#Then I just kept adding to it just to like. have

[byrdsfly]

Alight let's try and make this post a bit better since it's different every time I see it and always somehow worse:

Alphabet Aerobics by Blackalicious

Good Day by Nappy Roots

Opposite of Adults by Chiddy Bang

Lose Yourself by Eminem

Ms. Jackson by Outkast

Yesterday by Atmosphere

fuck killing a victorian child by making them listen to hyperpop all you gotta do is make a white tumblr user listen to rap

[dilfosaur]

well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so

let's talk!

i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow

so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)

but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out

basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol

i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension

a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.

i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.

don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer

there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball

i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done

i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep

but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself

so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project

tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point

the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed

they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess

i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me

a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me

and that! is when i finally snapped!

i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately

i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team

and the real kicker?

august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video

and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly

it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing

but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion

i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people

tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol

(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)

this shit was truly

so ass.

but i'm moving past it now

but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!

and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')

happy new year!

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x Gn! Reader

Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (You're here)

Chapter 5

"Hey Dick" Bruce called to his oldest son when he saw him in the kitchen while he was preparing a bowl of cereal

"Yeah Bruce?" Dick answered but his attention was still on his cereal

"Have you heard from (Name)?" the eldest asked

"Uh..." he kept thinking, remembering who you were until something finally clicked in his mind "Oh yeah! No, I haven't heard from them, maybe in their room?" he suggested, not giving it any importance

"Yeah, that would be the most logical answer if they hadn't moved" Bruce sighed

"What?" for the first time Dick turned to look at him surprised

"Yeah... They've been gone for a while now" Bruce explained

"But why?" Dick asked

"Well... I have to admit that I haven't been the best father to them..." he said a little embarrassed

"Oh Bruce..." Dick was about to start scolding him

"I really don't need you to scold me right now" Bruce growled

"Fine..." Dick sighed and stood up "And why are you looking for them?"

"I need to talk to them about everything" he explained "And... and apologize to them for all these years"

Dick didn't like to see any of his family sad or stressed like Bruce.

And yet he never noticed you

So he put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him a little to try and comfort him.

"I'll help you look for them. Have you checked their room yet?"

"Yeah I already checked it and there's nothing, literally speaking" Bruce sighed

"Well maybe you missed something. You're not the only one in the family who's a detective" he smiled and the older man smiled back

"Thanks, chum" he patted him on the back affectionately

"You're welcome, old man" Then both men separated to look for the missing family member

Dick pulled out his phone and sent a message to the chat group he had with his brothers.

In which you were not included of course

Asking for a quick little meeting, that way, if everyone helped look for you all this would end quickly and they could make it up to you. Even though Dick didn't say it, knowing that you had left and hadn't told anyone and adding the fact that he now felt guilty because he paid you a lot (nothing) of attention.

"Let me understand Dickhead so..." Jason spoke "You called us, saying that this was urgent just to tell us to help you and Bruce look for (Name)?"

To tell the truth, everyone thought it was silly that Dick called them, you were a teenager, most likely you were doing something outside the mansion, you would return home soon.

"I'm sorry to tell you this Dick but, I think you're exaggerating" said Tim

"For the first time I can agree with Drake" said Damian "I have more important things to do than looking for them"

"I know, I know, but this is urgent not only for Bruce but for me too" said Dick "And why are you looking for them?" asked Stephanie

"Look..." Dick sighed "They... they... they left the mansion and Bruce Is nervous"

"They left? Why?" asked Tim

"Did you call them?" asked Cassandra

"Bruce tried but it seems they changed their number" Dick sighed

"You didn't answer Tim's question" said Jason "Why did they leave?"

"Perhaps because they never felt part of this family, Master Jason" said a voice behind them, it was Alfred who had been listening to the little meeting

"Huh? Why do you say that Pennyworth?" asked Damian

"Oh it is probably because you just decided to ignore them since they came to the mansion" said Alfred as if it was obvious

"Hey! That's not true, I used to spend time with them" Jason defended himself

"And then what happened, Master Jason?" asked Alfred and looked at him a little irritated

"Uhh... I died and then came back from the dead...?" laughed Jason nervously

"Nonsense" said Alfred and then left Jason sighed and stood up.

"How do we help, Dick?"

Jason felt like a complete jerk. How could he have pushed you aside? You were still a child for God's sake! And yet he didn't care and pushed you aside when he came back from the dead, being more focused on his revenge against Bruce and Tim. He also felt a little proud, proud that he was always the closest to you, even if it has been a while SInce then. He remembers how you looked at him in admiration in his days as Robin, how your eyes lit up when he did a stunt and how you followed him around the mansion like you were a duckling. Alfred had even taken a picture of you following him around. The simple memory made him smile. He should ask Alfred if he still has the photo. He was in your room, inspecting it like it was a crime scene but he had to admit, you were Bruce's child. This room was completely clean and it looked like no one had lived in it for years if it weren't for the fact that the walls were painted (f/c). It was like If you didn't want to be found. That made Jason let out a small chuckle, you would have been a great vigilante, if only they had given you the chance. He shook his head, trying to get those negative thoughts out of his mind and focus on his search instead. He checked every corner of your room and nothing. It seemed like you just vanished.

"Shit!" He slammed his fist on the floor as he crouched down, checking under your bed. "Where the fuck are you?”

"Keep checking their room, Master Jason?" said a voice behind him, it was Alfred who was looking at him with the same neutral face.

"Yeah," Jason sighed and stood up.

After a few seconds of silence, Jason turned to look at Alfred and asked:

"Alfred... Do you happen to have the photo you took of (Name) and me when we were kids? The one where they followed me like a duckling?”

"Yes, I have the photo, Master Jason, but I can show you more. Please follow me," said the butler as he turned around and left the room.

Jason looked at him in surprise, but without saying anything he followed him. They reached the attic of the great mansion. There were millions of boxes in that place in which they had different things that belonged to the inhabitants of Wayne Manor. Alfred began to move some boxes until he took out a specific one that had your name on it.

"What is this?" Jason asked.

"This is a box, Master Jason" Alfred said as he handed him the box.

"And it contains some things that used to belong to (Name)”

Jason looked at the box in amazement, it didn't weigh much but it didn't weigh little either but it seemed well preserved despite the time.

"Thank you Alfred" he said and then came down from the attic with the box in his arms.

Jason walked into the living room so he could see the contents of the box without any problem. He didn't know where to start but decided to grab a long but thin book. When he saw the cover his eyes widened in surprise, because that book was a photo album.

On the first pages of the album there were ultrasound images that started from the third month. There was even a 3D ultrasound in which you could see the baby's face. Jason smiled at the image and ran his fingers over the photo. He remembered your smile, it was tender and warm and always relaxed him after a hard mission or a fight with Bruce.

On the next page there was information about your birth, your weight and height and other information. There was also a compartment in which there was a small sock that would only fit a newborn baby. The young man smiled more when he saw that small garment that used to be yours, he put it back in the small compartment of the book and continued exploring. From that page, there were photos, the first ones were of your mother and another man, your mother was sitting on the hospital bed with the man next to her while he held you. Both adults looked completely happy while you slept. In another picture you were in the arms of your mother who looked tired but no less happy, the background of the picture seemed to be a baby's room. And in a third one you were in the arms of that man again, he was lifting you up in the air while you laughed, the man laughing in the same way. Jason could imagine the sound of your laughter at that age and it just made his heart beat a little faster.

He kept looking at more pictures of you, your first steps, playing with some pet you had back then, eating (although it was actually a mess but he found it cute) and then there was the picture of your first birthday, you were still so small, but you could see the excitement on your face when you saw the candle on your birthday cake, next to you your mother and that man again. He should have Tim investigate who that man was.

Jason kept looking at pictures of your first years of life, your first Christmas, your first Halloween, your first day at daycare, your first friends. Throughout the album you could see how you were growing up full of happiness, well that was until you got to the photo of your fourth birthday. From that photo on, your mother and that man didn't appear anymore, but instead there were photos of your arrival at Wayne Manor.

At first there were only photos of the great mansion and its hallways, the beautiful handwriting that was written in the previous titles was replaced by that of a small child. Throughout the following pages there were only photos of the property and the animals and there was only one photo where you appeared but now with Alfred, both smiling. You got to the photo of your fifth birthday, thinking that it was Bruce or Dick in that photo but it seems that wasn't the case. You were five, six, seven, eight years old and in your birthday photos there were only you and Alfred, that didn't seem to change despite time. On the next page, Jason was surprised to find pictures of him and you, it was when he had just become Robin and spent a lot of time with you, from photos where Jason was training, cooking with Alfred, reading, and even him teaching you how to fight. Even though those photos were extremely beautiful in his eyes, his favorite had to be the photo in which he appeared with Alfred and (Name) at his 9th birthday party. He smiled at the photograph and took it in his hands, being honest, he didn't remember that until he saw the photo again and your smile made Jason's heart flutter again. With more energy he began to look at the album and each time he appeared less in the photos until he reached your 10th birthday, but he was no longer there, again it was just Alfred and you.

"What...? No no no no no..." Jason muttered agitatedly as he looked through the album

He wasn't in any pictures anymore, nor was his family, it was just you and Alfred again and on more occasions it seemed like more people he didn't know, probably your friends.

"Fuck!" he yelled in frustration and put his face in his hands

Did he really just push you aside so foolishly? No... He had to fix it.

After all HE was your favorite brother

And HE was going to make it up to you

He was going to make it up to you for all those years he left you alone

And he was going to find you, after all, he was trained by the world's greatest detective.

How hard can It be finding you?

Hello! First of all... HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you all have a wonderful 2025! And of course I wanted to thanks to all of those people that have supported this story even If it has been just a couple of months.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Personally I think it was kinda short but to be honest I didn't had a bunch time to write but oh well.

If you have questions about the story, a comment (respectfully) or even ideas I would be more than happy to know or answer them in any case.

I send all of you a big hug!

-Izadi <3

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[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 25

(Art of Harpy Neige done by the very talented @ironicallyenraptured )

Warnings; yandere, multiple yanderes, different levels of yandere, mostly story driven chapter, hurt/comfort, snuggles, semi-aftermath, mention of attempted assault, wisdom from past Humans, explaining things, shock is one hell of a drug, cuddle puddle, tears, Hellcat, Ghost, Harpies, Dragon, mention of various species,

~~~~~~~~

Things were quiet far away from the crowd of the arena. The world felt a little smaller and a little more bearable as you lay in the nest, your nest, in Ramshackle. There was something familiar about the old building that soothed your heart, feeling much more relaxed in the familiar bastion.

Idia confirmed no one had managed to get into Ramshackle while you were away. He also mentioned something about adding a lock down mode to the building.

Now you were given something you have not managed to have in a while; solitude.

Of course, that didn't include little Grim who slept next to you in the large nest, not too far from you but curled up in arm's reach. He had suffered the brunt of Erikír's magic and was feeling after effects from the paralytic force that overwhelmed him. Crowley assured you Grim would recover, he was just recovering at a slower rate due to his age and size compared to the others.

Though you knew something terrible had happened and you were still reeling from it, you felt oddly numb. It felt like the world was rushing around you but a strange calm had overtaken everything and you were simply sitting in they eye of the hurricane that raged around you. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, the lack of physical injury, or both that kept you in such a state.

You figured you should check in on Che'nya and Neige given what happened. Most of the Housewardens waited down in the common area of the dorm, letting you decompress from the events that took place. Everyone that had fought or joined the fight before it ended was resting in Ramshackle but you were allowed a blissful moment of quiet to yourself.

Luckily you weren't physically harmed by any of the events, but it still made your skin crawl to think of the Merman prince. It meant more to you than you could describe to have those blessed moments to yourself to just think. Lilia had managed to convince Malleus to let you breathe and have some room but you knew the moment you left the room the Dragon would be by your side.

You stared at the ceiling on your back wondering about where you should go next in this madness filled world. Showing affection seemed a decent enough way to get these monster men to calm themselves. Perhaps you would even have to hold a quick meeting to talk with the various professors and Housewardens about what exactly took place. As far as you were aware, they were all in your dorm anyway and were simply waiting for you to show yourself.

A faint sound of whispers drew your attention and you glanced over to the mirror. You could just barely see the faint glow of the reflective glass and next to it was the thin Human ghost.

Moving as carefully as you could, you got up from the nest, letting Grim sleep off the effects of the signature spell Erikír had used on all of you. The Ghost seemed wary of the door to the room, so you silently ushered them into the adjacent bathroom connected to your room. Hopefully the beasts would all be none the wiser.

"Hello again, my friend. I am glad to see you live another day unbound."

The Ghost greeted quietly, his reedy voice still very faint to keep from being heard by listening ears. He smiled gently at you and you were honestly thrilled to see him again. Though you knew not what the many Ghosts were named, you were happy to know their one visit was not the last.

"Likewise. Though, I wish it was on better terms..."

"We saw what happened. Are you alright?"

"I guess..."

"No, I want to hear a 'yes' or a 'no' for certain. That was an awful thing that prince planned to do to you. I saw the prince talking with those Fae, promising them something that was not his to promise. We tried to warn you before the Tournament, but you weren't here when we arrived."

"I've been in another dorm because of the increased visitors on the island due to today's events. ... What exactly did Erikír promise them?"

"Do you truly wish to know?"

You felt a kind of bile in your throat as you considered your options, feeling more than you had in the last hour. Truly, you didn't want to think about that monster or what he meant by 'our eggs' when he spoke earlier. At the time, you had just wanted to escape and didn't focus too much on what the insane fish was ranting about.

"No, but I should know about it anyway."

"He promised to have you bear several egg clutches for him. The warn water Merfolk tend to have larger clutches, so he promised each one an egg of their own to keep and raise in exchange for their help today."

A shudder ran down your spine when you heard this, knowing the awful monster wouldn't take your feelings into account. If he was so willing to kidnap you, you had little doubt he would be willing to force you into having his young. He was awful, and you vaguely hoped you had the chance to weigh in on what punishment he deserved.

"I'm not okay. To think they would be so willing to see that happen to me... Even for their own benefit. How could they be okay with any child being brought into this world only to be traded away for the imprisonment of their mother? Why would any of them agree to that?"

"Because of our aura."

"What? What does that have to do with any of this?"

"We were interrupted before we could tell you, this aura of ours protects us... To an extent. But it is only as helpful as the species you surround yourself with. It is like a soothing lullaby to the minds and instincts of the other species. Their instincts are like shards of glass spinning around in their heads, always present and always at the forefront of their decisions. Our aura calms that whirlwind of glass and smooths the edges."

"How?"

"Many ways. Magic reacts in interesting ways with the aura of a Human. For some, it makes them more agreeable and calm. For others, it strengthened and enhanced their magic. There were some cases where a Human's aura attracted powerful magic users. Humans were once called Beast-Tamers or Peace-Keepers. Our aura alone was enough to soothe instincts, cool tempers, even end generational conflict."

"So, why were Humans hunted then?"

"That aura is a double edged sword. Though it impacts magic and can soothe instincts, the lack of that aura can have the opposite effect. Those used to the calming presence of a Human's aura can become reliant on it. To many, it didn't matter how they got this aura, from being around Humans to consuming their flesh, it all had the same effect. What was meant as an evolutionary trait of survival, became an addiction for the others that drove our species to extinction. I don't know how you have that same aura or how some of us must have managed to escape to wherever your world is, but you are here now, and your aura draws the others in."

The words of the Ghost weighed heavily on your shoulders, to the point it felt like it was too much. If he was right, then that meant you were both what kept your life safe and what endangered it. These beasts were driven to be in your presence and- thankfully- you had mainly encountered those who could either mostly control themselves or had strong enough allies to keep the other kind at bay.

"How do I stop it?"

"You can't. None of us could figure it out. Only in death could we see what we never could in life."

"So, what? I'm making them addicted to me?"

"Yes. That is why it is crucial we find a way out for you, sooner rather than later. The Dragon already yearns deeply, but that is the way of a Dragon's instincts, they posses and they yearn for those possessions. He is a strong ally, but understand he will only become more determined to entangle himself in your life as time progresses. They all will."

"And Grim?"

"Your feline companion is not the same kind as the species of beasts around you. Our aura is not as strong on those like him. It can impact him, but nowhere near the same level as the others."

"So, Papa Hades..."

The skinny Ghost looked truly sad when you mentioned the old Shinigami, a kind of wistful look in his eyes. He was silent for a moment before he rest a hand over his chest where his heart would have been. It took a moment for the Ghost to speak again, and you refused to rush him as it clearly hurt him to think of the kindly Shinigami.

"He... He is impacted by our aura as well. But even still, he is one to trust more than the others. He was always very kind to us all, perhaps too kind. I was one of his Humans, he let me leave when I wanted but alas... I was too foolish to recognize leaving was only one part of the journey and fell to those that lay in wait just beyond the isle. I couldn't bring myself to face him again after I failed so long ago... If you asked him to help you escape, I would like to think he would help you, but even I don't know for certain. He loved us Humans. Cherished us, even. But I fear the isolation has hardened his heart and the pain he felt at our loss may keep him from letting you become lost as well."

You nodded and glanced back to the door, knowing if you took too long in isolation, the others would surely seek you out. They were smothering and suffocating, but they were your only chance to survive long enough to escape this place. It had been such a short amount of time, but it was no less important for you to understand how desperately these beasts yearned for your presence.

~•§•~

"-should have never been left up to chance! I know you trust your students above my own, but even you should know to trust me when I sense foul play on the horizon."

Crowley was fully fluffed up, his feathers standing on end and his voice sharp as he cawed angrily at the fellow Headmage. Ambrose refused to meet the heated stare of the angered Crow, keeping his gaze downcast as the Crow continued to screech. It was true, Ambrose should trust Crowley's instincts on such things, he had been Headmage of Night Raven College for centuries and knew when to be wary.

"To think, you let him assault my chick, assault your students, and Overblot all at once. All of this, for what? To try and have faith in the goodness of your students? Ambrose, it is not often I am the one to chastise anything you do, but even you must admit it was stupid to think Mr. Helmsman would not try his luck given his prior actions. He showed who he was and you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt!"

Crowley hissed and squawked angrily as he stomped around and paced in front of the Owl. This was the inverse of the typical interaction between the two as it was often Ambrose reprimanding Crowley. Though it was vindicating for the Crow, it was not worth the potential emotional and physical harm that almost befell his chick.

"What prior actions?"

The Dragon growled lowly, his voice impacted by the fire he had breathed out earlier and scratchy from the smoke. Naturally, no one wanted to actually tell Malleus what happened during the Photoshoot, especially considering the fact he was already furious. He had been pacing back and forth between the common area and the stairs that led up to his Human's room, ears perked keenly for any sign his Human or their beloved kit stirred. Vil was the one to break the news.

"Erikír got handsy with (Y/n) during the Photoshoot, he even placed his hands on her stomach."

"So that is why she asked Lilia about it last night. She assures me stomachs are not inherently linked to mating for Humans, but it would explain her discomfort on the subject. Still, this 'prince' assumed such falsehoods were truth and thought to try such brazen disrespect towards (Y/n). He should have been banished from her presence the moment he dared take such action."

The Dragon was agitated and it was obvious in the way he frowned and the subtle twitching of his tail. His wings were tensed on his back as if prepared to fly at any moment should he be called. So much was on his mind that he barely even remembered the unfinished Spelldrive match that declared no clear winner. He really didn't care much for the game or the outcome, only dragging it out for the sake of his dear Human's entertainment.

"I am of a mind with Mr. Draconia, that prince should have never been allowed near her after his clear lack of discretion. Next time I get a feeling about any of the students- yours or mine- you would do well to heed my words, Ambrose!"

During the angry huffing and cawing of the Crow, a soft figure slowly descended the stairs with a groggy Hellcat kit in hand. The kit was yawning and the presence of the Human did not go unnoticed by those in the dorm. Naturally, Malleus was first to head towards the oddly calm looking Human.

It had been one hell of a day thus far for her.

"(Y/n)," Malleus was quick to greet the Human that looked at him with almost distant and shell-shocked eyes, seemingly wanting to hold or otherwise pick her up but barely restraining himself from acting, "are you... Well? Do you need-?"

He cut off as the soft Human he adored walked into his waiting arms, letting the Dragon wrap his tail and wings around her. The hold of the Dragon was secure yet gentle as it seemed even the beast needed that moment simply to calm himself. Despite the beseeching words of his mentor and caretaker, Malleus found himself far more soothed with his Human in hand than he did without her.

Grim also seemed rather keen to lean into the affectionate grasp of the Dragon, his tired eyes struggling to stay open. Erikír's signature spell had mostly worn off of the students it impacted but Grim was clearly struggling to overcome the effects. Neige and Che'nya were both present among the many other students as it seemed more than Housewardens decided to camp out at the Ramshackle dorm. From what you could see, most Vice-Housewardens were present as well and you figured now was as good a time as any to speak with them as a group.

"I need to talk to everyone before what happened truly hits me."

Malleus let you pull away from his hold but kept close behind you like a perpetual shadow that loomed nearby. It was clear the others were keen to hear what you had to say, Che'nya and Neige moving so you could sit between them. Though your Dragon guard seemed less than pleased at the location between those that failed you, he was not going to force you to sit among the Hoard despite his wishes. Your needs were greater and he understood it in that moment.

Grim slowly lifted his head to sniff towards the Harpy that gently cooed to him, almost seeming worried as the kit struggled to stand. You were similarly concerned but the insistence that Grim would recover in time somewhat soothed your worry. At least the kit seemed alright despite his clumsy attempt to nuzzle the hand of the Harpy that sat next to you.

"We will continue this later, Ambrose. (Y/n), my dear sweet innocent chick, we are ready to hear what you have to say."

"Thank you, Headmage."

Crowley seemed somewhat bothered by the formal title, but he allowed you to continue without complaint as it was clear to him something was wrong. From what you gathered, all of the beast men would at least be unwilling to abandon or betray you if you kept an eye on them and divided your attention among them. Your aura should see to the rest when reality decided to hit you full force.

"I assume you all are already aware of the basics as to what happened today, so I won't rehash what we know, but there is something I need to share. Those Fae didn't see an opportunity and just choose to show up, it was planned and orchestrated. Erikír- after he used his signature spell and pulled me from the room- let slip how he gained the favor of those Fae, and what his plan was going forward."

A shiver ran through you as you thought about what had happened and the disgusting feeling it had given you. The faint feel of feathers over your shoulders told you Neige had rest one of his wings over your back, likely as a comforting gesture. You were thankful for the gentle touch of the Harpy that had earned a certain level of trust from you. He did not see the betrayal coming, but you trusted in Grim's judgement more than you could say.

"He said the Fae joined him for the promise of an egg. A half-Human egg. I doubt all of them joined for only one shared among them, so he must have promised them each one of their own. I'm sure I don't need to say where he planned to acquire these eggs. I honestly don't think he really cared if I wanted such things or not, he had made a deal and intended to make good on his word no matter what. This was before he Overblotted. He wasn't Feral when he planned to take me, he turned Feral when I got away from him. I don't feel safe with him nearby, even down the coast at Royal Sword Academy, not after what he has done."

Thunder suddenly boomed and shook the entire building. The air itself seeming filled with electricity as the Dragon among them hissed deeply, his body shaking with rage. Malleus was unaware of these finer details, but learning Fae from his own Kingdom had been so willing to trade what was not theirs to claim had white hot fury filling his veins. This was all in addition to the brazen and frankly disrespectful acts committed by the prince.

Most of the time, Lilia would be the first to make an attempt to calm down the Dragon. He was not keen to stop Malleus from ripping these poachers to pieces for even thinking they could get any young from you, especially when you so clearly belonged in the Hoard. Most of those present were of the same mind as Malleus; riddled with rage.

Ramshackle itself groaned and creaked from the force of the storm outside and you worried for those who may still be in or near the arena. The Tournament was either recently ended or just paused and that meant many could be out in the storm. You were quick to stand, immediately approaching Malleus and resting a hand on his head between his horns. He had almost seemed confused by your actions before you began to gently pet the upset Dragon, almost all tension leaving his body. In a way, he seemed to be fighting the immense calm that your presence brought him.

"He must pay for daring to take what is not his."

"I know, Tsuno, but there are still innocent people on school grounds, you can't drown them in a storm for the crime of being nearby. Save your anger for those that deserve it."

"He deserves death. The Rat is first and his crime was less. I see no reason he can't be next."

"Yeah, but something tells me because he's a prince they will try very hard for a lesser punishment."

"I want him dead."

"I know. You can't kill him. Not yet. We can do nothing about him right now, so I need you to calm down and hold onto that rage. I have no doubt he will lie and try to discredit or back-track on what he said to me. What I need from you is one of the Fae he coerced or several if you can, and they need to be alive. Their attestation is more damning. Evidence is what we need, not a storm."

Malleus made a sound then, like a mix between a whine and a growl. The Dragon was frustrated and didn't want to listen to reason, but he knew what the logical next step was. You were right.

"All Fae in the arena were caught and are going to be questioned. They have all agreed to answer any question and answer honestly, so long as they get to be questioned by you."

Ambrose spoke, his voice resigned and laced with guilt. He refused to meet your gaze and simply continued to look down at his hands, which were balled into fists. You figured he was wrestling with the idea of one of his own students going so wrong so quickly.

"I don't want to talk to any of them. I don't want to talk to anyone who would agree to leave me with a man that intends to use me for his own gratification. I don't care what they've lost or how they are hurt. Pain doesn't excuse their willingness to let horrible things be done to me just so they can sleep easier at night with a bought and sold child born as a result of their inability to control themselves or have a modicum of morals regarding others wellbeing."

"They won't speak to anyone but you."

"Fine. I will break their hearts and their fragile sanity. I want Tsuno, Lilia, and Headmage Crowley present for the questions. They can stare down their own prince and try to beg for the mercy they would have never given me."

There was lasting silence and you could see the fear in the eyes of the beasts around you. It was as if they were trying to decide if you were being serious or not. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes and felt the slow pull of emotions, drawing back to soon drown you in a tidal wave.

There was only moments of clarity left and you could feel the headache forming from the tears that had yet to be shed.

"I can't do it right now. Any of it, really. Right now, I need someone- anyone of you, I don't care- to hold me. I need to be held for several hours and someone needs to make me drink and eat because I won't want to. Honestly, I-"

Your voice fathered and your tears began to fall. Despite your desire to speak and give these clueless monsters the information you needed them to know, there was no more time.

"I-"

You figured Malleus would be first. He was closest after all, but you really didn't care who it was this time. Those in the dorm were those who have proven themselves trust worthy. You just needed to collapse and cry.

Emotions were strange like that, so terribly absent in the height of stressful situations yet so vicious in their return they knocked your knees out from under you. You vaguely registered the feeling of scales, feathers, fur, and flesh as your world seemed to implode. Every breath was difficult and your body shook with more than just the force of your tears.

Horrible things seemed to happen around you and now you knew you were the unfortunate cause and cure. At least you could face it later, but for the time being you had built quite the defensive group of guards. That same group who now let you sob and cry with no judgement, just gentle affection.

Everything could be dealt with at a time you could calm down and assess it properly, so you simply let the many beasts try to comfort you however they could. Warmth and softness all around was a tempting lullaby to your frazzled brain. One you embraced wholeheartedly as your world faded from the madness and into tranquility.

~•§•~

"Ambrose?"

The Crow Harpy watched the mixed group of students from both schools and various species all gather together. Some were species that hated each other by instinct alone. Some were naturally solitary. All of them valued comforting the Human more than their own instinctual dislikes and desires.

"Yes, Crowley?"

"He sought to trade away her eggs, Ambrose."

"I know."

"... This cannot happen again."

[hazelfoureyes]

I'm not taking requests from anon but …. I will….always accept inspiration in my inbox. Just don’t expect a direct response.

I’m alive. Boooooy has shit been difficult and every day I kinda panic but I think survival mode is finally shutting off. I could list all the shit but why? It's not like we arent all wading through varying piles of shit on a weekly basis lately.

Curiosity

Alastor doesn’t believe sex can feel all that great for the ones being fucked. You offer to educate him on the matter with a little hands on learning. Everyone wins.

「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x PussyHaving!Reader (has pussy and is called girl but I mean…I don’t know their business), casual virginity loss, non-sexually repulsed alastor, insulting but highly accurate bowling ball analogy, cervix smooches, creampie because dessert is a necessity, friends with questionable benefits, missionary position, science???, almost fingering, thumb (Singular), empty death threats, saliva as lube」

Minors I will yeet you back into the year of the dragon if you ignore the MDNI 🐉

Alastor’s hooves kicked playfully, slowly, in the air behind him as he rested on his belly. Two clawed fingers kept your lower lips pulled apart as he stared inquisitively at your self consciously twitching entrance.

“People’s things fit in here? I could see fingers, sure. A thumb, maybe…”, he mused, watching you clench around nothing. He learned from Angel more than he liked to admit and things seemed to fit the best for human and hellish anatomy alike. 

A large digit prodded, his head lifting and eyes meeting yours from between your spread thighs. His look was waiting for your approval or dissent. You nodded, sighing out another educational tidbit, “It feels best if things are slick.”

Alastor paused before wrapping his tongue around his thumb and coating it with viscous black saliva. Thumbpad facing down, his curved claw slipped into you easily. The natural roundness of the edges kept you from any cuts, but you had a feeling it’d be easy enough to do harm if he wasnt mindful of how he moved it. 

You could feel his other fingers pressing flat against the bottom of your ass. Instinctively you tightened around the digit.

“It's snug.” He sighed, vindicated. It was far too small a hole to fit anything more without tearing. Therefore: painful. 

“Well, it stretches quite a bit. It can adapt to alot. You - ergh - people can use soda cans and twelve inch dildos even for pleasure.” You rested on your bed, naked from the waist down. Your conversations together were always very open and without shame, neither of you worried to offend the other with questions about sex and gender. So when Alastor mused he couldn’t understand what the pussy-possessors among society got out of sex (he could understand the pleasure of a good squeeze on a cock, even if he hadn’t ever experienced anything beyond a hot mouth and a tight fist) the conversation just naturally progressed to your own personal sex education class. He’d only ever seen such anatomy in medical texts.

He cackled, “You are naive if you think that is true.” 

“Alastor, who's the expert here? I - can you remove your thumb? I feel like a bowling ball.”

Too quickly he took back his finger, your shoulders lifting slightly from the bed from the sudden loss. He paused a moment before adding, “You and a bowling ball have the same number of finger-able holes.”

Your glare went unnoticed, Alastor shifting onto his elbows again.

“Do you think people would willingly have sex if it was always uncomfortable?” You were lifted up on your elbows now too. Locked eye to eye with a very smug deer demon. 

He hummed, humans were animals and all animals followed instinct. “Maaaaybeee.” He teased, eyes breaking contact to look again at the now closed lips. “Regardless,” a wicked grin, “I can’t imagine it fitting without damage and pain.”

A stalemate. 

“You have seen people have sex, right?” You asked.

An uncomfortable pause.

“Why on earth would I watch people have sex?”

Surprise, then confusion, but finally you settled on intrigue.

“Okay, do it. I’ll show you it feels good for me and you can wipe that smile off your face.”

He tutted, “Never.” Alastor saw your flash of insult, “to the smile. Delivering pain is a hobby of mine, no matter the vehicle!”

When he sat up on his knees you shot up and you blurted out, “Wait. Do you have like, hell syphilis or something? Are you clean?”

His hair bristled, “Do YOU have syphilis?!”

“No.” You said it plainly.

Head shaking imperceptibly, a subtle ‘no’ mixed with a silent ‘then why would I?!’ telegraphed via his glaring red eyes, “Me neither.”

A bad start. Speaking of…

“Do you know how to start?”

“Is it much different than my thumb?”

I hope so. 

“Not really.”

He sighed away the remnants of agitation — was he clean?? Really? — and unbuttoned his pants. When his hands paused on the elastic of his underwear your head tilted curiously.

A step you’d both forgotten, cocks inherently had no bones like helpful fingers. Why was the prospect of handling himself mortifying but entering you wasn’t? Very rarely did he find you someone to have any concerns about and never had he felt an ounce of judgment when he admitted his blind spots and areas of naïveté. 

But this was… a step beyond. Almost humiliating in a sense, the source of the feeling was buried deep and obscured by time and disinterest.

“I’ll help.” Sitting up further, your hands went forward before you yanked them back into your bubble, “If that’s alright.”

Perfect, if he wasn’t able to get it up it’d be your fault and not his, he thought.

Nodding, he let his hands come to rest at his sides as he sat back on his legs.

The newness was evident in how he didn’t consider the mechanics of the position. You struggled a little to get this black underwear down his hips enough to release his very unaware cock.

Lifting his hips again and allowing you to pull the briefs down as far as needed (which seemed too far, honestly), you finally had eyes on something you’d been passably curious about.

It wasn’t that he was unattractive but there was a guilt to lusting over Alastor. He’d made it painfully obvious he didn’t find anyone at the hotel sexually interesting. It just isn’t his bag, as Husk had explained. Perhaps liquor had your eyes lingering a little too long on the resident villain.

Nervous and sweaty palms seemed beneficial as you held his soft member. They always felt so silly like this. How useless. Floppy. Your amused smile wasn’t comforting him an ounce.

It twitched, Alastor’s hands fighting to not come to his face and let him disappear away.

“Cute.” You whispered as you wrapped a hand around the Newtonian fluid-esque cock. You didn’t see his horrified face, focused instead on the feel of his foreskin sliding beneath your fingers. Alastor’s attention, too, shifted. He needed to breathe normally and that required all hands on deck (no puns intended). He’d never let anyone in death touch —-

A soft glow of blue flickered somewhere deep in his mind, a sloppy memory of a drunken slip up

It’d been what felt like a lifetime since he’d let anyone put their hands on his body. 

And due to that time his body reacted quickly and soon you had a handful. You both took a relieved breath then, the hurdle mounted. A little shock of pleasure to your core as you stroked his now firm cock made you shiver. It was hot in your hands, how much of that heat would you feel in your guts soon? Would he put it in and just—- pop it out like he had his thumb?

You’d shoo him away shortly after and finish things yourself in that case.

Alastor’s hands lost the battle and came to cover his lower face. That hidden grin showed teeth and he clenched his jaw to keep from letting a mewl slip. His cock was leaking so much it was embarrassing him. 

“Now you’re just playing.” He hissed.

He wasn’t wrong.

Wordlessly you came to lie on your side, a roll to your stomach interrupted as you considered things. With a glance back at the virgin you decided basic was best and returned to your back. Nothing too exciting. 

“Whenever you’re ready, then.” The smugness oozed through your tone. You knew he didn’t know enough to figure out what ready was. 

Alastor parted your legs further with his own widening thighs as he lowered his center to line up with you. He recalled you telling him the hole was very close to the bottom and it hadn’t dawned on him how low that was until the muscles of his thighs burned with the split. How was he going to move like this, he wondered.

Another recollection — wetter is better.

And though he could see a glistening wetness readying to drop down between your cheeks, he wasn’t experienced enough to know just how much your body could self lubricate. So for good measure and out of a sweet ignorance he spit into his palm and rubbed it down his cock from head to root.

The sound made you clench again. Why was that so hot? You’d never kissed, nor held hands. But now his sweat and cum would be fucked into you. 

Another clench as that lightning lit up your core, back bowing slightly with the sensation.

Could overlords sense blood pressure or hear heartbeats? You werent sure, but suddenly you worried about it. You had to close your eyes and focus only on your breathing, unaware it was your turn to hide your true reactions. If you started panting now he’d laugh so hard he’d go soft.

But the truth was, you could begin beatboxing and he wouldnt notice it. He was scooting closer, lowering and then raising his hips again to find a position that he could hold.

Thank Lucifer he never wasted time with this before. 

Finally he lined up and let his held breath go. His cockhead was slick and slipped up between your lips and headbutted your clit when he tried to press in. 

Your shocked scream was stifled into a gritted cry, bringing the back of your hand up to silence yourself. It hurt a little at first but that faded quickly. You whispered a single, “fuck.”

If he wasn’t already cock out Alastor would have just left. But, that would mean saying he was wrong and failed. Which wasn’t going to happen so he slid his cock back down the way he went and pressed into you with false confidence he knew it would go in. 

He gasped when he breached your lips. You were so hot. And that snugness was back, head and just an inch of shaft sheathed but his brain felt like most of his body was being tightly embraced. 

You felt him twitching, and tried to fight back the instinct to tighten around him to feel that little bit of movement even better. It didn’t work.

He hissed a “don’t” when you clenched around him, but you barely heard it over your own little moan. Alastor leaned forward and let his hands rest on either side of your ribs. Head hidden behind long and hanging bangs you couldnt see how his face twisted in concentration. He could cum like this, just one little movement and he was sure he’d finish. Not a normal problem for him, but it's easy to have a 100% win rate for a game you played just a few times before.

Alastor’s body was stick straight above you. 

His body wasn’t touching you except for the cock in you. It was odd, like he was hovering. Would he fuck you without touching you? That seemed so like him.

“Well, color me surprised.” He finally spoke, words breathy. He didn’t smell an ounce of blood so he knew you hadn’t torn. Your body was relaxed beneath him, your upper chest flush. When he looked up you were peering down over your cheeks with parted lips. He’d seen such expressions before in paintings deemed too salacious for museums in his time. 

“It feels even better when you’re moving.” You offered. He didn’t have to continue now that you’d proven your point but you really wanted him to. You’d not been fucked in ages and this was a situation that wouldn’t happen again. “But if this is enough proof…” you trailed off. 

He could imagine it. The feeling of that tender and somehow gripping flesh hugging him tightly as he moved forward more…. And pulled out. His glands would catch, wouldn’t it hurt you then? Wouldn’t he be scraping your delicate insides?

Alastor began pressing further in. Your hands gripped the sheets slightly, your walls were pushed open by his now steel hard member and you could feel a pool of heat low in your womb. You needed him to hit it, to thrust forward and rut against your cervix. But you had to take it slow, this was about him answering his questions first and foremost. 

“It won’t go any further…” he leaned back and inspected the situation. Two inches or so remained out in the cold. 

You shifted your hips and could feel the resistance. “If you start,” you needed a second to gather yourself before saying the rest, “thrusting properly now you’ll be able to get the rest in soon.”

His brow cocked. 

He’d have to trust you on that one and simply keep going. There were still more ways to move within you, to see if the piercing friction really could make you feel good. A moan broke through his defenses when he pulled out until the glands of his cock felt caught on your entrance. 

Alastor’s body crumpled, the pleasure made his muscles go weak. It was as if he couldn’t control them at all. Dangerous. 

His hips bucked from the sensitivity, thrusting forward. Alastor’s head fell back with a sharp gasp. Before he could worry over how he looked his hips were starting a shaky and mistimed pace. Head falling forward again so he could look down at where you were joined, he groaned. His cock was disappearing, girth holding your cunt open as it clamped down against him.  

Alastor felt dizzy from the physical rapture and a helpful redirection of blood. His body was light; bright and weightless.

What a treacherous sensation. He could almost understand rakes* now. 

Your first real moan reminded him why he was doing what he was. Face shooting up from the shadow of his hair he watched yours. Your brow was furrowed slightly, but apart from how hard you were biting your bottom lip he didnt see anything pained in your expression. Your sounds definitely did not say you were being harmed in any way. 

As his cock pulled against your entrance again and rammed back in, he gained new ground just like you’d assured. Another hungry thrust and he was flush with your body. You choked out a noise and gripped the sheets hard. 

“Painful?,” he opted for a single word to avoid his voice cracking with uncontrolled radio static. Alastor slowed his pace out of caution, he enjoyed pain but not like this. He’d only been trying to shock you earlier with his comments when he said otherwise. 

Your hips rolled, pressing him deeper and rolling your eyes back. It earned you a flipping of radio stations softly in the air around you. A babbled, “No, no,” before you could find the sense to look at him, “You’re doing so well. It feels so good. Don’t stop.” Another roll of your body to feel his leaking slit digging into your cervix. That white hot pleasure was fading now to something less mind numbing but still worth chasing. He had you split open down the center and you needed to feel him moving deep within.  

‘Well, Fuck,’ Alastor thought. The mechanics didn’t make much sense but he was seeing undeniable proof. He shifted his hips until his lower stomach was pressing down onto you and let his own normally unwanted instincts take over. You asked him to not stop, after all. 

Fluidly now he could fuck you, lower back activated and driving himself home deeper. Soon he was grunting softly each time he bottomed out. Animalistic auto-pilot kept his pace even and punishing. 

A slurred ‘feels s’good’ tumbled from your still parted lips. 

He watched your neck muscles strain and face redden, you were holding your breath and he couldnt understand why. 

Eyes slipping closed he focused on your warmth, and he could hear the sound of his skin sticking and popping free from your core. A faint wetness to his thighs came into focus from the fuzzy edges of his mind. He felt like he was melting from the center outward. 

Alastor failed to say anything when his climax mounted because it blindsided him. He leaned back for leverage and held your thighs for grip. A few harsh slaps of his skin into yours, your body rocking up slightly with the force before you felt his own warm wetness filling you. A sensation that came in waves with each twitch of his cock. When his body stuttered and a few more thrusts chased his semen deeper into you, your feet kicked out in an uncontrollable spasm of pleasure. 

You took in a deep breath and pulled him closer with your legs as soon as you regained control. Alastor’s turn to fist the sheets, you working your thighs and core to ride him from your place on your back. A few more sharp inhales, pressure mounting to a daunting peak before you could make that string snap. It took a frenzied self fucking with Alastor’s now oversensitive cock but you managed to find some relief with a small orgasm.

Alastor didn’t need you to announce it for him to understand. A modest wave of embarrassment hit, not only was he woefully incorrect but the pleasure was apparently so great you’d chase more friction to reach your orgasm on a cock before just taking your own hand. Was it impolite to not have offered to help?

Your body went slack, muscles disengaging as your sweaty thighs and ass slid from his lap and down his legs. He was still bent over you and cock buried half in you, catching his breath.

“I suppose I should eat crow now. Your little flower is far more accommodating than I gave you credit for!” He pulled out in one go and you felt the rush of his seed spilling out after him. “Though you must admit there was a little discomfort.”

With a heavy sigh you nodded, “Sometimes a little bit makes it feel even better…” a swoosh and a twinkle was heard just past your knees but you didn't move to open your eyes.

A clawed finger booped your nose, “If you value your afterlife…”

A sharp stare to the fully dressed and unsticky radio demon knelt between your legs, you rolled your eyes at the empty threat he always gave you after your unfettered talks, “I won't tell a soul.”

“Good girl!”

*a rake is a rakehell (hell raiser), considered loose with morals for chasing women and drink.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk  , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  @fizzled-phoenix   , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl  @smoky000

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@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[mochie85]

When The Ball Drops

Summary: A continuation of "Have Mercy." Loki tries so hard to get you to kiss him again but you resist him. Until he comes up with a plan on New Year's Eve. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 3.5k Warnings: Fluff, kissing, cameos from multiple Avengers, the use of Y/N

It had been weeks since you saved Loki’s life and brought him back from his near-death experience. Or as Loki fondly likes to call it, “the time you asked him out on a date.” He was relentless with his flirtations towards you. He would seek you out at all hours, multiple times a day, just to wear you down.

One time he caught you by the kitchen pouring yourself a cup of coffee. “There you are, my angel.” He slid on the side of the counter, pulling up right next to you. “I have a headache. Do you think you could kiss it and make it all better?” he crooned so sweetly.

“No,” you answered him flatly and walked away, sipping your coffee.

Or, that time you were kickboxing with Sam. While Loki and Thor just happened to be training on the mat across from you. Thor had knocked him down with a single blow. Loki immediately cried to you from the floor. “Darling! My brother doesn’t seem to know the difference between practice and actual combat. Could you spare me a kiss so that I can continue and teach him a lesson?” He lay on the floor with his hair falling from the loose bun he kept it in. His arms spread apart, looking up at you through thick, long lashes.

“No, Loki!” You were so irritated that you took your fighting gloves off and threw them on the floor. Missing his head by an inch. Loki didn’t even flinch as he watched you storm off in anger. “Go to med-bay if you’re injured!”

“My angel,” Loki purred this morning after a team meeting. “I seem to have a paper cut on my finger. Can you-”

“No! Loki I will not kiss you!” you asserted, gathering your materials to get out of there quickly.

“I was going to suggest you lick it. But if that’s what you prefer, I’ll take it as a consolation prize,” he smiled and puckered his lips towards you. Your palms had never itched more, wanting to slap the kiss right off his mouth. You growled in frustration as you turned on your heel and walked out.

Loki heard light chuckles coming from the end of the large meeting table. Wilson and Barnes were shaking their heads, having watched the whole scene play out. “Is there something that you two find amusing?”

“Ya, man. You!” Wilson answered.

“I’m glad my shortcomings amuse you,” Loki answered with a slight upturn of his lip.

“Let me give you some advice,” Sam said walking over to him.

“Not warranted. Nor requested.”

“I’ma give it to you anyway.” Sam clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “You need to chill.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki said astounded.

“The more you push, the harder she resists,” Barnes interjected.

“Stop harassing her,” Sam continued.

“You, constantly being around her, reminding her of that kiss, is not gonna go well for you,” Barnes added.

“Are you saying that she regretted healing me?” Loki questioned.

“No,” they both answer in unison.

“Anyone can see that she was smitten with you from day one!” Sam declared.

“And she wouldn’t just kiss anybody. She offered to heal my arm once, though,” Barnes said to Wilson. “I wonder if she would’ve kissed me then?” He said introspectively, biting his lip in thought. Loki sneered at the notion.

“But she thinks that you’re just teasing her. That you’re not sincere with your feelings and you’re just looking for a way to provoke or annoy her.”

“I honestly don’t know how I can make it any clearer for her that I’m interested other than to ask her flat-out naked!”

“NO!” they both screamed again.

“Well, it would've worked on Asgard.” Loki pouted, crossing his arms as he sat on the ledge of the conference table.

“I’m sure it would’ve,” Sam nodded sarcastically. “Look, do you really like her?” Loki gave him a sardonic look, appalled that Wilson would even ask such a question.

“Then prove to her that you’re worthy of her affections. Wait for her to ask you. That way you’ll know she wants you too and not just because she’s trying to save your life.” At this last drop of wisdom, Barnes and Wilson left Loki in the conference room, pondering ways to prove his sincerity towards you.

You hurried towards your room, scenes from the last moments with Loki replaying in your mind. How could everything have gone tits up in just a couple of weeks?! You left the meeting today exhausted more than ever. You weren’t sure if it was misplaced gratitude for saving his life or if he genuinely is attracted to you but you didn’t think you could resist Loki anymore.

You know he’s just mocking you about what happened. He doesn’t have any real feelings towards you. It’s in his nature to be playful. But every time he comes anywhere near you and he puckers those lips of his, your knees buckle and you almost give in.

Screw it! If he wants to tease you so badly, maybe you could call his bluff and kiss him back. Perhaps then he’ll realize that his joke had gone way too far and he’d stop. Yes! The next time he teases you, you’ll kiss him right back.

But he never did. After weeks of trying to get under your skin, he finally relented. Morning coffee breaks were innocuous and pleasant. Sometimes, he would have a cup waiting for you, just the way you like it. No quips. No lewd gestures about kissing. Just a handsome smile and a friendly, helping hand.

There were times you would see him walk out of the training rooms with Thor, holding on to his side in pain. You were ready for him to make a quick jab about needing your kiss to heal the ache. But none ever came. Only a quick, “Hello, darling,” in passing as he limped off in the direction of med-bay. You’ve missed your chance.

Days later, holiday lights still glittered around the buildings of New York. Remnants of Christmas still decorated Fifth Avenue. The frigid air nipped at your cheeks making you hold on to your faux mink tighter.

Tony’s New Year’s Eve party was different this year. No celebrities. No politicians. Just the Avengers, along with the friends and family that loved them. He had rented the whole rooftop of the Marriott Marquis, overlooking Times Square. Soft velvet settees were strewn across the space under a luxurious pergola and a fantastic view of the ball waiting to be dropped.  

Lounging next to one of the many heat lamps, you wrapped your coat tighter around your shoulders. “So, who are you kissing when the clock strikes midnight?” Nat asked you, pouring you a glass of Bollinger. Her red lipstick was as bright as her hair. With one side of her fur falling down her shoulder, she looked like the classic Hollywood vixen, ready for her next close-up. Fitting for tonight’s Vintage Hollywood theme.

“I don’t know,” you lied, taking the stem from her hand. You knew exactly who you wanted to kiss tonight. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Liar.” She said so cooly. You smirked, chastising yourself for trying to lie to one of the world’s best interrogators. “I bet I could guess who!” She sang as you rolled your eyes.

“Even if I did want one of them to kiss me, that doesn’t mean that they will.”

“Come on. I’m sure one of them would love to snog you at midnight,” she chuckled. “An extra blessing of good health and fortune for the coming year…” She wagged her eyebrows and elbowed you.

“Oh, please.”

“Ok, there’s Steve.”

“Your ex?!”

“Ya!”

“No!” you exclaimed.

“He’s a great kisser.”

“Then why don’t you kiss him at midnight”

“We’re trying to get YOU kissed. Not me, remember? OK, what about Thing 1 and Thing 2?” She said pointing to Sam and Bucky.

“No,” you said laughing.

“Why not?”

“No. I just don’t see them that way. It’ll make for an awkward kiss.”

“How ‘bout Bruce?”

“Bruce isn’t even here.” You said looking around the party.

“Ok then, what about Thor?”

“He’s with Jane.”

“Why not try your luck with tall, dark, and stabby then?” she said pointing to Loki with her champagne flute. You snorted at her nickname for Loki nearly spilling champagne as you took a calculated sip. “Oh my god!”

“Nat! Please. Keep your voice down!”

“No one can hear me! It’s a loud party.”

“Yes, a party with superhuman beings who have superhuman hearing!”

“Good! Maybe he’ll make a move!” She said slightly louder, hoping to grab his attention.

“Shh! Shh! Keep it down!” you laughed as you tried to calm her. “He’s been making moves. But I think…I dropped the ball on this one.” You looked over to where Loki was standing, trying to see if he had caught anything that Nat was saying. He was standing proud, having a conversation with Steve. His long black coat fit him snugly while the fur lining of his collar accented his sharp jaw. His gloved hand squeezed tightly around the cane he was holding, making you wonder if he did hear Nat. God, to have that gloved hand wrapped around my neck.

��He’s staring at you.” You heard Nat whisper to your ear.

“What?!” you turned to Nat and then back to Loki quickly, meeting his stare. You were so caught up in imagining his hands that you missed his eyes on you.

You see Loki and Steve staring at both of you, saying things under hushed tones. “They’re probably looking at you,” you explained. “What’s the deal between you and Steve, anyway?” You changed the subject.  “How long has it been since you guys talked?”

“A while.”

“How long is a whi-”

“Listen, since I don’t have anyone to kiss either, why don’t we just kiss each other at midnight? Deal?”

You paused at her ability to change the subject. You gave her a knowing look but allowed her to escape your scrutiny. “Deal!” you sighed, giggling as you clinked your glasses again and took sips readying for round two.

Loki smirked as he listened to your entire conversation. Up until now, he’s been patiently waiting for you to come to him. Giving you compliments. Finding small but lingering ways to touch you. He didn’t know if his tactics were working until he overheard your conversation with Agent Romanoff. He was confident you returned his affections.

Nerves shot through his entire body. Excitement and anxiety all rolled into one giant emotion he could not define. Who knew that Barnes and Wilson’s advice would work? “Tell me, Rogers, what is this tradition you guys have about kissing each other at midnight?” Loki asked as he watched you and Romanoff.

Steve followed Loki’s stare and saw you and Natasha lounging and laughing over a bottle of champagne. He remembered how he and Nat kissed at midnight last year, promising each other to try. But ultimately failing after six months.

“It’s a stupid superstition that doesn’t mean anything,” Steve said bitterly. Loki gave him a look to continue. “It’s said that whoever you kiss at midnight, will be your sweetheart for the rest of the year. Or if you’re already in a relationship, make it stronger.”

“I see,” Loki said contemplatively.

“It’s just superstition, Loki, don’t buy into it.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to find my brother.” Loki excused himself, already putting together details of a plan in his head.

“Thor! Thor…” he said pulling him aside. “Did you know about this Midgardian tradition of kissing at midnight?”

“Yes! Jane and I planned on it when the hour strikes. Who will be your intended, dear brother?” Thor asked happily. Loki looked at him pointedly. “Oh! You got the priestess to agree to kiss you?! That’s wonderful news!”

“Not quite. I need your help.”

“Get Help?”

“NO! For Father’s sake, if you throw me across the room, I will END YOU!”

 “Alright, alright. I jest Loki. What can I do to help?”

“I’d like to kiss her at midnight, but too many people are vying for her attention. Too many variables. Too many options.”

“Don’t worry little brother, I’ve got this!”

Ten minutes before midnight, you can feel the buzz in the air as everyone scrambles to ring in the new year. You and Nat had graduated to the bar. Both of you nursing new flutes of prosecco.

Behind you, Thor rushes through the crowd looking for Steve. “Rogers, who are you kissing at midnight? Nat or Wanda?”

“Nat or Wanda? What do you mean?”

“Well, you have to kiss someone. Isn’t that your Midgardian tradition? And I figured you wouldn’t want to kiss Nat, I mean with your history and all…”

“Well, ya…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about Thor’s proposition. “But what about Y/N?”

“Oh, Lady Y/N is kissing my brother.”

“Loki?! But, I…”

“Oh, I apologize. Did you want to kiss my brother instead?” Thor asked quickly. “I can look for him and change his mind. I didn’t know you had…”

“NO! No, I don’t. But, um…”

“Wonderful! So, Nat or Wanda?”

“I guess Wanda,” Steve shrugged. “Nat and I do have a history.”

“Perfect! I’ll let Wanda know.”

“Now hold on just a second…” Steve’s voice trailed away as Thor sprinted into the crowd. His eyes searched for the Scarlet Witch among the revelers and found her amidst a harem of men all rivaling for her attention.

“Wanda!” Thor shouted, frightening some of the men in the group. “Come. Steve says he wanted to kiss you at midnight!”

“I knew it! He couldn’t hide behind that shy act for long!” she said standing up and smoothing out her dress.

“Perfect! You should go to him right now, and make sure no one else claims him before you do.” Thor said. Wanda nodded with determination and marched her way over to Steve.

“Oh, come on Thor!” Wilson said behind him. “I was just about to ask her!” Thor turned to see Sam and Bucky amongst Wanda’s many admirers.

“Uh…you’re in luck, my dear friends. I know someone anxious to kiss you both.” Thor gleamed.

“Us both?” Bucky questioned. Thor pointed to where you and Natasha sat.

“Ooh, nice choice. But I doubt that Steve would actually like that.” Sam said.

“And I believe Y/N is already spoken for,” Bucky added, pointing to Loki walking in your direction.

“It is for Steve we do this!” Thor wrapped his bulging arms around each of their necks. “We all know how miserable both he and Natasha are right now. Make him a little jealous. Perhaps he’ll rise to the occasion and get back his true love.”

“His true love?” Sam questioned.

“For true love!” Thor repeated, squeezing their necks tighter.

“The things we do for our friends,” Bucky grumbled under his breath.

Meanwhile, Loki made his way to the bar where you and Nat were laughing. “Ladies,” he said in that low baritone of his. “I’m sorry to disrupt your merriment, but may I speak to you privately, Agent Romanoff?”

You and Nat exchanged glances as she raised her eyebrow. A smirk fell upon her red lips and that’s when you felt it. A sharp pang of jealousy that twisted a knife in your gut. You hoped that your smile was still plastered on your face. Lord knows Nat could spot a tell from a mile away and you weren’t as good at hiding it as she was.

Loki offered his hand and Nat took it, hopping off the barstool, hand in hand with the man you’ve been pining for. You waited till both their backs were to you when you turned back around to the bar and let your smile die.

“Can I get a shot of tequila!” you yelled to the bartender, holding up your hand. You watched as Loki led Nat to the middle of the room, his arm wrapped around her delicate waste. “Make it a double!” you said with a huff. The sight in front of you was too much to witness. You had accepted that you might not get to kiss Loki at all tonight, but to watch him kiss someone else would be devastating to you.

With nothing, and no one else, keeping you at the party you decided to leave. You ran from the party as quickly as possible with your head turned down, holding back tears and feelings of betrayal.

“Loki, I hope you’re not gonna ask me for a kiss at midnight. That’s a hard pass.” Nat started before he took her very far.

“No, my dear. I overheard your conversation earlier with our dear healer. I was hoping to alleviate your promise of kissing her at midnight by offering you an alternative.”

“What alternative?”

“Two, alternatives actually.” At this, Loki gently grabbed Natasha’s shoulder and spun her around to see Bucky and Sam by the DJ booth. Sam held his drink up to her in greeting, while Bucky just grinned.

“Two! Steve wouldn’t like this.”

“Roger’s is kissing the Witch tonight.” He pointed to where Steve and Wanda were talking. Jealousy burned inside Natasha. A quiet resolve cemented in her and she was set on making him pay for it. “But what about Y/N?”

“As I said, I plan to take charge of her kiss from midnight, and all her kisses thereafter,” Loki winked at her.

“Don’t play with her heart, Loki.”

“I should warn you of the same with your soldier, agent.” He bowed slightly as Nat sauntered her way over to the two soldiers waiting for her.

When Loki turned back towards the bar, his face had fallen realizing that you were no longer there. Panicked, he looked around and found a trail of your coat just as it disappeared inside the hotel. Loki looked at his watch- three minutes left. The crowd below started getting restless and the giant numbers on the large screen on top of the prismatic ball had started ticking down towards midnight.

“Darling, where are you going? The clock is about to strike.” Loki caught up to you at the elevators. You gulped at the sight of him coming towards you. Inside the lobby, the heat was almost suffocating, and Loki unbuttoned his coat to be less stifling. You watched as he removed his gloves, finger by finger, and stuffed them into his coat pocket. The action mesmerized you until you were face to face with him.

“Loki! Shouldn’t you be with Natasha right now?” You said as you looked up at the elevator numbers ticking by so slowly. You pushed the call button praying for the lift to come faster.

“She’s currently entertaining Thing 1 and Thing 2. If my memory of your conversation serves me correctly.” You stared at him in disbelief. You might have had too much to drink. But not enough to miss the implication of what that meant.

He knows. He overheard your conversation and he knows!

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you towards him, leading you away from the elevators. Away from the notion of running.

His fingers were soft and warm as he cupped your cheek. “Since you’ve saved my life, I have plotted and asked several times for you to kiss me again, my angel. I will not ask again.” His lips were grazing your skin. The heat in his breath intoxicated you. You closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of being held by him.  “I told myself that the next time we kiss, it would be because you asked me to. Not out of any obligation. But because you want me. As much as I want you.”

Outside you could hear the deafening roar of people counting down from ten. It melded with the electric buzz going through your body being held so close by Loki. “But I truly can't resist you any longer. I have thought of nothing else since you kissed me that day on the field.”

“Loki…”

“Please ask me.” Three.

“What?” Two.

“Ask me to kiss you.” One.

“Kiss me Loki-” you barely said his name when his lips found yours and held on tight.  A slight whimper fell from your lips, and he reacted by holding you tighter against his body.

Your fingers were entwined in his hair, holding him close to you. You pulled away to catch your breath, and his lips followed yours—unsatisfied from the short amount of contact they had received.  

This kiss was different than the last. There wasn’t a threat of losing his life hanging over you. Instead, the urge was from longing and desire. There was fire and vigor in his lips. And you consumed him easily like a starved woman.

“Happy New Year, my dear,” Loki exhaled between kisses.

“Happy New Year,” you giggled holding him tight.

⬅️ Have Mercy (prequel)

🏷️ Tags in the comments

[eregyrn-falls]

ID. A series of screenshots from a tiktok by @ morkanslil_y.

First: a screenshot of a tweet from @ PsychosMarket of the background of the kid Stans' room from ATOTS. The tweet is captioned, "Oh."

@ 161qura replies with a very close-up image of the Lincoln Logs house on the floor of their room, with the caption, "ford built thr house he and stan dreamed of... fuck"

Over top of this screenshot is a caption, "ford modeling his house after an old house he and stan made". (That text appears to be added by morkanslil_y in the tiktok video, but it's unclear.)

Second: a screenshot from "The Time Traveler's Pig", showing the early Shack in winter, when Ford owned it. It's clearly the same shape as the Lincoln Logs house.

Third: a screenshot from "Carpet Diem" of Dipper in bed in Ford's old room. Dipper has taken the large painting of the tall ship (that hung over his bed in the attic), and put it on the wall. Over the screenshot is the text, "all the mentions of boats and pirate adventures in his room".

Fourth: a screenshot from ATOTS, a close-up of the wall in the kid Stans' room. It shows a model sailing ship, and a pirate treasure map hanging on the wall, as well as a ship's wheel leaning against the wall.

Fifth: a screenshot of younger Ford in Gravity Falls, looking down at the open Journal in his hands. (It's from his narration of finding the Cipher Wheel, in Weirdmageddon Pt. 3.). Over the screenshot is the text, "not to mention in J3 he helps stan remember their old memories with videotapes from their childhood. they must've been kept in PRISTINE condition for decades."

Below, on the same image, the text says: "Even after everything that happened to them, he refused to throw memories of his brother away; subconsciously thinking of him in every decision, every choice."

Sixth: a screenshot from Weirdmageddon Pt. 3, of Dipper holding Stan's hand as they enter the Shack, after Stan has lost his memory. Over the screenshot is the text, "How painful it must be to love, and deny that same love you hold dearly for your family even after you become strangers?"

Finally, at the bottom of the image, the text says (at a larger size and in all caps): "Yall downplay how much Ford loves his family bro the Pines make me so ill" (followed by two crying emojis).

End ID.

(I've often thought about this, and somewhere, never finished, I have gathered images to do some meta on how Ford is actually a very sentimental man, as evidenced by things he has around the Shack. So I'm not adding the next two details to disagree with the post or the tiktok's points.)

I just wanted to add two small corrections:

One, that the evidence of the painting of the tall ship, as seen in Ford's old room in the screenshot in the post, isn't a good piece of evidence for him having mentions/evidence of pirates and boats in his room. The tall ship painting hung over Dipper's be in the attic, and was only seen in Ford's old room briefly in "Carpet Diem", when Dipper moved it there when he claimed it briefly as his room. The painting gets moved back when he goes back to the attic.

(You can argue whether the painting was acquired by Ford, or by Stan. It's pretty unclear. I do like to think of it as having been Ford's though.)

Two, the mention that Ford helped Stan regain his memories with videotapes from their childhood, which must have been kept in pristine condition. This mistake doesn't surprise me, but -- videotapes weren't invented until long after their childhood. I think this was just an unconscious assumption by the maker of the video. In Journal 3, it just says "home movies", and Dipper's drawing includes a reel-to-reel film projector. THAT is the technology they would have had when they were kids!

Those can last for decades, but they do have to be stored carefully, and treated carefully. (They had a tendency to break, but if they did, you could physically splice them together and still play them.).

So the point stands! Ford kept those, and somehow kept them in good shape (despite heat, humidity, and cold in the cabin). He would have had to go to some effort to keep them able to be played in 2013.

I saw this on tiktok and I want to kill myself!! Ford haters stay LOSING!!!!!!!

He loves very deeply!! You guys are just mean to him!!!!!!

[rockwgooglyeyes]

In and of itself, Nowhere is the prophecy that Ivan has written for himself, one of self destruction. Fitting for one of the most tragic characters in this show, the one whose love was requited but who never let it be anything due to his own stubbornness and blindness. Not only that but the way that he thinks of himself, as a monster who only serves to hurt those who he loves, is something that proves not to be true, necessarily, but it proves to be true through Ivan's twisted worldview as he hurt Sua by making fun of her sacrifice and he hurt Till by kissing him at the worst possible time. This song, Ivan's first solo since Black Sorrow, echoes that in being another self-fulfilling prophecy of Ivan's, another lie that he told himself so many times that he made it come true.

The repetition of musical elements such as the lifting scale of chimes, the swing of the instrumentals, the snare and percussion being pretty much the same every time only adding to the sensation of mounting foreboding up and up, a rising action that continues to rise but never truly reaches a climax, no culmination, no conclusion until death. My friend Zen (@verdantlights) called it eerie, and I agree. The way that the song all comes together, it feels like a tragedy unfolding in front of you, over and over, one that you know will happen and yet you can do nothing to prevent. It's almost like the "tainted history" that Ivan talks of, the repetition of events again and again over time, the way that history seems to be cyclical and we, as humans, never seem to truly learn.

In certain ways, the song is about the way that the perceived reality of the world and the world's actual reality are very, very different things. Considering the line about "a stiff dream dyed in rose-colored hues" that slowly changed to a dream dyed purple, to a dream dyed black, it is the way that when we are children we are able to hope for a better future than the one we think will actually come and how as we age, we are traumatized by the world to the point where we can no longer hope for anything better. Becoming someone who dismisses hope because you've tried hoping before and you only ended up with a kick in the gut and a punch in the face, well, that's a trauma response. We are all slowly traumatized over time into believing that the world can't get better, our rose-colored dreams becoming purple until they finally fade to black, blotted out by the corruption of memory, those times when we dared to dream and we were shot down from out of the sky, our wax wings not even given the chance to melt. We are beaten down by life, over and over again, until we are simply forced to go through the routine that society demands of us and say that we are content (wake up, wake up to the usual routine & wake up, wake up to this beautiful life, is it for real?).

The worst part is that Ivan knows better (a dustlike existence can't open its eyes to look. I close my eyes). The whole reason why Ivan admires Till so much in the first place is his willingness to fight, his hope for a future without slavery for humans, his unadulterated and true love. Ivan knows what hope feels like and he knows that he just can muster it anymore, too exhausted to be anything other than apathetic (the wounds that kept reopening just became numb), but he can still love Till's vivacity and drive for change. Ivan views himself as something dirty, something broken that only serves to break others. He thinks that he's a monster who can only do the people he loves harm, and to a degree, that's true, his belief a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Ultimately though, Ivan is an immensely unreliable narrator, someone so biased against himself and towards literally anyone else but someone who is so stubborn that he is unwilling to believe anyone else's opinions on him because they have never met his "true self" only the mask that he wears that he ends up digging a deeper and deeper hole. He thinks of his story as one that's already written, the repetition of the line "this always happens to me" echoing that, especially with the way that eventually that song ends with it repeated again, "yeah, it's always like that, this always happens to me." Ivan isn't trying to fight it because his dream has long since been stained black, despite the fact that he knows that he could break out of this cycle of despair. He knows this prophecy that he is submitting to is one that he wrote himself and yet, where he stands right now? He has no will to change it.

note: My friend Ish (@chevalperd) screenshotted @/ivantill7089 (on twitter)'s english translation of this song for me, which is what I am referencing for the lyrics! I love you Ish thank you again so much :3

[renirae]

Tim Drake and stalking as a love language

I have this idea that Tim has been stalking people as a love language actually years before he ever discovered Robin's identity.

It started when he was six and his parents were visiting. Tim was already being taken care of by a live-in nanny, so he rarely saw his parents - even while in Gotham, they were still usually out of the house, going to galas and dining with important businessmen.

However, one night they actually did stay home, and Tim was so excited to finally spend a day with them before they flew out the next day!! ...Until he learned they were only home because they were having a dinner party.

Now, it was clear that Tim wasn't a part of the guest list; but Janet made the mistake of not telling Tim to go to his room. Instead, she specifically said "Timothy, I don't want to see you for the rest of the night".

Tim, of course, realized the loophole; they weren't allowed to see him, but he could watch them. And as long as he wasn't caught, he'd be following his parents' rules AND spending time with them before they left!

So before the dinner, he found somewhere to hide in the dining room, and he watched his parents the entire night. And it was great! They even talked about him to some of their guests, called him a "smart and independent young man". They'd never said that to Tim's face, but he glowed with pride from the compliment for days after. His strategy had worked perfectly.

For the next few visits he did the same thing. Every time his parents were home but didn't want to see him, he simply watched them instead. It was basically spending time together!

Eventually though, Tim grew older, and visitors to the mansion started to ask why their son was never a part of the dinners. But rather than adding Tim to the guest list, his parents simply stopped ever hosting events.

Tim at this point had already started stalking Batman and Robin, so he had a genius idea; he could follow his parents around Gotham to watch them too!

So yeah, this continued until Janet's death; whenever his parents came to Gotham and went to go, for example, meet a colleague in a restaurant, Tim would find a way to sneak in or otherwise watch over them. Obviously by this age he was now aware just how... not-normal this behaviour was, but it was also basically the only time he ever saw his parents interacting with each other without Tim around. And again, they even sometimes complimented him! He would never have known that if he hadn't kept watching them! So... yeah, no matter how creepy he knew it was, he couldn't convince himself to stop.

Of course, the canon stalking of Batman and Robin continued as well - after Robin switched hands, Tim even sometimes went to Bludhaven to stalk Nightwing around too, although those trips were much more few and far between given the necessary added amount of planning and travel.

That, of course, continued until Jason's death... and then Tim's mother and later his father died too, so you'd think Tim would have nobody else to stalk, right?

...Well, old habits die hard.

Even after getting friends and family, Tim couldn't quite stop himself from stalking them. Perhaps it was because his parents always got annoyed when Tim tried to spend time with them, so he grew paranoid that his new friends and family were the same way - if he was too clingy, they would stop wanting to spend time with him. So if he wanted to see a certain family member but he'd spent time with them too recently, he ended up just hiding and watching them instead. Just like with his parents, he could spend time around them without them getting annoyed at him. It was a win-win!

(Of course, he now lived with a bunch of other stalkers (even if most of them did it for vigilantism reasons and not to their actual friends and family like Tim did), so this couldn't last forever. I imagine they slowly caught on, one by one, and once the entire family was aware they all worked together to stage an intervention.

And since I refuse to write unhappy endings - during the intervention, it takes some prodding, but Tim finally opens up. He tells them about his parents, and admits he stalks people because he's worried he'll be seen as clingy like they did. And after many many reassurances that his parents were wrong and everyone loves him the way he is, they all hug him and have a movie night or something and it's happily ever after :))

[alesbianperson]

loser!ellie williams x loser!reader

summary: You're down bad for intelligent people (Ellie yapping about smart things)

warnings: both reader and Ellie are huge simps for each other tbh, like one swearword, my writing probs

authors note: here I am again after half a fucking year woah idk i got this idea randomly in the middle of class cause I'm such a sucker for people who say smart things also idk if the facts that are stated in this oneshot are 100% true I've done research but I have legit no clue how the universe works so heres that lmao

also here daily click for everyone

--☆--

"I hope everyone did their homework. We'll need it for the following group project."

"Shit!" You heard your best friend hiss at todays greeting of Mrs Thomson, your english teacher. She then leaned over her desk towards you. "Did you, by any chance, do the homework?"

"Yeah, I did. Just hope we get sorted into the same group." You chuckled, looking back at your teacher as she kept talking. "Everyone will find a card with a certain symbol on it on their desk," she further explained the group project. You looked at the card on the right side of your table, wondering how you didn't notice it sooner. "Everyone with the same symbol then gets together and works with the sheets I'll hand out."

Right as she finished her introduction, you took the card on your desk and turned it around. A big, self drawn, blue star was on the other side. Quickly, you turned to your left, where your best friend sat and held up your card. She suddenly smiled and proudly held up her own card, a blue star drawn on it as well, and quickly made her way over to you. "The luck is on my side!" She squealed, stretching the last i. You just laughed off her dramatic character.

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, locking eyes with beautiful green ones. You smiled at the girl in front of you, and she returned it, which brought out her cute dimples. A few strands of her auburn hair, which she had tucked back in a lower bun, framed her face perfectly and contrasted those beautifully drawn freckles on and all around her nose.

Ellie Williams.

The girl you've shared the same class with since elementary school. A talented guitar player with straight a's in all science subjects. You never really had anything to do with her, though. Except maybe some small school projects or homework comparison. Therefore, you two also weren't friends.

She held up her arm, exposing various little doodles and drawn symbols on her hand and arm by her fallen down sleeve. From little stars and planets over to abstract patterns, everything scribbled with a black pen. Too focused on that: you didn't even wonder why she held up her arm until your best friend slid a third chair to your desk. Only then did you see the card in her hand with the same star drawn on it as on yours.

The very same moment, Mrs. Thompson came around, handing out the worksheet that was needed. You took it from her, smiling as a 'thank you' and read the first few instructions. "Why are we always doing such unnecessary tasks? We don't even have to be in groups for that." You rolled your eyes annoyed as you told your best friend, handing her the sheet. She skipped over it as well, then handed it over to Ellie. "Fuckin' stupid." She added.

"It won't take that long, though." Ellie started participating in the conversation, "if we hurry, we'll have a longer break." You both nodded, agreeing with her statement. But as you looked over the tasks again, a sigh left your lungs, and with as little motivation as possible, you pulled out your block for notes. A pen already in her hand, your friend copied your move, but making no effort to do any of it.

You just turned towards her, trying to hold the conversation unnoticed by Mrs. Thompson. "Oh my God, yesterday my dad was searching for some key he had lost, but instead found a few old photos from him and his friends when they went stargazing as teenagers!" You loved space, and the photos that were shown to you yesterday by your dad were breathtaking. The original plan was to take them to school, but you unfortunately left them at home, lying on your desk. Of course, you had to promise your friend to at least send a photo of the pictures this evening so she could see them as well.

With a new topic to talk about, the task was long forgotten. Ellie instead decided to blend out your conversation and began working on the few questions regarding the previous homework. They were easy, to say the least, probably again some excuse for Mrs Thompson to see who did something at home and who did nothing, just to grade the homework higher than she could. Ellie didn't really mind, though, because even though English has never really been her strength in school, Mrs Thompson made it really easy to get acceptable grades with just a bit of diligence.

"Ellie?" Your voice made her eyes look up from her work, looking at you expectingly. "We need a third opinion," you continued, as you gave your best friend a triumphant look. "You do know a lot about planets, right?" Ellies nod answered your question, so you went ahead. "If you could rank the planets in our solar system, which categories would you compare to decide on the coolest planet?" Ellie smiled slightly at the question you just threw in the room. With the summary of Shakespeares 'Romeo and Juliet', which they had as homework, still half in mind, she needed a few seconds before actually thinking about a possible answer she could give.

Always when admiring those planets, the first thing that came to her mind were the different characteristics that made each planet so individual. All the different sizes, colours, and features, and none of them would be able to exist without the Sun.

As you noticed, she wasn't gonna answer right away, you just began elaborating on your idea that your best friend declined to Ellie. "If I'd have to rank the coolest planets, I'd definitely rank the ones high that have cool features such as many moons or something. What should not be a main category," you jokingly glared at your best friend as you emphasised the negation,"is the colour of a planet." She just rolled her eyes at your comment.

"Actually," Ellie cut in, "I think the colours are just as interesting as the rest. It resembles the structure and material of the planet, which gives it such cool features in the first place." Her answer impressed you. How could her words make so much sense? A slight warmth in your belly caught your attention, which you just swallowed further down. "But I get your point." She added afterwards.

The confident smirk you sent towards your best friend because of Ellies approval brought up the corners of her mouth slightly.

"It still is soo much cooler to say 'did you know, jupiter was supposed to be a star' instead of, I don't know, 'neptun is blue woah'" You explained your argument again. This time, Ellies eyebrows wrinkled slightly before she voiced her objection.

"Actually, jupiter isn't a failed star. It falsely has the name because it was born from the same cloud of molecular gas that gave birth to the Sun. But without the Sun, Jupiter wouldn't even be able to exist. It was never even close to growing massive enough to become a star as well. It would need about 16 times the mass it already has to even be rightfully considered a failed star.."

As Ellie realized what she said, blush slightly reddened her cheeks. "Sorry, that was not the point you were making.." she added and then quickly looked down at her finished task and pretended to read it over again. You didn't know why, but something about her answer made your stomach flutter, so you just stared at her starstruck, not having any intention of stopping soon. If your eyes could turn into blinking hearts, they would've done so already.

You knew that girl was a nerd and knew a lot. Especially about astronomy (she may or may not have held a presentation about the milkyway, because she thought your teacher didn't do that topic enough justice) but what you didn't know is how such an answer could have such an effect on you. You looked down at your poorly written notes to distract yourself from your current thoughts.

God, you were fucked.

[rubyjones]

Mate, I am not under-informed on this matter, although it sounds like you might be. I kept my arguments brief because this post is not about the ethical issues (which make me furious) and I was trying to reign in my anger so as not to direct it to people who don't know. I didn't give a million sources because I am very sick and writing this was a huge undertaking, with health consequences.

Those health consequences are still in effect, so I'm afraid I am not in a position to dissect the misapprehensions above. Also, my cat is currently sitting on my neck because I am on Tumblr and not playing with her, so I'm just gonna say, my Internet credentials, let me show you them:

I have worked on machine learning; I know how it works.

I have a PhD in the philosophy of mind, and before I got sick, one of my research interests was computational theory of mind; I know how it works, my descriptions are not inaccurate.

Another research interest of mine is the aesthetics (not a surprise for an author and artist who is also a philosopher); I have written extensively on the aesthetics and ethical issues under my other pen name. I'm not linking to those posts because I prefer to keep this account separate from me real name. But suffice it to say that I am very well-informed and whoever told you is was just 'applied statistics' and therefore not copyright theft has a fundamental misunderstanding of the concepts involved.

The court cases were not part of the argument, they were evidence that other people are taking this very seriously. Stable Diffusion is not the only company getting sued, it was just the easiest to link to, because I was talking about art. Whether the court cases win or fail depends on the arguments being made and the ability of judges and lawyers to understand the issues involved, something they have often shown themselves to be massively under-informed on. Courtney Milan has written about this extensively, and I would recommend going to her about the law.

I don't have a great expectation you will take my word for it, given the condescending tone of your post. I am not going to argue with you further - I do not have the spoons. I am adding this so people who see your comment in the notes will know which of us is an authority on the matter.

Too many writers are using generative 'AI' to make their book covers, so I've written a guide on how to make your own cover for free or cheap without turning to a machine.

If you can't afford to pay an artist, you CAN make your own!

I hope this is a helpful overview that covers the basics and points to some free resources.

[allastoredeer]

Controversial opinion but I think Lucifer gets babied too much by the fandom. Like I get that he has mental health issues but seeing all this fanmedia of women and men of color nannying this white-adjacent man who has been shown to be an incompetent and absent husband, father and leader. Just. Grinds my gears.

Not saying I hate Lucifer but... when people frame past radiostatic with current radioapple as a huge upgrade, it reeks of a woman leaving her abusive ex for a neglectful husband. While I'm glad Lucifer is a step up from Adam, I need to see actual improvements if I don't want to get the ick.

Agreed.

I massively agree.

Lucifer gets babied a lot. And like you said, yes, he has mental health issues and that's valid, but a lot of the time, it feels like his mental health issues become a scapegoat for his flaws and bad behavior.

Depression is a legit reason for Lucifer to struggle to maintain relationships and reach out to those he cares about. As someone who has suffered from depression, I understand pulling away from people, feeling like you need a reason to reach out to someone, having a negative opinion of oneself, getting overwhelmed with anxiety, even ignoring other people's attempts at reaching out to me because it's just...too hard and it's too much and you're stuck in this cycle that you can't break out of.

HOWEVER

Lucifer's depression doesn't take away from the fact that he's neglected Charlie as a parent. It doesn't negate the fact that he has acted condescendingly towards her and her ambitions. It doesn't counteract the fact that Charlie felt uncomfortable and awkward for a majority of their interactions in "Dad Beat Dad."

I sympathize with Lucifer having depression, but unfortunately, mental illness doesn't just effect you, it also effects the people around you, and i can't fault Charlie for her feelings too.

Because at the end of the day, Lucifer is Charlie's father.

Charlie is his child.

And as a parent, he has responsibilities. Ones that he failed to meet, which would have an effect on Charlie as children are meant to rely on their parents.

It's very telling that Charlie calls Lilith (who's been MIA for 7 years) more than she calls Lucifer (who's probably just a few Circles away). And no, I don't think this is because Lilith kept them separated and all that bullshit. I think Lucifer 100% had a hand in his and Charlie's estranged relationship and I hate it when he's passed off as nothing but a victim in all of it.

I hate it when he's boiled down to sad depressed man who's done nothing wrong. He has done plenty wrong.

And that's okay.

Because that's what makes his character good. He is multi-faceted. He is flawed. You can be depressed and still treat the people around you bad. I don't think Lucifer ever meant to be an absent parent, he obviously loves Charlie with all his heart, but that doesn't mean Charlie wasn't affected by his actions.

She very obviously was. Charlie is one of the most positive people in the show (to an extent that it becomes one of her flaws too), but the minute she called Lucifer it was a complete flip of how we normally see her. She was immediately annoyed. Her patience was already wire-thin. She was close to snapping so many times.

And I can see why. He only calls when he's bored/wants/needs something. He forgot about where she was and what she was doing despite her already telling him. He told her that he'd do anything to help her, and then said "no" the minute she asked.

Also, let's not forget how he answered the phone in the first place.

"Heeey, bitch!"

And look, it was funny. I laughed too. I still think it's funny.

But, imagine you called your dad for the first time in years (a dad you have a very strained relationship with) and the first thing you hear is a peppy, "Heeeeey, bitch!"

Like??? I can't blame Charlie for being annoyed as all hell, okay? I get the sense that she's been putting up with this bullshit for a VERY long time ad she's lost all patience for it. She's done. She's sick of it. She's been disappointed one too many times.

Also, yes, it's not just that Lucifer has been an absent father but he's been a neglectful ruler too. I wouldn't be surprised if Pentagram City has as much respect for him as they do for Charlie. I mean

HE SIGNED OFF ON THE EXTERMINATIONS

Lucifer gave the go-ahead for a yearly genocide of the people he rules over. Can we get some repercussions for that? Do you know how many people lost their friends? Family? Lovers? Vaggie literally spared a child--a CHILD. And I doubt that was the first kid ever confronted by an Exorcist.

Imagine that Cherri died during an Extermination and here we have Angel Dust meeting the person who stepped aside and let it happen. Do you think he wouldn't be mad?

Imagine Carmilla did lose her daughters during that Extermination. Do you really think she'd meet Lucifer and feel nothing but anger and contempt?

Personally, I think Lucifer agreeing to the Exterminations is what fractured his and Charlie's relationship. Like, fully fractured it. That was the last nail in the coffin.

And honestly, I WANT Lucifer to see the consequences of the Exterminations. I want him to have repercussions because that was an INCREDIBLY SHITTY THING TO DO. I imagine he didn't think there was any other option, but we also know that he didn't hold the sinners in high regard anyway. He had the lowest of low opinions of them. I doubt it took much convincing for him to agree.

Lucifer is the oldest being in the Pride Ring--he may be the oldest being in Hell. He's the most powerful person there. He is the embodiment of Pride. And he ACTS LIKE IT IN THE SHOW.

He has acted that way towards Charlie too. He didn't go to her hotel with an open mind. He wasn't actually listening to her plan or taking it into consideration. He played stupid when she asked him what he thought about it. And when the hotel was under attack, instead of stopping it (which he could easily done with a snap of his fingers), he was smirking and acting self-satisfied as he gloated about being "right" about Sinners.

And if you think I'm exaggerating then go rewatch that entire scene.

Look at him

He is acting so smug and he is rubbing it in Charlie's face.

LOOK AT CHARLIE! She is in distress. She is angry. And she is hurting. Her hotel is falling to pieces around her, her friends are in danger, and the whole time she had her dad gloating in her ear about why her dream is, essentially, a waste of time.

And the only thing that snapped him out of it was Charlie asking why Alastor (the one actually protecting the hotel) has more faith in her than her own father. It took Charlie bringing up Alastor again for Lucifer to knock his shit off.

Look at how hurt and closed off Charlie is in the last screenshot. I can't imagine that this is the first time Lucifer has acted towards her in this way. Do I think Lucifer meant to hurt Charlie?

No.

But did he?

Hell-to-the-fucking-YES!

Lucifer is an asshole. He acted like an asshole towards Alastor. He's acted like an asshole towards Charlie. And he kind of acted like an asshole towards the rest of the Hazbin crew considering he didn't exchange a single line of dialogue with them. They introduced themselves to him and that was it. Lucifer spent the rest of the time dissing on Alastor and talking exclusively to Charlie and Vaggie.

Lucifer suffers from depression, yes, but that doesn't take away that he is as much of an asshole as any other character in the show. And I hate that being stripped away and getting turned into this sad, babied little man who's awkward and shy and everyone else is just being mean to him. It's so dull and it's such a disservice to his character.

I don't want sweet, shy little UwU Lucifer that needs to be coddled.

I want mean, condescending, ass-hole Lucifer who reaps the consequences of his actions and grows from them.

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Bigfoot

So, we don't really know everything Ford was up to during his time in Gravity Falls. We, the viewers, get to see the Disney, kid-friendly version, but that can't be the full truth. Hence, they don't give us everything.

It's left up to interpretation. My favorite.

We've all seen Stanley's Bigfoot attraction, right? This one.

Personally, I've convinced myself that this is the real bigfoot.

Think about it. Ford was alone, collecting all kinds of specimens for studying! We see a Giants ear, for example. (We know giants exist in some form, because of Steve who eats cars)

How about the Fijji Mermaid Skeleton? (Ford literally dated a siren or mermaid, I can't remember which. And That's not mentioning Mermando!)

Technically, all of these could be fake. We see lots of fake exhibits throughout the shack, which obviously are. Such as the Rock that looks like a face. (It's literally a carved rock. That's the whole attraction, and he sells it beautifully)

Or the thigh-clops. (He is literally gluing the eye on, I CAN SEE YOU STANLEY)

But I don't think those ones are.

The point of this post is this: Stanford Pines is just crazy enough to have captured, killed, and stuffed the real bigfoot.

(Normal people would take just the feet, but no. People won't believe you unless you have the whole corpse)

At least half of the shack's success is built on Ford being literally insane and killing and hoarding specimens of rare species only found in the local ecosystem. Stanley looked at them and said, 'Huh, that's weird, I guess. But I can sell this!' while rubbing his hands together.

AND THEN he made it even more ridiculous with his own stuff, adding his own special touches!!! Like the underwear, because people don't believe it if its too real!!!

(Edit: I just realized. Ford probably kept Bigfoot junk. That's why he wears underwear because Stanley can't put whatever the hell kind of sexual organs a giant ape-man has on display at a tourist trap for kids. Oh my fucking God. Ford you sick bastard. )

I have no idea if anyone else has made this connection, but the fact that Ford made several animals extinct before ever being pushed through the portal is so funny to me.

Like, imagine Ford slinking through the forest of Gravity Falls with his stupid crossbow hunting Bigfoot, the last Dodo Bird on Earth, and hell- I bet he is the one who killed the gnome queen! I said it, that's why they've spent the last three decades looking for a new one!?

We never see any sort of taxidermied gnome, of course, but I bet its somewhere hidden away in the basement. It looks too human to put on display or Stanley is helping cover up Ford's crimes by not airing his worst secret.

Because let's be serious, if Ford killed their queen that explains why we never see any kid gnomes. All the ones still alive are from thirty years ago, having barely ages because of magic. It's kind of like the smurfs I'm guessing with one women a generation.

And Ford basically doomed them to extinction, eventually.

That's-

Stanford Pines is insane. (Look at his dumb face)

BRB, about to go destroy the local wildlife real fast!?!? Be serious people, he would.

-Okay Bye, I'm done rambling.

[lightdancingwords]

One Day - Part One of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 4,556

Tags/Warnings: Violence, profanity, murder/death/kill, angst, arguments, slaps, mention of torture, monsters/supernatural

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is AU as it does veer a bit from the history we see in Season 1 of Supernatural. There will be references to episodes and seasons, but it'll change as the chapters come. Enjoy the ride!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter One: The First Time

Dean was in a mood. Sam had just left for Stanford—and God, that was one Hell of a fight to break up between his brother and John—and his father…. Well, John had been trusting Dean to go on hunts by himself for a while now. Like a good little soldier, doing what daddy said.

After Sam left, John just muttered about how he had a job to do and he had damned well go do it. So… Dean hopped into the Impala and started looking for newspapers to track down the next monster to hunt.

There was a hint of something—a missing person’s case—that didn’t sit right with Dean. He made some phone calls, impersonated an official or two, the usual—and off he went to a cozy little city in Indiana, home of Purdue University.

Go Boilers! Right?

Ugh.

Not that it hurt to see all the hot chicks. Man, college girls….

His missing person’s case was, unfortunately for his libido, not one of the Sororities. He wished it was. He knew pornos weren’t accurate, but wouldn’t it have been nice if they were?

God. He needed to get laid.

He yanked his attention back to the missing person’s case, and realized that while he was driving, investigating, and basically from the date of the first case, three more had gone missing. The monster, whatever it was, was being systematic.

Every single one of the missing persons came from the same floor as this one off-campus apartment complex. If you could call a whacked up house divided into four individual studios an apartment complex.

He tracked down the very last person from that complex, a pretty teenage girl, fresh to college named Y/N.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, trying very hard to stay focused on the hunt and not flirt with her. “You don’t know why the others have gone missing?”

“That’s right,” she said, regarding this ridiculously young looking man dubiously. He didn’t dress like an investigator nor did he act like one.

“Did you know them well?”

She shook her head, fidgeting on the sofa. In the course of two weeks, four people in the building had gone missing. She was the last one left and was, quite honestly, freaking out.

Four studio apartments, four people. Two of them had just moved in together. She was, literally, the last one standing.

“Any weird people hanging around? Repair folks? Maintenance guys? Anything?”

She shook her head again. “No. The only person that came around in the last month was the landlord.”

“Oh yeah? Why’d he come around?”

She let out a sigh. “I really wish I knew. Just something about annual inspection, but we just moved in like… two months ago, right when the semester started.”

“Really? Huh.” That was a potential clue for Dean. He wasn’t sure why the monster would wait almost two months, but maybe there was something related.

“All right, well, if you think of anything, please let me know, okay?”

“I,.. yeah, I will.”

Dean took one look at her and knew she wasn’t going to. He had the feeling she was suspicious about him, but that was nothing new. He just really, really wished he could ask her out for some drinks and then—

God. He really needed to get laid.

She escorted him to the door and shut it firmly behind him. He had a few options, none of them easy. He debated tracking down where the previous missing persons were last seen, but that meant leaving Y/N unguarded. If Sam hadn’t been an idiot, he could’ve done the investigating while Dean played bodyguard.

In the end, Dean parked the Impala out of sight of the apartment complex while giving him sufficient view to keep Y/N safe. And waited.

It took hours. Painfully long hours. Dean was going insane at the wait. But his patience—pfft, what patience?—was rewarded. He saw something, someone, lurking about the complex. He sat up, squinted in the dim lighting.

Oh yeah, there was definitely something there. He grabbed his gun with one hand and the flashlight in the other, and went running.

The drawback of having to park far was that by the time he reached the building, the thing broke into Y/N’s apartment. Broken glass and wood splinters was everywhere, and he cursed up a storm.

Just as he burst through the shattered doorway, he heard Y/N screaming. Without a thought, Dean jumped over the overturned coffee table and saw it—them.

She was actually pushing the monster back, punching and kicking, which won a glint of Dean’s respect, and he got a good view of it: vampire, from the looks of the fangs.

“Hey, ugly!”

The vampire—God, those fangs were nothing like those from movies—turned to see Dean and snarled. It grabbed the girl, shit, and all but flung her into Dean,

Unwilling to let her crash into the coffee table, Dean caught her and went limp as they went down. More wood shattered and he grunted while she cried out, more out of fear than actual injury, he’d wager.

Normally Dean would be all about having a girl on top—maybe even quip that joke—but he had the wind knocked out of him. Just as he tried to shove the girl out of his arms, he saw the vampire leave with a hiss, running out the door.

“Shit,” he cursed, scrambled to his feet and rushed out the door.

Too late.

It was gone.

“Dammit!” His back was aching, his lungs were sore, and he had nothing to pay for it. With more profanities under his breath, he came back inside the apartment.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, going over to the girl to help her get up.

“No, I’m not okay! What the hell was that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.

“Try me,” she said, dusting off her rear. God, what a nice ass.

“All right. It’s a vampire.”

She froze, and stared at Dean. “Excuse me?”

He grinned lopsidedly. “Told ya you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Vampires aren’t real,” she insisted, ignoring the trembling of her hands. Vampires might not be real, but she also knew what she saw: some man with what looked to be monstrous teeth.

“Then explain what you just saw,” he challenged. He marveled at her composure. Not many would be this calm after having had their home broken into and being nearly fed on.

“I…” She stopped. She couldn’t. Not really.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Dean raked his fingers through his hair and let out a breath. “Listen. It isn’t safe to stay here.”

She glanced at Dean, then deliberately looked over at her busted front door. “No shit, Sherlock.”

He grinned. She had fire. He liked that. “You got any place to stay?” he asked, wildly tempted to offer her a motel room and then share it with her.

“N-no…” She bit her lip. “Nothing local. I’m from California.”

He paused and arched a brow. “No kidding’? Why’d you come here?”

“Veterinary school. One of the best and I wanted to get out of the state for a bit.” She paused, then shook her head. “Real smart of me.”

Dean actually felt bad for her. No doubt she wanted to experience a bit of the country, get out of her hometown, and just do the usual college kid thing to do. Instead, her neighbors go missing and she was attacked in her apartment. What a life.

“Okay, well… can you stay at a motel?” he asked.

“I don’t have any money,” she said ruefully. “I can’t…” God, she doubted the landlord had a spare door even if she called him about the break-in. It’d take time, and it wouldn’t be safe.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean insisted. “It’s on me.”

“I am not having sex with you,” she said.

She was so blunt Dean actually did a double-take and laughed. “I wasn’t even going there,” he said with a wry grin. “Look. I’m a hunter, okay? I hunt the supernatural. I’m just helping out here, okay?”

She frowned, wary. He did save her, she had to admit. Could have left her there and chased it down. Even left her to deal with a broken door, the late night police call, everything, all on her own.

“I… o-okay. Can I grab some stuff first?”

“Yeah, go do that. I’ll call the police for you so you got it on file, okay?” That way the landlord’s insurance would cover damages, get her door replaced.

It took an hour, some manipulation of the truth, and then Dean and Y/N were heading to the nearest Motel 6. He ended up having to take her in his car as she didn’t have one. She walked to the college or took the bus, which was why she lived so close by the university.

It felt awkward and weird to ask for two rooms—she insisted, as she wasn’t comfortable sharing a room with a total stranger—but Dean was willing to roll with it. Just chalked it up to a weird case all around.

He was yanking off his boots when he heard a knock at the door. Puzzled, he peered through the peephole and saw her outside his door. He’d be damned lucky if she wanted sex after all. Celebration of life and all that crap.

He was crestfallen a moment later when he opened the door.

“What did you mean, you hunt monsters?”

Damn pornos and their fake stories. He stepped aside to let her in and shut the door. “Just what I said. I hunt monsters.”

“But… monsters aren’t real,” she insisted. For a moment she seemed small and vulnerable. Dean felt an inkling of compassion, wanted to comfort her. He held back, shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

“I know it’s easier to believe that, but they’re real. Vampires, werewolves, Wendigo, ghosts, all that crap.”

“I-if they were real, why isn’t it common knowledge? Why hasn’t the government done anything about them?”

She was trying hard to logic her way through it. Determined chick. “Well, regarding common knowledge… people like to believe that the world isn’t that bad. That there aren’t monsters that go bump in the night. It’s easier to believe they hallucinated and forget it ever happened.”

She regarded Dean dubiously. “And the government?”

“Now that I can’t tell ya. I don’t know. I never met a Man in Black so I’d have to guess they’re a little busy dealing with other shit.” He scratched at his chin.

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was more than a little freaked out. She wasn’t sure how to reconcile what happened, what she saw.

“How do… what am I supposed to do?” She sank down at the edge of the motel bed, wrapped her arms around herself.

“What do you mean?” He joined her on the bed, maintained a polite distance between them. God she smelled good. Like white jasmine.

“I just can’t go back to class pretending I never saw a vampire,” she said, her brows drawn. “Or that my neighbors weren’t attacked and eaten by them.”

Dean cleared his throat, uncertain how to approach her situation. He rarely bothered talking to one of the potential victims this long before. Other hunts he just tracked down and killed, leaving the authorities to deal with the mess. It wasn’t as if John walked him through this shit.

“Well, uh, I guess it’s up to you,” he said honestly. “I’m gonna find this vamp and take it down. That should solve the problem.”

“For this one, sure,” she said, and glanced at Dean. “But what about next time? I mean, you said ghosts?”

“Yep. Unhappy spirits. Demons. You name it, we’ve dealt with them.”

“I don’t…” she trailed off. She looked so lost, Dean felt it in his heart. He had a rather good idea of how she felt, given his exposure to the supernatural at a tender young age.

Ever since Mary died, ever since he saw his mother burning on the ceiling and his father tasking him to keep Sam safe, Dean’s innocence had been lost. He became cynical at a very young age. To him, life was hunting monsters and keeping Sam safe.

Sam was gone now. All that was left was the hunt.

“Take some time to think on it, Y/N,” he said at last, knowing it was awful advice but he had nothing else to offer.

“But I have class tomorrow. How am I supposed to act?”

He bit his lower lip. “Maybe don’t go. We don’t know why this vampire was targeting you and your neighbors.”

“Miss class? Are you insane?”

“What? It’s just class,” he scoffed.

She stared at him. “You’ve never been to college, have you?”

“Nope.” His cocky grin spoke volumes. “Kinda wish I had though. College chicks are hot.”

She rolled her eyes. “College is expensive. Me getting a scholarship to pay for my tuition was a miracle. I can’t afford to fail.”

“Well, it’s not safe for you to go until I catch that vampire,” he argued. God, this chick was stubborn.

Her expression hardened. “I’m not missing class, Dean.”

She won the argument. Damn chick was stubborn as hell. Dean agreed to a compromise: she went to class, he followed her everywhere while doing as many phone calls as he could achieve. Then went absolutely stir crazy while he waited.

She had two classes, which were a good couple of hours long. Then she used the computer lab to do her homework. All in all, he spent about eight hours there.

On the way back, they stopped at her apartment to meet with the landlord. Dean whipped out his fake ID again.

“So you’re saying the annual inspection is unrelated to the disappearances,” Dean said, pressing on the landlord hard. He wasn’t the vampire, but he acted strangely. Didn’t seem to care that someone busted down a door or that four of his tenants went missing.

“That’s right,” the landlord said, his expression hard and shuttered. “I don’t like your implications. Who’s your supervisor?”

“Nunya,” Dean said, annoyed. “Look. Four people are missing and your last remaining tenant got attacked. You’re saying you don’t give a shit?”

“I’m saying I don’t care as long as bills are paid. I’ve already notified the next of kin to come get their belongings. I’m replacing the door. What else do you want me to do?” The landlord was of height to Dean, and glared at him.

Dean wished he could throw down with this jerk. Uncooperative bastard. There was something off about the guy, but Dean couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Fine! What about a security system then?” Dean challenged. “I’m not leaving Y/N to get attacked again!”

“That’s your problem, son!”

Right then and there, Dean very nearly clobbered the guy. Y/N grabbed his arm, hastily saying his name. “Dean… Dean! Stop!”

Dean threw her a furious look, his green eyes dark. He was absolutely disliking how this asshole was approaching the situation. He was not about to leave Y/N alone without something better than a door to keep her safe.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Y/N said calmly. “I appreciate the door being replaced.”

The landlord scoffed, glared at Dean and muttered something about how it’d be replaced within the hour. And left. She waited a moment, then turned on Dean in a fury.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Me? That jackass is a part of this, I’m damned sure of it! And he’s just leaving you to get killed!” Dean wanted to punch something. Or kick. Preferably the landlord.

“If that’s how you treat human beings, I hate to see how you handle harmless monsters,” she shot back.

“Sweetheart, there aren’t any harmless monsters,” he said, wrenching his arm free of her grip.

“That you know of,” she challenged. God, this chick was going to give him a headache. Wait. He was already getting one.

“Christ. What are you, some monster version of PETA?”

She took a deep breath, contemplated slapping him, and counted to ten. Then, mustering as much calm as she could, she fixed a look on Dean. “Look. He can’t do anything else, okay? So what… what can we do?”

In that moment it took everything he had to not joke about fucking. She’d probably hit him. He cleared his throat, calmed down his temper if not his libido. “God. Uh. Okay.” He rubbed his scalp, let out a huff. “Okay. Great. He’s fixing the door. That’s still not gonna keep you safe.”

“Then what? W-what about crucifixion? Holy water?”

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, that’s all Hollywood. Not gonna work.” He let out a breath. God, he deserved Sainthood for what he was about to do. “I can stay with you. Play bodyguard until I catch the vamp.”

“Excuse me?” She looked so offended, Dean wasn’t sure how to take that. He wasn’t ugly, come on. He also liked to think he wasn’t that bad in bed. His flings and one-night stands didn’t seem to complain. Yeesh.

“I can stay here,” he said slowly, enunciating carefully. “I’ll crash on your couch. Play bodyguard.”

“For how long?!”

“For however long it takes! Do you want to die?!” he shot back. He was so frustrated, he was absolutely about to lose it.

“Well, no! No one wants to die!” She threw her hands in the air. “This is a studio apartment, Dean! Ever heard of privacy?!”

Dean counted to ten. Then again. Nope, he wasn’t calm. Not this time. “Look,” he said, his anger heavily restrained. “This isn’t exactly what I was hopin’ to do, sweetheart. I was hoping to just come here, kill some monsters, and go on my merry way. Not play babysitter!”

“Well then, go ahead! Leave!” She flung a hand to the door, glaring at him. She stood there for long moments, waiting almost impatiently. “Well?!”

“Jesus Christ, you’re annoying! Look, I’m not leaving you here to get killed, Y/N!” He stormed up to her, almost nose to nose. God, he had problems all right if he found this ridiculously hot. “So suck it up, I’m crashing on your couch!”

Sparks were almost flying from her eyes, she was so damned pissed. She let out an angry grunt, spin on her heels and stalked into her bathroom. The door slammed behind her a moment later. He heard a yell of frustration after that and almost did the same himself.

“I’m grabbing stuff from my car! Don’t go anywhere!” he yelled out to the bathroom. He heard something that was undoubtedly profanities. He grinned. “Definitely my kind of girl,” he said with a chuckle, and headed out the doorway.

He popped the trunk, and then the hidden floor for what he’d need. Machete, his gun and— He never finished that thought as something hard smashed his head into the trunk and flung him to the ground. Dazed, he could barely focus as he saw something head into Y/N’s apartment. “No…” he groaned, unable to get up. His head was spinning too hard.

Barely seconds later, he heard something smash inside followed by a scream, this time full of fear. He heard his name. It was Y/N. She was screaming for him. “Come on… get up…” He struggled, rolled over, and nearly fell flat on his face. Just as he was pushing his way up, trying to control the sudden nausea that came from his head injury, a booted pair of feet came into his line of sight.

That was the last thing he saw before his face was kicked in.

Dean wasn’t proud of himself. He tracked down Mr. Smith, all but beat the shit out of him to find out his link to the vampire. Turned out it was some obscene, whacky slumlord scheme, all to get him money while the vampire feasts like a king. How it was never revealed before, Dean had no idea—and didn’t give a damn. He had to find Y/N.

John might object to how Dean handled it, but, well, his father wasn’t there. Sam would be too tender-hearted, maybe. Dean would do it again, if he had to. He failed Y/N, after all. Let the damned vampire get up behind him and knock him silly. It was damned embarrassing. John would probably lecture him on letting his guard down.

He probably wouldn’t tell his father, nope. Not up to proving his father he was a disappointment… again.

Regardless, he found out where the vampire was taking Y/N. The vamp took her and his other victims to some abandoned farm silo west of West Lafayette in some middle of bum-fucking-nowhere Indiana. Some little dinky town called Oxford.

He navigated down the streets, mindful of the unlit streets. “God, did these people never hear of street lights?” he grumbled, not wanting to wreck Baby on some goddamned pothole he didn’t see. Eventually asphalt gave way to gravel to dirt. He just about had a nightmare over the sheer cleaning he’d have to do of the Impala after all this was done.

When he finally saw the silo, he cut the engine and coasted a few more feet. He didn’t want to risk the vampire knowing he was there. As it was, he was sincerely and truly hoping Y/N was still alive. She was tough, she had fire, but the vampire had paranormal strength.

God, he’d love to ask her out after this. Given his luck though, she’d probably ask him to go the hell away and never bother her again.

He crept up to the silo, machete in hand, his gun in the back of his jeans. As he got closer, he started to hear voices, screaming. One of them was definitely feminine, afraid, in pain. Y/N. His heartbeat picked up as he hurried, heedless of any noise he was making.

A faint mist clung to the ground, swirling around the boots of the lone, young hunter. His knuckles were white, his breathing measured but tense, as he entered the silo. It was so dark, the moonlight barely illuminating the intricate interior.

Across from him, the vampire emerged from the shadows, its pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Blood-red eyes pierce through the gloom, and a cruel smile spreads across its face.

“You came all this way, just to die?” the vampire hissed, its voice a low, mocking growl.

“One of us is dyin’ tonight,” Dean replied, tightening his grip on the machete. “And it ain’t me."

The vampire darted forward, a blur of movement too fast for the human eye. The young man anticipated the attack, swinging the machete in a wide arc. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing the vampire’s neck as it twisted to the side with inhuman grace.

“You’ll need to be faster than that,” the vampire taunted, its voice now behind him.

Dean spun, slashing upward. The machete grazed the vampire’s arm, drawing a thin line of dark blood. The creature snarled, its fangs glinting like daggers.

The vampire lunged, its fingers aimed for Dean’s throat. He ducked just in time, rolling to the side.

“You're surprisingly quick,” the vampire admitted, circling its prey. “But you’re tiring. I can hear your heartbeat slowing. Smell the sweat of your fear.”

Dean didn’t reply, his chest heaving as he strategized. He knew he had only one chance—one clean strike.

The vampire leaped again, this time coming from above. Dean raised the machete, catching the monster mid-jump. The blade bit deep into its side, sending it crashing to the ground with an unearthly scream.

But it’s not enough.

The vampire rose, the wound knitting itself together before Dean’s eyes. It smirked. “That all you got?”

Desperation fueled Dean’s next move. He feinted left, then swung hard to the right, aiming for the neck. The vampire, too confident, didn’t anticipate the feint. The machete connected with sickening force, burying itself deep in the creature’s throat.

For a moment, silence reigns. The vampire stumbled, its hands clawing at the blade embedded in its neck. Dark blood poured from the wound.

Dean didn’t hesitate. With a roar, he yanked the machete free and swung again, severing the vampire’s head in a single, brutal stroke.

The headless body collapsed, twitching once before going still. The head rolled to a stop, its crimson eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

Dean wiped the sweat and blood from his face, looking down at the vampire’s remains. “Told you,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The fight was over, but the scars—both physical and mental—were just beginning to form.

He had no time to worry about that. He dropped the machete, ignoring it for now, and went in search of Y/N.

Dean found Y/N, freed her from the bindings. He also found the bodies of the missing people. He called 9-1-1 and reported the discovery before disappearing. He hated doing that to Y/N, but she needed the ambulance, the police, more than she needed him.

It would be hours later that he returned to her studio apartment. Her door was restored; good. He wouldn’t have to beat the landlord again, or try to do it himself. He saw her light on, so he knew she was home. Even so… he hesitated.

“Come on, man,” he whispered to himself. He knocked on her door and waited.

The outside light flickered on and he called up his best smile, unaware that it looked nervous and sickly more than confident. After a moment, Y/N cracked opened the door and peeked through the slit. “Dean…?”

“Hey. Uh. How’re you doing? Oh God,” he added in a whisper under his breath. He felt so fucking stupid. He saw her smile and he relaxed marginally. “Sorry for leavin’ you like that, but I had to. There’d be too many questions and—”

“Dean, shut up and come on in,” she said, stepping aside and opening the door. He hesitated, then stepped inside, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m glad you came back. I… wanted to thank you.”

“Uh, thank me? For what?”

She wrinkled her brow at him. “For saving my life,” she said, as though it should be obvious.

“I didn’t… but you got…” Great. Just great. His charm died with the vampire.

But she was smiling. “Thanks. I… really. Thank you.” Her smile fell, and out of the damned blue, she slapped him.

Dean’s head rocked to the side and he very nearly spun around. He caught himself, wiggled his jaw with his hand and stared at her. “What the hell?!”

“That was for abandoning me!” Then she grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him into a searingly hot kiss. Dean’s brain froze. Just… froze. His libido popped out of the box and wondered if it was finally going to be freed. Then she let him go, breathing a bit heavily. “And that was for saving me.”

“Um…” Come on brain. Come on. Work! “You’re… welcome.”

She smiled, a bit shy, a bit amused at his reaction. “You can go now, Dean.”

“Yeah. Sure….” Damn. College girls can kiss!

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28

(If you do not want to be tagged for this Supernatural fic, please let me know and I'll remove you in future postings! If you want to be added, please let me know and I will!)

Edited: Fixed some paragraphs I accidentally copy-pasted twice from my Word doc!

[antimonyandthyme]

what about love spell/curse/potion for carcar?

“It’s not that bad,” Oscar said.

“It’s obvious,” Lando said. “Even to me. Even to someone not looking for it. They’ll stop you from racing.”

Oscar’s cheeks were flushed, and it extended down his neck, down, down, down further where the fireproofs hid the rest of the evidence. And it wasn’t the good kind of flush either, like the after race glow or the lively splash of sun kissed. The stain was uncomfortably pinpricked and splotchy, and Oscar looked like he was being eaten alive by fire ants, with the way he kept clawing at his skin and adding red on red.

“It’s an easy solution,” Lando said, because yeah, they were teammates who needed to tear each other apart most times, but Oscar was. A good one. A friend, even. Plus, they needed the points. “I’ll get Carlos here.”

“No,” Oscar snapped, so vehemently that Lando considered throwing his hands up and leaving Oscar to his own martyrdom. But again—points. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

“Mate,” Lando rolled his eyes. “I thought you’ve gotten over your dislike of that guy.”

He felt a twinge of furtiveness when he said it, that guy. Had to look around the room to ascertain that Carlos hadn’t heard it. As if Carlos could ever be reduced to some background person in their periphery. But he was trying to be helpful, while Oscar seemed content to endure torture for the sake of being stubborn. Come on, Oscar. He’s just some guy. He’s just some guy, right? Fuck him and get it out of your system.

“I don’t,” Oscar said, then locked his teeth together shut so tightly Lando heard the click. His jaw shifted askew from the top half of his face, then back so carefully all Lando could think of were moving mouths on wooden marionettes.

It was a familiar habit, but not on Oscar. It took Lando awhile to place it.

“Don’t what,” Lando asked, already knowing the answer and catastrophically afraid of it.

“Landito,” Carlos announced, flinging open the door to the motorhome. “What’s the emergency, hm?”

What escaped from Oscar’s mouth could only be described as a whimper. Aw, fuck. Lando had. Yeah. He’d already texted Carlos. The second after Oscar had said No.

Lando glanced over guiltily. Oscar’s legs were making a gigantic effort to push himself backward into the couch, as far from Carlos as he could be, but the rest of his body was focused solely on being honest. His cheeks, pinker than what Lando had thought possible. The sweat beading on his forehead, sliding in an unmistakable path down his nose. The obvious stretch of the fabric at his crotch, which he was trying fruitlessly to hide with his hands. He’d be glaring at Lando, if he could, for doing this. But everything else in the room was now wiped clean of existence now that Carlos was here. Oscar stared, like Carlos was all there was and could be.

“Ah.” Carlos's eyes darted between Lando and Oscar. “Is this?” Carlos cleared his throat. “What is this,” he said quietly, sounding a little kicked, like he’d been left out of a briefing.

“Love spell,” Oscar blurted out, the same time Lando’s tongue formed around the word curse. “Some fan. Threw it at me.”

“Are you in love with her now?” Carlos said sharply.

“No!”

Lando cringed. It was likely he was feeling embarrassed for Oscar, if the phantom itch under his skin was anything to go by. Oscar looked as if Carlos had just slapped him, something so horribly open Lando didn’t even realize it was available in Oscar’s vocabulary.

“You really are a muppet,” Lando said. He couldn’t decipher if he was being cruel or kind, and he wasn’t going to think any further on it. “He’s in love with you, duh. Can’t you see?”

Oscar found the willpower to glare at Lando then, but when Carlos sucked in a small, shocked breath, Oscar’s eyes were back on him. Caressing, imploring.

“It’s just the curse,” Lando continued on blithely. So, he’d decided on cruel. “The fan must have messed it up, redirected it. That’s what’s making you feel this way, right Oscar?”

It wasn’t fair watching the myriad of shifts and breaks that rose to the surface of Oscar’s expression, but Lando was nothing if not committed.

“Right?” he said again, encouraging, all teeth.

“Right,” Oscar said, like it had to be peeled from his throat, then presented bloodied and raw. “Just. The love spell.”

Two years of being teammates, and Lando thought—hoped, that Carlos had lost the power to surprise him.

“Okay,” Carlos said. No disgust or revulsion. Just gentleness. He was everything his father said he was, and it didn’t do anyone any good. “So you need my help, no?”

Oscar couldn’t keep the starving noise clamped behind his lips. He was shaking now, at Carlos’s proximity, at the promise of something he didn’t even know he wanted to have until this instant. His entire body curled toward Carlos like a vine straining for the light.  

"I need," was all Oscar managed, and something in Lando ached terribly. For what, for what.

Carlos made his way closer, crouched down by Oscar’s feet like he was the one asking, begging, for it.

“Easy,” he said, hand cupped around Oscar’s burning cheek, and Oscar folded like a man with no cards left, nothing left, and said please, please, please Carlos, please.

“Ah, Lando,” Carlos said. As if he’d just remembered Lando was there. Lando himself had almost forgotten, so far removed from the scene unfolding before him he was. “Some privacy?”

Fucking love spells. He closed the door behind him, a little too hard, a little too late to stop the soft sound of skin meeting skin from reaching his ears.

(put that guy in a situation prompts)

[chaotixcnt]

character(s): shadow the hedgehog

rating: explicit

warnings: gunplay kink, no blood or injuries involved though

premise: shadow and you decide to experiment in bed a bit… with a gun? well, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

his breath was hot against your neck, those unusually sharp canines scraping against the delicate fur around your jugular. he was crowding over your body with an expression that you couldn’t read it.

click.

click.

a trigger flipped and metal bullets were carelessly discarded onto the floor as he emptied out his gun in front of you. his foot kicking away the ammo as it rolled off to god knows where— likely under your tattered couch but you’d have to worry about digging them out later.

“do you trust me?”, he asked, cautious as he lifted his gaze, his gun that he normally reserved for missions clenched in one hand, his finger stroking the trigger button. “it’s unloaded”, he added, eyes narrowing.

you sucked in a breath, eyes drifting from his face to the gun in his hand. this was certainly… new; unexpected. your lover rarely maimed you in bed (although perhaps maimed was a strong word— it was more-so just biting and scratching) but here he was brandishing his gun next to your thigh.

“i— sure,” the agreement spilled from your lips as you felt the gun shuffle between your legs.

shadow breathed out a sigh of relief as he leaning in closer once more, nuzzling against your neck as he pressed the muzzle of the gun against your clothed pussy. the cold metal a stark contrast against the warm heat between your legs.

“it’s not so bad.” he mumbled under his breath and whether he was speaking to himself or you, you hadn’t the faintest clue.

slowly, as if testing the waters, he dipped the gun lower, dragging the barrel against your clothed clit.

“ah-!”, a surprised squeak fell from you, your hands moving to grip his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. the sensation was foreign but undeniably irresistible as you felt the thick barrel against your heat. the front sights of the gun would nudge against your aching swollen clit when he dipped the weapon between your thighs.

it was good.

he rolled the barrel of the gun back and forth, forcing it to slide up and down against your cunt— letting you practically ride the weapon in his hand. the panties you were wearing doing little to mask the sensation you felt.

above you, he was practically panting, his sharp gaze focused only on the action between your legs and the rhythmic thrust of his gun.

back

and

forth

at some point, you had started to grind down against it. that sweet warm heat pooling in your abdomen as the muzzle of the gun nudged against your core. the cold sensation against your clit causing your thighs to quiver.

those red eyes flickered up to your face, studying it for a moment because he knew— of course he knew you were close, he knew everything about your body. he commanded it.

you bit your lip, stifling the needy whines bubbling in your throat, trying to hold it in because making a mess of your underwear and his gun was embarrassing even if he approved of it.

but, shadow spoke up as if he had read your mind, “no, it’s fine”, he said, his gaze never leaving the heated sight of that pistol thrusting between your thighs this time. his finger idly pressing against the trigger as he let you take the lead — just watching as you desperately sought pleasure on the barrel of his weapon.

it was unloaded so no rounds would be fired even if he pressed against the trigger enough to set it off but something about the thrill — the danger — had you whimpering in pleasure.

it wasn’t long before you met your end, reaching your high as he kept the gun still against your cunt. not saying a word as you slowed the roll of your hips with a pleased sigh and your thighs squeezed against either side of the weapon, holding it against your pussy as you finished riding that wave of relief.

when the spark died down, you could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead and a sting against your neck (when had he bitten you? you hadn’t even noticed) as shadow pulled away, releasing his hold on you.

“okay- okay— you were right”, you panted out, still struggling to catch your breath. “that was, good.. really good.”

he flashed you a knowing and almost smug expression as he responded with, “i knew it would be.”