#THAT will be one hell of a real life plot twist

[regulusrules]

my mum, my professors, my colleague, everyone passing by the street: so when will you start on your thesis?

me, looking at my fic: uuuhh...

[dropespeon]

kaito and sonoko deserve to be online friends i think

[ilsanslut]

TREAT YOU BETTER! [2]

♰ featuring: itoshi sae + itoshi rin [blue lock]

♰ note: do i even need to mention how anticipated this part was? i will mention though, that it did take me quite some time to write this and i tried to proofread it to the best of my ability, but i do apologize if there are some minor errors. lastly, sorry for putting it off for so long due to my hiatus, i hope you all enjoy!

sypnosis: the itoshi brothers punish you for your 'infidelity'. wc: 6.5k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. rin is 19. sae is 21. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. EXTRA MEAN!RIN. possessive!rin. cocky!sae. bully!itoshi brothers. they are both assholes in this fic. PRIOR MENTIONS OF CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut-shaming. groping. double-penetration. implied size kink. skull/throat-fucking. choking/borderline asphyxiation. minor angst. hair pulling. manhandling. breeding. excessive mentions of drool/spit + rin's focused mode. IMPACT PLAY (face slapping, tit slapping, cock/pussy slapping). basically, they really fuck you up but they swear it’s out of love. aftercare! ꒷꒦

view part one of TREAT YOU BETTER here: part one.

If purgatory was real, you were most certainly in it now. Penalized for your past life's sins and transgressions, you were chained and perched atop a platform before your accusers, between the heavens and the depths of hell. Except now, that platform was Rin’s bed, and the only eyes upon you were his and Sae’s—the latter of which continued to bore into your own as the rhythmic slapping of his hips against your ass refused to cease. And even now, there was that sickening twinkle in his eyes, full of sinister joy as he basked in the warped satisfaction of your psychological suffering. How lovely he found you, those plump tears streaming down your ruined cheeks—if he could, he would frame that photo for his foyer. How your plump brims continued to babble out pleas for him to stop, for him to slow down, to please let you catch your breath so that you could process the situation you found yourself in, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not until you creamed around his cock in front of your pretty lil’ boyfriend, that is.

While you, on the other hand, were currently battling the inner turmoil the two demonic brothers were putting you through. In your head, Rin’s word’s played on a loop like a broken record, plagued to repeat that same damned phrase over and over again. ‘You told me you would wait, Nii-chan.’

They plotted against you, laid out the trap, and like the oblivious bunny you are, you stumbled right into the wolf’s den.

“Y’see this, Rinnie~?” Sae drawled breathlessly, using his free hand that wasn’t holding your hair to cup your jaw, manipulating your head in his sibling’s direction while he placed his chin atop your shoulder. Forced to once again meet the eyes of your lover, you would immediately notice the contemptuous and repulsed glare he used to stab into you like a searing, hot iron blade straight into your heart. But you could never miss the desire beneath his teal eyes—desire that almost turned his current enmity for you into lust. Should you venture to cast your eyes any lower, you would also observe the brewing tent inside his sweatpants, pushing the fabric to its absolute limit.

“What d’you think is making poor Y/N cry like this, hm? The fact that she’s been caught in her infidelity or this fat cock pummeling her tight cunt?” You could feel Sae’s wolfish grin against your flesh as he spoke, dragging sharp canines across the skin of your shoulder as his own teal oculars met his brother’s.

“Both.” Rin stated bluntly before his expression would twist sourly, his upper lip curling into a sneer while his eyes narrowed on you with malicious intent. “Though if I were to guess, I bet it’s your cock since she’s a little cockslut who can’t be satisfied with just one man’s dick.” He spat as he reached his hand up to undo the zipper on his windbreaker, pulling it down slowly to reveal his equally, if not more, built form than Sae’s.

“Oh~” Sae jeered much to your chagrin, slowing the pace of his hips so he could press himself flush against your ass and languidly hump his cock into you. Unfortunately, you were unable to keep your delighted mewls from slipping past your brims as his thick cock caressed your fluttering walls. “Y’hear that, princess? Even your boyfriend thinks that you’re a cock-addicted whore.” He used his grip on your hair and chin to mockingly shake your head back and forth, feigning pity in his tone to add more fuel to your smoldering fire.

He leaned into your ear, soft lips pressing right against your lobe as his teeth captured the soft flesh between his teeth, snarling lowly. “How d’you think he’d feel knowing that you were about to make a mess on my cock, huh?”

Amidst your whimpers and pleasured mewls, you frantically shook your head, trying your hardest to deny the accusation as Rin’s fixed glare on you only grew more scrutinizing. “M’not, m’not gonna—!” On the contrary, your body would deny your vehement retorts made prevalent by your quivering thighs, heightened moans, and the sinful way your walls clung to Sae's cock.

“Don’t fucking lie to me” Sae hissed in your ear, releasing his grip on your chin to quickly swat the fattened flesh of your breast, drawing a squeal from your lips. “Y’don’t think I can’t feel this greedy cunt sucking me in? Trying to milk me of everything I have, huh?”

“N-No! Ngh~! Sae, I-I can’t—”

Your cries were silenced when an opposing hand would soon grip your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the second set of teal eyes belonging to none other than Rin. He glowered down at you, his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. Even with your strong reluctance to acknowledge it, Rin's intense gaze was enough to make you clamp harder around Sae.

“Cum on his cock, Y/N.” He ordered, his voice barely above a twisted growl. “It’s the only thing pretty sluts like you are good at, right?” His grip loosened for naught but a second to drag the pad of his thumb across your drooling and babbling brims. “Unless, you’re not . . . care to try and prove me wrong?”

You tried—you really, really tried—to hold back your orgasm, to prove Rin wrong, but the tantalizing way Sae pounded his length into you was intoxicating—tainting your mind with one need and one need only—your release. Your fists pounded against Sae's thighs behind you, trying to get midfeilder off of you, or at the very least to slow down—but it was futile. Your back rumbled from the vibrations in Sae's chest as he chuckled, his forearm caging itself around your neck and the crease of his other forearm pulling back his balled fist to effectively lock you in an unforgiving headlock, depriving your brain of precious oxygen. With your resolve all but diminished, you finally came undone before both your boyfriend and his elder brother.

All you could see was white as your vision blurred and your body seized as the coil in your tummy snapped, allowing your juices to flow out of you, fruitfully drenching both your and Sae's lower halves as well as the sheets beneath you. Your cries and pleas of euphoria filled the room, drowning out the lewd and now wet smacking sounds of Sae's pelvis against your ass, as well as he and his brother's mocking jeers. Without both of their grips on your body, you would have collapsed from the sheer intensity of it all, your body going limp as the ferocity of your orgasm nearly knocked you unconscious.

“Fuck yeah,” Sae groaned into your ear, though you were barely able to register it as he fucked you through your orgasm. “That’s it; that’s the stuff. Ngh, fuck. M’gonna cum too, gonna fill your pretty pussy to the brim.” He grunted as his thrusts grew sloppy from his impending orgasm.

But it never came. At least, not in the way you expected it.

At the last second before Sae finally came inside of you, your body cruelly hit the sheets as you were no longer supported by the strength of both men. On top of that, you suddenly felt horribly empty as the midfielder’s cock was wrenched out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing—though you were hardly in any state to utter a rebuttal.

In your daze, you heard the sounds of a struggle and Sae's enraged shout as you writhed between the sheets and something hot shot against your ass cheeks and lower back. Groggily, you mustered enough strength to push yourself up onto your elbows to glance over your shoulder, only to see a fucked-out and infuriated Sae forced back onto his haunches as Rin held his light auburn locks in a vice grip, equally, if not more, irate than his elder.

“What the fuck, Nii-chan.” Rin snarled, tugging Sae by his locks as if to enunciate his anger. “I thought we agreed that you weren’t allowed to cum inside of her, so what the fuck was that, huh?”

At first, Sae remained silent and merely opted to match Rin's glower with a quiet one of his own. Your weary eyes slid down, taking in his semi-hard cock that rested against his toned thighs, strings of yours and his arousal clinging to his girth, the thick lifts and falls of his chest, and the sweat trickling down his abs. Then your eyes shifted to Rin, where you noted the hardness of his angrily-clenched jaw, the furious downward pull of his thick brows over his captivating teal eyes, blazing with anger and betrayal, and the undeniable bulge that tugged at the material of his sweatpants.

The way your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight was unavoidable.

They were both too fucking hot for your own good.

“It’s not my fault that her greedy fuckhole wouldn’t let me go.” Sae snapped, smacking Rin’s fist from his locks. “And besides. . .” Something sinister arose on his features, tainting his expression with the need to torment the forward. “You heard her, didn’t you? She likes the way my cock fucks her more than yours anyway.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed after Sae’s bombshell of a statement. As you lay there, your heart raced, and a sense of unease washed over you, causing a pit of guilt to form in the pits of your tummy. Rin said nothing in response, staggering back from his brother with an incredulous and infuriated look before his face twisted into a maddened snarl, which Sae countered with a smug look. Had you looked even further, you could see the aura of their monstrous egos swirling around them, threatening to rip one another limb from limb.

“You motherfucker.” He growled, fists clenching with pure unadulterated rage as he lunged for his sibling yet again, only this time, you stepped in.

“Rin, stop!” You shouted, lunging forward to grab your boyfriend’s wrist before he could get his hands on Sae once more.

Rin's focus finally shifted to you, his eyes wide as clarity dawned on him for a moment, before the disdain and anger he felt for you at the time zeroed in on your form, immobilizing you where you kneeled. His fury was like a searing wave. It washed over you in that instant, and it was so intense that it made your knees weaken and your heart race. You’d seen him look at others like this before, but never directed at you before. His opponents, Isagi Yoichi, Shidou Ryusei, and even Sae on occasions, sure, but you? Never before in your life.

“You.” His tone was gutteral and animalistic, unlike anything you’d ever heard from Rin before.

Sae took advantage of the situation at that precise moment to slide off the mattress and out of dodge, but not before giving you a knowing wink and a sly look. Rin didn’t even seem to react to this. In fact, now that Sae was out of the picture, his arm dropped to his side, and you became the new target of his wrath.

It was as though you were peering into the eyes of a savage beast—of a starving lion who had finally cornered a gazelle who continuously fled and eluded the beast from her fate. Before you could react, Rin’s hands were on you, a strong hand wrapped around your neck to lift you from your haunches and into a proper kneeling position so that he could glower at you at eye level.

“Don’t you think for a second, Y/N, that you’re innocent in all of this.” He was seething, hissing through clenched teeth as you could feel his breath wafting over your frightened visage. “You know, the only reason that I returned home early from my jog was because Nii-chan told me that he had just arrived home? Do you know that it only took me ten minutes to come back after that?” You could feel his grip trembling in your veins, like he was holding himself back from lashing out at you further. "You mean to tell me that it only took him 600 seconds to strip you down and fuck you stupid on his cock in the mere minutes that he was here, huh? For you to forget your loyalty and love for me in only 10 minutes, Y/N?"

Tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to spill streamed down your cheeks. Your heart ached with the knowledge that your actions had shattered trust and betrayed the trust of someone who had placed faith in you. In the midst of your tears, you struggled to find the right words to express the depths of your remorse. You wanted to take back your choices and undo the damage you had done, but you knew that you couldn't erase the past. It was far too late for that.

“But you know what,” Rin continued, his grip on your throat as well as his expression softening. “I’m not mad.” He whispered, his voice suddenly sincere. His hand left your neck entirely in favor of stroking your hair lovingly with his other caressing your cheek, a stark contrast to the unbridled wrath he had displayed toward you only moments before.

You blinked, dumbfounded. But you could not help but lean into his tenderness and crave his affection after such a strenuous situation, especially when he offered such gentle touches and words.

“Y-You’re not?” You whispered, your voice hopeful, as tears welded up in your eyes for a different reason now—out of joy.

Rin shook his head with the faintest of smiles on his face. “I’m not . . .” His tone remained soft, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead that you found yourself falling into. Almost immediately, you were melting into him, graceful for your boyfriend’s compassion.

“I’m furious.”

In an instant, a switch had flipped, and once again, Rin turned the tables on you. Before you could respond, his fist became unbearably tight at the crown of your hair, pulling mercilessly at the roots before he tugged your gaze to meet his, ablaze with fury. Now, it was your turn to look betrayed as your pretty eyes widened with both incredulity and fear as you gaped at your lover and the sinister look in his eye.

“But don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll feel much, much better after I blow some steam off by using your pretty body.”

You could barely manage a squeal as you were soon manhandled atop Rin's bed until you were lying on your back with your head hanging over the edge. Your vision turned upside down, and you craned your neck to look up at Rin, who was busy ridding himself of his sweatpants and boxers until he was finally able to tug free his painfully hard cock right above your face. Your mouth watered at the sight of your lover’s well-endowed length at its full mast, thick, hot, and sweltering with a vein bulging along its otherwise smooth underside. His blushed tip drooled with pre, which he used to lube his hand as he pumped himself above you, unable to keep his gaze from wandering over your lewd, plump, and womanly body.

“Fuck,” He swore as he tossed his head back, allowing you to watch as his balls clenched and length twitched from the wave of pleasure that overcame him.

You noticed movement in the space between Rin's muscular thighs as you watched Sae sit in Rin's desk chair behind him, one arm resting on the arm rest while the other languidly stroked his semi-hard cock and one leg resting atop the other at the ankle. When he caught your gaze, he shot you a wolfish smirk, using your slick to roll his thumb around his reddened tip.

“Don’t look at me, princess. Look at your pretty boyfriend.”

At his command, your gaze rose, only to see Rin using his thumb to spread your lips and guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth. As you took inch by inch into your throat, you could hear your lover groaning above you, swearing something about you swallowing him down like it was nothing. Though it really wouldn’t be a punishment if he made things easy for you, would it?

Soon, he reached the hilt of your throat, and his balls were firmly nestled against your nose, allowing you to inhale his salty yet pleasant musk. Both of his large palms reached down to grab the sides of your head before his hips began to thrust himself in and out of your tight cavern, gradually picking up his pace until he was pistoning in and out of you without mercy. You spluttered and gagged, your eyes squeezing shut as you focused on breathing through your nose when you could as his balls pummeled relentlessly into your nose, making sure to smother you with his heavy orbs each time.

“Hngh, shit, Y/N!” Rin swore, his eyes torn between fixating on the sinful bounce of your large breasts from his unrelenting thrusts or the way his girth bulged your throat every time he bottomed out inside of you. “Taking this dick like it’s nothing, huh?” Rin hissed through clenched teeth as he grabbed both of your breasts in his palms and delivered merciless squeezes. “This is what sluts like you were made for, hm? Swallowing down cocks with no efforts, draining them of every last drop?” He paused, tossing his head back to groan as his balls churned beneath him. He had been pent up for so long that he knew he wouldn’t last any longer. “Never content with just one man’s dick inside of you, always craving more . . Fuck~!"

As 'effortlessly' as he described you accepting his length and brutish treatment, you still needed to breathe, which was proving to be an impossible task as his thrusts became more animalistic and sloppy. The harsh sounds of his tip bullying the end of your throat resonated off of the room, the wet “glrk, glrk, glrks” filling your ears and making your cheeks burn at the vulgarity of it all. Your hands reached up to his muscular thighs, seeking purchase from his lethal thrusts, only to have both of your wrists seized in one large hand and pinned atop your breasts. His other hand went to your nose and tightly pinched it, effectively stopping your only source of life—breathing—and adding to his savagery. The distinct pleasure moans he once emitted had devolved into almost feral snarls and grunts, as if you were being ravaged by a beast rather than your typically stoic boyfriend.

“Take it, fuckin’ take it.” He spat as his hips stuttered. Then, without warning, he pressed himself against your face, the base of his cock hilting at your lips as his balls smushed flush against your nose, further deepening your struggle to breathe. You soon found yourself preoccupied with not choking as Rin's hot, steaming cum shot down your throat, forcing you to swallow it all down. That did not stop you from flailing beneath Rin, though, and he effortlessly wrangled you down and made you take rope after rope of his seed into your spasming throat.

You whined aloud, attempting to yell out to him that if he didn’t let up, you were about to pass out, but it was clear that he didn’t give a damn if you remained conscious or not. That is, until a few more agonizing seconds passed and black spots started to obscure your vision when Rin freed himself from your throat, his semi-hard shaft hanging over your face with strings of your saliva and his seed still clinging to his length.

You gasped for air, greedily gulping down sweet, sweet breaths of pure oxygen, and your lungs were more than thankful for the reprieve. Despite your blood pumping furiously in your ears, you could still make out the sound of a chuckle from behind Rin, belonging to none other than Sae.

“Damn, Rinnie. I thought you were going to kill her.” He snickered, still lazily stroking at his dick, which twitched in his palm when your eyes met yet again.

But there was no use concentrating on him, because Rin retreated a few steps and blocked your view once more. Looking up at him with your thoroughly ruined visage, you nearly gasped at the untamed lust swimming within his eyes. It was the same expression he would have when his ego took over on the field—hungry and damn near starving.

“Not yet.”

You felt rough hands grabbing at your body again, tossing you about as though you were a ragdoll, until you found yourself in an all-too-familiar position on your hands and knees. Those same hands seized at your plump hips and snatched you back until your ankles hung off of the bed, forcing a squeal to rip from your lips. Your hips jumped as Rin's blunt cock tip touched your clit, and your toes curled as he gave you several sharp smacks of his cock to your cunt.

“R-Rinnie.” You whimpered, casting a sidelong glance at him, your mouth slightly open in defiance of his actions, pleading for a break, if only to catch your breath before he pummeled you until you couldn’t see straight. However, your voice was cut short when you felt his hands seize a handful of your hair and tug at your head until your back was hard against his chest.

“Sluts don’t talk, Y/N.” He spat against your cheek. “They moan, get their pussies used, their throats fucked, and only say, 'Yes, sir, give me more.’ Do you understand me?”

You nodded silently, knowing that trying to talk sense into his head when he was acting this way was a fruitless endeavor.

“Good girl.” His lips brushed against your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s begging me for me, understood?”

With the knowledge that answering out loud would be foolish, you nodded once more, suppressing a startled cry as he quickly brought you back down into his sheets, pressing your back into an almost painful arch with his hand planted firmly on your head. Rin seized his cock and sank it inch by inch into your tight cunt, evoking deep, guttural keens from you both without saying another word. He gave you a breathy, arousing laugh that curled your toes. He couldn’t believe that after all of this, your pretty pussy still proceeded to greedily suckle his cock as though it just couldn’t get enough.

He gave you no time to respond before he launched into his ferocious pace, pouring all of his anger, contempt, and hatred toward you into your abused hole in a way that left you feeling nothing but pure euphoria. Shouts and high-pitched cries of pleasure tore from your throat against your better judgment, partially muffled by the sheets he forced your head into. Your head was spinning, and your thoughts were focused only on how deliciously Rin pounded into you. His cock's mouth-watering curve made your thighs tremble and your knees weaken beneath you as he relentlessly pounded into your sweet spot. Observing your shaking limbs, Rin steadied your hips with both of his hands, using his improved grip to thrust more deliberately into your cunt, his thick girth bottoming out inside of you each time.

“Look a’that” Rin drawled breathlessly amidst the rhythmic clapping of his pelvis against your ass, the vulgar bouncing off of the walls. “My dick is so good you just can’t shut the fuck up, huh?”

“Ah, yes, yes, God, yes, Rin~!” You babbled, unable to stop the tears of ecstasy that squeezed from your pretty eyes.

“—But you love Nii-chan’s dick more than mine, right?”

Suddenly his ferocious pace turned into lackadaisical humps, ruining what immense pleasure had been building up within you and corrupting your mind with the need for more. You whined, one partially in desperation and the other in frustration. You moved your hips, trying to fuck yourself on Rin's cock, while craning your neck to get a better look at your boyfriend. Rin was no idiot, though. Having already sensed your intentions, his grip steeled on your hips, preventing you from moving further, much to your vexation.

“Ah, ah, Y/N.” Rin chided, the faintest hint of a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with his eyes narrowed in amusement. He firmly pressed your ass against his hips, circling his length inside of you with agonizingly slow hip rotations that taunted you with just enough stimulation that it left you mewling for more. “Answer me first, you needy bitch.” A gleam of sadism twinkled in his eye, making your heart lurch in his chest at how closely he resembled his brother.

“N-No, God, Rin.” You whispered breathlessly, shaking your head in an attempt to think clearly amidst your cockdrunk haze. However, each subtle rotation of his hips against your ass stirred your thoughts in a way that only muddied them further. “I love your cock more, I-I swear—”

“—So you’re a cheater, a whore, and a dirty little liar, Y/N?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, pushing yourself up from the mattress to now see Sae standing in front of you, glowering down at you with the same, if not more, sadistic gleam in his eye. Not daring to break your gaze from his own, you watched through your peripheral vision as his fists pumped his hard shaft only mere inches away from your face.

“Here I was, thinking you had more shame than this.” Sae huffed, clicking his tongue as his thumb stroked over your swollen bottom lip. “Yet here you are, so desperate for yet another cock in your drooling fuckhole that you’d do anything—even lie—just to relive the feeling of having what’s left of your pretty lil’ brains fucked out, right?”

“I—I . . .”

Resonably, you were at a loss for words, but there was no need to worry as Rin spoke up for you, “And you can’t even answer him? Pathetic. I bet if we let all of those lukewarm fuckfaces from Blue Lock run a train on you, you’d love every second of it, huh, princess?” He further accentuated his point with a hard, trained thrust deep into your womb. You swear he even grazed your cervix.

“No, no! I-I only want you, Rin. I only want you, I love you!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and, although you were oblivious to it, the brothers shared a look with one another. Their silence was deafening, and even Rin’s hips had stilled within you. However, before you were able to voice your confusion, you would feel sharp, phallic taps against your cheek. You didn’t even have to open your eyes to know what it was.

“Good girl.” Sae cooed condescendingly as though he were talking to a mutt worthy of praise.

“Probably the most truthful statement you said all night,” Rin followed, albeit far quieter than his sibling as his thrusts once again resumed, drawing tantalizing moans from your lips. “Then tell me after this, which one of us fucks you better, yeah? And don’t you dare.” He paused, using his large hand to rain down a set of smacks on both of your pillowy ass cheeks forcing a cry to rip from your lips. “Dream of lying to me.”

You nodded as best you could against the force of Sae pressing his cock against your face, using his thumb to hold his length taut as he literally fucked your face with it. Immediately, Rin’s brutal pace resumed again. Using his newly acquired leverage and his bruising grip on your hips, he pressed his foot against the mattress next to your knee and proceeded to fuck himself deeper into you. It felt like he was trying to pry you open with each thrust. Had it not been for Sae taking the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth the moment you opened it to muffle your cry of ecstasy, you were certain that the neighbors would’ve thought you were being murdered.

In a way, though, it was almost like you were.

It was like you were being sandwiched between two killers, only instead of making you feel agony, they were both hellbent on delivering the most utmost pleasure to you—Rin rearranging your guts from behind and Sae feeding you inch after inch of his thick cock, neither one of them stopping until they were satisfied with having your belly pumped full of their cum.

My, the Itoshi brothers were truly the devil, weren’t they?

“Hngh, fuck. F-Fuck!” Rin snarled from behind you, his once quiet moans now morphing into beastly grunts and animalistic growls. You were certain that the blunt tips of his nails were now slicing into you from his strength, one of his hands dragging down your lower back to leave reddened marks in their wake until they marked your rippling ass, which was soon pelted with a few more furious swats.

“Stupid cumslut, grippin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” His voice grew raspy as his head tossed back in euphoria, carnal pants and heaves ripping from his throat so frequently that it almost did feel like you were being ravaged by a beast.

It was to the point where Sae's cock was slipping out of your mouth in favor of his palms holding your cheeks, and turning your head to look over your shoulder at your lover. Though still as eager for his release as Rin was, he continued to thrust his cock lazily against your face and pillowy brims.

“My god, princess. Look at what you’re turning him into.”

It was a sight to behold—one that you had only witnessed for yourself once before at the Blue Lock vs. U-20 game. Rin’s brows were raised, and his teal oculars were wide, swirling with untamable lust and desire as though he were being consumed by it. His lips were parted, his jaw dropped partially as his tongue dangled out of his mouth, and globs of crystalline drool pooled over his pink muscle, oozing down his chin and onto your abused cheeks below. He wasn’t looking at you. (You don’t know if you would be able to handle it if he did.) Instead, his gaze engrossed itself in the way your ass plapped against his pelvis, the sticky lines of your juices, and his drool connecting the two of you in a way that was beyond intimate. He was intoxicated, thoroughly pussy-drunk as the only thought in his mind was, ‘Get pregnant, get pregnant, get Y/N fucking pregnant.’

The sight alone was so arousing that you couldn’t help the way your pussy clenched around his cock, strangling it further to the point where a near feral snarl ripped through his now clenched teeth, bared at you in ferocity.

“Don’t fucking do that, fucking bitch.” He snapped, delivering another smack to your ass as his gaze finally raised to meet your own, promising lethality.

“M’sorry! I-I’m sorry, Rinnie!” You wailed against Sae’s cock as Rin’s hips slammed into you with such malice that you felt your legs going numb from the overwhelming pleasure.

“No th’fuck you’re not.” He slurred, just as drunk on the stimulation as you were. “This is what the fuck you’ve wanted this entire time, isn’t it? Wanted me to fuck you up? Make you scream from my ngh! From my cock ruining your pretty little pussy, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes! God, yes, yes, Rin, please fuck me up more!”

“Yeah? Y’want me to put a pretty baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, Y/N? Make that gorgeous tummy swollen with my kids, yeah?”

“Y-Yes, please! Please, please, make me a mommy! M-make me yours!”

“Silly, girl.” He snarled, delivering another quick swat to your ruined ass. “You were always mine.”

The idea of filling you to the brim with his seed and claiming you in a way that no man could ever claim—as the mother of his children—caused his erratic pace to falter and grow sloppier by the minute.

“Mine.” He growled. “Mine, mine, all fucking mine!”

Then, almost in perfect unison—pristine synchronization—you came together. Hips smothered firmly against your ass, he pumped rope after rope of his hot, thick cum inside of you, aiming deep into your womb with every intention of impregnating you. While you, on the otherhand, were unable to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on the mattress as your orgasm washed over you. A barrage of your sweet juices fired over Rin’s cock, pelvis, thighs, and the poor sheets beneath you. Before you had any time to regain your bearings, you felt another tap on your cheek of the same phallic length from earlier.

“You forgot about me, pretty? C’mon, open that mouth for me one more time, yeah?”

Exhausted, you did as he asked without resistance, allowing your jaw to fall slack just enough for Sae to slip his cock into it. In a few pumps with his fist, the midfilder gladly fed you thick ropes of his seed, painting your mouth with his sticky release, which you wearily sucked down.

Then, unceremoniously, the two brothers collapsed beside you atop the ruined sheets.

The three of you lay there, completely depleted of all that you possessed. You were unquestionably the worst of the three, with deep teeth marks, scratches from blunt nails, bruises from fingerprints, and splotches of darkening hickies all over your body. Had anyone known any better, you appeared as though you had been mauled by savages—those very same savages who lay exhausted beside you.

After several much needed beats of deep silence, you felt the stirring of both of them pushing themselves up from the bed, and hands that were once so rough and unforgiving on your body were now handling you with the utmost care as though you were a porcelain doll made of the finest glass. As you walked the thin line bordering consciousness and unconsciousness, you felt warm, moist towels caressing your thighs, chest, and forehead, ridding you of any filth that tainted your once-supple skin. The sheets that had become beyond soiled from all of your fluids were gently lifted from beneath you and replaced with warm ones that had just come out of the dryer that had been running before Sae arrived. Just as you were about to fall asleep, your body was manipulated once more, this time into another equally warm one, causing your heavy lids to flutter open to focus on none other than your boyfriend—Rin's teal oculars.

“You still with me?” He inquired, his previously harsh tone softening to gentle and tender, as if speaking any louder would shatter your fragility.

You nodded weakly, seeking solace in his warmth and soft body, snuggling your petite frame into his. Rin quietly returned the favor, running his fingers through your hair and giving you occasional massages in the spots where he and Sae got too rough with you.

Speaking of, you heard Rin's door open and saw Sae standing in front of you, adorning a pair of black designer boxers.

“Here.” The midfeilder said plainly, passing a miniature carton of strawberry milk your way with a straw poked through the center.

Clearly in no position to receive such generosity, Rin accepted it for you, gently maneuvering you into a position where you could comfortably sip the much needed liquid into your dehydrated body. As you did so, Rin’s head rested atop your own, but not before he placed a tender, sweet kiss on your forehead full of love, unlike the one from earlier that was meant to lure you into a false sense of security. This is exactly what you needed after such arduous affairs, being held in your lover’s strong arms while enjoying the best strawberry milk you’ve ever had.

What should’ve been a cute moment was interrupted by Sae, who, with a look of disgust on his features, stated, “You two are disgusting.”

“Fuck you too, Nii-chan.” Rin shot over his shoulder, not missing the way Sae gave him the finger on his way out as he slammed his room door shut, leaving you and Rin in what should have been a comfortable silence.

But it was hampered by the sense of ambiguity that pervaded your relationship. The weight of past transgressions and tribulations weighed upon you both so heavily that it was nearly suffocating, threatening to take you both alive if it wasn’t for—

“I’m sorry.” The two of you stated in unison before, rather comically, whipping your heads to stare at one another, bewildered.

“Y/N.” Rin sighed heavily, shaking his head in denial. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be. I made it seem like everything was all your fault when it was really Sae and I’s.” Another sigh drew from his lips as the realization dawned on him of the agreement he had made with his older brother to allow them to share you, one, without your prior consent, and two, without your knowledge. Not to mention, pinning the entire thing on you as though you were the infidelious one here.

“Y-Y/N.” His voice quivered. His gaze, too ashamed to look at you any further, drew to the ceiling. In the bright lights of his room, you watched as his eyes glazed over, tears that he refused to let fall clearly stinging at his irises. His face was etched with anguish; the weight of his actions had hit him like a sledgehammer, and his distress was palpable. “I-I’m sorry.” He whispered, daring himself to glance in your direction.

“Rinnie.” You uttered softly, biting back a wince as your sore arm rose to gently cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb swiping at his waterline to catch a straying tear. He wasn’t too good with words of sincerity, and you knew that—you wouldn’t press him for more. “I forgive you, so please don’t cry.” As you leaned in to give him a soft peck on the jaw, you noticed that you also felt the familiar sting of tears pricking your eyes. “You’re going to make me cry too, baby.”

Both of you were unable to control the gentle and quiet laughter that jostled your beings. And there it was—the moment of reprieve where the pressure of the unknown was lifted, replaced by a profound sense of reconciliation and renewal. Your eyes met with an intensity that conveyed unspoken apologies, forgiveness, and the promise of a fresh beginning. You two felt more intimate and connected to one another at that precise moment than you had ever experienced.

After you had finally finished the last of your drink, Rin took the empty carton from you and set it on his nightstand. You then proceed to curl into his chest, to which he ensared you in his grasp, entwining your limbs in his. With your head nestled against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart soothed you and eased your mind or any lingering parasites. That is when you sensed it: the tranquil siren's song of sleep drawing you deeper and deeper into its pacifying depths.

However, before you could finally embrace slumber’s sweet call, Rin’s soft voice called out to you once more.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“. . . I love you too, Rinnie.”

ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

[starleska]

73 Yards has devastated me and i have some theories

we all agree that 73 Yards was a genre-defying, harrowing episode...and i think there's some really interesting themes and ideas going on here. tw for discussion of trauma, abuse, neglect and abandonment:

i hope we're all on the same page that the Woman seems to represent Ruby's fear of abandonment, brought to life. always present, always out of the corner of her eye, and whose primary mechanic is to drive people to scorn and leave Ruby without explanation. even people who do not know her, or people she's just met, or who are incredibly warm towards her...they speak to the Woman, and they look back as if to confirm their suspicions, and then run away, maddened and horrified. it is an unbelievable stroke of genius to make the Toymaker's breaking down of the boundaries between science and fantasy bring Ruby's abandonment into being...and for Ruby to weaponise her. but that's it - as soon as Roger ap Gwilliam was taken care of, we expected the Woman to disappear, right? but that could never happen, because Ruby's fear of abandonment will never disappear...no matter how purposeful her life is, or how much she distances herself from others. the use of the cruel, distant individuals in the Welsh pub to set up Ruby sympathetically is excellent...and then, we see people approach Ruby at all levels of emotional connection, when time and again she is considered untouchable, as if her very being is contagious. and all this time, we have the fairy circle being broken and hope vanishing...with hope being the Doctor. the one man who potentially holds the key to uncovering Ruby's deepest desires - to find out why she was abandoned, and by who. and at the end of it all...even in death, Ruby doesn't find peace. she is transported into a neverending hell-loop where she is her own abandonment. the two are inseparable, inexplicably the same, because Ruby's very existence as herself is built on the bedrock of abandonment. and i think this resonates heavily with any trauma survivor...the way that our trauma and our very real anxieties brought on by that trauma are inextricable from ourselves. i think the plot with Roger ap Gwilliam shows off a very real symptom in trauma survivors: we often daydream that our hurt and pain will be useful one day - functional. and not only does Ruby get to do that...she gets to be the quiet, unsung saviour of the whole world, protecting us from a world-ending terror in spite of the abuse and neglect she's faced. she endures menial work and constant fear, while only confiding quietly in one other person...Marti, who i believe is coded as another trauma survivor due to her response to Roger (who she describes as a monster). if Ruby can't receive love and affection from anyone else, at least she can feel satisfied that she served her purpose. on a practical level, the presence of Mrs Flood and Susan Twist in this episode AGAIN gives me pause. my theory that someone here is another of the Toymaker's Legions, and is the embodiment of Story, has only deepened. the fact that we had a cold open without the title sequence, we met Susan Twist very quickly, we seem to have flipped genres for the show and Ruby was able to embark on a self-destructive wish-fulfilment saviour fantasy in real life...it all indicates to me that the boundaries between reality and fiction are fully collapsing. when Kate says things are trending towards the supernatural lately, i think we've only hit the tip of the iceberg. on a broader level: my God Russell T Davies, what a brilliant script!!! this is one of my favourite ever episodes of Doctor Who, and is absolutely my highlight for the season. huge kudos to Millie Gibson for giving such a killer performance...i am now terribly endeared to, and protective, of Ruby, and hope against hope she gets the happy ending she so deserves 💖

[pyrpaw]

Can i have uhhh first year gang visiting yuu in their world? Thank youu

hell yeah you can have that 🙏 I did a little intro to the situation, and then some head cannons

(contents: might be a but ooc because I imagine they'd be pretty happy to see you again after you disappeared without saying bye, (name) is mentioned to go to school and have a job, their age isn't mentioned but they are implied to live alone(for plot reasons<3))

How did... you get here?

(I had no gif ideas)

You thought you were crazy, you got transported into some place called "Twisted wonderland" and then, you randomly got back home! and seemingly no time had passed, was it just an elaborate dream?... you had no clue, but you had to continue your life like normal. So, going back to school, your job, all of that, left with no one to rant to about how you missed your friends from Twisted wonderland... because are they even real?

Turns out, they were real! because at 2 in the morning you were doing your homework and heard banging and talking from another room, it sounded like multiple voices so you quickly tried to find your phone... only to realize it's downstairs. So, grabbing a hammer in your room you silently made your way outside your room and as silently as you could, downstairs. You heard the voices growing closer and closer, your anxiety peaked as you held your breath and froze, panic filling you as when one of the figures was about to round the corner. Once you saw a foot step out you immediately stood up and lifted the hammer up in a panic, ready to strike down.

And once your hands were already going down you met eyes with a familiar green haired fae who flinched as his head was struck with a hammer. You two stared at each other in shock and confusion, as the other first years came over to see what happened, everyone's eyes widened when they saw you... and the hammer that connected with Sebek's head.

"... Sebek?" You spoke in a quiet voice, slowly pulling the hammer back down as you stared at him. He silently nodded as the others stared at you in awe. You couldn't comprehend any words, before getting tackled into a hug from Ace as he buried his face into your neck and spoke with a shaky voice. "... I thought I'd never see you again.." and before you could even reply, Deuce came up and tightly hugged you too. "... you didn't say bye to anyone" he mumbled as he pulled back and stared at you with teary eyes.

So, after a whole lot of reunions, the boys explained that they didn't know how they got there, or how to get back, so obviously they're allowed to stay with you.

Ace Trappola

He's definitely gonna make fun of your decor, your clothes, basically anything... even though hes gonna steal your T-shirts even after they all got their own clothes

If you're not constantly going out with friends or talking to them he's gonna bully you about being a loser, however if you are constantly talking to friends, he's gonna complain that you're not giving them enough attention and you're being a bad host (even though he really only means that he wants more attention)

Deuce Spade

He won't automatically think about getting a job, but if he hears that you're struggling with paying for all of them then he'll find some kind of job and complain about it 24/7, especially because it'll probably be in customer service due to his age and having no records of anything

Unlike Ace, Deuce automatically starts to help you with funds, he'll probably find a customer service job, maybe even two

Jack Howl

He'll probably get a good reputation with your neighbors, always offering them any help, and usually being gifted something, whether it be muffins or just money

I think that he would kinda just stay home mostly, really only going out with you where he can follow you like a lost puppy (only because he doesn't know this world like you!)

also-he totally takes note of what decor, music, and clothes you like even more now, so that he has ideas for a potential gift and or way to bond with you

Epel Felmier

So... he kinda had to be... barricaded in a way, until you could find a proper hat to cover his ears, he couldn't leave... because some preteen will bark at him

Once he can leave the house though, he immediately gets a job... and spends a bit of the money on a gym membership (also, if you go to the gym he is hyped, he's following you around it the whole time totally not trying to show off his strength)

I think he'd honestly get a job at a gym, maybe a personal trainer even

He basically took up the chore of grocery shopping, like he meal preps and all, it's mainly just veggies and meat that he buys

Sebek Zigvolt

He's thrilled to finally be away from Vil and Rook, now he can actually be himself! His stupid dirty jokes and overall roughness has definitely amped up now that he knows Vil won't find out

He couldn't really find a job due to having no proof that he wasn't a girl, but like Deuce he takes up jobs from your neighbors, getting some cash here and there

He also usually goes on grocery trips with Jack, with Jack getting healthy food, and Epel begging him to get at least a few junk food items, plus he's great at picking out what fruit and veggies are the best

Ortho Shroud

Hes definitely having a hard time with the whole... all humans... no magic thing, to the point that he kept accidentally using his magic in public and got house arrest by you, leaving Ortho to make sure he didn't leave

He's still allowed to go out with supervision though, and anytime you go out to town with him he basically acts as a body guard, glaring at anyone would date approach you

He was given the task of cooking, because he obviously had to learn so he didn't have to eat Lilia's cooking, so him and Jack discuss meek plans for the week/month

He's also like a guard dog when he's outside just in the yard, he's keeping coyotes away, Bobcats, bears, any predator, he's keeping it away with no doubt

Grim

Much like Jack, he couldn't leave the house due to being a robot, technically he could leave and would just get some weird glances for having a "cosplay" on, but he decided to stay back and keep Grim company... and watch Sebek

Whenever he gets bored he'll rummage through the house and find old objects that you clearly don't use anymore... and somehow end up upgrading any technology in this house?? like you came home and suddenly your laptop had the power of a damn PC

He'll also go around when he's bored and clean up for you, putting things away, sweeping, mopping, everything, he's very considerate!

now.... Grim obviously can't leave, he has fire ears! So he's pretty pouty, but after you got him a few toys and a tablet (iPad baby I'm sorey), he calmed down, but he's still not happy!

There are a few acres of forest nearby, so sometimes he'll sneak out there with Ortho to get some outdoors time, but he's almost gotten caught a few times, each time getting scolded by you or Jack

He's secretly very happy to be able to sleep on top of his henchmen again, hes always clinging onto you now, after having the biggest scare of the one person he considered "family" randomly disappearing and leaving him all alone!

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant and Michael Sheen on The One Show 10.7.2023 ❤ :)

(also there Zoe Saldana and Nicole Kidman, and Alex Jones and Jermaine Jenas as interviewers :))

Int1: Well, this is lovely for Wednesday, isn't it?

David: It's a lovely way to spend a Monday night, innit?

Zoe: I was excited to see you both.Likewise.

Int1: Now, Good Omens. I mean, people love the first series. It's back for a second. If there's anybody watching who didn't see the first one, they don't know what we're talking about. Go on, Michael. Fill them in.

Michael: I play an angel on Earth to do angel things.

David: I play a demon. I'm Hell's emissary on Earth.

Michael: And we decide that it's a lot easier if we team up because it saves on shoe leather. So we come to an arrangement, and then we realize that we actually quite like it on Earth, and we don't really want to deal with our respective head offices. And in season one, we save the world from the apocalypse. Season two...

David: And get excommunicated by our respective...

Michael: Yes. Exactly. So season two picks up. We're now...

David: We're at liberty.

Michael: Yeah. I'm in my bookshop, having lovely meals and watching lovely shows and hanging out with my best buddy here.

David: I'm living in my car, unfortunately, becausemy apartment came with a job.

Michael: And then John Ham turns up naked at mybookshop in Soho one day with no memory. And so the mystery begins. Int2: The plot twist. We know we've got a clip.

Nicole: I don't understand why he's [Jon Hamm] not on the couch.

Michael: Well, exactly. Nor me. I think everyone's asking the same thing.

David: Apparently it's a BBC rule you have to be clothed, so he was having none of it.

Int1: Yeah, that would push Monday over the edge. Let's see the clip.

Int2: Let's see the clip.

[familiar trailer plays, nothing new there]

Michael: When I said that line in the scene [I think I may have just started a war.], I knew it would be in the trailer. Do you know when you sometimes go, yeah, this is a trailer, and I got really nervous .I couldn't do it. Doing it over and over again.

Nicole: Well, I'm looking for something to watch. I'm watching that.

Zoe: Yes.

Int2: I like how you were like, yeah, that's the one.

Michael: On 28th.

Zoe: Okay, you watch ours and we watch yours.

Michael: Deal. We're in. We're in.

David: Yes, very good, very good.

Int1: Beautiful. This is the thing, at the heart of Good Omens is this unlikely friendship between you two, but in real life so you filmed it, you didn't know each other, and then they clicked. Look at them. They joined at the hip. They do everything...

Michael: It's true.

Int1: You even had babies at the same time.

Michael: We did.

Int1 [to David]: Your wife posted this picture of you two leaving the hospital.

David: Look how in tune we are with each other.

Michael: And now those two little babies are nearly four, and they send each other little video messages. Yeah.

David: Well, they're babies of the pandemic, so that's how they think everyone communicates.

Michael: Exactly.

Int1: Is then when you went on to do Staged together?

Michael: Yeah.

Int1 [to Zoe and Nicole]: Have you seen that?

Zoe: No.Wait a minute. What are you guys doing on stage right now? Like a tour or something?

David: No, no it's a show .

Michael: It was a TV series called Staged that we did over Zoom. So we could work from our own houses.

David: Yeah.

Michael: We've done three series.

Nicole: They're extremely clever.

Zoe: That's insane. I have to watch it.

Int2: Now, Michael, apparently you turned down the opportunity to play David's character. Arguably got a better wardrobe. Is it something that you're regretting right now?

Michael: He gets all the best clothes. No. Neil Gaiman, who wrote the book that it's based on with Terry Pratchett. I've been friends with Neil for years, and so when we first started talking about the project yeah. We sort of both kind of, for some reason, assumed that I would play this one character, and then as he started writing the scripts, I was like, that's not the character. I'm not going to play that. So I felt kind of bad about saying that to Neil, and Neil was sort of feeling, because he was thinking thesame thing, feeling bad about saying it to me. So it all came out and then eventually it made way for the Tennant to emerge.

Int1: And he came in his lovely outfit.

Michael: Yeah. And his slinky hips.

...

Int2: David.You're returning to Doctor Who. We had Catherine Tate on a couple of weeks ago.

David: Oh, yes.

Int2: o we spoke to her about it all. Now, she said it was like slipping back into a comfy pair of slippers. Was it the same for you?

David: Yeah. I mean, 15 years is quite a long time. And you do worry you won't be able to runf ast enough anymore, but...

Int1: Is it 15 years ago?

David: 15 years.

Int1: It's not, David, it can't be.

David: You're a lot older than you think you are.

Michael: I was only five when... I remember the David Tennant. I was just a little nipper.

Int2: On the Doctor Who subject. Watching... that's what inspired yo uas a child, wasn't it? Watching Doctor Who.

David: Yeah.

...

Int2: Good Omens Series Two on the 28 July on Prime Video and you can catch all three series of stage on IPlayer.

...

Int1: Let's say Nadoli Llawen.

Nicole: Yeah. [Tries]

Int1: Nadoli Llawen. Merry Christmas in Welsh.

Michael: Very good.

Int1: Michael, you can verify this. I mean, even the both of us are from South Wales, and even within 20 minutes car Journey, there'll be different dialects...

Michael: Within streets! Streets! Yeah, you can tell where someone comes from, which end of town people come from. [to Int1] I know which end of town you come from.

Int1: Say no more.

Michael: It's always been very clear, Alex.

Int1: Always very clear.

[theealbatross]

love is the most twisted curse of all (shadow trio headcannon)

Plot | How the Shadow Trio expresses their love and the price they willingly pay for it.

Tags: |dark-ish, unhealthy friendships/relationships, platonic (or not depends on your interpretation), codependency, manipulation, aged up, implied crimes, implied murder, slytherins can't love normally, implied seb x mc if u squint, traumatized!slytherins can't accept healthy love, seb and mc are dark wizards, auror!sebastian, my opinion only, might be ooc

[A/N: Photos (except two) are not mine! This is something short I wrote because i can't get it out of my head lol]

Ominis Gaunt: The Heir

. Ominis loves by doing what is necessary.

. A perfect Slytherin through and through, Ominis (whether he is aware or not) lives the closest truth to the Slytherin motto. Anything that is 'his' is protected at any and all cost.

. There is no heaven high enough he won't reach or a hell low enough that he won't crawl in if it meant saving the people dearest to him.

. Like the perfect slytherin heir Ominis is akin to a snake, his morality slithering and bending to fit his narrative. His bones creak, skin stretching as he wraps himself around his loved ones until they are untouchable.

. He is aware of his flaws but he is not so honorable to fix it. He knows the real world -- the darker side of the wizarding world's high society, one that his companions aren't too familiar with -- and he will move hell and high water to protect them from it in the shadows.

. Dark Spells being used a bit too closely in where Sebastian is stationed? It must be those damned dark wizards, Minister. Isn't Auror Sallow so gallant in facing those pests?

. Poacher corpses leading a trail to you? Surely, such stains of the wizarding world wouldn't be missed. The Hero of Hogwarts did us all a favor, it would be a shame to condemn such heroics.

. Suspicious rumors following his friends? Not while he was at the top of high society, manipulating reputations and snuffing out nonbelievers. Any tongue that rises against them will be cut.

. He is a Gaunt, and as much as he loathes the dark history behind his name -- he knows how to wield its power. He is the only one who can properly wield it and it is a sword he is willing to use -- if necessary.

Sebastian Sallow: The Prodigy

. Sebastian loves by monopolizing.

. As a boy who lost too much at such a young age, his entire world surrounds the few people he considers his own. And if you are one of his people know his whole world will surround you.

. He has to have access and knowledge of his loved ones at all times. In-depth, illegal, background checks on all people his pretty witch associates herself with? Fair game, it's for your safety, darling. Charmed pieces of jewelry that lets him know of your location at all times? Christmas and birthday gifts from him to you, wear it at all times or he'll charm it so it never gets removed. A ring that will transport Ominis to his side at the first sign of danger? Ominis you are far too important a person to put your life on mere Aurors hands, I'll handle it.

. Normal people would be put off but after all the things the three of you have been through, putting your lives and safety in Sebastian's hands is the best course of action. It is for your own good, after all.

. Sebastian is fully aware he has unfortunately been cursed with having brilliant friends with bounties in their heads in the underworld. Therefore, the best course of action would be the one to rule it.

. Living a double life as the honorable Head Auror and a dark wizard was not for the weak but Sebastian has always been used to compartmentalizing different faces for different facets of his life. A brilliant student, a delinquent, a doting brother, a traitor, a partner in crime, a merciless murderer. He'll wear any and all masks and become the monster he is required to be if it meant he got to keep you.

. Sebastian doesn't have a lot of people he loves so he will not ask for forgiveness in how he protects those that is willing to be loved by him. They're his -- his to love, his to protect, his to consume.

. And he'll let all the curses and corpses pile up into a mountain of sins before he'll lose anyone ever again.

MC: The Hero

. She loves through devotion.

. Once you consider them as a friend they can do no wrong in your eyes and if they do commit mistakes you will dig the deepest pit to bury it in with your own bare hands.

. Being told you were special, you were different, you were powerful at a very early age fractured your reality. The world is your oyster, it will be whatever you deem it to become.

. For what is power if you can't even help those you love the most?

. Do you want me to take care of 'it', Omi? You know I hate it when you strain yourself with politics. Someone tried to take Sebastian to court for excessive violence? Who is it? Are you going to handle it or should I? Why can't they just let him be?

. You will follow them blindly at whatever corner of the earth they are calling from. Anything that has to do with them is a priority of the highest order as far as you are concerned-- so much so that people have to go to Ominis and Sebastian first to convince them to convince you to help.

.There is no such thing as a good or bad anymore -- you will stand on whatever side they are on, and the rest of the world can decide if they want to stand with you or against you.

. There will be no such thing as a consequence if you had anything to say about it. And you had the final say about everything.

. All will always be well for you and everyone you love. You will make sure of it.

.You are special, after all.

[everyonesfavreader]

[guy gives his roommate a hand job after he wakes up with w a boner]

ft ; Isaak x Male Reader

cw ; hand job, wet dream , reader receives hand job , sub reader , “and they were roommates “

fyi ; warning, ts is prob arse. the smut part is from my old wattpad, only thing thats recent is the plot so yeah. promise recent work will be better

you lived with Isaak, plus two other people, so things of yours going missing wasn’t unusual. what was unusual was there not being a mattress in your room. obviously you were confused, and upset, but mostly confused. there was no real reason for your mattress to just be gone!

Isaak was able to hear you storming into the living room before you even announced that you were upset. he turned himself to watch you walk in, a soft smile on his face. that smile faded once he realized just how upset you were. your face was contorted into a look of confusion and anger.

“where’s everyone else at?” you stood idly beside the sofa Isaak rested on, taking the chance to look around. before you could get a response you started up again. “and what the hell is my mattress?!” you turned to Isaak, ranting about how you can never come home to anything being where it should.

Isaak watched you with soft eyes, taking the time to admire you while you were distracted. he was quick to make it seem like he was listening when you did make eye contact with him, but for most of it he was just tuning it out. he never made it blatantly obvious that he liked you, but he was still surprised that you hadn’t noticed.

you eventually calmed down, taking a breather now that your rant was over. Isaak was sure you hadn’t even taken a breath throughout that entire rant. “uhmm, well. no one besides me is home. and the other two won’t be back till late tomorrow.”

“what! why?” you exclaimed. you knew everyone besides you were pretty into the party life, but late tomorrow? what party last over 24hrs! Isaak was just as confused. he shrugged before leaning onto the couch arm. “ion know man, they just left and told me they’d be back left tomorrow.”

you could only sigh, they were probably the only people who could have an answer about the whereabouts of your missing bed. you were only getting more upset by the second, you were tired and had no where to sleep but the sofa, and it wasn’t the most comfiest surface.

“if your tired or something you can just sleep in my bed, i was gonna take a nap but—“ you nodded and hugged Isaak before he could finish he sentence. “yes! thank you so so much man.” you couldn’t care less about Isaak needed to nap as well, you two had shared beds plenty of times before.

it didn’t take long for you both to get comfortable in Isaak’s bed. you and isaak knew each other for years, so you didn’t hesitate to cuddle up to him. you held onto his arm as you fell asleep, eventually kicking and twisting into a different position. Isaak only smiled and admired you once more, his hands caressing your cheek as he watched you sleep. he eventually fell asleep himself, holding onto you till he also moved into a different position.

as you slept, you imagined Isaak’s slender hands roaming your body and groping at every curve as you laid under him. soft praises filled your ears and soft kisses made your dick twitch as you whimpered and squirmed under him. his hands eventually found purchase on your waist as he nested between your thighs, his soft lips began to kiss at your own cock. you twitched and looked down at him with sorrowful eyes, wishing he’d take you into his mouth already..

"(name)? you okay, man?” the sound of Isaak’s soft voice calling for you pulled you out of your wet dream. a whine left your dry lips as you pulled a plush pillow close to your face. your once soft and loose pajamas now felt tight around your crotch due to the sexual dream. you briefly thought about attempting to fall back asleep before you heard Isaak’s voice again.

you never realized you had any feelings for Isaak till now, guess those years of assuming you wanted to be close to him was really a crush.

"you okay?" Isaak asked once more, sitting up to get a better look at you. you nodded in response, "yeah.. jus' had a wet dream.” you sleepily spoke as you stretched and rubbed your droopy eyes, a yawn following your sentence. Isaak only chuckled and softly began to rub your thigh, a thought coming into his head when he noticed your slight bulge.

"hm, maybe I could make that dream a reality." Isaak suggests, a sultry look in his eye as he looked down at you. your lips curled into a smile as you nodded, leaning closer to Isaak. you looked up at him, your closed eyes now open but still quite heavy. "yeah..but 'm still tired so.." you hum, adding onto your nonverbal response.

"mkay, I'll try to be quick." he softly kisses your forehead as you lay flat on your back, patiently waiting for him to work his magic. Isaak slowly tugs your cock free, moving closer to your lower area as his hand wraps around your member. your eyes slowly drift close and you relax under his touch, letting small quiet moans leave you as he softly strokes your cock.

Isaak occasionally twist his wrist, your breathe hitches in response your hips jerk forward. Isaak watches closely as your face contorts, enjoying the sight of you enjoying yourself. Isaak focuses on gently stroking your cock while his thumb circles your tip. he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your cock, making you smile from the weirdly sweet gesture. he continues the slow and rhythmic strokes till your thighs start to clench, his hand increases in pace when he notices and he softly massaging your thighs as he brings you closer and closer to finishing.

a hushed whine leaves you as you cum, your cum spills all over Isaak’s hands and yourself. a gentle kiss to your thigh assures you that Isaak will clean up the mess, leaving you to drift off while he cleans up. you made a mental note to thank him properly once you were more energized. and Isaak made a mental note to get your other two roommates to help bring your mattress back in.

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 1

Masterlist Ch. 2 Summary: Saving the timeline and moving in with Wade Wilson is one thing. Going on his first, real, official date with the man is another thing entirely.

*or*

Logan struggles to tell Wade that he doesn't want Wade's idea of perfect. He just wants what they already have. Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, porn with plot, mental health issues, dirty talk, biting, bottom Logan/top Wade, blowjobs, come swallowing, praise kink, dry humping, PTSD

Word Count: 3.5K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

It wasn’t always this easy to wake up.

Before his new and surprising way of life, there were thousands of days when Logan hated this particular reminder of his immortality. Like he and the sun were in competition – which of them would outlast the other? And the worse the night before had been, the more bitter and ironic the morning. Day after day after day.

Lately, though, things are different. Things are good.

Today, Logan stirs awake in a warm bed shared with one other man, an ugly little dog, and a cat. Something that could almost feel like a family, even in their cramped apartment with all its issues. A hot and aching feeling hits his chest to even think the word; too many times he’d had that and lost it. Though he can’t lose Wade the way he’s lost others in the past, that fear isn’t quick to go away.

Wade’s face is buried in the collar of Logan’s t-shirt, and Logan doesn’t have to pull away to know that he’s drooling in his sleep. Maybe if it were someone else, he’d be irritated. With Wade, he’s just gotten used to it. Hell, he likes Wade too much to even care. Despite the constant chatter (yapping, as Wade says people call it now), the large generational gap, and the unconventional way they’d met, Logan does more than tolerate him.

He really, really likes Wade Wilson.

Though regenerative capabilities are a massive bonus, Logan also just enjoys being around him. He’s got a wicked sharp wit and sense of humor that get to Logan even when he’s trying to pretend they don’t. Wade’s damn good in a fight, light on his feet and agile in a way that Logan’s not sure he’ll ever be. He’s sweet, underneath all the talk.

The guy's interesting, talented, caring, and – fuck. This is a long list. Yeah, Logan knows where these sorts of feelings tend to lead. He’s not quite there yet, but he wants to be. He wants to try. Even if there's still a part of him that tells himself to get the hell away before something goes wrong. Because something always goes wrong.

In the tangle of fresh blankets and soft sun, Logan just lets himself lie there for a while. Get a little uninterrupted peace before the day has to start. It won’t be long before Puppins is hauling herself up and licking their faces, demanding breakfast and her morning walk. Currently she’s tits up at the foot of the bed, snoring. Bonnet is curled into a tight ball not far away, tail and paws tucked in.

Tranquility can’t last forever, though. Logan’s arm is at an uncomfortable angle under Wade’s body, and when he gently tries to pull it free, Wade begins to stir awake.

“Mm,” he mumbles, taking the time for a long, dramatic stretch. “Morning, kitty cat.”

“Morning,” Logan answers, leaning down to kiss him on the side of the head.

At their feet, Puppins is already beside herself with excitement, flipping and twisting to get upright so she can stick her tongue in someone’s nostrils. Logan takes advantage of the few seconds he has to shift a little closer, slinging a leg over Wade’s hip.

“You sleep okay?”

“Mmhm.”

Wade kisses him back after nodding, something sweet that could be their version of chaste. Logan would have a better time believing he actually meant it to be, if not for the way Wade slowly grinds his morning wood into Logan’s own, teasing even with a sleepy grin on his face.

“Yeah, I sure d–hey!” He’s interrupted by the inevitable dog in his face, tail going crazy as she plants her pointy little paws on each of them for leverage. “Okay, sweetie, we get it, you’re a bigger whore than Papa and you really want to go out.”

Bonnet cracks an eye open. He briefly looks at Logan as if to say what the actual fuck? before slipping off the bed and out the door.

“I’ll take her, you stay here.”

Logan eases his way out of bed and holds out his arms for Puppins to hop into, and she does so with gusto.

Wade gives puppy eyes almost as good as the dog does.

“Aww, you’re the best, angel face.” He gives them both a little wave from the bed as Logan carries her out. “Be good for Daddy, okay girl? No staring into the distance for thirty minutes like you’ve seen the ghost of a Victorian child.”

Trying to look annoyed at the antics and falling short, Logan shakes his head. The juxtaposition of being called kitty cat and then daddy within the same five minutes does something to him that he’s not even going to attempt to rationalize. Better to stuff it into the waistband of his shorts so that he doesn’t scare the neighbors.

She’s pretty fast about it, thankfully. Logan trots her outside the apartment in her little matching harness and leash and she does a lap around the block, sniffing at all the familiar spots. By the time they make it back inside, Wade’s got her fancy wet food ready and waiting, and Puppins launches herself into it like she’s never had an honest meal.

Not that he can really single her out. Bonnet eats in much the same way, his body hunched possessively over the bowl, growling through bites as if someone’s about to take it away from him. Like they’d risk their hand trying.

“Our sweet little freak shows,” Wade says fondly, bumping his hip into Logan’s as they take a minute to make sure there’s not going to be any roughhousing.

(Roughhousing loosely translates to Puppins finishing her food and wandering over to Bonnet, then screaming out her drama when she gets smacked in the face. She somehow fails to remember, every day, that he likes a firm boundary with his breakfast.)

Logan hums his agreement, sparing a sideways glance at Wade in nothing but Logan’s own boxers and a loose tank top that reads Satan Loves My Gay Ass. If he’s right, they’ll have about two more minutes before his cat– as Wade sometimes refers to Bonnet – horks down the rest of his food, leaving the household in peace. Then they can have their fun.

Seems like Wade’s right there with him. As soon as Bonnet prowls away from his empty bowl, extra claws clicking on the linoleum, he snatches the bowl up – just in time for Puppins to collide with his forearm on her way to lick it clean.

“No no no, my delicate little scrotum-faced wonder,” he coos at her. “We all know what cat food does to your already tumultuous digestive tract.”

No fucking kidding, Logan thinks. They’d had to rip out and replace a good strip of the carpet the first time they’d caught her in it.

“Anyway!” Wade deposits the pet bowls in the sink with a clang. “I’m pretty sure our dicks were in the middle of something?”

Logan grins, often unable to help himself where Wade is concerned. “They mighta been.”

That affirmation is all it takes to get them back to the bedroom, this time shutting the door with a click. Logan pins Wade to it in two seconds flat, his mouth hungry as they kiss, running his hands up and down the other man’s exposed biceps with a quiet sound of want.

He can’t help how good Wade looks wearing his boxers. They’re too fucking big for him, for one thing, slipping a little on his slightly slimmer build. Almost giving him the whole show, depending on the angle. Not a problem now, because he’s straining them hard with his tented cock. Like he’d planned on getting Logan this worked up before breakfast.

Their lips dance and tease each other for a while in that way they both adore; a little pain, a little fun, all of it mixing together until things are indistinguishable. Teeth nipping and pulling before tongues get involved, Logan’s hips pressing deep into Wade’s, a push and pull of oxytocin. One of Wade’s hands works its way into Logan’s hair, sending a thrill of pleasure up his spine as he gently scratches at his scalp.

“Should we take this party to the bed?” Wade asks as they break away for a moment. “Or would you rather I fuck you against the door so hard that the neighbors think we have a really insistent visitor?”

Honestly, that sounds fun – until Logan pictures banging his shoulders into the unforgiving door frame hundreds of times.

“Bed,” Logan decides.

It’s only a few steps away. Wade walks him backwards until the back of his legs collide with the mattress, and Logan lets himself fall. The bed gives a hellish squeak underneath the sudden weight, reminding them both of the four bed frames that they’ve gone through since they’ve started dating. They may be on their way to the fifth if this one keeps up.

They’re quick to arrange themselves more comfortably at the head of the bed. Logan surrendered long ago to the idea of how nice it felt to have Wade on top of him, like a weighted blanket that won't shut the fuck up. The same stays true now – Wade’s talking up all the things they could do and the many ways he could make Logan feel good, all pressed between fervent neck kisses that make him arch and pant and whine.

“Yeah, big guy?” Wade purrs down at him. “Aww, look at you. We’re all riled up this morning, aren’t we?”

As an answer, Logan locks his arms around Wade’s back. He grapples him, swinging a leg over until their positions are switched yet again, drinking in the broad grin on his boyfriend’s face.

Boyfriend. What a vast and terrifying concept.

“And whose fault is that?”

Logan pulls at the edge of Wade’s tank top, stretching it down until he can lick and bite at enough of his chest to be satisfied. Covering his skin with little nips and marks, then sinking down lower, hovering over his abdomen, pushing the shirt up to Wade’s ribs so he can lavish over his scarred and puckered stomach. The scent of arousal colors the air, thick and sweet, and Logan nudges his head against the waistband of Wade’s boxers – his boxers – with a moan.

Breathing faster with the anticipation of what’s about to happen, Wade’s having a difficult time keeping up with any potential banter. One of his hands returns to Logan’s hair, where he knows he likes them. Logan rises into the touch, his eyes dark and needy.

“I’d like to plead not guilty, Your Honor,” says Wade, watching with unmatched interest as Logan pulls down the boxers and slips his cock free. “Pretty sure you’re the one who started this whole shebang.”

Pausing to shrug as if to say you got me there, Logan smiles up at Wade before pressing a kiss to the base of his dick. If he really wanted to, he could argue that the way Wade looked in his boxers had compelled him to be a little hornier than usual. But honestly…he’s too eager to suck him off.

Because he fucking loves this.

Getting to turn his brain off and do something with his body that feels incredible instead of awful. Quite literally the polar opposite of what he’s been doing for the majority of his life – the fighting and violence, the brutal misery of it all. Sex with Wade still feels like something he shouldn’t let himself be doing, especially when Wade indulges all the guilty little pleasures that have long gone untouched in the back of Logan’s psyche.

Most of all, it feels so good to let go with a partner. Sure, he’s tangled with other mutants in the past, but there was always a part of him that had to hold back. Whatever he could possibly do to Wade, Wade can not only take, but will likely even enjoy. The possibility of anything and everything melts on his tongue like mint chocolate, something to savor. Something rare.

And now that he’s had a taste, he is never, ever letting go.

He tries to take his time, to make this sultry and teasing, but it’s so hard. Wade’s cock is inches from his face, dripping and straining for attention. Logan doesn’t stop to do any of the usual tricks – no fanning his breath over the length of it or lapping up the pre-come. No pausing to tease that extra-sensitive spot right under the head. Logan only has the patience to kiss a fierce, hungry line, look right at Wade, smirk, and then swallow him down.

“Fuck, kitty cat,” Wade hisses. “Going straight for the kill shot today, huh?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, giving him wordless snark. Pausing for a moment to see if this particular merc is keen on giving him more mouth before he continues what he’s trying to do. When the answer seems to be no, he continues, sinking down deep between Wade’s spread legs to take as much of him as he can. Opening up the back of his throat to make more room, aware that he’s going to start drooling any second.

The attention leaves Wade nearly senseless. When Logan remembers to look up – to get the eye contact that the other man loves, but still sometimes leaves him feeling vulnerable, even despite the intimacy of what they’re already doing – Wade’s gazing at him with the most punched-out expression of need. As if Logan’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen (though he's got greying hair and wrinkles and all the other things he secretly worries make him unattractive).

The way his mouth hangs open a little bit drives Logan fucking crazy. He can hear every gasp and whine, Wade’s earnest brown eyes on him, his throat bobbing, sweat beginning to shine on his exposed skin. Logan makes a desperate sound of his own, achingly hard in his boxers as he sucks Wade’s cock sloppy and fast.

“Baby, that’s so good, you feel so fucking good, fucking perfect on my cock, aren’t you?”

He increases the pace in response, growling low and pleased in the back of his throat.

“Such a good boy,” Wade gasps, the hand in Logan's hair twisting harshly. Logan whines again, feeling his cock jolt at the sensation. “God, you're perfect, first taking the dog out and now this – oh, I'm definitely about three paragraphs away from coming in your mouth –”

Logan can’t wait anymore. He ruts against the firm line of Wade's calf, aching to be touched in any way he can get. His eyes slip closed, a shiver of pure relief traveling down his sun-freckled shoulders. The simple friction is clumsy, reminding him for one burning second of the way he’d jack off as a much, much younger man – but he can’t be bothered to give a fuck. Especially not with the way Wade’s fucking into his mouth now, his voice threatening to pitch into a whimper.

Forcing himself to look up to catch the look on Wade’s face, Logan’s just in time to see him arch, gorgeous, off the bed, hands scrabbling out of Logan’s hair to cover his face.

“Logan, sweetheart, so fuckin’ hot, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop–”

Breathing hard through his nose, Logan fucks his leg in earnest, slobber dripping down from his mouth to pool all over the base of Wade’s cock. Only seconds later, Wade bucks his hips one last time and comes, gushing praise that Logan can hardly make out. He's too focused on wrapping his free hand around what he doesn't have in his mouth, milking Wade for everything he's worth, swallowing down what he’s given. Pausing his own enjoyment for a minute to focus on his partner’s – because that in itself is beyond sexy.

When it's clear that he's too sensitive to take any more, Logan lets up. Wade, still a little starry eyed, pats the mattress in a gesture for him to scoot up.

“C’mere, peanut. Your turn.” And he goes, like a domesticated animal, crawling up until Wade can reach him. Hardly pausing to peel off his underwear, annoyed when they hinder the process. Knocking his forehead gently to Wade’s as he collapses on his side, sighing out a sound that turns into a moan of relief as a hand finally wraps around his cock. Knowing he won’t last more than a minute and knowing that he won’t get any shit for it, at least not any that would actually hurt his feelings.

On their sides, Wade jerks him off fast and rough, just the right way to get Logan to come if he needs it right now. He can feel more than see Wade grinning at him, quick open-mouthed kisses landing on his face and mouth and neck as Logan feels the rush of orgasm coiling up tight. One hand curls and uncurls into a fist, an unconscious effort to keep from slicing through Wade or the mattress below them.

Of course, Wade notices. He never misses a fucking beat.

“You’re alright, princess,” he says softly. “Go ahead. Give me your best.”

“M’gonna come,” Logan chokes out. He’s meeting Wade’s hand with his hips, shaking the bed. “Wade –”

The orgasm hits like a waking dream, and as promised, Logan covers Wade’s hand and stomach in warm spurts.

This is far from the first time he’s come, hard, while slicing through various parts of his boyfriend’s body. Today it’s his side, spearing into his skin like it’s butter. In the back of Logan’s mind, he registers which organs he’s punctured before the claws are sliding out, Wade’s skin knitting itself neatly back into place. Blood dribbles down his stomach and onto the sheets below – lucky for them, they got smart about buying dark sheets several romps ago.

Unfortunately for Logan, his fight or flight response doesn’t always think these sorts of things are consensual. His heart will sometimes stay pounding for long minutes after they’re done when the claws are involved. Which is fucking annoying, because they’ve already talked circles around it. Jess, his therapist, says it probably has something to do with a lot of unresolved trauma he’s had over the years. Like he’s supposed to just unpack all of that in the span of a year or even ten.

Wade notices him again. Their foreheads bump.

“Good?” he asks.

Logan nods. “Good.” He takes a deep breath, willing his pulse to resemble something normal. “What time are we headed out?”

“Hmm…” Wade rolls over on his back, contemplating. “Probably gonna need at least… two hours to up my glam factor? Maybe three?”

Scoffing, Logan hauls himself out of the bed on wobbly knees. He extends a hand to help Wade do the same.

“Thought this was a date, not your runway premiere,” he says, grinning at the resulting look on Wade’s face as he strips out of his blood-stained, come-covered tank. They open the bedroom door to a very excited Mary Puppins wagging her tail. Wade acknowledges her while Logan steps into the bathroom to get the water running for their shower. These things go easily now; most of the time, neither one of them has to ask the other how sex is going to go down. They flow through it, and help one another untangle any knots that might appear along the way.

“It could be both! I do things in my spare time that you don’t know about.”

Together, they step under the water, comfortable enough to know who wants to go under the water first and who’s washing what when.

“Haven’t seen you on Drag Race yet, so you must not be that prevalent.”

“Oh you are a catty bitch –” Logan ducks as Wade attempts to ram his face into the tile wall, laughing a little. Their shower is definitely not big enough for roughhousing, but that’s never stopped them. It does, however, piss off their landlord every time there’s a new crack in the wall. They’re on the verge of being some of her least favorite tenants – surely held back only by all the sweet talking Wade does and all the peace offerings Logan brings around in the form of homemade meals.

(Standing 4’11’’ at full height, nothing scares Wade more than Logan yelling it’s Rhonda over his shoulder from the front door – and Rhonda peering under his elbow, barking out Wade I swear to God if your ugly ass little rat dog pisses in the hallway one more time –)

He invokes her wrath now, and it’s enough to make Wade settle down and wash.

Once they’re thoroughly scrubbed clean, Wade drops the towel over Logan’s head, playfully tousling his hair.

“Seriously though,” Logan hears as he fights his way out of the towel. “I’m gonna need a hot minute, so you go ahead and get your war paint on first, peanut.”

“If you’re sure,” he shrugs. Not like he’s been on a date for far longer than he’d like to confess to, but Logan’s go-to takes less than twenty minutes.

“‘Kay bye!”

Wade shuts the bathroom door, leaving Logan alone with his reflection in the mirror. He’s smiling, all soft and stupid, the look almost unfamiliar on his own face.

Yeah, mornings could be pretty damn good around here.

[alastorsfuckassbob]

Killing Me Softly- 4

AlastorxFem!Reader part 4

A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI

Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.

⚠️Warnings:⚠️

-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)

-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)

-Alcohol use AND abuse

-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~

-A LOT of cursing 🤠

 You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again. 

You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.

After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment. 

 You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. 

Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die.  It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.

 Unlike Alastor,  Val owned you. 

Unlike Alastor, he was there 

Unlike Alastor, 

you could actually feel his lips on your skin.

He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart. 

Val  insisted he “loved” you in his own way.  From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.      

You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.

 Valentino did. 

His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.

 His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation. 

“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”

It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.

  Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror.  Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door. 

As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.

 The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below.  Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall.  It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama. 

“Amorcito”

Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.

“Right, I forgot.”  He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you. 

“Do you need something Val” you ask.  It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.  

“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?” 

You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment. 

“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?” 

You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.

“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. 

"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one. 

To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.” 

You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too. “I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?” 

With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from?  You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.

“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal.  “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”. 

Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases. 

“In my opinion we shred it”  His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.

Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it. 

“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask. 

“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext. 

“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.

“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin. 

“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito” 

He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.

You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought. 

A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony. 

"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath.  He was supposed to be dead.

Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom. 

The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor. 

He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind. 

With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you.  “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.  

 Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles;  he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it. 

“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends 

“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider. 

“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.

“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already"  Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.

“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin. 

He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive. 

"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him. 

"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is  no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story"  A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.

" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work. 

Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp"  Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him. 

"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory. 

"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise. 

Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted.  Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated.  He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different. 

Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more. 

 Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand. 

“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head”  He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system. 

“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass. 

 You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back. 

 His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety.  His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.

“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear. 

He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds  in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. 

“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat. 

Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.

“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass. 

You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.

“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams. 

The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance. 

A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.

“I heard he sang a good song

I heard he had a style”

This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.

“And so I came to see him

To listen for a while”

You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head.  You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette. 

Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.

On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him.  It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later.  His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff. 

“And there he was this young boy

A stranger to my eyes”

 You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body. 

 Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this  didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through. 

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better. 

"Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones  He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair  to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.

"I felt all flushed with fever

Embarrassed by the crowd"

Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your  Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”.  Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together. 

"I felt he found my letters

And read each one out loud"

Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now? 

You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?

He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to. 

"I prayed that he would finish

But he just kept right on"

You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.

 1930 New Orleans: Your apartment 

The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.

You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that. 

He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.

You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.

 If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date. 

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.

He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.

  His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.

He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.

Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe. 

 Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.

His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.

“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled  state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand. 

You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?

“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.

“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.

“What happened Al?”  You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.

“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you. 

“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged. 

“I  had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person. 

“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al”  Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.

“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.

“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.

“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.

“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

"He sang as if he knew me

In all my dark despair"

1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later

Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances. 

You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.  

With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind.  You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this

“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.

“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.

"And then he looked right through me

As if I wasn't there"

“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.

"And he just kept on singing

Singing clear and strong"

"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.

"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.

"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.

“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.

“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear” 

Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense.  He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status. 

"Telling my whole life with his words"

No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of  love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.

"Killing me softly with his song"

He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that. 

The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.

“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there

As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face. 

“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.

“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves. 

“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?

“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment" 

“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath. 

“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.

You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.

“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further. 

“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.

“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.

“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.”  Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.

“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.

“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.

“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky. 

“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.

“Did he live a good life?”  He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.

“ Yes..he did" you finally respond. 

Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow. 

"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.

He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn’t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you. 

“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.

“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.

“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.”  The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind. 

“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.

“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.

“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.

“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do."  He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?

“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.

“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.

“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.

"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.

“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.” 

You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.

“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror. 

“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.” 

The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said. 

 In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one. 

He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he?  He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you. 

As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made. 

 “Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.

 His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams. 

 His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.

“Who did this to you” 

“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold. 

“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away. 

“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink. 

“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“

“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away. 

“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.

“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair. 

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.

Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask. 

A/N:

Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!

Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Shackles of Love ||

Summary: Your husband Pete reads the epilogue of the book you're on and there's only one way to keep him from spoiling it for you now… 

Pairing: Dark Husband!Pete Brenner | Naive Wife!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Pete Brenner. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft-dark!Pete Brenner, non-con/dub-con elements, boob play, humping, stockholm syndrome, age-gap, m!dom, f!sub, power imbalance, housewife kink, misogyny, bondage/chaining, brainwashing, choking, teeny bit of overstimulation. 

Note: I contemplated whether to make this dark or not but then said what the hell?! Shorter than usual (I think) because it's been a hot minute.

MASTERLIST

"Aw, thank you, baby." Pete flashed you the million dollar smile that had charmed you so much the first time you saw it that it had directly led to this very moment. 

"Honey~" you sweetly called out to your loving husband in that one tone he adored so much that he preferred you spoke to him in it all the time. "Here~" you held out the mini tray containing a chilled beer and loaded sandwich for him to snack on while he watched some old movie that you were frankly too young to know anything about.

You smiled and turned on your heels to place yourself next to him on the couch that faced the tv, feeling a tiny butterfly flutter in the base of your tummy due to how he patted the spot beside him for you to sit in that dominant way of his. The man could literally so much as breathe and have your whole stomach flip. He had you whipped. 

Not much interested in the rather vintage movie, you turned to your book that you had bookmarked before leaving to make your husband a sandwich because he liked a snack or two with his movies. Your fingers hurriedly turned the pages as you found your chapter, bottom lip moving itself between your teeth in excitement. You had been perfectly engrossed in a particularly thrilling part where a plot twist was unfolding when your husband had ordered- no, requested his craving. 

Why would Pete ever order you outside the bedroom? Pfft, no way. He was a very giving and kind husband who would never disrespect you!

Yes, maybe sometimes he was just a little mean during punishments but it was never not duly deserved. 

It wasn't unfair. Not by a long shot. Pete worked hard for the both of you and your future family throughout the week so you could stay at home in pretty dresses and do whatever you pleased. Your only jobs were to cook, clean and take care of his husbandly needs. 

And that was all!

You weren't the one who had to go out into the scary outside world and deal with all those dangerous people that lurked past the protective doors of your house! Honestly, if it weren't for Pete being such a supportive and devoted husband, you didn't know where you would be right now.  

You would be cold, alone and miserable with no one to protect you. His words from training time faintly rang in your ears.

Pete was right. 

He always was. 

Your love was the only one who meant you no harm and could keep you safe. 

Everyone else had already failed you or eventually would. Even your parents. Because seriously, what guardian is so careless as to take their child to baseball games where the ball could crack your skull open anytime! Honestly, how careless could your father be! Your mother was no different because, what kind of a woman encourages her daughter to have a career instead of teaching her the much needed and important domestic skills so she could keep her future family happy and healthy! Making you risk your precious life by letting you persue a career in law out of all! 

If this wasn't the prime example of the fact that no one except for Pete truly cared about your comfort and safety, you didn't know what was. 

Yes, so what if he had roofied your drink in the bar before taking you to your real home with him? He had only meant well! You had been far too headstrong and stupid a girl back then to know proper manners for someone your gender. But Pete had been very kind. Though you had fought relentlessly in the beginning and attempted to escape the premises of this house that was nothing but love and care, he forgave you for everything! 

How much more wonderful could this man get?! 

Your husband had smiled at every insult, laughed at every injury you had inflicted on his skin and heart, kissed away every tear you had so foolishly shed. 

And then he had taught you proper wife etiquette. 

Honestly, no one had ever bothered to put up with you that much. 

"Honey?" Pete called out to you in a semi-distracted tone, blue eyes still trained on the tv as you stared at the pages in front of you with wide eyes as a realization washed over you. But before you could communicate your thoughts like you had been taught to do so, your husband continued. You hummed for him to go on, mind still stuck on the page. "Want to know something real funny?" 

Obedience had been woven into every fiber of your existence. So you turned your head to look at him with curious eyes after making a mental note to tell him what you had realized just now later. Because Pete always came first. So you had to await your turn.

"Funny?" You tilted your head to the side, one arm looping around his arm as you perched your chin on his shoulder. "Sure, dear! I like funny…" Your nose crinkled a little as you smiled in the way he had taught you. 

A devious smile spread over your husband's lips. "I read the epilogue while you were in the kitchen" it took you a few moments to realize what he was hinting at. He had done it before and the way he finally turned his head to look at you with mischief dancing in his ocean blue eyes, placing the now empty tray on the table in front of the couch, you knew he was about to do it again. 

"No! You didn't!" You squealed as he laughed in the comic typical evil way, tackling you until your back was flat against the couch. "No! Please, honey! No!" You helplessly whined as you shook your head violently, tossing the book open and hurrying through the words. "I am almost at the epilogue! You cannot do this to me!" 

"That's just a shame, isn't it?" The protestant kicking of your feet that rested on his back now caused a clinking sound in the air due to the thick iron cuff enclasped around one of your ankles.

"Noooo! Pleeeeease!" You pouted as his goatee gently pricked your fingertips that were pressing against his mouth in a desperate attempt to quieten him. "Honey, please! I've been a good girl!" That was the reason why you had maintained your reading privileges for three straight weeks at this point. "You're being cruel for no reason!" 

"Aw. Don't you remember?" Prying your fingers off his mouth was no challenge to the older man. "Husbands can do whatever they want whenever they want…" You whined loudly as you ignored the tingle in your nether regions that his dark tone had caused, flipping the page and hurrying through the words, holding the book between your faces. "Okay, soooo… what happens is–"

"Ohmygosh you're so meeeean!" Now your free hand desperately darted to your own body before you fished out one of your boobs from the neckline of your dress. A whimper escaped from your lips when you reached for Pete's nape next before arching your back to further close the gap between your bodies. The action clasped the space of your husband's mouth shut as he hummed against your tender flesh now. 

Pete had this rather mean way (that you didn't actually mind) of torturing you when you were reading sometimes. He would sneakily read from a section way ahead of where you were and then tease you with spoilers until you shoved his mouth with one of your private parts. 

You faintly recalled being heavily opposed to it at one point.

But there was no other way to stop him when he was at this. 

And that was alright because he was your husband who loved you and loved him.

… Right?

"Hmmm~" you softly moaned in the way he liked. His clothed dick instantly stiffened under your pussy like it always did; a confirmation that you had done the right thing. Your hips that were not as securely clad as your husband's began to slowly piston against his crotch, the dress being the only cover for your bottom since you weren't allowed underwear inside the house. Pete liked you accessible 24/7. So he could bend you whenever he pleased over any surface with no hassle. 

It was the least you could do after all that he did for you. 

Your legs tightened around Pete's waist as did his arms around yours. It was crazy to you how easy it was for him to handle your body however he desired since he physically looked more on the lean side. But his strength was no joke, you were nothing but a doll between his fingers.

And the reminder always made your wifey parts quiver. 

"Hmmm… my perfect wife~" Pete's husky grunt caused your holes to clench around empty air as he latched onto your other boob that you had pushed out next. "Such a good slut… knows exactly what I like…" Your brows were furrowed and hands shaky, breaths hitting the paper that you struggled to both hold and read without dropping it on your face. "It's almost as if-" a loud sucking noise erupted in the air when he forcefully pulled his mouth away from your hardened nub, the feeling causing your back to arch as your hips increased their pace. "-As if you were only born so you could be my good little wife, huh baby?" His slightly rough hands were manly and strong against the soft skin of your chest, lips and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin while the goatee caused the tickles that never failed to tip you over the edge. 

"B- Because I was, hubby!" You whimpered submissively as you failed all your attempts to make sense of the words in front of you. Pete had already told you why this was and he was right. 

You were far too simple minded to multitask. 

"What was that?" As his hips started to work against yours, the soft burn of the expensive fabric of your dress rubbing against your throbbing and leaking pussy caused tiny droplets of sweat to form on your temples. The book fell from your hands and on the ground besides the couch at last. 

"I- I was only born s- so I could be your good little wife, hubby!" You cried out as you attempted to sink your nails in his shoulders but your husband beat you to it. 

"That's fuckin' right…" Pete's breaths were heavy as he reached for the chain that connected to your ankle cuff and pulled it upwards. It was locked around a sturdy hook hidden under the living room couch on the other end. Long enough to allow you to move around the house to perform your wifely tasks but not an inch longer to entertain any funny or rebellious– dangerous attempts that could be made while he was out earning your bread and butter. Only Pete had the key that could unlock it. 

You whined loudly when he deprived you from touching him while exposing your aching core in an even more intimate position at the same time by snaking the chain around your wrists and holding both your hands as well as your shackled ankle above your head. 

The new position further distanced your pussy lips as you rubbed your swollen flesh against the soft material of his trousers now, your dress a wrinkled mess in the middle of your body. 

"Mmm… I need you so bad, hubby…" You whispered out, throat dry and face twisted in need and want. "Please…" 

"Do you deserve it, huh baby?" Now he laid out some of the cold chain against your throat with his free hand, lips parted and eyes dark. "Have you been a good wife for me?" 

You vigorously nodded, clenching around air once more as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he applied pressure to the makeshift leash against your windpipe, the loss of air and realization of the imbalance of power causing you to pant and hump the man harder. 

Pete could do to you literally anything that he desired and you would happily let him just to please him. 

That was your only priority after all; your real duty.

"You're gonna have to use your words, honey…" Your husband released your windpipe as he spoke, causing your back to arch once more to try and breathe better. 

"I… I…. deserve it, hubby. I really do… I've been s- so good… I promise…" Your chest rose and fell as it glistened under the lights due to the tiny beads of sweat coating it along with Pete's saliva. "I- I deserve you~" your last word was a gasp against his lips that he finally smashed against yours, chaining down your windpipe again as he helped stimulate your worked up pussy by moving his own hips in sync to yours. 

You were too close. It was dangerous. You had to break away and ask his permission if you didn't want to get punished. Cumming without Pete's permission was always followed by cruel edging that stretched on for weeks. Your husband was a master at taking you high to the point of utter dumbness only to leave you deprived and trembling at the last moment.

But you liked to kiss him so much…

That and you didn't want him to feel like you were prioritizing your pleasure over kissing him.

That would be such a selfish thing to do!

And good wives were supposed to be giving, understanding, patient and supportive.

It was a dilemma.

But as always, your knight came to your rescue and you knew you could never love him more than you did in this moment. "Cum for me and I'll consider…" It was like he could read your body and boy did you adore him for it.

Your air came back -or rather, was allowed to do so- just as fast as your vision went out when your tense insides finally bloomed open and went crashing over you the barrage of pleasure that had been building up inside of you. You moaned Pete's name along with heartfelt praises as you trembled, hips slowing down to avoid overstimulation as you blinked away the stars in your vision.

Rubbing and humping definitely had their own kinds of orgasms. 

"Atta girl… That's it… Just like that…" Your husband whispered in your ear, his still clothed cock now rock hard against your worked up pussy. "Good girl…" Though he still kept a firm hold on your ankle and wrists, Pete let go of the makeshift leash to reach for your marked boobs that he began to caress. "You feel that, baby?" A soft whine pushed past the pout that formed on your lips. "This is what you do to me…" His voice was strained as he held back a moan, his stiff crotch teasing you now as he let go of your breasts to open his fly.

It was then that it suddenly occurred to you. 

And though you knew from ample experience that it was never pleasant… you had to do the right thing. 

You owed it to your perfect husband. 

"U- Uh, honey…" You hissed out softly, trying to move your hips away from the torturous humping he was still subjecting you to. When Pete didn't respond, you tried again, only this time more timid because you knew too well how he responded to denial and rejection. "D- Darling…"

His nostrils flared as he exhaled loudly in annoyance. "What?" Your bottom lip wobbled at his snappish tone. 

The man of the house did not like to be delayed when he wished to wreck his lady apart. 

"I- I need to tell you s- something…" Pete gave up fiddling with the fly, looking up at you now. 

"And it can't wait?" Your eyes stung when he refused to mend his tone but you told yourself it was because he wanted you so bad that he didn't want anything to come between you two. 

Yes, that was it.

The truth. 

Pete had told you this many times. 

"I- I don't think you would like it…" Averting your gaze from his heated one and training it on his neck, you whimpered out your next words because of how his body had suddenly stiffened against yours. "I- I…" You bit your lip, already heightened heart rate refusing to slow down. Pete appreciated it when you were honest about this, you didn't understand why it was making you feel so panicked and sad.

Hopeless. 

"D- Dangerous memories have been r- resurfacing again…" His tone and expression instantly changed after hearing this. They were darker but less rude now. 

"Oh…" Pete stopped for a few moments to recollect himself. "F- For how long, baby?" 

"D- Dunno… didn't really notice it until I remembered a whole episode from my time in court in the m- morning…" You couldn't help but whimper when you looked back up at him. 

He seemed almost dumbfounded for a second before he spoke. "I see, honey…" Stopping for a few moments, Pete let go of your chains to caress your hair lovingly. "... And… What do we do when that happens, baby?" Your husband's voice was barely above a whisper as he peeked up at you with skeptical eyes. 

"W- We have to go downstairs to fix it so the dangerous memories cannot form any silly ideas in my simple baby mind, hubby…" The man's worried expression changed to one of surprise.  

And then the biggest smile made its way on his handsome face. 

"Aren't the most perfect little girl, huh?" You couldn't help but blush and relax when he went back to being nice.

Disappointed and angry Pete was one you preferred to avoid at all costs. 

"I just love you, hubby…" It came out the way the man had programmed you to say it before you gently pressed your mouth to his. "Wanna please you and make you happy…" Your husband pulled at one of your cheeks lovingly before he peppered soft kisses around your nose, making you giggle from how his goatee tickled your skin. 

"So, then… shall we?" The older looked almost proud and smug as he crawled off of you and undid your ankle cuff, softly caressing the slightly red skin before he offered you a hand to sit up. 

You smiled as you pushed away a rather unfamiliar stinging in your chest, focusing on the man in front of you instead as you took his hand and stood up, naively following him out of the living room and into the basement, hand in hand with your fingers intertwined.

Pete smirked to himself darkly as he turned the dial of the combination lock on the door of the basement cell before opening it for you to step in. He could still remember the time when you used to push all of your faculties to try and override the lock system somehow. 

All that fight to get out only to voluntarily step in with a smile now. 

You were definitely Pete's Magnum opus.

[garkgatiss]

{{esquivalience}}, The Auteur, and Doctor Who the TV Show

alright so this novella.

First, its provenance: I was googling the Twist at the End song last week because it's catchy as hell. I ended up on the Tardis wiki and realized that there was a song by the exact same name that appeared in a licensed DWU novella that was published April 9th. As in, last month. Which is weird. It's hard to say how weird, but given the timing, it either has to be a) pure coincidence (lol), b) someone who worked on the show abusing their advance knowledge of plot details for personal gain, or c) intentional coordination between showrunner and novella-writer, a la Joe Lidster writing John Watson’s blog for BBC Sherlock.

The likelihood of (a) is decreasing by the week. I feel like I have to entertain the idea of (b) happening, but it's hard to square why a DWU-writing supernerd who is also involved somehow with the production of the show would risk a lifetime of blackballing from DW for a bit of cheap promotion for their extended-universe tie-in novella. I am so sorry to be saying this, but I think (c) might actually have legs.

The novella's title is {{esquivalience}}, which is a fake word invented in real life by editors of the New Oxford American Dictionary. The invented word means "deliberate shirking of one's official duties", and it was added to the dictionary to protect the copyright of the electronic version. In S9, Face the Raven showed us a “trap street", i.e. a fake street drawn on a map by a mapmaker to identify any copyright infringement of said map -- a dictionary entry for a word made up by the dictionary editors operates similarly as a copy-trap. The definition is apt for a copy-trap as well, because anyone illicitly copying a dictionary is themselves shirking a job they ought to be doing themselves... it's clever, it's very fun, we're off to a great start.

{{a crash course in esquivalience below the cut}}

THE STORY:

The unnamed protagonist applies for a custodial job at this library that serves basically as a databank for the history of everything in the universe. If a book about something is thrown away, that something ceases to have ever existed. Exhibit A: Protagonist works in the Dead & Dying Language Department. They throw away The Book of Belgian Dutch, and a) a couple coworkers with Belgian Dutch heritage either disappear or get completely different names/family trees, and also b) everyone quickly forgets that Belgian Dutch was ever a thing to begin with.

The librarians cover for this accidental deletion of reality by copying/fudging a new book on "Belgian Gerench", their name for what they replace Belgian Dutch with. They try to catch most of the people who were deleted, bring them back, and fit them into that new language/culture/ethnicity bucket they just made up.

(The narration explains that because both Belgian and Dutch still exist separately as concepts, there aren't too many knock-on effects in terms of loanwords in other languages that needed to be modified/recovered. It also explains that time-traveling back to make an exact copy of The Book of Belgian Dutch wouldn't work because of the universe's copyright laws or something.)

Protag then comes after the head of their department, the Head Dictionary Contributor, or Head DC. They find him in a hidden room called the Internal Reference Room. Instead of languages, the books here hold the life stories of every employee, which auto-update as the person lives their life, but can also be edited or destroyed to alter that person's reality. Protag sits down with the Head DC's lifebook and starts adding and erasing things.

It turns out that Head DC knows how wrong editing these books can go from personal experience. Years ago, wanting to leave his mark on the universe, the Head DC chose to add his own copy-trap into The Book of Dutch -- the fake word "esquivalience". This action seemingly created the concept of cutting corners at your job, leading to the insufficient vetting of Protag for this job and therefore their subsequent hiring, which results in Head DC's eventual death.

Head DC pleads with Protag for his life, but Protag is undeterred. They finally tear out the final page in Head DC's book, which kills him. Protag then writes themselves in as Head DC. Settling into their new role, they turn their attention to The Book of English (8th to 25th Century). They first look up the dictionary entry for “esquivalience”, which says it came to English from Dutch, and then flips to the entries for “ravel" and “unravel”, described as contranyms from Dutch roots, both “meaning variably to tangle or to fray”.

This is the central story of the novella. There is also a Prelude and Postlude that describe the lives of two young men, first in a reality in which they never meet, and then in a reality in which they do meet and fall in love (their meeting is enabled by one of them skivving off work in time to make it to see the movie where they first meet -- esquivalience!)

Just before the Postlude, there is also printed the lyrics to a song (see below), and an excerpt from The Book of English, this volume covering the 4th to 5th billionth centuries of history. This excerpt again gives the definition of “unravel”, but refers the reader to an appendix for the full list of definition, and notes they are “largely in usage as reference to Unravel, The” and “N.B. to be used with extreme care and caution”.

NOVELLA-SHOW CONNECTIONS:

Mavity [Wild Blue Yonder]: Mavity happened all the way back in Wild Blue Yonder, so it's not necessarily surprising to see it in a novella published in April 9, 2024, but there's a whole scene establishing that the M has seemingly replaced the G in all Romance languages, while Domhantarraingt in Irish-Gaelic is unaffected.

Rope [The Church on Ruby Road]: We're all learning the vocabulary of rope now! The Unravel is what the novella calls the meta-historical revisions caused by making edits to the books. There are also rope/weaving metaphors everywhere. Again, the rope themes of the TV show predate the April 9 novella just far enough that in theory it would have been possible for the novella to have taken inspiration from the 2023 Christmas Special. Except. The wiki page for The Unravel credits ownership of the concept to Jamie H. Cowan, the author of the novella. Not just that, but The Unravel was used – with credit to Jamie – in a DWU short story collection published December 26, 2023 – the day after The Church on Ruby Road aired.

Dot and Bubble [Dot and Bubble] : At this point, “Dot and Bubble” is a contextless episode title to me, first announced on March 31. In the novella, we get this:

The Twist At The End [The Devil’s Chord] : Just before the novella's Postlude, there are the lyrics to a song called “The Twist At The End”. Just listed there, no context, like an azlyrics.com entry. They are not the same lyrics as the song in The Devil's Chord, but then, meta-historical revision would kind of be the point, wouldn't it? There's just this sentence to connect it to anything happening in the narration: "Somewhere, in the far distance, as ______ continued to erase, an old 1960s Earth tune began to play."

EDITED TO ADD: @corallapis has pointed out to me that not only did the existence of the song "Twist at the End" by John Smith and the Common Men leak, but the novella's author tweeted about it in December 2023.

The Chumerian languages of the planet B’llauit, for instance, needed much consideration. Particularly Krulvan. There was still a great deal of work to be done in compiling the post-technoweb aspects of Krulvan. Like how most emotional words and phrases contracted more and more, until finally, they were little more than abbreviations. The old dot-and-bubble effect.

A parent’s love was no longer expressed post-technoweb as “Kal-at lur amoi”, but instead as merely “KLA”. Which needed to be carefully distinguished in the relevant encyclopedia from another abbreviated Krulvan phrase “Kal’ati Lepr’en Acrumpsal” – which was something rather equivalent to the expletives of other languages like “D’Arvit”, or “Bleno”.

It's only a brief mention in the book, so it's possible in theory that it was added after the episode titles were released, or even after the novella’s publication (Amazon allows post-publication changes up to 10% of the text, and it’s not possible to track those changes). I’ve included the second paragraph because it’s interesting that the example they’ve given is the word for a parent’s love, which we can see as a running theme in this season of DW (though Moffat has said before that the only thing he writes about is a parent’s love, so who knows).

Not the strongest evidence of two-way coordination, but we may learn more when the episode airs.

Dutch [Space Babies, Boom]: Yeah, as in, the Dutch language. The words “spoor” & “smelt” both get a "oo, good word!" callout, spoor in Space Babies and smelt in Boom. These words both have Dutch roots. Splice, the daughter's name in Boom, is not only from a Dutch root, but also means the joining two pieces of rope. I read this novella just before Boom dropped on Disney+, so I can personally confirm that this is not a post-hoc addition to the novella. It hardly could have been anyway, this element is much more integral to the novella’s narrative than any of the other pieces.

The Auteur

This is where this all becomes relevant to the “Doctor Who is a TV Show” theory.

While the Protag is shredding the Head DC’s book, the Head DC is in the room, and what follows is an extremely meta narrative-aware pre-death monologue from the Head DC. He's pleading with Protag to stop changing things in his book, but he also refers to an "It" whose power surpasses them both.

He held eye contact with them as they looked up, “You didn’t pick up Belgian Dutch by chance. It’s how it plays. In weaving coincidences.”

“Just stop reading. Stop changing things. Stop, and we can be spared. Be free! If you keep going, then it will get what it wants. It is a happening [sic]. Out there, and in here in the basement. Everywhere. It will win if you keep going.”

“One day, you’ll make the same mistakes. Goddamn, you will. Because it’s all already written. It has already written it all. The paths, the choices. Rewrites, erasures, and even the contradictions. If you don't just... stop... it will... Unravel us all."

The "It" in question is presumably the author. Like an author writing a story, "It" plays by weaving coincidences, "It" gets what it wants when we keep reading, "It" has already written everything.

The Head DC mentions a special disposal chute, which had recently appeared as if by magic, which enabled Protag’s destruction of Belgian Dutch. Head DC’s references to this “It” suggest that his decision to create a word meaning cutting corners caused his eventual death, not by inventing the concept of cutting corners, but by creating a set-up that the Auteur, a godlike being that cares only for the rules of narrative, was compelled to write a satisfying follow-through for. The Auteur changed reality in order to weave a narratively-satisfying coincidence.

The Auteur is a character from the DW-spinoff series Faction Paradox. The creator of the Faction Paradox universe describes it as “on the surface an SF universe, but it works on the same principles as traditional folklore.”

I am but a humble Moffat scholar, so explaining the character of The Auteur is immediately getting into lore that I cannot even begin to decipher.

But it seems plausible that in the show we’re dealing with a godlike being, someone along the lines of Maestro or the Toymaker, but instead of caring only for the rules of play, cares only for the rules of narrative.

And this being, The Auteur, is altering reality and creating the narratively-satisfying coincidences in 14’s and 15’s timelines, possibly starting all the way back with the coincidence of 14 regenerating as David Tennant and immediately bumping into Donna Noble.

And it seems plausible that this season was created in cooperation with these DWU authors to whom concepts like The Auteur and The Unravel are licenced, and the novella is a tie-in text full of references to the current season to lead savvy superfans on a merry chase that foreshadows the season’s big bad.

Because I... don't really have another explanation for the existence of this novella at this point.

[voltronisanobsession]

Hi!! I have some Dad!Miguel content for you >:)

We all know that Miguel is a very busy man, and I don’t think that would change if he had a kid. So what about teen!reader who got bit by a spider and became spider woman? Reader is recruited to the society without Miguel knowing who we are under the mask. BUT PLOT TWIST!!! We get hurt in a fight and our mask is ruined so he finds out just as we’re passing out from injuries :(((

Happy ending? (Or not, your choice >:) )

Miguel finding out His Kid is a Spider Person

I just wanna let you know I was listening to what was I made for while writing this JUST TO GET THAT EXTRA ANGST

This one is really long so I hope you don’t mind😜‼️

HAHAHA I LIKE YOUR THINKING

Like I can imagine Miguel having a kid who has seen EVERYTHING he went through

The loss of his youngest daughter, him spiraling down from grief, knowing their father willingly left for a while just to be able to be with their younger sister in another dimension

Like that shit took a lot from you, making teen!reader feel… unwanted by the end of it all

Imagine this scenario with me

Reader ALREADY knows what’s happening in the other dimension, worried out of their mind, wondering if their dad will make it out alive

Hurt that he just up and left them. You’re sitting in silence when a portal opens, Miguel walking through it, along with other spiders, some limping, others being carried out

As relieving as it is to see your dad ok, you can’t help but feel disappointed, angry,betrayed in a way when you look at him

None of you guys talk about what happened which causes a rift in your relationship

And now that he’s suffered the consequences of a collapsed universe, we all know Miguel is digging himself in more work in the Spider society

He’s still bitter and angry, mostly at himself, and now his main goal is to protect all universes from any anomalies

But that comes at a price of neglecting you, his only child

You continue your life, Miguel rarely coming home most days. You cook for yourself, clean around the house by yourself, taking care of yourself

On a rare day you decide to visit the spider society, you notice a weird flickering coming from an alley way (so original I know)

Unknowingly, you venture through it, only to find the thing causing all the glitching was a small spider. Finding a small container thrown to the side, you try to capture the anomaly, but the spider had incredible speed, running up your arm and under your shirt

You start panicking when you feel it bite you, immediately swatting it away from your neck

After that, the rest is basically history. You’re too afraid to tell ANYONE what happened, especially Miguel. You know how he is, what he thinks of anomalies.

So you go through these changes in quiet. By yourself, again. You learn how to use your new abilities and start making yourself known in your city

While Miguel is busy with the society, you busy yourself as the up and coming spider hero

Of course Miguel catches wind of this, obviously confused on the new spider person lurking in his dimension

With a new mask covering your face, your able to convince (clumsily may I add) your father that you managed to get thrown into this world after a portal opened

This man literally tries sending you back to ‘your real world’ but Jess tells him it’s better to have you in the team

So your spider journey begins! You get your own watch, become friends with the other spiders, hell you even start growing closer to Miguel, your father, but you never, ever take off your mask

The spider mask gives you a new identity, a new confidence that helps build up your relationship with Miguel

You both go on missions together, the older man kinda taking you under his wing

You guys work well together when capturing anomalies

You’re able to joke around him more often, him scoffing at the dumb ones while you laugh

Over time, he grows to enjoy your presence. He becomes kinda protective of you, constantly telling you to be careful when out on missions

He feels a sense of familiarity when around you, though he can never place his finger on why

He just knows you remind him of someone, your laughter so familiar yet not at the same time

You cherish every moment you have with Miguel, whether it’s sitting in silence while he files some paperwork or dragging him to the cafeteria to eat something

And at the end of the day, you wave goodbye to your friends and pretend to go through a portal, only to swing away from the society back to your home in Nueva York

I feel like teen!reader would be a little bitter over their growing relationship with their dad under a different alias

Why couldn’t you have a normal family relationship with him? Did he prefer your spider version over the real you? It’s still you under the mask but would he be the same if he knew? How would he even react if he ever found out it was you under the mask the entire time?

You only start truly panicking when you get seriously injured during a particularly hard mission

Cut deep on your side and mask ripping, you collapse in pain as Miguel runs to you

Your heaving as short and shaky breaths escape your mouth

Miguel tries picking you up only for you to cry out from the movement

Everything crumbles around you as your dad tries to remove your ruined mask to let you breathe more easily

You stop him from pulling up your mask with a shaky hand, fear laced in your voice

He would look down in worry, you seemed more scared of him seeing your face than of the wound gushing with blood

“Please. Don’t.”

“You need air. I promise I won’t let anyone see your face.”

You breathing quickens as he takes off the mask, your eyes closed in shame, tears falling down like a waterfall

You blearily blink your eyes to look at him, his shocked face the last thing you see before passing out, whether from the pain or from the intense emotions you felt is anyone’s guess

I think after taking you back to headquarters, Miguel would be super conflicted on how to approach the situation

In fact, he’s at a loss for words on what to do

He hadn’t seen you in a long time, but now knowing you were right in front of him the entire time

He would feel ashamed. How could he not know it was you the entire time? Did he even know his own child at this point? What kind of father was he?

When you wake up, there is only two ways this can go

A LOT of talking gonna happen. Maybe even some yelling from both parties

It might end in tears and regret, or it might end in tears and anger

Miguel doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore, and you don’t know to express yourself without bursting into tears

I’ll leave the rest into interpretation for you guys, it really depends on who starts the conversation

It’s either Miguel’s regret or your anger

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Revelation and Confrontation

Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of the season. For the most part, Season 5's episodes have been boring at worst and passable at best, with only about four episodes I'd consider to be outright bad. That pretty much disappears starting here. It's like the writers held back for most of the season, and just as the final arc was about to begin, right when most of the audience was led into a false sense of security, they were like:

Let's get into the twentieth and twenty-first episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Revelation and Confrontation

So, for an episode titled “Revelation”, you'd assume it would focus on Marinette and Adrien finally learning the other's secret after all these years, right? Nope, it's a Lila episode, as in Lila is the character we follow. How does it open? By revealing that Lila has different moms she's conning into believing she's their daughter.

I believe Linkara best captures my reaction to this.

YEP. Right out of the gate, we get arguably one of the dumbest plot twists in TV history. For an episode that's supposed to help us learn more about Lila's life, it's only raising more questions than it's answering, and it feels like it was there just for the sake of shocking the audience.

First off, why is she doing this? What does she possibly have to gain living with three random women who, as far as I can tell, have no political, social, or financial power whatsoever? Her entire motivation is lying to make herself look good so she can kiss up to famous people and ride the coattails of their success. Who the hell are these three people and why did Lila chose to pretend to be their daughter? In fact, are any of them even her biological mother?

Second, how did she even pull this off? I can somewhat buy her tricking her peers into believing her lies, but three grown women all believe this person is their daughter? Did she fake a DNA test or something? Did she frame some other kids for murder? Is one of them the kid in Omelas? Did the other moms adopt Lila? They must have, because I'm pretty sure any of them would know they were pregnant, but how did she fake being an orphan? How has she not been caught? The scene establishing this shows her ending a call with one of her mothers right as another one enters her room. You're telling me nobody has ever walked in on Lila talking with one of her mothers?

Third, just how long has she been doing this for? Has she been doing this her entire life? Did she frame her real mother for tax fraud at the age of five so she could explore the world? When the hell did she start doing this, and how did she even get the resources to do it? Does she have more than three moms?

Finally, what the hell does any of this tell us about Lila? We already know she's a liar and a villain, but what does learning she lies about who her mother is accomplish for the narrative. Outside of a single line to Sabine later on that heavily implies she wants to make her her next mother, this scene is entirely pointless. Sure, it shows how effective of a liar she is, but that's what the episode is already setting out to show us! We already know she's manipulative, so what's the point of any of this?!

Jesus Christ, we're only on the first scene, and I'm already pissed off. You see what I mean about these last seven episodes?

After lying some more, Lila learns an update to the Alliance rings has Kagami replace her as the female avatar. When she goes to ask Gabriel why he's cutting off ties with her, we learn just why Gabriel is such a tactical genius.

Gabriel: You were only the face of my brand in exchange for a mission: to monitor my son's relationships and keep him away from bad company. You failed. My son got close to this Marinette Dupain-Cheng who's been nothing but a terrible influence on him. But you did give me one excellent idea: to create a new media-friendly pairing for my son, which is why Kagami Tsurugi will be the new female face of the Gabriel brand. Perfection itself! All that remains to do is perpetuate this facade until it becomes truth in everyone's eyes. And until jealousy eats away at Marinette Dupain-Cheng...

Lila: But... What's to become of me?

Gabriel: You just remain what you are. Nothing.

Because it's not like Lila is easily your most competent ally (at least, by comparison), and is the only one who doesn't hate your guts, right? Seriously, Lila's biggest motivation other than fame is to ruin Marinette's life, and for the most part, as bad as the writing has been, she has been mostly effective in damaging her reputation (Chameleon, Ladybug, Adoration). For God's sake, if it wasn't for her, you would have been exposed as Monarch earlier this season in “Illusion”! Say what you will about Lila as a character and how stupid everyone acts when she's on-screen, but at least she's good at her job.

Lila walks off fuming, and Gabriel considers akumatizing her, but doesn't want to risk it because of how much she hates him... even though multiple Akumas over the course of the show were people who hated Gabriel or wanted revenge on him (The Bubbler, Simon Says, Style Queen, Heart Hunter, Passion, Action). It also doesn't stop him from akumatizing Lila later on in the episode, because her hatred is now directed at Marinette. And as we all know, it's physically impossible to hate more than one person at a time.

After a quick scene showing Marinette and Adrien's relationship is now public knowledge, we cut to class, where Ms. Bustier is handing back tests.

Also, despite being in the second trimester of her pregnancy (which hasn't been mentioned since the New York Special, over two years before this episode premiered), Ms. Bustier is wearing no maternity clothes to speak of, just her usual outfit with a noticeable baby bump.

I'm obviously not an expert, but I don't think that's good for the baby. If anyone reading this has experience with being pregnant, feel free to correct me.

Ms. Bustier points out that Sabrina put her name on both hers and Chloe's. Ms. Bustier naturally wants to know what the hell is going on.

Ms. Bustier: How long has this been going on?

Chloe: Oh, since we learned to write-- I mean, since Sabrina did.

Yep, after almost five seasons, the writers are now officially resorting to making dumb blonde jokes, the only kind of humor rivaled by fart jokes and racist jokes in terms of being overused and unfunny.

Ms. Bustier lets Sabrina off with a warning and decides to help Chloe make up for the lost work and salvage her academic career. For some reason, even though this is a reasonable response to discovering one of your students has been cheating for years, Marintte has a problem with this.

Marinette: Everybody knows that Chloe been cheating, taking advantage of Sabrina and not making any efforts compared to the others... for years! And the only consequence is that she's going to get help?! Of course, we need to support students who have problems, but not when they're the problem!

If you had a problem with Chloe mistreating Sabrina, THEN WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL MS. BUSTIER YOURSELF? Even Lila points out that Marinette should have pointed this out to the teachers as class representative (I'm not sure if that's a thing in French schools, but let's assume it is for this episode's sake), but Marinette herself says she chose not to.

Marinette: Why would I have? She doesn't have difficulties! Only privileges! And if you need proof to see how the teachers will let her get away with anything!

What was it Alya said in “Origins”? Something about evil triumphing if good people do nothing? Eh, I'll think about it later.

Also, who's to say this isn't a punishment? Chloe is still going to have to make up her work, she'll need more attention from the faculty as a result, summer school is most likely on the table now, and who's to say her dad won't have problems with this? Yeah, we know he's a spineless coward, but let's assume he'll actually act like a parent for once, for the sake of argument.

Despite outright saying that she neglected her duties as class representative, Marinette is shocked Lila takes the chance to suggest she replace her for the job. Later at lunch, like what's happened in every other Lila episode, Marinette tries to tell Alya that Lila is a liar, Alya doesn't believe her for a second, and nothing changes. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that this time, Adrien and Nino are there too! That makes it different!

Seriously, why are we still doing this? It's almost the end of Season 5, and even though Alya is one of Marinette's trusted confidants, the show still needs to have this drama with her not believing her. It honestly feels like a lot of the Lila episodes this season were originally written before Season 4 aired, but something changed, so they just threw them here when it makes no sense for Alya to still doubt Marinette after all this time. It's also why they randomly threw this line in to remind us that Alya knows.

Alya: You know, even Ladybug accepts help from Scarabella every once in a while.

Yeah, mind telling me what happened the last time Alya transformed into Scarabella?

OH RIGHT.

It's during this little conversation where we get the first hint of the episode's moral, and believe me, I'll get to that. Alya tries to reason with Marinette that maybe it's possible for Lila to help Chloe change for the better, which Marinette vehemently refuses to believe. We're clearly supposed to see Alya as being too naive and is oblivious to Lila's true nature, but neither of them know just how bad she really is. We, the audience, know that Lila has worked with Gabriel and Monarch willingly in the past (Heroes' Day, Chameleon, Miraculer, Illusion, Adoration) and that she's living under several fake identities. Yeah, we know Lila hates Marinette and tried to get her expelled in “Ladybug”, but nobody else knows just how bad she is. It doesn't help that Marinette's reasons for Lila only amount to “She's a liar!”, and not “She tried to get me expelled!”, intentionally making her come across as petty so it's easier for Alya to doubt her.

Another thing that makes the whole “Alya thinks Lila can help Chloe change” deal is that we already know Marinette has done nothing to really stop her behavior as class representative or as Ladybug, so it's hard to really act like Marinette contributes a lot to the job, especially when, once again, she willingly admitted to not even trying to reach out to the other teachers about Chloe's grades or how she's using Sabrina to get by in class. Even though Alya doesn't know about Lila's true nature, she's not wrong when it comes to believing someone else could bring something new to the position of class representative.

And this only gets worse, as we see Lila's latest plan to win over the class.

Lila: My dear classmates, I am convinced that even the worst person can change if you reach out to them. And to prove it to you, Chloe, will you be my deputy?

(The whole class gasps in shock)

Chloe: (sighs and walks to the front, putting on a fake smile)

Nino: Wow, is Chloe actually going to be a mere deputy?

Alya: That is so not Chloe!

Rose: Does this mean it's already working?

Mylene: Can Lila actually get her to change?

Marinette: (slams her fists on her table) This is so crazy! It's all lies!

Lila: Poor Marinette... couldn't succeed because she was too busy with her love life, as well as being reminded of her disdain for Chloe. But you know me. You know all about my humanitarian work. I'm used to going into conflict zones. I can do this. There are two weeks left. What do you have to lose? Help me, help Chloe change. Vote for me!

OH, YOU NO GOOD MOTHERFU---

Sorry, sorry. Had a little... episode there. Where were we?

Okay, first off, wow. Are you trying to seriously piss off your fanbase? The whole argument of being able to appeal to the humanity in the worst person is one of the biggest arguments people in favor of Chloe redemption make, so you know damn well this scene was targeted towards them. What was the original draft for this? A still image of Thomas Astruc flipping off the audience?

Second, once again, Lila isn't wrong. As far as we know, Marinette did nothing to really help or stop Chloe over the school year other than foiling the occasional scheme. While we know it's a lie, can you really blame the rest of the class for believing Lila will actually make things better for them by finding a way to stop Chloe from bullying them? It doesn't help that the case Marinette makes for her class representative campaign is that she's giving up on helping Chloe, saying she sucks, and that she's going to help the rest of the class instead. Because we all know showing blatant bias against one of your classmates is a surefire way to win the favor of your peers, right?

As for the speech itself? Well...

Marinette: My dear friends, of course, you should always do everything in your power to help people. And we all hoped that Chloe would become a better person. Ladybug reached out to her. Ms. Bustier reached out to her. So did Adrien and so did I. You all reached out to her. This proves how big your hearts are. And yet, Chloe remained the same. Why? Because as far as she's concerned, having a big heart is a weakness to be exploited. Chloe already believes she's better than all of us. So... don't be fooled. I, for one, am done wasting my energy in vain. As class representative, I'd much rather help all of you because you deserve it a thousand times more.

So here's the main moral of the episode, kids: If you ever decide to be the bigger person and show kindness to someone who is mean to you, it's going to bite you in the ass sooner or later, so never try helping other people change. I just... what the fuck, Astruc?

Yeah, the show tries to point out that being kind to others is still important, but the context of the episode itself doesn't show any examples. You could have used Kim as an example of someone who has changed his ways, but “Derision” retconned him into not being a bully, and Felix isn't even in this episode, so he can't be used as an example. The episode never really provides an argument showing the difference between people who can change their ways and people who choose not to, which is why the lesson doesn't work. How exactly is a child watching this supposed to tell when they're being taken advantage of for their kindness? For a show with an opening that has the lyrics, “The power of love always so strong”, this episode really isn't doing a lot to encourage its audience to show compassion to others.

And we're not done yet. Lila makes up a sob story relating to getting fired, and tearfully says there's no hope for Chloe. Once again, the writers think by having a villain say stuff certain fans believe in, it's meant to automatically invalidate the argument. What are you going to have Lila say next? “Felix should face consequences for his actions”? “Gabriel is far worse than Chloe will ever be”? “Somehow, Chloe is worse than either of her terrible parents”? I'm all ears here.

The entire story was a gambit by Lila so she'd have a cover story, as she plans to attract an Akuma with her sheer hatred for Marinette. Like I said earlier, Monarch assumes that since Lila hates Marinette at the moment, it's impossible for her to harbor any negative feelings towards his civilian identity, choosing to akumatize her into Hoaxer.

Ignoring the fact that the name sounds like it belongs to an antidepressant, Hoaxer is an okay recolor of Volpina. There's not much else to say visually. Her powers involve brainwashing anyone who hears her lies through the Alliance rings... even though she was already able to manipulate others through lying, so this seems like a redundant power to give her. Sure, she can also teleport through the Alliance rings, but that's just something Lady Wifi could already do. Monarch also gives her the Fox Miraculous' Mirage to use so she can create fake footage to back up her lies... even though she already has the power to make everyone believe her lies. Yeah, this upgrade is kind of pointless, isn't it?

Hoaxer's first lie is to say that Marinette is really Monarch. With the exception of Adrien, Ivan, and Mylene (who don't wear Alliance rings), the entire class is brainwashed into hunting Marinette, believing they'll save Paris if they stop her. After Adrien points out how it wouldn't make sense for Marinette to be Monarch if she wants Lila to expose her secrets, he ducks out to transform into Cat Noir, soon meeting up with Ladybug.

Ladybug and Cat Noir steal an Alliance ring from Officer Roger to learn how this power works, only to learn the brainwashing is only effective as long as the victim is wearing an Alliance ring. Hoaxer senses that one of her victims lost their ring, so she turns the rest of Paris against the two heroes by saying that they're from the planet Saturn and fart bubbles that destroy the ozone layer. Believe me, I wish I was able to come up with a line that stupid.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, and gets a sewing machine. She goes back to her house, only to be ambushed by Alya. Ladybug takes off the ring and detransforms, lending the Ladybug Miraculous to Alya so she can transform into Scarabella as part of her plan. Because even though Alya has already been exposed three times in the past two seasons, the animators paid for the Scarabella model, and goddamn it, they're going to get their money's worth out of it. While Cat Noir fends off some brainwashed civilians, Hoaxer uses her powers on Nathalie to get her to send all of Gabriel's private secrets to her. How Monarch doesn't sense this is anyone's guess. Marinette pretends to appeal to Lila's conscience as part of a plan involving her, Scarabella, and Cat Noir, but Lila then rejects the Akuma with ease.

The Akuma somehow de-evilizes itself, Scarabella makes her only contribution to the fight by using Miraculous Scarabella to fix the damage, Monarch still doesn't know Lila now has intel on his civilian identity when he should have a telepathic link with her, and instead blames Marinette for all of his problems.

Back at school, Adrien apologizes to Marinette for not telling her to act against Lila, something that should be huge. It's just that both of them make it about how bad he feels, not about Marinette.

Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette. I was wrong. I shouldn't have told you to act against Lila. If you give the slightest opportunity to people like her, they'll grasp at it and cause disasters in no time. And now, you're the one who looks like a bad person.

Marinette: You thought you were doing the right thing. Just like with Chloe. That's another reason why I love you, Adrien. You always want to see the good in other people. But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness. But we'll find a way to expose Lila eventually.

Nevermind the fact that Lila's lies haven't done anything to negatively affect Adrien at school, only Marinette, so his little pity doesn't feel earned. There's a difference between feeling bad about something and making it all about you. Also, once again, the episode's moral still comes across less like “mean people can take advantage of your kindness” and more like “never trust anyone, as your attempts to show kindness can backfire horribly on you”.

Lila is elected class representative, and Alya still believes her over Marinette. How does Marinette respond?

Marinette: I decided to let her have her way so I can finally prove to you all who she really is.

Spoiler alert, next episode, someone other than Marinette does the heavy lifting to expose Lila, and I doubt it was ever part of Marinette's plan.

The episode ends with Lila learning all of Gabriel's secrets, which would have been a much better opportunity for her to learn he's Monarch instead of learning about it off-screen as far back as “Emotion”.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... MARINETTE

Once again, Gabriel was very close to earning the Biggest Idiot Award for the third time for ditching Lila for no reason and later giving her the tools needed to learn his deepest and darkest secrets, but Marinette edged him out here. Not only did Marinette outright admit to neglecting her responsibilities as class representative, blamed Ms. Bustier for not doing anything about Chloe when she hasn't done anything to stop her either, and made a very poor argument for her reelection campaign by saying that being nice is bad. But hey, maybe her genius plan next episode will make up for it.

“Confrontation” starts off with Adrien struggling to fill out an orientation form for what kind of school he wants to go to next year and what he'll study. I'm not really an expert in French schools, but I'll assume this is how things are done there. Either way, Adrien isn't willing to fill out the form because as we saw in “Pretension”, Gabriel is planning on sending him to a private school in London next year. Why Adrien wasn't excused from this assignment is beyond me.

Adrien: If Marinette finds out that my father's decided to send me to a private school in London next year, it will break her heart and mine, too.

Again, it's really funny how a huge portion of his screentime in Season 4 involved being angry at Ladybug for keeping secrets from him, yet now, Adrien sees nothing wrong with keeping secrets from Marinette, even when it's inevitable that she'll find out. Then again, Plagg's response isn't any better.

Plagg: I know how I would feel if I had to be separated from you, Adrien, and there is nothing funny about that at all.

Then why did you force Adrien to give up his Miraculous in “The Kwamis' Choice”?! I'm pretty sure that was all your idea, as was what happened afterwards with Monarch almost winning.

As Marinette worries about the career stuff, but through some flashbacks showing just how selfish and one-dimensional Chloe and Lila are, she's not exactly confident they have her best interests in mind. Also, remember how Marinette said she supposedly let Lila win at the end of the last episode in order to make progress on finding a way to stop her?

Marinette: I feel like I'm betraying our friends by entrusting their forms to such awful girls.

As we'll later learn, while she does come up with a plan to expose Lila, it was after this scene that it happened, so this doesn't really make it look like Marinette has any ideas to stop Lila after she won at the end of the last episode. After the rest of the class fills out their forms, Lila destroys them all so Sabrina can forge their handwriting. Of course, not before we get another “funny” scene where Chloe struggles to understand their own plan.

Lila: After you destroy the forms, you'll fill out new ones using your talent for forging student's handwriting. I'll tell you what to write.

Chloe: Not so fast! You're using too many words to explain your plan!

GET IT? DO YOU GET IT?! SHE'S RICH AND BLONDE, SO THAT MEANS SHE'S STUPID! WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING AT THIS COMEDY GOLD?!

Meanwhile, Nino calls for another meeting of the totally useful and not at all irrelevant Resistance, citing an issue. Because they're all planning to go to different schools next year, they're not sure how they can help Ladybug and Cat Noir... other than, oh, I don't know, meeting outside of school? It doesn't matter, because everyone unanimously volunteers to go to the same high school next year. Well, everyone except Nathaniel, but that's not important.

After Marinette gets a call from someone, Mylene suggests that the class go on strike against being forced to decide their careers so early in life. This would have made a lot more sense if you chose to do this before submitting your forms, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Adrien finally figures out what he wants to do, so he hands his form over to Lila. What did he write down?

Lila: (reading the letter) “I've been thinking a lot, and still not know what I would like to do later in life. The only thing I know for sure is that I love Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But I guess that doesn't really help you. I'm sorry. Adrien Agreste.”

Minimum wage at Wendy's it is. Good choice, Adrien.

Yeah, I think now's as good a time as any to talk about how flat Adrien's character has been this season. Even though Adrien has gotten more character focus thanks to not being hampered by loads of other side characters and temp heroes, he hasn't really had a lot of strong moments overall. Scenes that should feel like a big deal, like him accidentally Cataclysming Monarch or realizing he has feelings for Marinette are usually downplayed or brushed off so we can see how those events affect other characters. We don't get any scenes with Adrien feeling guild for possibly condemning a man to death because more focus is given to Gabriel dealing with his impending demise. We don't get any scenes that show how Adrien has come to see Marinette in a romantic light because more focus is given to Marinette struggling to deal with his sudden confession. And here's this scene. Rather than showing Adrien developing an interest in something he wants to do for a career, a huge sign of his growing independence, what do we get? Adrien saying he loves Marinette and admitting he has no goddamn idea what he wants to do with his life. Such a defining moment for one of the two main characters in the show. I'm just saying, if the last season made a big deal about Adrien wanting to be treated more importantly, why is he still getting shafted by the narrative?

And for the umpteenth time this season, because Chloe is the one saying that Adrien's form is “pathetic”, we're supposed to not agree with her, even though this is supposed to be a serious form that your teachers will see. Just what is this show's obsession with using strawmen to try and invalidate criticism? I've seen more nuanced takes from political cartoons.

Lila and Chloe present the forged forms to the teachers, assigning all kinds of inaccurate assignments for careers that the students don't want. Lila manages to get one student in particular held back, Marin—Juleka. Yeah, Juleka, Lila's most hated enemy is being forced to repeat a year. Why didn't Lila try to keep Marinette held back?

To be fair, Lila's plan is to slander Marinette specifically, but screwing over the entire class feels like a bit of a reach. I don't even know if part of Lila's plan was to attract an Akuma or not. Speaking of, Monarch senses Juleka's negative emotions and sends a Megakuma her way. Because it's a day that ends with a “Y”, the Magical Charm does nothing, so for the sixth time in the series (not counting her brief appearance in “Ladybug”), Juleka is akumatized into Reflekta. I swear, at this point you could make a drinking game for every time an old character model is reused this season.

Reflekta's design is pretty alright. I like the idea of the shy and quiet Juleka getting a brightly colored form that's impossible to ignore, and her power to make everyone else look like her fits her character. Unlike other returning Akumas this season, Reflekta gets a noticeable upgrade to her powers, as now she can essentially create a hive mind with all of her victims on top of getting the Tiger Miraculous' Clout to do some extra damage. Wow, it's almost like the Miraculous powers should actually serve as upgrades to established powers instead of being the only thing that gives the Akuma their powers.

Reflekta goes to town assimilating more victims, Marinette does nothing to get the still pregnant Ms. Bustier to safety so she can dart off and transform into Ladybug. By the time Ladybug and Cat Noir meet up, the city is crawling with Reflektas.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a plastic tape dispenser. Using Cat Noir's staff and the tape, the two put up a fake brick wall poster in an alleyway. The two heroes split up and draw a Reflekta's attention respectively, pretending to be helpless once they reach a “dead end” at the fake brick wall. When the two Reflektas try to use Clout, Ladybug and Cat Noir duck out of the way, letting the two attacks collide.

Ladybug de-evilizes the Megakuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and gives Juleka yet another useless Magical Charm.

And while you'd think this is where the episode ends, unfortunately, we're only halfway done. Id anything, this entire fight was pointless, and it's going to lead to a lot of problems with the pacing later on.

Back at school, Lila takes the opportunity to pin the blame on Marinette, though when Marinette points out how good Sabrina is at forging handwriting, Sabrina admits to helping them out. While the blame is still on Marinette, Chloe and Lila follow Sabrina when she runs out of the classroom. In the bathroom, Sabrina is still upset about what she had to do, and when Chloe and Lila confront her and try to keep her in line, only for Sabrina to reveal it was a trap for Chloe and Lila to confess their plan in front of the rest of the class, and one that had been set up a few days ago by Sabrina and Marinette.

So after an episode that went out of its way to show how apologetically irredeemable Chloe and Lila are, Sabrina is the one to ultimately turn a new leaf and is the key player in stopping Chloe and Lila's tyranny. Let's go into all the reasons as to why this failed to be a triumphant moment.

First off, why is Sabrina the key player who helps finally expose Lila? Why not Adrien, or Alya, or anyone else in Marinette's class? Rather than work together with her friends to show she wasn't lying, Marinette only works with Sabrina, and they act like they're the close friends working together. What, you thought Adrien or maybe Alya would help Marinette expose Lila like the end of the last episode hinted at? HA! Of course not.

Second, Sabrina's redemption is forced as hell. I'm not saying Sabrina turning a new leaf is entirely impossible, but the show just expects us to forget all the times she's gone along with Chloe's bullying antics (Origins, Mr. Pigeon, Lady Wifi, Dark Cupid, Horrificator, Darkblade, Reflekta, Zombizou, Stormy Weather 2, Lies, Sole Crusher, Gabriel Agreste, Derision, Adoration), and even in this episode, she still helped forge the new forms for Chloe and Lila. Remember how “Derision” said Chloe's actions couldn't be excused by how poorly she was treated by her mother? Funny how Sabrina's actions can be excused by how poorly she was treated by Chloe. The redemption honestly could have worked if it was Marinette who reached out to Sabrina and saw the good in her, teaching the lesson that while some people refuse to change, that doesn't mean other people can't change either. But instead, Sabrina's just a good guy because the plot said so, a deus ex Sabrina if you will.

Third, this was Marinette's plan to stop Lila? Like I said, while the previous episode made it seem like Marinette had an idea on how to expose Lila, this episode showed that Marinette had absolutely no plans prior Sabrina's call, and she handed over the sheets to Chloe and Lila earlier. What was Marinette even going to do if Sabrina didn't call? This only makes Sabrina's redemption feel even more forced, because that was what led to Chloe and Lila being exposed.

And finally, we don't even get a lot of resolution with Marinette's classmates believing Lila over her once she's exposed.

Yes, there was a deleted scene where Alya and the others apologize to Marinette instead of just Ms. Bustier which was supposedly cut for time constraints, but why would you leave that out when Marinette's friends believing Lila over her has always been a sore spot among viewers? If only there was another scene that could have been cut out of the episode that added nothing to the plot over an important character moment showing how guilty Marinette's friends feel.

Chloe and Lila are expelled by Mr. Damocles, but then he gets a call from Andre ordering him to keep them in and do nothing to change the forged forms. Normally, this would be something to make Andre out to be a bad guy, but like Sabrina, because he's being belittled and ordered around by someone else (in this case, Audrey), we're meant to sympathize with him. Trust me, it gets even worse next episode.

Mr. Damocles is upset enough to attract another Megakuma from Monarch. You would think Marinette would transform into Ladybug and save him,but the episode does something different. Somehow, because of the other students telling him to believe in himself, all of their Magical Charms resonate with Mr. Damocles' Magical Charm. And then, his Magical Charm transforms into a shield which de-evilizes the Akuma as soon as it touches it?

I'm sorry, WHAT!?

Yeah... that just happened. I'm happy the Magical Charm actually did something for once, but I don't get why this was the climax of the episode. Why did this episode spend more time focusing on Juleka, Sabrina, and Mr. Damocles instead of Marinette's final battle of wits with Lila? Forget it, it's almost over anyway.

Mr. Damocles sends in the correct forms for the students before he resigns as principal, and we then cut to Ms. Bustier realizing that Chloe is pure evil and needs to face consequences for her actions. What does Chloe say that causes her to come to this revelation?

Ms. Bustier: Where's Lila?

Chloe: How should I know? I'm not the betrayer's mother.

Yep. A somewhat rude answer to a question Chloe doesn't even know the answer to is the last straw for Ms. Bustier. Maybe it's the hormones? Ms. Bustier decides to give extra attention to Chloe going forward, and somehow, that's different from Ms. Bustier wanting to help Chloe make up her schoolwork at the beginning of the last episode. But what happened to Lila, you may ask?

Oh my God, she's cosplaying as T'pol from Star Trek: Enterprise! The fiend!

Yep, Lila abandoned her old school and moved onto one of her other lives, now calling herself Cerise. Okay, a few questions.

First, was she wearing makeup as Lila or something? I'm not sure if it's the lighting in this one scene, but I swear, her skin looks lighter than Cerise here.

Second, how is Lila going to blend in under her new identity when for a while, she was the face of the Gabriel brand? What, is she going to claim that “Lila” is her twin sister or something?

Third, if Lila's trying to blend in as Cerise, why did she throw her old wig in the trash, in broad daylight?

Fourth, why wasn't this scene the one used to establish Lila has multiple lives? It actually feels plot-relevant, unlike the revelation of her having three different mothers last episode.

Finally, we're really going to brush over Lila facing any setback to her vague goals? She got expelled, and we don't even get to see her face consequences for her actions after all these years? What a load...

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...MARINETTE

Yep, Marinette got the award twice in the same two-parter, and this is her third one at that. Adrien was sort of close to winning it with his stupid application form and not doing anything to stop Lila himself, and even though Marinette's plan to expose Lila worked, I still had to give it to her. She willingly gave her and her friends application forms to Chloe and Lila without any plans in case they tried something bad, had absolutely no plan to stop Lila in general until Sabrina came alone, and didn't think to simply de-evilize a Megakuma targeting her principal when Lila was able to sneak out with no problem.

Anyway, these episodes SUCK. I know it might not seem as noticeable compared to my reviews last season, as I've been trying to not get too angry, but I still couldn't stand these episodes.

As always, Lila's lies are incredibly stupid and don't work under the suspension of disbelief, especially with what we learn about her here. What I don't get is that we still don't know why Lila does what she does. I still don't know why she is so obsessed with getting the better of Marinette and Gabriel outside of being petty, and given what happens by the end of the season, it makes her unclear motivation even less excusable. In a pair of episodes meant to give more focus to Lila as she tries to ruin Marinette's reputation right before the school year ends, we really needed more depth for her character.

Marinette wasn't any better. What should have been a standout moment for her this season, she spent most of these two episodes complaining about Chloe and Lila when she did nothing to really stop them, and only made progress when Sabrina had a change of heart out of nowhere. Hell, even then, Chloe and Lila barely faced any setbacks for their actions. Marinette honestly felt very underutilized in what should have been an important set of episodes for the season.

Adrien didn't fare any better. He barely got to do anything and unlike Marinette, he wasn't even involved with the final plan, despite the ending of “Revelation” hinting that he and Marinette were going to work together to stop Lila. And then there's the form he filled out where he pretty much confirmed that he has no goals in life and that the writers just have no idea what the hell they want to do with him now that he's Marinette's boyfriend.

But let's talk about what I think really killed these two episodes, specifically “Confrontation”: The unnecessary focus on side characters. I can understand why Ms. Bustier needed more focus in these episodes, considering it was focused on the school environment, but I can't give that kind of lenience to “Confrontation”. That episode decided rather than focusing on Marinette finally outsmarting Lila, we needed more focus on Sabrina, Juleka, and Mr. Damocles. Why did we need to give Sabrina a change of heart over Marinette's friends working together to help her expose Lila? Why did we need Juleka to be targeted by Lila and subsequently akumatized by Monarch in a gambit to slander Marinette when all Lila had to do was have it look like Marinette tampered with Chloe's form? Why did we need an extended sequence of Mr. Damocles fending off an Akuma with the help of his class when he had no real presence in this arc, and if anything, took Chloe and Lila's side more often than not (Ladybug, Derision)? I don't get why the writers chose the tail end of the season to actually develop some of its side characters at the expense of major players like Marinette, Adrien, and Lila.

Look, these episodes were just awful, okay? And somehow, things manage to get worse as we get closer and closer to the end of the season.

[centuryberry]

Imperial Harem Novel AU

Note: This wasn't really requested, but I've already summarized the Replanted AU, Abandoned Yue AU, and the Fae AU, so why not this one? This particular AU has a place in my heart - mostly because it's silly. Also because there was a plot twist in there that I never managed to address so I'm writing it out now.

Summary: When Wukong wakes up in a trashy imperial harem novel he'd been reading, he's horrified. Why? Because he's in the body of a character who shares his name - a tyrant king who causes a lot of pain and suffering to everyone including the female lead. Wukong decides that, since he's here for the time being, he was going to fix the other him's mistakes and leave the world better than he found it by the time he finds a way back home.

(Sounds easy enough as a concept, but Wukong can't act for his life and he has serious imposter syndrome. Oh well, time to spam the amnesia button and fake it 'til he makes it.)

Everyone Else's POV:

The Monkey King was a tyrant who either spilt blood or added to his large harem. He selfishly ignored the matters of the crown and contributed to the suffering of his people.

Queen RinRin is left to manage the throne's affairs on her own, frustrated by her husband's selfishness and destructive tendencies.

Consort Macaque is tormented by the endless string of lovers his husband takes. He grows resentful after so many heartbreaks and lets it out on the harem. Violently.

Concubine Shanzha heard the rumors about the king. She tries to keep her head low but she's somehow gained his attention. And she's scared of all the trouble that is going to come with it.

Unexpectedly, the Monkey King suffered a head wound and was bedridden for days. Perhaps it was an assassination attempt? No one knows.

It didn't matter because the Monkey King woke up without his memories. It caused a bit of chaos all around. Everyone expected even more trouble.

To everyone surprise, he didn't.

The king started to participate in state affiars. He was clumsy and inexpierienced, but he was still trying his best. RinRin finds herself charmed by this new version of her husband.

While he doesn't remember Macaque, the king has become far more considerate and had dissolved the harem. The consort's resentment and bitterness was all but forgotten.

While the majority of the harem disbanded, Shanzha had to stay because of her political hostage position. But...it wasn't that bad? The king was respectful and gave her a lot of agency. She could pray and shoot at the archery range when she pleased.

Everyone doesn't say it out loud, but they liked this new king better. They hoped he never got his memories back.

Wukong's POV:

He's freaking out y'all.

I mean, it's pretty obvious, but it still needed to be said. He was freaking out.

Wukong didn't finish reading the novel before he was yeeted into it. He got so frustrated that he tossed it away. He regrets it so much now.

Wukong is the sheer definition of faking it til you make it. He spammed the HELL out of his amnesia while he tried to get into the groove of his role as Emperor.

Wukong's initial goal was to survive and not have any one find out he was an imposter. Then, after seeing just how much the OG!Wukong fucked everything up, he took it upon himself to unfuck as much as he can.

Good news: Wukong is making more progress than he expected. He's taking some of the load off of RinRin's shoulders by participating in meetings; he's taking away the major stressor in Macaque's life by dissolving the harem; and he's trying to make Shanzha's time in the kingdom as bearable as possible.

Bad news: All three of them somehow took his actions as an invitation to start trying to seduce him. Don't get him wrong. They're all gorgeous and amazing - Wukong isn't blind - but he's not really their husband. He's just some loser who hijacked their real husband's body. So he puts on the "I don't know I'm dumb" vizor on and hopes to high hell that no one sees through it.

They eventually do, so Wukong elects to scream and run.

When Shanzha opened up to Wukong and told him about her life and of her niece, he cried. He was always a sucker for tragic backstories. Why didn't the novel talk about this?

Not long after, he requested demanded Shanzha's homeland to send over her niece. Shanzha was overwhelmed when he gave her the exciting news.

Since Wukong taking a ward was huge, the entire court were there to recieve Yue. It was actually the first time RinRin and Shanzha crossed paths. It was butterflies at first "hi" for the queen who was regretting not being more involved with the harem.

Shanzha and Yue's reunion was so tearjerking that Wukong had to take a minute. Then, it was revealed that Yue was actually Macaque's family too. The six ears kinda made it obvious. Plot twist after plot twist, why didn't the author of the trash novel focus on THIS?!

Wukong never saw a baby monkey before so he's practically exploding because of Yue's cuteness. He was super duper doting.

Wukong also saw a way out of the entire "making an heir" business, so he names Yue his heir and hopes that this stops his spouses from trying to jump him.

It doesn't. Wukong's "Baba" energy just made him even more irresistable. Sorry Wukong.

The three have also joined forces. Oh no.

The Plot Twist:

One day, little Yue blinks up at Wukong and asks him if he can pretty please take her to see the nearby waterfall together. When he does, Yue takes advantage of the waterfall being a natural white noise machine to talk to him.

Yue: "You're a transmigrator too, aren't you?" Wukong: 😮"Whaaaaaaa-?!"

Yup, Yue's a transmigrator. She also read the trashy novel - all of it. So she has all the deets, which Wukong begs off of her by helping her reach high places and giving her treats.

Everyone: Aww, he's so good with her Wukong: Oh wise senior, please share your wisdom Yue: Tell the cooks to make the Dan Dan Noodles extra spicy hot and I'll think about it

Yue also helps her fellow homie out by being a deterrent for romantic advances. Can't talk or do anything beyond PG around the baby.

Wukong tells Yue about his plan to run away after setting everything and leaving the kingdom to her and she bluntly tells him that it was a dumb plan.

Yue: "At least wait until I'm not a baby to abdicate."

Yue also (gently) breaks it to Wukong that he's stuck here. The him in his original reality is most likely dead.

So, after a bit of spiraling, Wukong approaches his spouses and tells them the truth.

It was a bit shocking and they (Macaque and RinRin) needed some time to come to terms with the revelation, but this doesn't deter the three of them in the slightest. They're all in love with this Wukong and want to spend the rest of their lives with him.

(By the time Yue comes of age, Wukong does accept their advances enough to give her cute little brothers lol.)

[boywifesammy]

spn fic rec fest - 6

AUGUST 16 - case fics AUGUST 19 - outsider pov

as before, i've tagged authors that have their tumblr public on their ao3. if you'd like me to remove the @, just lmk. @spnficrecfest for more info on the event.

Case fics

The Hottest Blue by submariner (@submarinerwrites) Dean/Sam, 14k, E

A ghoul hunt drags up painful memories of Jess for Sam. this is one of my fav case fics!! everything is amazing from the story to the characterization to the smut. it really delves into sams grief after jess and how it affects his romance & sex life, its explored very well in a realistic way!!

A Love That Lasts by bloodwrites (@bloodwritesfic) Dean/Sam, 4k, E

Sam & Dean are hit by a love spell on a milk run for Rowena. love spell fics are my guilty pleasure and this one had that perfect combo of feverish need and tentative fear… the smut is really intimate and it captures the vibe of late seasons samdean very well!!

A Fever Dream by brokenlittleboy Dean/Sam, 33k, E

Reverse!Djinn dream fic where Sam’s perfect world is one where he has Dean. this fic is a wonderful take on djinn!Sam because it plays well into storylines with hallucifer where he’s manipulated into questioning himself/the world around him. the whump after sam wakes up is also wonderful, i love well written disability plots! the twist of sam finding out that it isnt real is soooo painful, BUT the happy ending makes up for it!!

Outsider POV

Man at the Crossroads by BlindSwandive (@blindswandive) Dean/Sam, 4k, T

"Cordelia (paralegal) needs to know who the hell this leather jacket-wearing, cheap cigarette-smoking rough trade is. And just why his rolling into town is shaking up her normally so-calm boss, lawyer Sam Winchester." this is one of this fics thats a self-contained little novel in a oneshot. the writing is amazing and the character development of cordelia in such a short span of time is really well done. i also have SUCH a thing for prim&proper sammy losing his composure and going feral with dean ;)

Tomorrow's Headline by ohagony (@ohagony) Dean/Sam, 5k, E

Sam and Dean stroll into a town and tell everyone they’re brothers. Nobody buys it. INCEST KINK YUMMY MEAL!!!! i love the snarky little interactions between the boys here & the writing&voices of the side characters is delightful. cute & short while still being super engaging.

Scumbag Fuck (But I Swear That He's Not) by TeleportingAspen Dean/Sam, 3k, T [underage]

“Sam Winchester is caught with a young omega and no brother. Turns out it looks really bad when your brother/mate is suddenly twelve.” victor henriksen pov !!!! my favourite outsider pov character other than bobby. i LOVED the detail in this about them realizing that young!dean had all of the same scars as dean <3 sooo dark and horrifying! poor victor haha