doubt about that. But even so, she seemed so deeply sad all the time. She was only a child when Peter Lukas took advantage of her losing her parents and had her raised in almost complete isolation until she was so desperate for his approval that she played right into his hands; Michael Shelley had almost saved her, but between the Spiral and Gertrude Robinson, that was never going to last. The loss of Salome’s parents and, even more catastrophically for her, Michael Shelley had destroyed her, turned her into this grieving, hollowed-out thing that now sat before the archivist: the All-Alone, as Helen had called her. A fitting title. It wasn’t fair.

“...You…” Salome murmured, hollow and lethargic, “...aren’t him…”

“I wasn’t him when I was Michael, either,” the Distortion replied cheerfully. Mockingly.

“No, that’s enough. Helen, get out,” the archivist commanded, but Salome was already gone. Without its unwilling perch, the Distortion scoffed and crossed its arms.

“See?” Helen gestured at the empty air where the All-Alone sat a moment before. “What did I tell you? So rude.”

The archivist sighed. “Statement ends.”

Click.

---

Mini Fics (Salome, Michael, Peter, etc.)

Mini Fics (Camille, Elias, Jonah, Eleanor, etc.)

[wolfprincesszola]

Echoes of 50 Masterlist

Hello everyone! This is a work that's been in the making for a little over 5 months now! I really hope you guys enjoy this, as it is only one of the amazing fics of this year's Big Bang Event hosted at @tss-storytime! As with every big bang event, there's always an artist and I'm so lucky to have worked with @thebestworstidea. The art she did for my story is absolutely phenomenal, so go check her out! ------------ Summary: Logan Sanders had spent his entire life hearing thoughts from everyone around him: strangers, family, friends, and more. He had learned more about people than he ever wanted to hear, but it became very useful when it came to gaining useful information.

His one goal in life? Find out what the government filled to the brim with powerless people has in store for him and the rest of the population with powers and stop it from happening.

Which was why it was even weirder when he had run into the prettiest man he had ever seen who just so happened to have the answers he might have been searching for. Unfortunately for him and for some frustratingly unknown reason, Patton Morris was immune to his telepathy.

The worst part? This cute guy seemed to be completely opposed against the government just as much as he was. Now it was up to him to decide if Patton was telling the truth and if Logan was to trust him in his crazy plans to try and overthrow the government. ------------

Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Thomas, Emilie, Remy, Unsympathetic!Joan, Unsympathetic!Talyn, Unsympathetic!Orange Side, Unsympathetic!Friends_of_Thomas

Pairings: Logan/Patton (Logicality), Background Roman/Virgil (Prinxiety), Background Remus/Janus (Dukeceit), Hidden Remy/Emilie (Remilie)

Word Count: 55,210

Trigger Warnings: Major Character Death, Medical Trauma, Experimentation, Panic Attacks, Emotional Trauma, Abuse, Manipulation, Neglect

Content Warnings: Food, Swearing, Fighting

Art by @thebestworstidea

Read it at archiveofourown (click the underlined)!

<Prologue>

<Chapter 1>

<Chapter 2>

<Chapter 3>

<Chapter 4>

<Chapter 5>

<Chapter 6>

<Chapter 7>

<Chapter 8>

<Chapter 9>

<Chapter 10>

<Chapter 11>

<Chapter 12>

<Epilogue>

[brattybattz]

I'm hardly thinking about anything right now besides him tying me up and laying me out in front of him. Smacking, slapping, and pulling me around for a while before he shoves a cloth in my mouth and duct tapes my lips.

All I can do is stare at him, fear glazed eyes as he sits me on his lap and plays with my body. Being gropped, pinched, spanked, and tugged on with no end in sight while he puts on endless videos or movies and just keeps me there.

Anytime I whimper, he will give me a good smack to the cheek.

"You're being rude."

"Shut it."

"Stop interrupting."

Acting like I'm just a talking toy, he has no real interest in.

I can imagine just one more video he puts on would start to make me sob on top of him, so he takes off the tape, removing the cloth just to put me on my knees in front of him.

When he unbuckles his pants, I will start to plea for him to let me out. Arguing that I'm uncomfortable in these bounds, just for him to shove my face against his crotch and watch me shut up in embarrassment so he can enjoy his video again.