#and he gets more of a distinct form as he manipulates him and more and more ppl get squipped

[cubezart]

everyone seems to really like my squip so i drew a lil more

[livelaughlovesubs]

Omg omg for the prompt thing making Fyodor and/or Sukuna beg and kneel pls 🙏

KEKEKEKEKE YES YES YES one fedya and one sukuna right away! (Edit: I really like how fedya’s turned out?)

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor/ sub!sukuna (separate)

Warning: begging & kneeling (both) ~light size kink, monster fucker (sukuna’s true form hehe), marking, biting, nipple play, groping, teasing~ (sukuna)

Anniversary event

Fyodor

“What a pleasant surprise, the demon Dostoyevsky is looking for my humble self?” You sat back and got into a comfortable position, voice dripping with fake politeness as you sneakily eyed him up and down. It was well-known that he’s a dangerous individual, you had to be careful. “Oh please, no need to use such flattering words. I’m here to ask for a favour after all.” Fyodor smiled gently, if you didn’t know better you’d think he was a kind and innocent man.

“A favour? I’m not sure I have anything worthy of your standard.” How you wished he’d just leave and never come back, you didn’t like this pressure one bit. “You are too modest, y/n. I’m aware of how knowledgeable you actually are.” He commented. On the surface it looked like a compliment, yet you understood the implications behind it. “Is that so? Because I’m not sure what you are talking about.” You continued playing the naive card, it was the safest bet for now.

The male chuckled, his posture was straight as he stared right into your eyes, maintaining eye contact. “Then, I’ll get straight to the point,” he said, his tone shifting from a distinct softness to a rather serious one. “I want information about the book.” You knew about his ambitions, and his goals, which is why you knew what he wanted from you. As such, his request didn’t come off as a surprise, and it didn’t show on your face neither. But fyodor already took that into account, he knew it as well.

Someone with infinit information and someone smart enough to predict the future, what a match.

You had to think carefully, even if you weren’t as intelligent as this genius in front of you, you had an advantage. Because it’s him who’s asking for a favour. “What will I gain out of telling you?” For a split second, his dead eyes lit up, as if you peaked his curiosity. “A future rid of sinners, mankind in its most glorious form. One where order and harmony spreads across the world.” What grand endeavours he had, but it didn’t concern you in the slightest.

“How do I put it, your offer isn’t enticing enough.” You thought you had won, keeping a collected face to mask your small victory. Though it seems it wasn’t over yet, since his next words send a chill down your spine. “I expected so, that’s why that’s not everything.” He then got up from his seat, getting dangerously close to you. His eyes bore a determined and prideful look, one that pierced your soul, that made him seem all knowing.

“You aren’t the only one who did a background check.” Fyodor sneered, now standing right in front of you, staring down at you with those violet eyes. “I wonder if you’ll still refuse me if I do this?” Somehow, you had a bad feeling about this, your stomach curled as you hesitated. Each movement seemed so difficult due to the pressure, it was suffocating. You knew he was great at manipulation, at using others, especially their desires, and he understood human emotions so well it was terrifying.

Since you knew all of that, you were prepared, no?

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

He dropped onto his knees, the gaze in his eyes shifted, though still prideful, it was more.. docile now. As gracefully as ever, he placed his hands on his lap, staring up at you with the same tender expression as before. Meek smile and big, carefully planned puppy eyes, though you knew it was an act, it stirred emotions you didn’t want to feel. It made your heart soft.

If you were still resolute, hanging onto your willpower, then you were gone after the next sentence from the male. Fyodor did his homework very throughly. That sickly sweet and addicting voice, laced with a hint of need, whispering in a tone that made your insides tingle, “please fulfil my little request, I’d do anything for it. I… beg of you? Moya lyubov?” A faint blush crept up his pale cheeks, adding even more flavour to the already fantasy-like show laid out before you. Now, you couldn’t help but grin all sadistic, for you have fallen into the temptation of the devil itself.

Sukuna

Oh how he treasured you, it was beyond the grasp of his other supporters.

With how things stand, you were his only weakness, and they couldn’t let that be. Yet, their lord, the king of curses, was too smitten with you to care. All they wanted was a reason, an answer to their question: why?

It goes all the way back to when he was like any other human. Not with four arms, and four eyes, not even when he was the strongest sorcerer. No, back in time where he was simply human. From that point onwards, you’ve always accompanied him, stayed by his side and cheered him on. It was only a matter of time until he’d eventually become soft with you. And now, even after his body mutated into his current state, you stayed by his side with the same conviction like decades ago.

But due to him being used to killing, and him just being so much stronger than you, a part of him was afraid of crushing your delicate body into pieces. That’s why he refused to touch you until he was sure he had full control over his strength. What if a simple hug ended with you dying in his arms? He couldn’t let that happen now could he.

Even so that didn’t hold you back, rather, you were amused by his dedication. At times it was annoying how he saw you as a frail porcelain doll, though you were mostly enjoying this peculiar circumstance. Especially when you are sitting behind his massive form, kissing his neck and leaving hickeys while your hands trail around his body, exploring every single inch. And he couldn’t stop you at all.

You pulled back to admire your own work, then made yourself bigger and leaned over his shoulder, “you don’t mind if I continue, right?” He didn’t answer you, only giving you a half-assed glare as he stayed put. You took it as a yes, since, if he didn’t want to, he could always just standup and leave. That’s why your eager hands wandered to his full breasts, cupping them with your palm as you smirked perversely. Wasn’t it just so much fun? Doing whatever you wanted to the strongest men alive?

After squeezing them to your hearts content, you used your fingertips to circle around his pink nipples. He had such a tough body, and high pain resistance, so it’s the gentle touches that make him lose his mind. “…really? You like my chest that much?” Sukuna sighed, despite how much he’d complain, he never objected to your antics. “Yep, they are awesome.” You answered almost immediately, he was almost impressed by how shameless you were.

“Huh, I don’t get the appeal.” He said, though he liked having your attention on him. “I just like feeling you up with my hands.” You admitted, and, as if to prove your point, slid one hand down to his mouth-tummy. “Mhm..” The male coughed, acting as if he was clearing his throat. Seeing as you finally drew a reaction out of him, you began to fondle his body again. One hand stayed around his pecs, rubbing his hardened bud, the other one jumping from one place to another. As of now, you were using it to grope his inner thighs.

“Hmmm- haaah, y/n, you really are something.” He panted, closing his eyes, immersing himself in the sensations you gifted him. “No need to hold back, we are by ourselves.” You whispered, before going back to sucking and biting his shoulder blades. Even though that’s what you said, he didn’t need your words, until you began tugging on his sensitive nipple. “Nghh, ah… damn it.” When he realised what noise just slipped from his lips, he cursed under his breath, an almost invisible blush covering his cheeks and shoulders. It was the most noticeable around his ears.

When you glanced over his shoulder again, you noticed the growing bulge in his pants. Now you really couldn’t hide your grinning anymore, stopping whatever you were doing with your hands and instead hugging him from behind. He didn’t object at first, but got annoyed after a while, taunting you, “..aren’t you going to continue? What, suddenly feeling embarrassed?” To which you replied, “it seems like you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, so, of course, I stopped.” Liar, that’s what you say whenever you want something from him.

“And how can I prove you otherwise?” Sukuna feigned a groan, though you saw how the corners of his mouth twitched. “Get on your knees and beg, then I’ll believe you ♡.”

You must be the luckiest human on earth, for surviving after asking him to do something like that, and that he’s into this power tipping thing as long as he gets to do it with you. So, without much delay, he popped down from the bed and smiled confidently, as he basically demanded, “touch me more,,, please?”

“…”

you had to teach him how to really beg

[ambrosiagourmet]

Did Laios have a plan

... when he made his deal with the Lion? How much of it was intentional and how much of it was out of his control?

Well. If I'm being honest I don't really want to try and provide a definitive answer to that question, because I think the ambiguity is, itself, part of the story. I've gone back and forth a few times myself, and I don't think either category - "fully intentional" or "fully coincidence" - is entirely true.

That being said, I would like to point out a few things that I've seen taken for granted as true. Things that, imo, are much more about the character's perspective, or about what the character WANTS people to think (well, that's really just the Winged Lion).

Consider this not exactly an argument for "Laios masterminded everything from the start and saved the world with his cunning," but more... "Laios considered what he was doing more than people give him credit for." Make sense?

Alright then, let's go:

So to start with, I want to show every time (that I could find, at least) that the question of 'does Laios have a plan' gets brought up. This is specifically after his Ultimate Monster Form is revealed, to be clear - the question isn't about if he has a plan in general, it is if he has/had a plan when he made this specific deal with the Lion.

Here they are:

-

-

You'll notice, in all of these instances, there never really is an answer given to the question. Either because there is no way to get one, or, with Kabru at the end there, because he explicitly doesn't let Laios answer. There's even a bit of an arc here: we start with a sort of desperate 'I've mostly given up but maybe this isn't as bad as it looks,' then get a more optimistic 'maybe we really are saved,' and finally end on 'it all worked out in the end, so we maybe don't need to know.'

But, as much as there is some genuine growth in Kabru's 'accept the outcome, rather than dissecting the truth,' I also think it says a lot more about him than about Laios. Kabru is the one trying to handle his questions and his uncertainty - as he said, he wants to confirm his judgement of character. He wants to feel like he had control over things.

And he lets that go! But he also doesn't actually get the truth, either, and his implied assumption here (that Laios, the wide-eyed monster-lover, probably just followed his desires), still relies on his judgements and assumptions about Laios.

But okay, these bits are all focused on the characters theorizing about Laios. How about we look at the character who actually tells us the facts ("facts"): the Winged Lion.

The Winged Lion has quite a bit to say about Laios and his monster form.

He says that Laios hates humanity, and would rather be a monster

I've talked about this a bit already, but the Lion makes a lot of claims and assumptions about Laios that aren't necessarily true.

First of all, let's just make sure we clearly establish that the Lion is being manipulative here. That may seem obvious, but it's important to understand that there is a difference between 'the truth' and 'a version of the truth specifically framed to prey upon your deepest shame and insecurities about what you really want.'

To point out a few quick-and-dirty contradictions here:

If Laios really hated all other humans, then the Lion wouldn't hinge so many of his other arguments on Laios' love for Falin and his friends.

the Lion claims that Laios "[doesn't] even care enough about the future of [the] world to express an opinion about it," even though Laios has literally expressed opinions on what he wants for the world, to the Lion's face.

In general, the Lion does not make a distinction between urges and choices (see, for instance: him using Marcille's subconscious fear of the canaries as a way to keep her from stopping the monsters from attacking in chapter 86).

I'm not saying there is not a piece of truth here, but also... we are not our darkest thoughts, and we especially are not those thoughts as defined by someone who wants to hurt and control us.

But let’s move on to the stuff the Lion claims about Laios once he has been turned into his monster form.

2. He says that (or rather, acts like) Laios is under his control

The Lion really enjoys grandstanding about how Monster Laios is an ultimate tool he has control over. He gloats about making Laios fight the others, and has him smash through the magical barrier.

But smashing the barrier is kinda the only thing that Monster Laios actually does for the Lion. He doesn't attack anyone. He doesn't hurt his friends, despite Chilchuck thinking that Laios has "turned completely into a monster." And he certainly doesn't simply let the Lion go through with his plan to eat everyone.

This barrier smashing is actually an interesting and odd thing for Laios to have done specifically, so remember that one. I'll come back to it later.

But, yeah, to the original point... despite the Lion's dramatics, all that Monster Laios does is pose, smash up a magic barrier, and then eat him. Not exactly under his control.

AND SPEAKING OF EATING THE DEMON...

3. He frames Laios attacking and eating him as thoughtlessly violent

This one is pretty funny to me, and the Lion keeps it up for the whole scene. I'm not sure how much of this is his genuine understanding of the situation, and how much is him intentionally framing things in the most insulting manner, but like... truly. The ego involved in this. To see someone who has, multiple times, tried to stand against you - someone who has literally wished for your non-existence, to your face - to see this person attack you, specifically, and have your first reaction be 'huh, I guess he's a reckless weirdo to the core???'

Incredible stuff.

And this part, too:

He claims that Laios can't recognize anyone, that he's out of control. And yet, the Lion is the only person that gets eaten here. He is Laios' singular target.

Hell, Laios even specifically attacks one of the bodies that is actively hurting Chilchuck. I don't know if that was entirely intentional on Laios' part, but I do think it's notable.

The Lion torments Laios' friend, and when Laios does something that interrupts that action, the Lion reframes it as unhinged violence. I don't know, there's something here about the way that cruel people only talk about the things people do to resist them as violent, and ignore the violence that causes such resistance in the first place.

In any case, the main point is that the Lion insists on treating Laios like an unthinking animal during this fight, despite the fact that Laios is clearly trying to accomplish something here.

And what exactly is Laios trying to accomplish? Well, the Lion isn't entirely wrong. Laios is trying to eat something. He tells us as much.

And truly, everything Laios does as a monster points to this. He had a goal. And he accomplished it.

Let me back up a moment. I need to explain smashing the barrier.

So, Laios first starts considering how to kill the Lion when he is confronted with the fact that his only other choice would be to kill Marcille. Immediately and entirely discarding that solution, because of course he does, he tries to wrap his head around what defeating the Lion would even look like.

He clearly continues thinking about this, as a nearly identical conversation happens a few chapters later, when Laios is once again told that killing Marcille is the only way forward.

Only, this time, he's started to come up with an idea for how to do this impossible thing.

Harkening all the way back to the Living Armor chapter, Laios draws on the same lesson - if the Lion has made itself part of the world, if it has made itself into something alive, that means he can kill it. And eat it.

But there's an important extra detail to this. If he's going to try and kill (and eat) the Lion, he needs to strike when it’s vulnerable. He needs to strike when it's eating.

This is why he smashes through the barrier. Again, nothing else he does as a monster really benefits the Lion. He doesn't attack anyone else. The only command he obeys is to smash the barrier. Because the Lion has to think he has won for Laios to be able to eat him.

Beat him. For Laios to be able to beat him.

The question of why Monster Laios wanted to eat the Lion is, I think, the most ambiguous part. Was he curious? Hungry? Did he fight for his own life, for his friends, or for all of humanity? Did he know how to win because he had planned everything from the start, or because he was driven by an unquenchable instinct to do whatever it took to survive?

I don't know that it is possible to say for sure. But I do know that the Lion underestimates Laios, through it all. He underestimates Laios as a human, and he underestimates Laios as a monster.

And in the end, after he is bested, even then I don't think the Lion ever gets Laios. I don't think he understands how much Laios means his words about the Lion being burdened by hunger...

or what Laios cares about most...

or what meaning there is in life, for him.

So I don't buy what the Lion is selling about Laios, generally speaking. I don't buy that Laios didn't ever know what he was doing, and I don't buy that he was nothing more than a hungry beast.

Well. I mean. He was a hungry beast. But he was a more than that too. He was the Devourer of All Things Horrible. And he didn't just happen into that title by chance.

[emo-batboy]

Okay what is this I keep hearing about Harvery Dent and Bruce Wayne being caught kissing???? Storytime?

Okay so this is probably a much longer winded story than I’m sure you expected but here’s my whole explanation of Harvey/Two-Face in the Battinson universe:

I always like to imagine that there is a distinct difference between Harvey and Two-Face. In this world, Harvey is regarded as an accomplished man suffering from DID who is forced to live in Arkham to keep his second personality, Two-Face, behind bars. Meanwhile, Two-Face is a notorious crime boss and master manipulator. They share the same body, yes, and it almost impossible to tell them apart sometimes, yes, but Bruce is the only person that can reliably tell who is in control.

You see, over the years, Two-Face has become an expert at pretending to be Harvey, so much so that the guards at Arkham just refer to them as Dent now. There have been several incidents where doctors believed Harvey was somehow cured of his DID and they gave him more privileges due to “good behavior,” only for Two-Face to bash a prison guard’s skull in while trying to escape.

But the one person he can’t fool is Bruce, the man who knows Harvey so intimately that he can examine his facial features down to the micro expression.

They thought they would get married one day, Bruce and Harvey. It was sickeningly sweet. They were so madly in love. Then the accident worsened Harvey’s condition. Bruce will never forgive Two-Face for taking his true love away from him.

Bruce visits Arkham once a week to see Harvey. Only the guards know about their past relationship because the two can’t stop giving one another heart eyes while they play chess and tell each other about their day. They’ll talk for hours, and it’s no secret that a pretty, Bambi-eyed, lovestruck Brucie Wayne will pay off any guard to see his “friend” for another fifteen minutes or so.

But sometimes, Bruce walks into the room, sees Dent’s face, and immediately storms out. Because it’s Two-Face. Posing as his former lover, wearing his lips and cheeks and nose, but the eyes are just wrong, all wrong, and he’s giving Bruce a smile that isn’t even close to Harvey’s gorgeous smile. And it’s sick. The guards can’t tell, the other patients prisoners can’t tell, no one else can tell but oh, Bruce can fucking tell.

On other days, Bruce will be talking with Harvey one second, only to stop mid-sentence, scowl at him, and say, “Give him back. I’m not talking to you.”

Two-Face breaks into a grin. “I can never pull one over on you, can I, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up. Where is he?”

“He says he loves you, and you look very nice.”

Bruce has been held back by the guards several times for this very reason. He blames himself that they can’t hold hands during visits anymore. Instead, they talk through that stupid fucking glass, but at least they get a private room. The guards now know that even if pretty Brucie Wayne looks sweet and delicate when talking to Harvey, he can also throw a decent punch.

On good weeks, it’ll be nothing but soft words and smiles.

“I finally bought those chocolates you recommended,” Bruce says.

Harvey smiles. “Did you like them?”

“I did. Thank you.”

On bad weeks, Bruce will leave with hot tears streaming down his face, and the guards will treat Two-Face just a little harsher than necessary as they escort him back to his cell.

Sometimes, it’s a mix of both. Even rarer are the days when Harvey comes back right before Bruce leaves to say goodbye to his angel. Those moments are the most tender because they all know Harvey has trouble taking control back. But he did it for Bruce, just to make him smile again before they parted ways.

One day, however, a guard thinks he can flirt with Bruce. He makes a move when no one’s looking and receives an answer in the form of a black eye. Only a day later, he gets maimed by Dent and lands in the hospital. Bruce learns about it during his next visit.

“Your boyfriend’s other half tried to kill that guard last week,” another guard tells him.

“The one that grabbed my ass?”

“Two-Face put him in a coma.”

Bruce chuckles and picks at a loose thread from his dress shirt. “What you makes you so sure it was Two-Face?”

No guard tries making a move on Arkham’s favorite visitor again. And the star-crossed lovers keep seeing one another and confessing their undying love. Even after they accept their fate. Even when Bruce tells Harvey about Selina and how he’s slowly falling in love with her too. But something is holding him back.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Bruce whispers.

“I don’t either,” Harvey says, tracing his love’s hand through the bulletproof glass, “but I want you to be happy.”

“But I’m happy with you.” Bruce was always a crybaby, but he hates crying in here the most.

“You can be happy with me in here. But I can’t bear to be the reason you’re not happy out there.”

After a bit more convincing, Bruce finally agrees. Before beginning a new relationship, he tells Selina about him and Harvey, tells her that it’s non-negotiable, and she accepts it.

The next time Dent breaks out of Arkham, Selina gets a visitor. “Break his heart, and I’ll drown you in the pier,” he says.

Selina smiles as her hoard of cats purr against the stranger. Maybe they can tell just like Bruce can. Or maybe this is Two-Face doing Harvey a favor. Either way, she doesn’t particularly care.

Selina gives him a once-over and nods. “Likewise.”

Anyway, yes, that is my BruHarvey lore. Hope you enjoyed :)

@bruciemilf this is right up your alley, bestie

[pearikp]

It's said that the only way to access Mhin's red choice is by choosing the Alchemist background, and that fact alone has me thinking about how the origin stories will actually impact the course of the game at full release. I wouldn't assume that you have to choose a certain origin to get a "good" or "bad" ending for a specific character, but (as stated by RSS directly) different origin stories will allow the main character to connect differently with each of the main five love interests.

Obviously, this isn't revolutionary, but I wanted to touch on which origins I think will be best suited for each route, based solely on scraps from the demo lol

For Kuras, I think the Alchemist and the Unnamed suit him the best. The former really comes from the fact that Ais' relationship chart suggests Kuras likes to ramble about alchemy, and because it has a lot to do with his role as a doctor, I would assume it opens up a lot of opportunities for him to connect with the Alchemist MC. I am more convinced of the latter based on the actual content of the demo. If you played the Unnamed origin, you may remember when the MC states that something about Kuras "nags" at them, "like a half-formed memory". This small line can obviously allude to Kuras not being human (and the Unnamed MC can pick up on it because of their sensitivity to the supernatural), or it could also imply that maybe this background gives the MC and Kuras a deeper sort of association with one another. I also encourage you to consider the dynamic of an excommunicated oracle in love with an excommunicated divine eldritch being.

It shocks no one that the Alchemist is probably the best route for Leander, and I maybe want to say the Hound could possibly be a good option in the future. The Alchemist can pinpoint exactly what about Leander's magic abilities makes him powerful, and obviously, this mutual connection will probably allow for plenty of unique interactions in his route. Sit on the fact that the MC had been mentored (manipulated) by an ex-Senobium mage, only to fall right back into the hands of another (pseudo-Senobium-affiliated) mage with sketchy intentions and big secrets... hmmm interestinggg... As for the Hound, I realize (admittedly upon limited playthroughs with this origin), that the dialogue never really changes for Leander's scenes. However, he is still an enigmatic socialite running a cult-gang, so surely the Hound will have some unique thoughts on Leander in his route and may eventually be able to see through this "nice guy" facade that Vere is so insistent he's parading around with? Just a thought.

As for my thoughts on Vere, I somehow have many and none at the same time. The one I'm pretty certain about is the Alchemist because they have unique dialogue acknowledging that Vere's collar is enchanted. I think the Hound may also work with his route, but I'm only basing that on the unique dialogue after the first encounter with Vere, wondering how he managed to pickpocket them without a sign, tell, or slip-up. The Hound has good social intuition, which is at least somewhat useful in dealing with Vere and his contradictory personality.

Ais comes naturally to the Unnamed, having an abundance of unique lines towards him more than the other characters. Not only does the Unnamed MC feel uneasy and hear unnatural sounds leading up to the Seaspring, but they also are the only one out of the three origins who has a distinct connection to "groupminds". The main character also notes that his tattoo (relating to Ocudeus) almost looks like it's moving. Similarly to Kuras, I like to think of the dynamic between a runaway ex-oracle crossing paths with a demonic being with cult-like worshipers... I predict the Hound will also suit Ais' route, based on how extensive their unique dialogue of Ais' natural leadership skills is. This origin is also the only one that actually details why his "gang leader" status contradicting the lack of an actual gang is so strange. The Hound comes from a more directly rugged life, and Ais takes an interest in the MC being feisty and defiant, so I'd guess that'll come into play somehow.

Back to square one on this whole overexplained talking point, Mhin obviously has some special connection to the Alchemist (or vice versa), if it wasn't obvious by the fact that Mhin's only red choice in the demo so far is only available with the Alchemist background. I think the Alchemist's unique connection to the Senobium through their mentor may come up, as Mhin's bio page says that they like the Senobium. The bio page also says they enjoy conducting alchemical experiments, which will connect the two even more. Once again, I think the Hound will also suit Mhin's route, based on little evidence and mostly just because Mhin and the Hound have similar vibes.

All of that said, I want to reiterate that I'm not under the impression that one origin will give you better or worse endings than the others, but rather unique choices and extra details based on their strengths. Regardless of how well one origin pairs with a LI, I will still probably be playing through each route with my own biased favorite (the Unnamed, if you were curious (I know you were not)). At the end of the day, it allows us to replay the game over and over to see what special changes and choices are available, so that will be very exciting.

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> I decided to write this more like a casual narration, for the storytelling vibes. Also, I might have tried to pull a "going back and forth in time like I'm S.King", so not everything will be crystal clear from the get-go. Hope you enjoy and feel free to interact!!!

-> I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but the fem pov came more naturally to me, so I apologise if it takes away from the story for some of you.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Five Years by David Bowie

~ 1 ~

1979 Derry, Maine

A family of three moved to Derry, for the father's work. Maine has its fair share of factories and the average person here doesn't mind getting their hands dirty, if it means paying the bills.

You were twelve when your family settled in an amiable house in Witchham St.

You may be seventeen now and you may have embraced the Losers' Club almost like a parental figure... But that wasn't the case five years ago.

When you first moved to Derry, you were twelve.

It was that same year you attended the annual Derry Funfair -Pennywise's favorite time to wake up. How could it not be, with so many kids out after dark... The Derry Funfair. The perfect hunting ground for the entity. That fateful night, you saw him for the first time. You call IT a 'he' because in the form of a clown, IT feels like a 'he'.

The air at the funfair was thick with the smell of popcorn, sugar... and something faintly metallic. As you walked through the crowd, laughter rang out around you, along with the loud music coming from the speakers far above your head.

You spotted the Ferris Wheel turning slowly against the darkening sky, each of its blinking lights reflecting in the deepening puddles scattered along the path. The Carousel line was snaking on that very path. You always loved how the painted horses glistened under the soft glow of the carnival lights...

Fed up with a group of cocky twenty-somethings, you slipped away from the fair, eventually finding yourself by the bridge for a moment of peace. You liked the breeze and the faint smell of night-blooming flowers. You still do.

It was quiet, until you suddenly heard a distinct sort of giggling. You also spotted a single, shiny red balloon floating toward you, bobbing against the wind. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled. Chills ran down your arms. Instinct warned you that something was very wrong.

That night, in your rush to escape and flee back to the fair, you left your hairbow at the bridge.

Later, as you looked out the window of your father's car on the ride home, you looked back and saw him -an enormous figure in a dusty, faded clown suit, watching you, waving slowly at you. His face was ghostly pale, almost like porcelain, with eyes that gleamed a strange and unsettling shade of amber. Those eyes seemed knowing, as if they could peel back every thought and fear inside you. A painted smile stretched across his mouth, far too wide and framed by rows of teeth that looked far too many, like something out of a nightmare. Wisps of reddish-orange hair framed his face, stiff and wild. The ruffles around his neck were yellowed with age, their edges fraying.

The suit itself was old, streaked with grime. Large, oversized pom-poms lined the front in an even row. And yet, despite his faded, worn appearance, there was something disturbingly vibrant about him. It was as if he wasn't really standing but rather waiting -waiting for you to wave back at him.

Even from the safety of the car, a chill had crept through you, and somehow you knew that he was still watching long after the car had turned, his gaze following you all the way home.

That night, when you woke up thirsty from all the popcorn you'd had at the fair, you wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. There, neatly placed beside the sink, was your lost hairbow -the same one you'd bitterly cried over after realizing it was missing.

Two days later, you returned to the fair with your parents. You felt happy. You were carefree. You were stupid. You couldn't resist looking for the clown who had waved at you... You had a strange feeling that the balloon belonged to him... It was the shame shade as his painted lips. You also had another, even odder feeling that he had somehow been the one who returned your hair ribbon.

Eventually you found him. The clown waved again and this time, you waved back, even managing a smile. But when he extended an unnaturally long arm, gesturing you to come closer, you were smart enough to keep your distance. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his voice, soft and coaxing, whispered your name.

Strangely, your parents didn't seem to notice him, neither that day nor the first time you'd seen him...

It was July. You didn't see the clown again until early autumn, right around the time you started feeling nervous about your new school.

That summer, he haunted your dreams night after night. They'd start innocently enough, not like full blown nightmares -you'd find yourself back at the fair, wandering through empty stalls. The colors were brighter -somehow too bright- and the air too thick. Then, he would appear. A clown in the distance, his wide smile aimed straight at you. You'd try to move, to turn away, but somehow, your feet kept inching closer.

In those dreams, he told you his name -Pennywise-, his favorite color -red- and his favorite food -cotton candy-. You remember telling him that you knew he was lying, that he wasn't just any clown. After that, the dreams stopped.

1984 Derry, Maine

You think back to all that as you blankly stare at the pages of your math book, you think back to what belongs in the past, but your mind drifting off to five years ago is more than justified.

People in town are noticing things these days, though no one says it out loud. There are hushed conversations about kids going missing -George Denbrough included-, strange sightings near the sewers, and that eerie feeling you get walking through Derry alone.

The old-timers say things aren't right this time, that it feels different somehow. You overhear a few whispers that maybe this time, it's sticking around longer. And the worst part is that you know why. You know why even better than your younger friends do...

Since last autumn, you've gotten close to Bev Marsh. She sees you as the older sister she never had. Bill lives right across the street. You babysat him and his little brother, Georgie, over the summer. But since Georgie's death in the Fall, you and Bill have drifted apart. Stanley… well, he may or may not have a crush on you. You know him through Bill -he's a good kid. Eddie Kaspbrak, same way, also through Bill. Thank God he gets some fresh air with his friends -you've heard his mom isn't the easiest. Then there's Ben, your reading buddy from the library. Richie Tozier? You two got into a fight once, over which Led Zeppelin song is the best. And Hanlon, he nearly knocked you over with his bike the first time you met.

Another remarkable mention? Henry Bowers. He is a year younger than you. Sure, the guy's a bully, but oddly enough he and his friends never caused you any trouble. And I say 'oddly enough', in the same way Derry's misfortunes oddly enough never seem to touch you. The bad luck that hangs over this town, the accidents, the disappearances, even the craziness... it's as if you've been given an unspoken pass, a quiet immunity no one else seems to have. Even when trouble looms close, you remain untouched, like some silent pact with the shadows in this place.

However, it's not just the gossiping ladies at the grocery store, or the old wise granddads who enjoy sitting on their porches, that made your mind wander to the past with their words.

As of late, your dad started locking the doors at night without explanation and your mom seems anxious, checking the windows like she expects something -or someone- to be watching. They'd never talk about it, but you can tell they sense it too... The whole town feels off, like there's something lurking beneath the surface. Sometimes, you catch a flash of red in the distance or hear a faint giggle that seems to echo from nowhere. It happens often enough that it feels like more than coincidence.

You've started wondering if he's ever really gone at all.

Even your dreams are different now.

More vivid.

In them, you're back at that same funfair... but it feels hollow, like something out of a faded photo. Every creak of the Ferris Wheel, every rustle of the trees ...sounds wrong. Sometimes, you see him waiting by the bridge, his head tilted in that unnatural way. His smile is sharper and more dangerous, as if he's been waiting all this time, keeping a part of you trapped there. You always wake up shaking, heart pounding in your ears.

The worst part is that the closer you get to waking, the darker the dreams grow.

In last night's one, Pennywise had held his gloved hand out to you, as if inviting you closer. You had felt the weight of his gaze, pulling you in despite everything inside you screaming to run. You started to remember that he's taken kids before, that he leaves things behind as markers -ribbons, scraps, things no one else notices... And then had woken up gasping for air.

No matter how much you try to shake it off, the feeling lingers, leaving you wondering if he's still out there, watching you, just as he was five years ago.

For you, fear twisted into something almost exhilarating five years ago... thanks to all those fleeting moments of intimacy when he would whisper secrets, just for you. It was wrong and you know that, but there was a thrill in the danger he represented. You think about the stories the others tell, how they shudder at the thought of him -of IT- while your heart races at the memories of the laughter, of the games. It's a longing that gnaws at you, even as you wrestle with the dread of his return.

It was easier to just forget before, but now the thought of him returns like a shadow. As you flip the pages of your stupid math book, you wonder if he's standing outside your house right now, waiting for you to come back to him, just as you've secretly wished for him to do all these years. Because, it's true, there's a twisted part of you that misses him.

When the Losers share with you Bill's and Ben's theories about IT and how IT came to be, you can't help but recall how Penny would laugh, a sound that echoed like a melody in the chaos of your childhood, dancing on the edge of terror. His voice, with its playful cadence, would weave stories that made the mundane feel magical. You remember how you'd lean in, drawn by an irresistible urge, despite the way your heart raced and your instincts screamed to flee.

Even the memories of those long, shadowy nights away from the comfort of your bed, punctuated by the pulse of adrenaline, stir something within you -an inexplicable yearning for the connection you shared, however dark it was.

You close the book since there's no way you can concentrate on your homework now and instead, you settle on washing the dishes.

Despite everything, beneath that longing lies the heavy weight of guilt and sorrow. 'Penny' killed Georgie and that truth looms over every fond memory you have with him. This is the part you feel compelled to remind yourself: he's a killer, a predator.

To any onlooker, all they would see is a broken girl, haunted by a lost childhood and a shadowy figure that once made her feel alive and seen. You know better than anyone that the line between fear and fascination is a thin one, and that's a truth you'll have to grapple with...

...in the chapters to come.

masterpost☁️

Would you like to help a struggling uni student? Support me here-> PayPal link ❤️

You can always ask to be tagged :)

Tags; @satubby @sketchist-art

[fukcnoplease]

Things Always Go Wrong Pt3

Pt1 Pt2 Pt4 Pt5

Gotham was truly testing her abilities. Usually she could vibe check the building and be good but the vibes of Gotham were rancid everywhere she went. Every building and street had some varying level of unsafe and she could feel Danny slowing behind her. He wasn't going to stay on his feet for much longer. Thankfully there were plenty of alleys they could probably hide in and even though it was already midmorning the thick smog on the city made it look like the dawn had only just broken. The alleys were still dark and as soon as she paused at the back of the alley she felt Danny collapse into her. His breathing was ragged and he was slick with sweat. She tried vibrating her core at him and the response she got was uncoordinated and harsh. It was as if two things were trying to respond to her, attempting to drown each other out.

“Shit.” she said. Jazz would be mad for her language, you know, if she didn't kill her for killing her brother. 

“Found you, wretch.” A voice said and Dani shot up into a fighting stance. The entrance of the alley was blocked by five people, all dress head to toe in white and aiming several weapons at them. They were all men and significantly bigger than her. That would be fine in her ghost form but transforming in front of them was risky.

Danny groaned from the cold alley floor and Dani grimaced. She growled, inhumane and low, and punched her palm as she went ghost. Showing her transformation was a small price to pay to protect Danny and they probably had her, or Danny’s, ecto-signature if they had managed to follow them cross state lines so accurately. 

Their weapons hummed as they charged and Dani caught a glimpse of color above them. Praying she had seen right she took in a breath and shouted her words.

“I am the princess of the Infinite Realms. Any harm that comes to me is a direct attack on the entire dimension of the Infinite Realms and cause for a war between our worlds!” Internally she cringed at her words but she prayed they had the right effect. 

“Ha! Like you could fool us, you manipulative ecto-sum! You’re coming with us. If you're lucky you might even make it in one piece” The leader, she assumed as he was standing at the front of the group, said. She tensed in case her gamble went south and prepared for something to hit her. 

Thankfully she didn't feel anything and a yellow hero came crashing down on the agents with a ferocity she wasn't expecting. He used what she thought were escrima sticks but they were connected together with a long wire and looked modified. He downed the panicked agents in seconds and turned to Dani. Unconscious agents littered around him.

His sudden movements made her drop into a defensive stance and he froze. Gently putting away his weapons as he raised his hands to show he meant no harm.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying to help.” The man paused as he looked over the two disheveled siblings. The white haired girl was glaring at him but looked more wary than aggressive and the dark haired boy on the floor looked incredibly ill. “Would it be ok if I helped you? I can call some friends and we can get you to a safe space.”

Dani stared the man down. He could fight, and right now she wasn't confident she could take him. Not while protecting a very incapacitated Danny. He had a black bat symbol on his chest which was good but also bad. Good because Batman was a hero and helped those in need. Bad because Batman was famous for not liking metas and while she and Danny weren’t metas she doubted Batman would care enough to make the distinction. Hopefully if she played up the royalty bit she could get maybe some leeway.

“Ok, bumblebee, but I want you to promise you wont hurt me or my… ambassador,” Danny was going to be so mad when he woke up, “or I will bring the entire Infinite Realms down on this world.” She did her best to sound threatening and maybe using some energy to make herself scarier but she wouldn't admit it.

“Of course, your… highness?” Bumblebee asked. Dani frowned, she didn't like ‘your highness’ but she couldn't give her actual name…

“You can call me… Elle.” She felt her insides crumple up at how cringey that name felt and she was very glad Danny was out cold for this conversation. The bumblebee hero nodded and said something into what she assumed was an earpiece. After a few minutes of discussion he went quiet and began watching the roofs. Dani floated off the ground slightly, trying to see what he was looking for. She didn't notice the surprise that flitted across his face at her show of power or the silent black hero who landed gracefully beside Bumblebee. 

“Hey Black Bat. Can you help me gather these guys up? Batman should be en route but might take a minute to get here.” Bumblebee said. Dani whipped around to see the new hero, black bat apparently, silently working her way through the knocked out GIW.

“Batman is coming?” Dani asked, anxiety making her fidget with her hands. That wasn't good. She couldn't pretend to be a princess around him, he could practically smell lies, or fear, and maybe she could be the princess of the Infinite Realms but she wasn't officially! Not yet at least. And Danny definitely wasn't her ambassador. Shit, maybe if she played up with the sad little girl image? Batman was known to take pity on kids… or was that one of his allies. She should’ve listened in on the conversation the bumblebee had had earlier, maybe she would have had something to work with then.

Black bat and bumblebee worked together to tie up the GIW and leave them in an easily accessible spot for when the police came around. Black bat touched bumblebees bicep and he looked up to see the scary shadow of Batman looming over the alley. Dani notices him too and landed in front of Danny, spreading her arms to block him from Batman's view as he landed beside the other heroes.

“Report.” Was all he said as he looked over the scene. His gaze lingered on the unconscious boy and Dani had to resist growling at him, in case that ruined her case for receiving help. Bumblebee took a breath and nodded.

“I found these two as they were about to be attacked by a group of people,” he gestured to the tied up men in white, “it looked like meta trafficking and I stepped in. Elle,” he gave a smile to Dani who cringed internally, “gave the men fair warning about their attack being against royalty and at risk of ruining dimensional relations, they refused to back off.”

Batman responded with a noncommittal ‘hn’ and narrowed his eyes at Dani who prickled under the gaze.

“For the record,” Bumblebee added, a little hesitant, “I believe her.”

Batman nodded and took a step closer to Dani and this time she did growl. The man stopped and regarded her. She glared back. He wasnt coming near her or Danny. Not in his state.

“Would you like to come with us?” Was all batman said. Stern and quiet. Dani didn't move, she looked over Batman’s unmoving face and then back at the bumblebee and black bat. The bumblebee hero looked worried but more for Batman than Dani and the black bat seemed relaxed as she watched.

“Where are you going to take us?” Dani asked. Batman frowned slightly and Dani worried he would just try and grab them. 

“A place where we can keep you safe and confirm your royal status,” he said. Dani didn't really like the sound of that but she could feel Danny getting worse and she was running out of time to make a decision. When he chose that exact moment to let out a pained groan Dani almost smacked him. Batman’s frown deepened and Dani felt her throat bob.

“We might even be able to help your friend.” He offered.

“My ambassador,” She corrected, if she was gonna sell this she had to go all out, “And I don't want you to lay a hand on him.”

Batman gave her the slightest, stiffest nod she had ever seen and she relaxed. Batman nodded to the other heroes and black bat vanished, bumblebee paused before leaving himself. Dani felt her anxiety come back threefold at being left alone with the big bad bat but in a few seconds a fancy black bat shaped car skidded to a halt outside the alley. In the passenger seat was the familiar bumblebee, he grinned and waved at them. Batman stared at him in what Dani thought could be disapproval but said nothing. The doors to the suped up car popped open and bumblebee stepped out.

“You can get in the back seat. Do you need help with your ambassador?” He said as he stepped back into the alley. Dani shook her head and Batman made a grumbling sound.

“Signal.” he said. Bumblebee, signal apparently, shrugged and continued towards Dani until she stiffened.

“I just wanted them to have a familiar face so the journey wasn't too stressful. Black bat and Spoiler are covering me while I stick with them.” He said, smiling at Batman and then turning back to Dani. He moved to help her pick Danny up but she shook her head at him and he stepped back. Batman made another ‘hn’ sound before retreating to the driver seat of the car. 

Dani moved Danny around and picked him up by throwing him over her shoulder. He wasn't heavy but he was bigger than her and it made him difficult to carry. Signal, she preferred bumblebee, hovered around her but was careful not to touch Danny as she carried him to the car. They managed to get Danny securely in the back seat of the batcar and Dani slid in next to him. He looked worse. Maybe moving him wasn't the smartest idea but Dani didn't know what else to do. If the GIW had their ecto-signature there wasn't a safe place to hide. Maybe Batman would be able to protect them but it would only last so long. She pushed aside her fears and gripped Danny’s too warm hand. The scenery went passed too quickly for her to see and the drive was silent. She was starting to hate road trips.

~~

This is short but the next one is gonna be LONG I got distracted anyway I love that people are enjoying this, i like writing it :)

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Sauron’s future seductions

Ever since I’ve made the post about Sauron’s demonic facets in “Rings of Power” some ideas have been cooking in my mind.

It seems they are drawing inspiration from Asmodeus (demon of lust) for his character, and this is why we see him sexually seducing female characters (like it’s customary for this demon in particular); we saw this with Mirdania in Season 2; with him employing sexual tactics (flirting, touching, etc.) to manipulating her throughout the season; granting him entrance into Eregion, brewing discontent between the smiths and Celebrimbor (isolating him from the group).

Tolkien wrote that Sauron's lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-earth, and to destroy the Elves, and to compass if he might, the downfall of Númenor (“The Silmarillion”). This will be Season 3. We are also told that Sauron would still wear “a mask [he still could wear] so that if he wished he might deceive the eyes of Men, seeming to them wise and fair”. Halbrand won’t return, nor it would make sense because he was “repentant Mairon”, and that boat has sailed.

If “Rings of Power” keeps the Asmodeus inspiration (and I think it will, because it makes sense with Eru taking away his ability to create fair forms later on; he has thot around enough), this can mean we’ll see more seduction of female characters happening in the show. This has me wondering who the targets of his next seductions will be, and I have some predictions.

Among the Elves I think Galadriel will be the (obvious) target (especially if blood binding theory is correct) in Season 3. Introducing another character (like Mirdania) seems kind of pointless. They already share a connection, she’s the ring-bearer of one of the Three Elven rings he’ll try to get during the War of the Elves and Sauron, and there are details about their “situationship” that need to be revealed to the audience: namely the truth of his feelings for her.

But Sauron will also find the Nine Ring-bearers among Men. And in this plot, they might introduce new female characters, indeed. Because we saw him tempting male characters (Celebrimbor, King Durin, Prince Durin) with promises of power in Season 2, while the only female characters he interacted with (Mirdania and Galadriel) were “gifted” with some seduction tactics Asmodeus-style, for distinct reasons. Unless they kept the sexual seduction entirely focused on Galadriel (to disclose the truth of Sauron’s feelings for her), while the Nine Ring-bearers will be promises of power, in Season 3.

Unlike what the Peter Jackson makes you believe, the Nine ring-bearers weren’t all kings in the legendarium; some were, indeed kings, but others were warriors and sorcerers. Season 3 will also mark the end of Sauron’s “fair motives” in healing and rebuilding Middle-earth, for sure.

In Númenor, I predict Sauron will seduce Eärien, in Season 4. We know he’ll allow himself to get captured by Ar-Pharazôn, and be brought to Númenor as a prisoner (probably at Season 3 finale). “Rings of Power” is already building up this plot. He might seduce her to get out of prison and gain access to Ar-Pharazôn, and tempt him with power, and kick out the whole Fall of Númenor plot.

“Rings of Power” have already foreshadowed Eärien will most likely die during the Fall of Númenor (adding to the fact she’s a original character of the show, and not a part of Tolkien legendarium):

Season 5 will be the War of the Last Alliance, and Sauron will be his shadow self, probably appearing like something similar to the Necromancer (Sauron) in “The Hobbit” trilogy, and/or in full armor. I don’t think we’ll see Charlie’s face during the last season of “Rings of Power”, except if they do flashbacks), they’ll probably CGI him. No more seduction in this season, he’ll enter his “angel of death era”.

[romchat]

Fangs of Fortune (Ep. 25): Quick thoughts on the visuals

Pretty sure that last scene of Fangs of Fortune's Episode 25 made me feral and has not given me a moment of peace since I saw it (where's the fanfic, y'all???), but it did highlight for me something distinct about Director Guo Jingming's visual storytelling that isn't often discussed: his actor blocking.

Like in My Journey to You, Guo often uses how the actors are positioned in relation to the set and one another to reveal something about their characters, and he then shifts them like pieces on a chess board to signify changes in their mental state and/or relationships. This directing choice really gives his scenes a sense of movement and tension because the characters literally end up in different positions than where they started. We see the change on screen as much as we hear it in the script.

At the beginning of the scene, we see Li Lun looming over Zhuo Yichen, reveling in the latter's apparent defeat over being harassed for being a demon.

Even though Li Lun eventually kneels down, it is menacing and just as much a power move as when he was standing up.

But we instantly feel the switch in the flow of power within the conversation when the distance between the two actors gets smaller. It's like Li Lun is both compelled and repulsed by Yichen's defense of humans and his criticism of Li Lun's indiscriminate violence towards them.

So we know that Li Lun has lost control of the situation when he stands up again and leg kabedons Yichen, pinning him roughly against the wall. Unlike earlier in the conversation, he now has to resort to brute strength to repress Yichen, and we see that realization on Li Lun's anguished face.

SIDE NOTE: That little grunt and exhale of air from Yichen at that move? Sorry, my mind wandered. Moving on...

Up until this point, Yichen has been relatively calm, but when Li Lun goes too far by calling him a coward like Zhu Yan (big mistake to insult his man!), Yichen demonstrates his power and blasts him away from into the water.

Not only is Yichen now looming over Li Lun, they're literally not on the same level, the latter isolated and cast in darkness. His resentment and crimes have sunk him to such a level that Yichen can only see him as pitiful.

Li Lun's switch to Bai Jiu's form in the background as Yichen walks away reinforces this. As a child actor, Lester Lin is significantly smaller than Yan An, so the use of his body makes Li Lun look even weaker.

SIDE NOTE: What a devastating use of rack focus from Li Lun to Yichen, showing how his manipulation won't work on Yichen no matter how painful it must feel to see Xiao Jiu. The shallow depth of field weakens Li Lun's image (and therefore power) even further.

Finally, I love how this scene ends with Yichen walking past Li Lun who remains immobile in the water but eventually drags himself in the other direction. It's the perfect bookend to the start of the scene. Yichen moves beyond that barrier (Li Lun's body), looking forward into the future despite the challenges he will face, while Li Lun's stays behind, most likely choosing an even more self-destructive end to his tragic story.

God, I love this director even when his writing drives me up a wall.

[sovya]

like magic

ran haitani x f!reader (with hints of rindou haitani x f!reader)

minors n ageless blogs dni

cw: inc-st, dddne, use of honorifics ("nii-chan/san"), slight manipulation (on ran's part), pet names ("princess" "little girl" "sweetheart" "sweet girl"), D/s dynamics (including having rules), infantilization, slight humiliation, praise, degradation, teasing, hand as a gag (to keep you quiet), piv (mating press), size kink, free use (if you squint)

synopsis: ran, after a long day of work, wants nothing more than to decompress with his favourite girl—but he doesn't want to share. ♡

an: if i forgot any cws, pls let me know ! also srry this is so disgusting lol

wc: 2.5k

"you make it sound so easy..." a loud huff departs from his lips, pink and slick with your saliva and his own.

your whines cut through the heavy atmosphere of your sizeable bedroom, a sound that echoes off the finely decorated walls before seeking purchase in the recesses of ran's mind.

"but i need you... don't you need me?" long eyelashes give shade to your gaze as you look up at him longingly. you can almost see him question if you're asking in good faith or if you're simply trying to rile him up. 

either way, it's working. 

"aw, c'mon princess, you know that i do... nii-chan just hates to hurt his favourite little girl, that's all."

"but 'm tough... i can take it! i've taken you before."

"no, i know... i’m only worried that if you hurt too much, you'll scream and cry and then rindou will wake up. an' if rindou wakes up, he'll want a turn with you… and we both know rindou will be much meaner to you than i am."

your eyes leave his face as you look around the darkened room, just barely visible thanks to the lights of the city. he makes a good point, even though you wish he didn't. as much as you love how rin fucks you, your sleeplacking body might break under his strength alone. your gaze returns to your eldest brother's face, giving him a dejected nod. 

"hey, don't look so sad, little girl... 'm still gonna fuck you." his form hovers over yours rather menacingly, his hands on either side of your head holding himself up.

he looks like a God like this, you think to yourself. his normally perfectly styled hair now falling around his face after his nightly shower, the dark purple strands contrasting against his rather pale skin. the tattoo along the length of his neck bobs as his Adam's apple does, as if intentionally drawing attention to itself—though maybe that was the point of getting it on his neck in the first place. your sights trail further down his body, his work shirt having been discarded hours ago, hung up for dry cleaning the next time the maids come by. despite the strain on visibility, you can make out the distinct markings of his half body tattoo, eyes following the intricate patterns the ink has weaved into his skin. he's too good to be true but he's here and he's real and he's looking at you like he wants to eat you—not whole, but to savour you instead.

"so how are you going to..." your voice trails off, words fleeing into the sound of the fan running on the other side of your room.

"fuck you?" he smirks at your hesitation to use a curse word, something him and rin have agreed is strictly unallowed—only for you though, of course. "'s okay, honey, you can say it just this once. i won't tell rin."

"how are you going to f-fuck me if you don't want me to make loud noises?"

his smirk spreads wider, like a burning wildfire across his face, one he couldn't contain even if he tried.

"i’ll be gentle, sweet. take good care of ya." he shifts his weight to his left hand, using his right to caress your cheek, his thumb smoothing out the plush skin there.

“but… what if it hurts? like you said…”

“hm…” ran starts to look around the bed before reaching for your stuffed rabbit, placing it onto your chest, “hold your bunny, okay? cry into her if you need to cry.”

an involuntary whine escapes you, your arms wrapping around the stuffed animal your brothers bought you many years prior—prior to this moment, prior to them fucking you stupid nearly every night.

reaching his hand down to the waistband of his sweats, he haphazardly pulls them down until the band rests around his muscular thighs, his cock finally springing free.

“see, baby, there you go. just hold onto your bunny an’ nii-chan will be right here, okay?”

“okay…” the utterance comes out much less confident than ran was hoping for, but he’s too hard and his day has been too long to give a fuck.

he gathers the skirt of your nightgown and pushes it further up your hips, his large hands finding their way to your bum as he lifts you slightly, allowing the garment to collect around your body, just below your belly button. he leaves your bottom half completely exposed, your cunt now in full view.

“just as pretty as the first time i saw her…” ran sighs, speaking mostly to himself.

while his left hand remains on your body, touching your side with a gentleness not unfamiliar to you, his right hand pulls back, finding its way to his aching cock. he begins to touch himself, teasingly slow, as his gaze drags up and down your body.

“nii-chan…” whining, you give him a pout and ran can’t help but laugh.

“what?”

“want touches…” your eyes begin to well up as you watch him masturbate above you, knowing that the brothers gave you a rule against touching yourself without their express permission.

“what do you say, then?”

taking in a shaky breath, your brows furrow a little more, “please?”

“please what?”

you can’t totally see his face given the darkness of the room, but you can just tell he’s got a smirk plastered across his face.

“p-please… ran-nii, will you please touch me?”

“touch you where?”

goodness, you feel like sobbing. you feel a painful lump in your throat beginning to form and you swear it’s going to weigh you down into the mattress and leave you there, crying, for an eternity.

“r-ran… please? i need you. need you t-to touch me on my… in my… my…” you struggle desperately to get the words out, wrestling with your mind to just let you say the words—those incredibly humiliating words—you need to say.

“your… what?” his hands go back to your bum, lifting you up as he goes to line himself up with your entrance. afterall, you both know he can’t have you sobbing.

“there! touch me there! please!”

ran places a hand over your mouth, trying to keep you from nearly shouting at him again. the sheer size of it engulfs your face, causing you to clench against him, and he can feel it.

he hisses out a “fuck” when he feels your pulsating cunt against the tip of his cock, the way your arousal is dripping down your slit.

ran simply cannot wait any longer. he needs to feel you wrapped around his cock. his sanity depends on it.

the hand on your face presses harder against your skin, the bones of his digits digging in as he starts to sink himself inside of you. his jaw falls slack, letting a strained groan make its way past his lips. it may be dark in your bedroom, but he can see how your eyes dart around his face in a panic, never having taken him with this little prep before. you’re scared and incredibly pliant, just how he likes you.

you draw in a shaky breath, intense and fraught, like with every inch he presses inside of you, he threatens to knock more air out of your lungs. gripping onto your plushie tighter, you feel tears beginning to pool at your lash line, his cock stretching you with a harsh sting.

“there you go sweet girl… look so pretty like this…” ran whispers as he finally bottoms out, his gaze nothing short of absolutely adoring.

you blink and a tear falls down the side of your face and onto the pillow, “i do?”

ran lets out a breathy laugh, nodding while his hips start with a relaxed pace, “yeah, princess, so fuckin’ pretty.”

smiling up at him, you manage a small giggle, “thank you, ran”

he begins to speed up, the sound of his skin slapping against yours getting louder and more frequent, “that’s not what you call me… you know that…”

starting to sob, you partially hide your face with the head of your bunny plush, “sorry nii-chan… ‘m sorry…”

clenching his jaw, ran groans through his teeth, low and needy—like a man possessed.

“there we go, good girl… that’s what i like to hear.”

his cock stretches you open, keeps you open, as it drags along the gummy walls of your cunt. the feeling is almost agonizing, despite the arousal dripping down and forming a little puddle below you. you feel an intense ache in your core, like he’s threatening to tear you open. and through all of this, you feel so ardent, so eager, so good.

feeling you tighten around him, ran draws in a sharp breath, his fingers gripping at your pillows even harder, “fuck, sweetheart… love when you do that. w-what’s it you’re thinkin’ about in that pretty little head of yours?”

you give him a drawn-out whine, all of a sudden feeling overwhelmingly shy. looking up at him, your brows furrow as you shake your head.

“no? you don’t wanna tell me?”

you can feel yourself tighten around him again, but you repeat your headshake.

“alright, that’s fine.” suddenly, ran stops his movement, causing you to gasp—and you’ve got that precious panic face back on—how cute.

“wait… no. please keep going, ran-nii. i-i’ll tell you, promise,” you do your best to talk quietly, but the possibility of ran stopping is just too much for you to bear.

“you promise?” 

his cock is still buried inside of you, and he’s just as desperate as you are to keep going, but he’s gotta tease you. what else are big brothers for?

sniffling, you nod, opening your mouth to speak, “was just thinking about how you feel…”

ran starts to roll his hips into yours again, a smug look creeping across his face anew, “how i feel?”

“yeah… h-how you’re stretching me out and…”

moving faster, bringing himself back to his previous pace, ran raises an eyebrow at you, “and what?”

“just… how big you are…”

he licks his lips and his eyes grow heavily lidded, the classic haitani stare piercing through your soul, sending the most primal feelings surging through you—feelings you can almost guarantee are rushing through him too.

“how big i am, huh?” his large frame shifts above you, ran’s hands moving off the pillows and to the undersides of your thighs, pinning your legs to your chest.

you let out a squeal and ran’s hand finds its way to your mouth once again, attempting to keep you quiet as the weight of his body keeps your thighs pressed to your torso. a muffled “mhm” leaves your lips but is cut off by your big brother’s palm, causing him to laugh. the low rumble comes from deep in his chest and you can feel his abdominal muscles tensing against the backs of your legs as he chuckles.

he’s so strong, the feel of his muscles like absolute torment to you, causing your cunt to clench around him another time.

“you’re such a naughty girl… getting off on your big brother folding you in half and fucking you like a toy.” ran growls, throwing his head back and moaning. his head comes back down just as quickly so he can look at you while he speaks again, “but that’s okay, you know that… nii-san loves his dirty little girl.”

ran moves his hand from your mouth, pressing his sweaty forehead against your own, gazing into your eyes with so much love.

i love when he does this, you think to yourself. ran can play all the mind games he wants, can be conniving and tease you until you forget where he starts and you end, but the way he looks at you when he’s close gives all of his secrets away.

“i love you s’much, ran-nii.”

before you can register what’s happening, ran’s lips meet your own, capturing you in a kiss. it’s passionate and incredibly comforting all at once, making you dizzy and sending your heart pounding. his soft lips move against yours languidly, a wide contrast to how harshly his cock slams into you.

“nii-chan wants to make you cum, baby… ‘s that okay?” ran practically moans into your mouth, but you know his question is rhetorical. you know it doesn’t matter what you want, not really. that you finishing is all a part of his fun, too.

you nod anyway, lips parted and wet with both of your saliva.

ran snakes a hand down between the two of you, the pads of his middle and ring fingers touching your clit as he begins rubbing fast, tight circles against it.

you can’t help but squeeze your plushie tighter, tears starting to well up and fall, the crystalline droplets catching what little available light peers into your room.

“you’re so beautiful…” ran still speaks against your lips, as if he’s trying to convince you to let go right there underneath him. “the best little sister a guy could ask for.”

whimpering, you dig the back of your head further into your pillow, ran’s lips having no issue following.

“p-please?” although you’re unsure of exactly what you’re begging for, ran takes the cue to keep going. his long fingers continue swiping at your clit as his cock drags against the sweet spot inside of you, your entire body shivering and your eyelashes fluttering as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

your eldest brother ruts into you like an animal, breath catching in his chest with each thrust inside of you. his lips meet yours once more as he feels you starting to spasm and clench around him, desperate to swallow your moans, keeping them all to himself.

a high-pitched mewl escapes from your throat as you finally cum around his cock, your arms and legs trembling as sobs begin to wrack through your body.

ran’s orgasm isn’t far behind yours, his movements stuttering as he wraps his arms around your back, desiring nothing more than to hold you close as he finishes deep inside of you. he looks blissed out and incredibly vulnerable, so unlike the untouchable God you’re used to viewing him as. still, you can’t see him as anything short of perfect.

as the two of you lay there, you do your best to catch your breaths, hearing the sound of ran’s heavy exhaling right next to your ear.

“you okay, princess?” ran’s the first to speak, as always. you guys could have gone for hours and he could be mere moments away from passing out, and he would still check in on you, still do all the aftercare you needed. he’s attentive and sweet like that.

“yeah, ‘m okay… are you?” your voice comes out as a whisper, moving your hands from the plushie you were holding to return ran’s embrace.

he chuckles, maneuvering his head so he’s looking at you again, the warmest smile on his face, “just peachy.”

suddenly, the tender moment is interrupted by the sound of the doorknob to your bedroom jiggling, followed by the harsh light of the hallway as it creeps open.

"aniki... i believe it's my turn now."

[yanderes-galore]

yandere hcs for ennard, more so ennard when they're using Mike's skin and the darling is someone Mike knew? Hopefully that makes sense

Yeah, sure! I'll see what I got :)

Original Ennard HCs I'm using for personality purposes

Yandere! Ennard Pretending To Be Michael

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Graphic descriptions, Manipulation, Multiple personalities (Ennard), Deception, Dubious but implied forced companionship.

I feel this situation would progressively get worse as things progress.

Your connection to Michael doesn't matter too much.

I'd imagine due to the pairing you were friends or something closer.

The biggest issues with Ennard taking over are these;

Ennard has multiple personalities you'll pick up on over time, they struggle with replicating Michael fully.

The eventual smell as their disguise rots.

The odd movement "Michael" begins to display.

The look of your friend gets worse and worse.

Pretending to be Michael is a way for Ennard to be close to you.

At first they'd definitely struggle.

Not only do they have constant personalities buzzing in their mind, but they also don't know you well... if at all.

As a result, when you call Michael's name, you'll notice him twitch a little before trying to respond.

Ennard tries to also learn singular pronouns.

It would give them away if they kept saying "we".

Ennard struggles to learn Michael's behavior, but soon they get the hang of it.

It would help more if Michael had videos of you and him so they can copy it.

When Ennard meets you they can tell you're worried about Michael.

They can't tell if it's nice someone cares about them after being forgotten so long... or if they're envious of the supposedly deceased Michael.

Either way they try to respond in a way similar to Michael.

Honestly, trying to replicate Michael is hard for them.

One moment you find Michael being playful with you, the next he's asking you to dance midway through.

Then there's times he claims he wants to impress you, other times he gets a bit... devious.

You begin to wonder what he's gone through when he was gone?

Michael just seems so erratic with you.

He also appears oddly obsessed with you and things about you.

You even pull him/them aside to try and figure out what's up.

Your friend is acting weird... so you'll keep an eye on him.

There's times when he visits that there's the distinct smell of decay around him.

You jokingly tell him to take a shower one time, to which he (Ennard) gives you a confused look.

You feel even more concern towards your friend when you notice his walk.

He appear limping at times, leading to you holding him up.

An action you notice he shuffles closer to you during.

You offer to call the hospital when you notice Michael's skin turn a bruising purple, one that remind you of flesh lacking blood.

Ennard tells you they don't need it as Michael despite your worry.

Meanwhile as Ennard plays the role of your friend, they pick up items they think remind them of you.

They also often stare in an attempt to memorize what you look like in their mangled databank.

During this time Ennard is working on a time limit.

Michael won't be a suitable disguise soon enough.

Plus... the personalities buzz even more when they discuss you.

Soon you'll notice "Michael" slip away again.

This is Ennard making their escape, fleeing into the sewers.

They really hate the idea of leaving you... they miss the comfort you offer.

However, they promise to see you again.

They may even be in a different form when they meet you again.

Then they can have your comfort in their true form...

They hope you'll be just as welcoming as when they were Michael... won't you?

[stick-ball]

saw a hc about jean moreau being hyper sexual especially post-ravens. thoughts? feelings?

thoughts AND feelings! Oh the joy of being given a chance for a hot second to discuss this. You came to the right place my love. ❤️

Trigger and age warning : rape, sex connected trauma, dissociation, psychological abuse, controlling relationships, discussion of sexual acts.

Okay so, being hyper sexual. You know who does that in the books? Andrew actually. I know some might look at me weirdly rn like, 'what the hell are you talking about, he doesn't let anyone touch him'. Yeah, that's true! But that doesnt take away from the knee jerk reaction. (I'm sorry I know this isn't exactly what you asked but I need to discuss andrew first, and that has a lot to do with jean, bear with me).

Andrew finds a partner that he can to some limit trust (leverage, deals, careful observation, "training" them to behave how he tells them) to follow his instructions, which gives him a sense of control. They can fuck, but it's him who's doing it. It's him who's touching, kissing ect. The other person, of course if they consent, get to partake but not create the experience. It's one of the very, very valid scenarios of hyper sexuality as a responce to rape. He is rewriting every poisoned nerve ending in his body. He doesn't actually get off from the sex. For his own release he needs privacy, as shown in the books. Andrew's problem can be, that due to his truly inhumane trauma he can fall into the mindset of defining his sense of self through sex. It's an action and he's a tool in this scenario. Then again, We circle back to control, which is also a key feature of his decisions and protectiveness. Taking total control of the situation which used to be utterly outside of it, with no way out of it. Rewriting it, giving the traumatic experience a positive ending, hell an ending - when, and as suddenly as he might want it to end, is the motivator here. I think what he finds satisfying in terms of sex, not control, is giving sexual consent to his partners and, which he finds just as important, them giving it to him. Because it wasn't given to him. It's a way of building trust.

The motivations sound pretty nice, even if heartbreaking, don't they? Seem uplifting? The problem is, even if in good faith, this process can be very harmful, trauma surviviors mention that (at least ones I discussed it with personally) it feels good, but in the long run it does what this type of coping mechanism always does to your brain (similiar reactions can be seen for different traumas), which is hurt it. It's a form of desensitisation that limits your brain's ability to percieve the situation. It's hard to rewrite and leads to hot and cold kind of reactions, so yeah, having a relationship with a capital R is, difficult. That's what I always understood as Nora saying they are never actually okay (andrew and neil). Or at least partly understood it as.

Okay, so this cleared a couple things up. Now JEAN. Jean and Andrew share some factors of their trauma. While not treated as such, Jean was technically fostered by the Moriyamas, and well, Andrew's experiences with being fostered are faaaaar from what it's supposed to be as well. The difference is in Andrew's situation everyone tried to pretend the horror is not happening, there must have been a lot of manipulation and coercion and just plain fucking gaslighting in these houses. Its hard to talk about but I can imagine some of these monsters wanted him to act like he is enjoying it, and thats just out if the emotional range of dealing with for anyone. Jean knew he's in a trap from day one. Moreover, when it comes to the rape's he was victim of it was ordered by Riko to be done by others. That's a different level of fucked up. What's even more important as distinction here is he stopped, when Jean stopped reacting and fighting it. Because what Riko wanted wasn't violation, that was the tool. He wanted to psychologically break him. When the fish stops flailing on the cat stops pushing it around.

And Riko was constant, his modus operandi was regular, and the psychological torture was the motivator behind most of his "conditioning" of Jean. This is a situation where the abuse has a cause for the victim. It sounds sick and I don't agree with it, but it's a game in their mind. In the books we can see that he learned how to limit the amount of attention Riko gave him and as we know he is not confrontational like Andrew with his problems. And yeah I don't mention Neil as confrontational here bcs he has conditioned himself to run from everything and say he's fine to everything so..., sometimes it erupts frk mit but that's not exactly the same, its a last resort.

Circling back, I think Jean is more likely to be sex repulsed. For him sex, which was a form of punishment, is a cause of anxiety. Sexual tension is easy to mix up with nervous tension because of a feeling of losing control of the situation. That's why if we do get romance in the new book, I am putting my money on it being very messy from his pov. The magical thing about trauma responces though, is that they're not black and white, and someone who is sex repulsed might also seek an ending to their anxieties through it. Yet, it's ts a bit of an opposite motivation to the one Andrew has. When Andrew thinks of himself as a tool, Jean is more likely to think of himself as an object. There's a difference. While Andrew wants to take control, Jean is more likely to use it as either a way to retraumatise himself - so his version of hypersexuality would include less control and more roughness and violence, actually trying to rile the partner up. It might stemm for him from low self worth or be a way of letting out his angers and frustrations. It's not that he is used to being hurt, it's that he doesn't expect anything different. I also think he is more likely to have problems with opening up in therapy. Where Andrew is active Jean is passive, and the opposite. The upside is he might actually be more likely to communicate emotionally than through rules and laws, it will take longer, but be a smoother transition, because more people understand it than Andrew's way of building relationships.

Hope this anwser satisfies you, I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away. 😅

[ilikereadingthisiswhatilike]

IF THERE IS A GOD, IT'S ME Part 1

Parings: Cult Leader!Ellie x Reader Warnings: Manipulation Special Tags: Cult AU Word Count: 8.2k

Notes: Reader is Bi in this story. The story is based on the song IF THERE IS A GOD, IT'S ME by PLVTINUM. I recommend listing to the song. You can find it here.

Summary: Ellie becomes extremely upset after discovering the truth about Joel's auctions in Salt Lake City. She knew she could never see Joel again. Ellie left Joel and Jackson behind to find her place in the world. Ellie returned to the only place she knew before Joel, Boston. However, Boston was far from a welcoming refuge. Instead, She ventured into the unclaimed territories of New England to build a community akin to Jackson. As her community slowly took shape, people began to gravitate toward her, captivated by her strength and immunity. When people see that Ellie is the only immune person in the world, they believe she is a prophet. They wholeheartedly chose to believe they were placed on this Earth by a higher power. They looked to her for guidance and solace in the world. Ellie's biggest fear is to lose the people she loves. What Joel did killed him in her eyes. Now, she is traumatized and is very strict with the people in the town. Ellie deeply loves each member of her community. She loves them in a very dark way. Ellie found herself drawn to one person in particular.

(Eillie is a cult leader who likes readers more than she should.) 

You awoke to the biting cold of the early morning air. Outside, the early morning darkness clings to the world. You lay in a comfy cocoon of thick wool. A part of you hesitated to leave the warmth of your bed. Every breath forms cute little puffy clouds in the frigid air. A quiet groan escaped your lips as you thought about inevitably departing from this cozy sanctuary. You nestled more deeply into the soft embrace of the blanket. You lay there listening to the world stirring around you. Downstairs, you heard the faint sounds of your mother making breakfast. You also could smell the very distinct scent of breakfast. Your ears picked up the sound of your father reading himself for another day. They also picked up on the sound beyond the walls of your home. You could hear the faint chatter of your neighbors rising from the dead. You could listen to your neighbors groaning about having to wake up early. They also complain about the cold, frigid air. Every part of you wishes you could linger in the comfort of your bed a little longer. Sadly, you have too many responsibilities. With regret, you gave the blanket one final affectionate nuzzle before leaving the blanket's warmth behind. As you rise from bed, an exhausted sigh escapes your lips. There was no escaping your responsibilities.

You slowly rose out of bed and into a standing position. Your socks landed on the wooden floor below. Once standing, you quickly remove your pajamas. Next, you promptly slipped on your day clothes. Your outfit of choice was a pair of jeans and a cozy flannel shirt. Today, you dressed for the cold day ahead. Once you finished getting dressed, you decided to indulge in breakfast.

Before you descended the stairs, you decided to grab your well-worn backpack and jacket in hand. Once you collected your belongings, you dropped the stairs. Each wooden step groaned under your weight.

Once you were in the first room, you headed to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen, the scent of breakfast greeted you. You expected to find your mother tending to the stove. However, to your surprise, your parents were already seated at the kitchenette. They were in the process of consuming scrambled eggs and ham. Their faces shined in the warm glow of the morning sun streaming through the window. They were both engaged in a soft conversation. It created a scene of domestic bliss that captivated you.

"Good morning, my darling daughter," your father greeted you with a smile as he noticed your presence. You approached them, embracing them both with affectionate kisses.

"Morning," you replied softly, your voice still carrying the remnants of sleep. You moved to the stove to serve yourself a plate of the piece of the breakfast your lovely mother prepared. Once you received your portion, you quickly moved to the kitchenette. Once you settled into your seat, you began to eat. At the exact moment, you felt your mother playfully nudged your shin with her foot.

"Don't forget your morning prayer, dear," she reminded you. Her voice had a very gentle tone to it. "Remember to thank Ms. Williams and God for this meal. Without them, none of this would be possible."

Your father nodded in agreement. "We raised you better than that," he affirmed with a warm smile.

You offered an apologetic look. "I apologize, Mother. I was just excited to enjoy this wonderful breakfast," you replied softly before bowing your head in silent prayer. You prayed to God thanks for the meal before you. You also thanked God for his gift, named Ellie Williams.

Ever since you were young, your parents were religious. God and religion were cornerstones of your parents' beliefs. When you were growing up in a nearby QZ, your family participated in the local religious community. The three of you would attend different religious events together. You remember watching your parents pray before God for hours. During these prayer sessions, they would beg for more food on the table or for the aging house to remain standing. Every day, your family lives in a godly way. One of the few books your family read was a religious text. Your mother read it so much that it was pivotal in your education. Your mother used the book to teach you to read and write through its religious passages. You grew up practicing these passages so much you could recite them from memory.

God was so ingrained in your nature that you should never question God. Even on the worst day of your life, the day that the QZ fell.

FEDRA had become more oppressive than ever in the years leading up to the QZ downfall. Due to the lack of resources, FEDRA decided to work with everyone over time. The QZ citizens were subjected to grueling double shifts for meager pay. Even with everyone's hard work, there still needed to be more food and clean water. At the same time, there was a crackdown on smuggling by FEDRA. Both events caused the masses to grow visibly more angry. With the only alternative source of goods cut off, they gained a monopoly on essential goods. FEDRA raised prices, making most people's meager savings dwell faster. The lack of supplies also forced you to buy them at a high expense or die. FEDRA also started taking any form of restrictions seriously. They began to give people death sentences for the slightest infraction. People started to fear for their lives. There was a feeling of dread loaning over the city. Everyone sensed that the QZ's days were numbered. People could only speculate about when everything would fall apart. The only thing people could do was for the transition to be peaceful.

When the day of revoking came, it was everyone's worst nightmare. That day, QZ all around you descended into chaos. The sounds of screams and gunshots filled the air. Soon, every inch of the QZ became a war zone. People turned on each other for survival. People murdered one another for dwindling supplies. Some people use the fact that the world is crumbling to act on their dark desires. Gangs tore through the QZ, leaving destruction in their wake. The streets were littered with lifeless bodies when it was all said and done.

It was only by the grace of God you and your family were able to escape the walls of the QZ.

Your family struggled to build a new life outside the QZ walls. In your escape, your family could only grab essential supplies, like food and bandages. Even with rationing, the supplies only lasted about a week and a half. Supplies were scarce outside, meaning you spent much time searching for more. Infected were an ever-present threat, making you quickly learn to avoid them. Things worsened when the different gangs from the QZ started to venture outside the walls. Different groups scramble for territories and resources. People who dared enter the group's land were shot on sight. Between the gangs and the infected, staying in one spot for over a week was unsafe. Your existence became transient, moving from one place to another. The constant fear that each day could be your last weighed heavily on you.

Every night, you pray to God for salvation.

Then, one fateful day, it seemed God answered your prayers.

While scavenging for supplies, you encounter a group of survivors. You did your best to stay away from them just to be safe. However, God had other plans. While searching for a house for supplies, you came across a bloater. You knew you would not survive a fight with said bloater. Instead, you chose to run with the bloater hot on your trail. While trying to escape, the bloater ran straight into the group. They quickly acted and destroyed the boater's body with their weapons. The group also chose not to kill you even though you led a bloater right to them.

Once all the commotion settled down, the group's leader talked to you. The leader explained they were looking for a settlement in the area. The town they were looking for was rumored to be a paradise. According to the rumors, this town had abundant food and impenetrable walls. You told them that no settlement existed in the area. The moment the words left your lips, some members were frustrated. You could only guess how long and far they have been traveling. You could tell that every group member was exhausted and losing hope.

You offer them to stay the night at your family's makeshift camp in exchange for saving you. That evening, everyone shared a meal and stories over a crackling fire. You learned more about the group and their journey across the wilderness. Even though they had been walking for some time, they only lost a few people. By nightfall, you and your family decided to join this group on their journey. It was a risky gamble, but you had little left to lose. You would only last a little longer with how things look around here. So, the following day, you packed up what little you had left and left behind the only place you'd ever known.

The gamble paid off when, three days later, you arrived in paradise. The sight that greeted your eyes was unlike anything you had ever experienced. The town, bathed in the gentle glow of the sun, took on an otherworldly beauty. Nestled on the shore, it seemed like a jewel perched on the world's edge. The outer perimeter wall surrounding the town was as massive as the rumors had claimed. So vast that it cast a shadow that stretched over the land. This structure gave an impression of both safety and grandeur. The wall showed the effort the town put into its preservation.

The sight behind the walls left you even more breathless. Rows of lush greenhouses stretched before you, their glass surfaces reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display of colors. Inside, these greenhouses were vibrant with life in contrast to the acrid stench of decay you had grown accustomed to. The stock houses were brimming with supplies that had been collected meticulously. The stock houses were also neatly organized from floor to ceiling. Storefronts lined the cobbled streets, each one stocked with homemade goods. The shelves were adorned with crafts, fresh produce, and other treasures. Here, the fruits of labor are shared among neighbors.

It wasn't just the abundance of stuff that struck you; it promised a new beginning and hope for a brighter future. Children's laughter filled the air as they played in the streets without a care. Older adults sat on their porches and enjoyed the evening air. For the first time, you saw people with disabilities fully integrated into the community, living life to the fullest. Everyone in town was thriving instead of merely surviving.

Ultimately, God answered your prayers and delivered you and your family a sanctuary.

A sudden knock at the front door disrupted your morning meal. You sprang from your seat before anyone else had a chance to react. "I'll get the door," you announced.

With purposeful steps, you made your way to the front entrance. Arriving at the door, you braced yourself for the frigid bite of the cold air on the other side before you swung the door open. The morning light momentarily blinded your eyes. Once your eyes refocus, a familiar face greeted you on the other side – Alexander.

Alexander had been your next-door neighbor and closest friend in town since the day you arrived. From the moment you set foot in the community, he had gone above and beyond to make you feel welcome. Alexander eagerly took it upon himself to be your guide, offering to give you a tour of the small coastal town. As the two of you walked, he spoke about days long past. Alexander explained that this town had once been a thriving tourist destination, drawing thousands worldwide. But then came "outbreak day," plunging the world into chaos. Fortunately, at that time, the town had been in its off-season, its population reduced to just a handful of residents. This twist of fate had left the town miraculously untouched by the world's destruction. 

During the tour, Alexander's warm smile and charismatic personality enveloped you. He constantly flirted with you playfully, making your heart flutter with every charming word and teasing gesture. Over time, as your friendship deepened, you couldn't help but develop a crush on him. There were days when you thought his feelings might mirror your own, but it was hard to discern the truth.

The sound of Alexander talking pulled you out of your thoughts. "Hey, good morning," he greeted. He was leaning casually against the door-frame, his smile radiating warmth. 

"Hey, Alexander," you replied warmly, your voice tinged with a hint of affection. "What can I do for you this morning?"

Before Alexander could respond, your father approached from behind and interjected, concern evident in his voice. "Who's at the door?"

You offered a sheepish smile to Alexander before turning to your father. "Father, it is Alexander."

"Why don't you invite him in? It's better than leaving the door open. It's hard enough to keep this house warm as it is." Your father's gruff voice carried through the hallway, making him sound louder than he was.

You gave him a firm nod before turning to address Alexander. "How about we continue our conversation inside? You can warm up a little." Stepping out of the doorway, allowing Alexander to enter the house. You quickly closed the door behind him. 

"Alexander," your father's voice was friendly. "How are you? How is your mother doing?"

"Hello, Sir," Alexander greeted your father, extending his hand for a friendly handshake. "We're both doing well. She'll be helping out at the family supper tonight."

Your father let out a hearty laugh. "That's great to hear. So, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here this morning?"

Alexander looked over at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. "I was hoping I could accompany you on your morning walk to work."

His request caught you off guard, and you felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you struggled to find the right words. Fortunately, your father noticed your hesitation and came to the rescue. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," he chimed in with an encouraging smile.

You nodded in agreement, managing to find your voice. "Let me grab my things, and we can head out," you said softly to Alexander. You returned to the kitchen to retrieve your jacket and bag. Before leaving, you leaned down to give your mother an affectionate kiss on the head. "I'm heading out, Ma."

She placed a gentle hand on your wrist, her eyes filled with warmth. "Be safe, dear. And ask that boy on a date already. I'm not getting any younger and want to meet my grandbabies." Her words were filled with love and humor, leaving you with a smile.

Before leaving for the day, you gave your father an affectionate kiss on the head. "I'm heading out. I'll see you at the communal diner," you told him with a smile. With those words, you stepped out into the crisp, cold outdoor air, and Alexander followed closely behind.

An awkward silence enveloped both of you as you embarked on your walk. For several minutes, neither of you seemed to know what to talk about, the quiet punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of your footsteps. Alexander was the first to speak, breaking the awkward silence. His words caught you off guard. "You look beautiful today," he said with a warm and genuine smile.

His compliment made your cheeks flush even warmer, and you returned the gesture with a sincere smile. "Thank you," you replied, feeling a pleasant flutter in your chest. "You're quite handsome yourself." Playfully, you bumped into his arm, and the shared laughter eased your awkwardness. The walk suddenly felt lighter as a more comfortable and enjoyable conversation ensued between you.

As you arrived at the school where you worked, you paused before the building's entryway to bid Alexander a good day. However, it seemed Alexander had one last surprise in store for you. Just as you were about to enter, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist, causing you to stop. "Wait!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with anticipation. "Before you go, I wanted to ask you something."

The air was thick with curiosity and a sense of the unknown as you turned to face him, wondering what he had in store. "What is it?"

"Would you go on a date with me?" At that moment, as the words hung in the air, time seemed to stand still. You looked into Alexander's eyes.

A soft smile graced your lips as your heart swelled with joy. "Yes," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and happiness. "I would love to go on a date with you."

Before either of you could continue the conversion, you became aware of another person's presence. Ellie Williams, the most influential figure in town, stood in the school doorway. Her piercing gaze fixed upon you and Alexander. Her presence's weight was palpable, leaving you both momentarily speechless. 

"Alexander, I believe the morning patrol shift starts soon. You better get going. You do not want to be late." Ellie's words broke the tension, but her tone was icy, and it was evident that she held some authority over Alexander.

He nodded quickly, seeming slightly uneasy. "Yes, you're right. I am sorry, ma'am," he replied, glancing at you apologetically. "I better get going. I'll see you later." There was a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but duty called, and he couldn't ignore it. As Alexander hurried off to his morning patrol, you were left standing there.

As Alexander hurried away, Ellie's demeanor softened almost instantly. It was as though the cold facade she had initially displayed had melted away with his departure. Ellie turned to you, her expression more gentle. "Sorry about that," she said, her tone warmer than before.

Her sudden change in demeanor slightly put you off. "It is ok, ma'am. What can I help you with?"

You couldn't help but be slightly put off by Ellie's sudden change in demeanor. "It's alright, ma'am," you replied. "Is there something I can help you with?" 

Ellie let out a small laugh before walking up to you, closing the distance between you. "No need to call me ma'am. You can call me Ellie. We are all family here."

Ellie's laughter and her request to be called by her first name surprised you, but you nodded in acknowledgment. "Of course, Ellie."

With purposeful steps, Ellie started to circle you. Your heart started racing, and her presence felt somewhat imposing, like a predator sizing up its prey. "I have heard excellent things about you as a teacher. I am going to observe you today." You were a bit nervous when she finally stopped directly before you.

"I'd be honored to have you observe my class," you replied, trying to maintain your composure. Inside, your mind raced as you prepared for the upcoming observation. "I hope I live up to all of your expectations."

"I am sure you will," she replied. She gave you a smile that was meant to be comforting but came off as more sinister. She stepped out of your way and opened the door to the school building. "Ladies first."

You nodded in response to her comment and gesture. You stepped forward and entered the school building ahead of her. You couldn't help but wonder about the true nature of Ellie's intentions. As you entered your classroom, the sight of your students filled you with a sense of purpose. You had always loved working with young children; something about teaching them gave you hope for the future. While waiting for you to arrive, the children played with the classroom toys. You placed your bag on your old desk. "Alright, children, please settle down," you said, your voice carrying authority softened with kindness. The children swiftly cleaned up their play area and returned to their chairs. Ellie lingered in the doorway.

You directed the children's attention to Ellie's presence in the doorway. "Children, this is Ms. Williams. She will observe our class today, so please be on your best behavior." Turning your attention to Ellie, you added, "Let me get you a chair to sit in." You moved over a well-worn office chair from behind your desk to the doorway, offering her a seat to observe the class comfortably. As Ellie settled in, you began the day's lessons, determined to impress Ellie.

Throughout your lessons, you felt Eillie's watchful eye on you. The whole time, she did not take any notes. Instead, she just stared at you. The weight of her gaze felt heavy over you. The whole thing made you nervous. You thought yourself stumbling over your words as you spoke. Your palms were sweaty, causing problems as you wrote some words for the children to practice spelling. Your fingers trembled so much that you ended up dropping the caulk. The caulk bounced on the floor before rolling over to Ellie's feet.

As you conducted your lessons, you couldn't shake the feeling of Ellie's stare. Her gaze felt like a heavyweight, and it made you increasingly nervous. The pressure of her presents started to take its toll. You stumbled over your words, your sentences losing their fluidity. Your palms grew sweaty, making writing neatly on the board challenging. Your trembling fingers betrayed you when you accidentally dropped the chalk. The chalk clattered to the floor, bouncing before resting at Ellie's feet.

The room fell silent for a moment, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you, including Ellie's. You offered a sheepish smile and quickly moved to pick up the chalk. As you both reached for the fallen chalk, your hands brushed against each other briefly. A sudden rush of energy surged through you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Hastily, you withdrew your hand, allowing Ellie to pick up the chalk. As Ellie straightened up, it felt like she loomed over you, her presence undeniably commanding. She placed the chalk back into your hand, and the connection between you two felt electric. Her touch, firm on your shoulder, offered a strange mix of reassurance and unease.

"You don't need to worry," Ellie said softly, her voice close to your ear. "You're doing perfectly." With her free hand, she gently brushed aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of your face during the exchange, sending a shiver down your spine as a complex mixture of emotions swirled within you.

You felt renewed confidence after Ellie's reassuring words and the brief, unexpected interaction. With a firm nod, you returned to your lesson, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. You taught with more confidence and clarity for the remainder of the class. Your words flowed as you guided your students through the material. The children seemed engaged, and their eagerness to learn helped you focus on the task at hand, temporarily pushing aside the unusual events of the morning.

At noon, it was time for the children to eat their lunch. As the children settled down to eat their lunches, you assisted them in getting their packed meals from their bags. The classroom buzzed with activity as the kids enjoyed their food. Amidst this, Ellie approached you from behind, her words catching you off guard.

"You've done an excellent job today," she acknowledged. "I have some other matters to attend to, so I'll leave. But before I go, I wanted to ask you something. Would you accompany me at the head table during the family supper?" Her request was unexpected, and you found yourself momentarily speechless.

Despite your unease, you couldn't bring yourself to say no to her invitation. Her influence in the town was undeniable, and it was well-known that you could not say no to her. "Of course, I'll be there." You gave her a soft smile. Ellie nodded in response before swiftly leaving the room. The prospect of the upcoming weighed on your mind as you continued to attend to the children during the day.

After Ellie left, the rest of your day unfolded in its usual rhythm. You continued teaching the children until early evening, guiding them through lessons. Parents began to arrive, one by one, to collect their children. The parents hurried their children home to get ready for family dinner. As the last child was picked up, you gathered your belongings. There was a soft rustling of leaves in the gentle evening breeze as you walked home.

Your peaceful walk ended as you ascended your house's front porch steps. You swiftly entered the house, the familiar embrace of warm air enveloping you. You could hear the soothing fire crackling in the fireplace from the entryway. You placed your belongings on a coat rack by the door, carefully hanging your coat. The soft thud of your bag hitting the wooden frame. "Mother, I am home," you called out, your voice carrying through the home.

"I am in my room, darling," your mother's gentle voice responded, a melody of warmth and love that beckoned you upstairs.

The wood creaked under your foot as you walked up the stairs to the second floor. When you reached your mother's room, you found her bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Pushing the door gently, you were greeted by seeing your mother sitting in a comfortable armchair by the window. She held a piece of clothing in her lap, and her skilled hands deftly worked a needle and thread, sewing patches onto the fabric. Even though she had lost her eyesight, she refused to let it slow her down. Your mother had taken up a job as a seamstress in town. She repaired everyone's clothes, from the youngest child's torn shirt to the worn-out garments of older people. Her skillful hands extended the lifespan of these clothes.

"Welcome home, my dear," she said, radiantly smiling. She set down the piece of clothing she was working on when addressing you. "How was your day?"

With a deep sigh, you sat down on her bed. As you sank into the soft matrices, you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. "My day was strange… Alexander asked me on a date." You remember how you felt at that moment. Every cell in your body was bursting with excitement.

"However, before we could plan anything, Ms. William appeared."

Your mother's subtle shift in her seat caught your attention. Her movement prompts you to look up at her. Worry clouded her eyes, and a sense of unease hung in the air. It was clear that Ellie Williams was someone your mother held in high regard but also feared. She understood just how powerful Ellie was in town. "What did Ms. Willames want?"

"She wanted to observe my class," you replied, still trying to process the unusual encounter. "Supposedly, she's been hearing good things about my teaching skills."

Your mother offered you a reassuring smile and gently touched your cheek. "I'm glad you're in her good graces," she said, her voice tinged with pride and caution. She then took a deep breath before continuing, choosing her words carefully. "However, remember to be careful around her. Her influence runs deep, and her actions have shaped the town in ways we can't always understand. Do you remember what happened to the young couple last year?"

You nodded, your mind drifting to a sad memory from the previous year. The event is a stark reminder of Ellie Williams' power and the consequences of crossing her path.

The official story is that a wanted young couple ventured into the wastelands beyond the town. It was forbidden to leave the town borders without special permission. Instead of using the main entrees, the couple sneaked out of town using one side gate on the perimeter wall. In their haste, they accidentally left said gates open. A small herd of infected creatures found their way in. The Guards had to act swiftly and kill all the infected before any damage could be done. When the young couple returned, Ellie was waiting for them with a punishment in hand.

Ellie stated that the couple must repent and reconnect with God. Residents felt shivers through the town. Guards escorted them to one of the many shacks designed for introspection located by Elli's house. These shacks are structured to make people reflect on their actions. Only Ellie and her trusted counsel were allowed to interact with the individuals. Often, those relocated to the shacks spent most of their days alone. Access to approved religious texts served as the only form of entertainment.

For six long months, the town heard nothing from the couple. Updates came solely from Ellie during the community meals, her brief mentions serving as the only connection to the outside world.

When the couple was finally released, a heavy cloud of silence hung over their return. The bruises that covered their bodies went unaddressed by the townsfolk. It seemed as if everyone had collectively agreed to overlook the ordeal. Few newcomers dared to ask about what had transpired during those six months. Instead of answers, they were met with cryptic replies. Over time, even they succumbed to the town's unspoken rule of silence.

The entire event served as a chilling reminder of the delicate equilibrium within the town. The respect for Ellie's authority and the fear of her consequences walked hand in hand, casting a shadow over the community's collective conscience.

"Yes, Mother. I remember what happened to the young couple. I promise you that I will be careful," you reassured your mother with sincerity, squeezing her hand lightly and offering a reassuring smile. However, that optimism quickly faded as you couldn't escape the feeling of unease.

Your mother noticed your change in demeanor. "What is wrong, my dear?" 

As you thought about the upcoming dinner, a swirl of emotions churned. "Ms. Williams wants me to join her at the head table during family supper," you admitted. Your voice betrays your true feelings.

The honor of being in Ellie's presence, let alone being invited to dine with her, was undeniable. There was a part of you that felt genuinely honored by the gesture. However, that honor weighed heavily on you. Beneath the feeling of recognition, there was a gnawing fear. You couldn't shake the feeling that one wrong move could quickly put you on Ellie's bad side. Only some wanted to find themselves on Ellie's wrong side.

Your mother's sudden movement startled you, causing you to look up. "We must get you ready for tonight," she declared.

There was seriousness in her features as she gazed into your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but she silenced you. Her firm grip on your wrist pulls you to your feet. She rushed into your room. Once inside your room, she released her hold on you and began rummaging through your closet. She had an almost frantic determination when looking through your wardrobe. Her frustration was evident as she examined each piece of clothing she pulled out. Most of the items were riddled with holes and stained from everyday wear.

"Mother, what are you looking for? Can I not just wear what I normally do?" you asked, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor.

She sharply turned to you, her eyes hardening as they met yours. "No, you must wear something nicer," she replied firmly, shaking her head before returning her focus to the closet. "Everyone's eyes will be on you, and you must be perfect."

Your stomach dropped as your mother's words sank in. It all started to make sense. Ellie rarely dined with anyone outside her inner circle. The fact that she had invited you meant that the entire town would scrutinize your every move. The pressure was immense, and the consequences of messing up extended beyond just displeasing Ellie. Everyone in the community would also judge your family and your place.

Your mother's voice pulled you out of your anxiety-filled spiral. "Ah! This is perfect," your mother exclaimed.

Your mother's search eventually found the nicest clothes you had. She found a long skirt dyed a deep, warm orange and a white blouse adorned with delicate orange flowers embroidered into the fabric. There were a few faint stains on the clothes, remnants of past occasions when you had worn them. You had always reserved these two items for significant events. You did this to preserve their condition.

Your mother handed you the outfit before speaking again. "Quickly put these on. Once you are done, we can do your hair."

Obeying your mother's command, you went to the second-floor bathroom. You quickly stripped down and redressed in the skirt and blouse. Once fully dressed, you took a moment to gaze at yourself in the cracked bathroom mirror. You couldn't help but appreciate the transformation. Despite the few stains, you must admit that you looked pretty good in your carefully chosen attire. Confidence began to bloom within you, a necessary shield against the evening ahead.

One last glance at the mirror, and you exited the bathroom. Returning to your room, you found your mother sitting on the edge of your bed, a hairbrush in her hand. Without a word, you crossed the room and settled on the floor before her. She gently brushed your hair; the rhythmic motion and the silence between you created a sense of calm.

As your mother continued to brush and style your hair, the sound of your father's approaching footsteps grew louder. His voice called out from beyond the doorway, "Is anyone up here?"

"We are in here, dear," your mother replied without looking up, her attention entirely focused on your hair.

Your father entered the room following your mother's voice, his curiosity piqued. His gaze fell upon your outfit, and he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "What are the two of you up to?" he inquired with amusement and curiosity. "What's with the fancy get-up?"

You addressed your father in a soft tone. "I've been invited to dine with Ms. Williams during family supper," you explained. The words carried the weight of unease that still lingered in your mind.

Your father did not share your feeling of unease. Instead, excitement washed over your father's features as he learned of your invitation. He enthusiastically leaned down and pulled you up from the floor, disregarding your mother's protestations. He enveloped you in a warm, tight hug. His voice filled with joy as he said, "That is such good news!" His infectious excitement momentarily eased some of the tension you were feeling.

An annoyed noise escaped your mother as she was displeased with your father's interruption. She gently touched her husband's shoulder, attempting to redirect his attention. "Darling," she began, "I need to finish her hair. It would be best if you started getting ready yourself. We will need to head out soon."

Your father hesitantly let you go, understanding the urgency in his wife's words. His tone softened as he responded, "You are right, dear." Leaning down, he kissed your head lovingly before leaving your room. Once he was gone, you and your mother finished preparing you for the evening ahead.

You arrived at the building as the sun dipped behind the horizon. The sun casts a warm glow over the sky. Your parents left earlier than you and were already inside the communal building. Most townsfolk were already inside, but a few lingered outside, savoring the evening air. Among them, you spotted Alexander, who was standing near the entrance. Upon seeing him, you quickened your pace and called out to him. He turned his attention toward you, and you couldn't help but notice the subtle change in his demeanor. His eyes went slightly slack-jawed as he took in your outfit. You even saw him stand a little straighter as he met your gaze.

"Wow, you look amazing," Alexander exclaimed in awe, his eyes appreciating your outfit. "You are gorgeous in that outfit."

A blush warmed your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you," you replied softly, feeling a growing connection with him. Stepping closer, you met his gaze and asked, "What are you doing outside? Shouldn't you be inside already?"

Alexander gave you a sheepish smile. "I was waiting for you. I was hoping to sit with you during dinner."

Your smile began to fade as you remembered your duty for the evening. Before you could respond, another voice interrupted. "She will be joining me for dinner tonight."

You turned to find Ellie standing behind you. Ellie placed her hand firmly on your shoulder. The weight of her words and their implications hung in the air. Alexander's smile dropped upon seeing Ellie. You could tell he wanted to say something but held it in. He knew better than to challenge Ellie on anything.

You acknowledged her statement with a firm nod. Ellie's hand glided down your back before settling at the base. She urges you forward with a push of her hand. As you leave Alexander, you throw him a glance that conveys your regret.

Family supper was sacred in the community. It is a weekly gathering where the community shares a meal. However, the event transcends a simple community meal. It reinforces community members' bonds with each other. It also reminds everyone of their shared purpose.

Before the dinner was served, it was customary for Ellie to deliver a speech. These speeches were unique in their delivery but touched on essential topics. She would sometimes speak of the community's prosperity. She would also celebrate the community's achievements and unity. The whole room is always filled with pride and togetherness after these speeches. On other occasions, she would deliver cautionary words. She would sound the alarm against those seeking to hurt the community. She also warned against those who wish to undermine the community's values and way of life.

Ellie's speeches served as a source of inspiration for the community members. Everyone would see how much she treasured everyone in the room. It also showed how dedicated she was to the protection of the community. It was not uncommon for people to leave with a profound sense of purpose and solidarity.

Family supper was something you usually enjoyed. Seeing everyone gathered in the same room, sharing laughter, stories, and life, filled your heart with joy. You really could feel the strong bonds between community members. A sense of dread coursed through your nerves on this particular evening. As you entered the room, you couldn't ignore the collective gaze of everyone present. Their eyes locked onto you, and emotions played across their faces. Many were surprised and caught off guard by your presence in Ellie's company. Some seemed to study you, searching for clues to gain Ellie's favor. But there were others, their glares filled with resentment. They looked as if they wanted nothing more than to see you fail.

Ellie's table was situated on the far side of the room on top of a stage, adding to the mounting stress of the situation. Every scrutinizing eyes carefully watched you traversing the space. Ellie kept her hand on your back the whole time you walked to the table. Her hand only moved from that spot when she offered it to you as you walked up the stairs. 

Ellie pulled a chair out from the table and extended it towards you. "Here you go, my lady," she said, her tone warm.

You offered her a grateful smile. "Thank you," you replied before sitting at the table. Ellie gave you a wink and picked up your hand. She placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. 

The room fell silent as Ellie took her place at the center stage. There is a palpable sense of anticipation in the air. All eyes fixed upon her, and you felt the weight of the community's collective attention. Her gaze swept over the assembled crowd. She assessed the room before she began to speak. The hushed room awaited her words, eager to hear what she would share this evening.

"My beloved flock, seeing you all again fills my heart with joy." Ellie's presence was radiant as she stood before everyone. To many, she almost resembled an angel in their eyes. "As I look around this room," she continued, "I am reminded of how far this community has come. It wasn't too long ago that this town was a desolate wasteland. But look at it now: transformed into a beautiful, thriving community."

Her words were imbued with a deep sense of pride. Everyone looked up at her with admiration in their eyes. Ellie's words resonated deeply with the crowd, and a collective sense of accomplishment washed over the room. 

"My life before founding this town was filled with loss. Everyone who I ever loved had either died or left me. I was left transient with no reason to live. One day, a realization washed over me. I could establish a town of my own." Ellie declared, her voice filled with conviction. "It could be a paradise where everyone could sleep peacefully at night. A home where no one would suffer from hunger. A sanctuary where there is no loss, only life," she proclaimed, her words resounding with a sense of purpose and hope. She paused, allowing her words to settle in, and then gestured to the room around her as if encompassing the entire community in her vision.

Ellie descended from the stage, her movements deliberate and purposeful as she began to walk between the tables of seated community members. Her presence drew the attention of everyone in the room as she continued to speak. Unlike you, Ellie thrived under everyone's gaze. Not once did she falter or come off as nervous. 

"Building a paradise is a massive undertaking that requires lots of skills," she began, her voice carrying through the room. "Initially, I doubted my abilities to create such a place. Before I could do anything, I had to find a location free from infection and raiders. Only then could I begin gathering the resources needed to rebuild." As Ellie moved among the tables, she made direct eye contact with each person she passed, her gaze unwavering and determined.

As I slept, a voice spoke to me in my dreams one night," Ellie continued. "The voice told me it was my destiny to build a haven. In my dream, I saw a town untouched by the world's evils. It even told me how to find this paradise. "She gestured once again, her hand indicating the buildings that dotted the landscape of their community.

"The voice said that if I started to build, people would come. It also said I would guide lost souls to salvation as a leader. The voice spoke about how I could cultivate a new generation of people who survive and thrive. The voice also claimed I am the only person to take on this task due to my immunity."

Her words have the audience in hushed reverence. Many felt that they were witnessing the fulfillment of a divine prophecy. The room was filled with awe and inspiration at Ellie's words. Her words even have an effect on you. A sense of calm replaced the feeling of unease you held earlier. The feeling washed over you as she spoke. You believed every word. 

"When I awoke that morning, I gathered my meager belongings and embarked on my mission. It was a long and arduous journey that spanned many days. Along the way, I encountered countless challenges. I fought against raiders, braved extreme weather, and faced the relentless trials of the world. Yet, through it all, I never wavered in my purpose. Ultimately, my determination paid off when I discovered what I had been searching for. Along the coast, I found an untouched gem. The moment I saw the town on the horizon, I knew it was the place perfectly suited for my vision of a town."

Her storytelling captivated the room, making everyone hang on her every word. The attentive audience fixed their eyes on her, hanging on her every word. As she moved through the room, the people she passed by couldn't help but lean in closer to her. Many of them were drawn by the power of her narrative and the strength of her conviction. There was a sense of reverence and admiration in the air. 

"As soon as I arrived, I wasted no time turning my vision into a reality. Day by day, I tirelessly rebuilt the structures, secured the perimeter wall, and started the first greenhouses. My own hands carried out every task, and I never once faltered. Not long after I started working, you, my flock, arrived." She extended her hand, gesturing towards the crowd who watched her with rapt attention. "As each of you found me and joined this cause, we became stronger. Your efforts brought the town closer to the perfect haven I envisioned."

At that moment, a sense of unity and shared purpose filled the room. Most people saw the town's collective efforts as a part of a divine plan. A handful of people even felt destiny had guided them to come together. These beliefs forged a bond between the community members that transcended the ordinary.

You, too, felt the impact of these beliefs. The arrival of the survivors long ago felt like a deliberate act of fate. It was hard not to believe a higher power had orchestrated it. Without the survivor's information, you would have never known Ellie's town existed. Even if you learned about the settlement through other sources, it was still doubtful you would have ever found the town alone. You most likely would have died in the wastelands like many others. It became clear to you early on that God had guided you to this settlement for a reason. 

"My dream has become a reality thanks to my guidance and your unwavering hard work. Together, we have forged a world free from suffering. Our children will never know the pangs of hunger. As parents, you can watch your children flourish and shape a brighter future. Everyone is guaranteed to grow old and die a peaceful death. Every member of this community possesses an unstoppable potential for a better life. As I look around this room, I see that this community embodies everything I have ever desired. And it does not surprise me that we have achieved it."

Ellie paused her speech for what seemed to stretch for an eternity. She locked her gaze upon you, her eyes piercing deep into your soul. The look Ellie gave you left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The intensity in her eyes remained enigmatic. Even if with the feeling her gaze gave, you could not look away.

As Ellie broke eye contact with you and returned to her place at the center stage, a sense of anticipation filled the room. Everyone waited on the edge of their seats to see what she would say next. "As a reward for your hard work," Ellie announced, her voice filled with generosity, "I had the kitchen make apple pies. Enjoy your meal, everyone. 

The room filled with admiration and gratitude as Ellie's unexpected gesture was met with awe. Most meals were planned with optimal nutrition in mind. This made desserts a rarity in the community, typically reserved for special occasions. So, the decision to provide apple pie on an ordinary day was met with overwhelming appreciation. Ellie's act had made everyone feel genuinely seen and valued.

While the community members exchanged grateful glances, Ellie seemed indifferent to their reactions. Instead, she turned her back to the crowd and directed her attention to you. Ellie had an almost eerie smile as she walked closer to the table. "Shall we eat?" she asked, her expression left you with an inexplicable sense of unease.

[onlygoldwillsuffice]

Dendroaspis Polylepis

Tom Riddle x Reader

For mature audiences only

This is my first time writing smut in any form, sorry if it's corny or confusing LOL

I tried to make this one longer than the last, I hope you enjoy (but i barely proofread it)

Read the first part here

Content: non-con (sort of), general smut, fem-bodied reader, questionable power dynamics, inappropriate use of parseltongue, snake-related innuendos, manipulation, slight dumbification, orgasm denial, overall dark themes - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: A certain cloaked mamba you know proves to be dangerous when provoked.

Notes (Please read or confusion will follow) - This fanfiction is an AU where Parseltongue has the capabilities of mind-control, similar to Legilimency. The mechanics of this ability will be further elaborated upon in the story. Tom also has his own bedroom since he's the head boy.

Special thanks to everyone who interacted with my last post, you're all so sweet! <33

Taglist: @eyukkie, @ravenclawh0re18, @catherine1x I tried to get a little creative for this one, hopefully it's not too disappointing ( ´ ▽ ` )

The dendroaspis polylepis, most monotonously known as the black mamba, is often associated with danger, fear, and mortality. Its reputation as a deadly predator has contributed to its formidable image, and it is widely regarded as a symbol of danger and intimidation due to its highly venomous bite. 

Its notoriety is defined by its speed, dexterity, and stealth, capable of striking without the slightest warning. The black mamba is considered highly aggressive and will attack others if threatened or cornered.

 The black mamba's appearance is characterized by its sleek scales and dark coloration, ranging from grey, olive, brown, and of course, black. In addition, it has a distinctive sarcophagus-shaped head and a long, thin tongue, which it uses to assess its surroundings and locate prey. 

Its streamlined and elegant form is beautiful and intimidating, eliciting both admiration and fear in those who encounter it. 

_______________________________

More than a week has passed since the Slytherin head boy confronted you.

No matter where you went, a pair of ashen-colored eyes followed. But it wasn’t like before, when it was simply a gaze that held a distant vigil over you. 

Instead, it had taken on a new form—an ominous sort of fervor that seemed to burn within its depths. It was cruel in nature, with a vehemence that appeared to be begging for bloodshed with every glance.

However, you didn’t regret your actions in undermining Tom Riddle, even though it was a risky move. In fact, you enjoyed the slight rush it gave you when you left him as good as speechless under the stars that night.

You sat at your dorm desk, leafing through the last of the week’s homework, relieved to know you would be heading to Hogsmeade for the weekend the next day.

Professor Beery had planned a trip for your herbology class to take a look at some of the rare plants the locals had shipped in, and he figured it would do you and your classmates some good to study their behaviors and practical applications.

Finally, you’ll be free from the prying eyes of You-Know-Who, at least for a couple of days. 

The following morning, you made your way to your friends’ dormitory to leave your pet snake with them since you couldn’t take her along.

You found her egg four years ago, nestled alone in an abandoned den, fighting off a few predators to protect the fragile shell. Ever since she hatched in your bedroom back at your parents’ place, the two of you have been practically inseparable.

After you knocked on the door, it creaked open to reveal your friend Maselle.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, “I just wanted to drop off my snake with you for the weekend.” “Can you look after her while I’m away?” 

“Of course,” she replied, taking the snake’s small enclosure from your hands. “We’ll have a great time, won’t we?” She looked at the snake, who flicked her tongue out in response.

“Thank you so much,” you said, expressing your gratitude. “She’s pretty low maintenance, just make sure she has enough water and keep an eye on her. She likes to explore.” Maselle chuckled, “No problem. Safe travels!”

You waved goodbye and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, solace building in your chest for the trip ahead. You met up with the rest of your classmates, who were eagerly discussing the plants they hoped to encounter during the excursion.

As you ate, you sensed a glaring presence upon you and instantly knew where it was coming from. You understood it was in your best interest to dismiss it, but the force of it was strong enough to make you reluctantly turn your head and look towards the Slytherin table.

Riddle sat there in his usual pompous posture, surrounded by his cronies. His stony eyes were locked onto yours, but it was nothing you weren’t used to at this point.

You finished your meal and joined your classmates as you all made your way to the Hogwarts Express.

The train ride was filled with laughter and excitement, and you couldn’t help but feel lighter, knowing that you’d be away from Riddle and his aggravating presence for a while. 

Once you arrived in Hogsmeade, your group went to the townlet greenhouse, where the rare plants were being kept. Professor Beery led the way, excitedly explaining the origins and properties of each plant as you and your classmates took notes and asked questions.

The day went by in a blur of fascinating facts and hands-on learning. Nevertheless, it was a welcome respite from the tense atmosphere at Hogwarts, and you wished that you could stay in Hogsmeade just a little longer. 

But eventually, the weekend came to an end, and you and the rest of the class boarded the train to return to the castle.

_______________________________

Once you got back, things were... off.

For the past three weeks, you felt a persistent pounding within your head that would come and go with no particular pattern. And as a result, you felt light-headed on an almost daily basis and often struggled to find any appetite for food.

Even your emotional state was as unpredictable as the weather, constantly shifting and changing. Or, there would be times when you would be in the middle of a conversation or doing a task, and your train of thought would suddenly vanish into thin air.

By Merlin, were you getting sick?

Surely it’s nothing to worry about. You must have caught a bug being around all those plants.

But that wasn’t the only odd thing. Tom was no longer watching you.

In fact, it seemed he paid no mind to you at all. He would only glance your way when he could sense your eyes on him. 

It’s not that you minded. You just weren’t expecting his behavior to take such a 180-degree turn.

Good. 

He should leave you alone, and you should be able to go about your day without feeling under close scrutiny every time he enters the same room as you.

You dismissed the idle thoughts, and the specter of upcoming OWLS and assignments loomed over you, forcing you to focus on your studies first and foremost. 

But, due to your declining health, you had trouble sleeping a lot of nights. And the lack of rest took a toll on you, making it difficult to concentrate in your classes.

Unfortunately, potions, a class that happened to be scheduled as the last one of most days of the week, was particularly arduous to sit through as it became commonplace for you to drift off during lectures.

Professor Slughorn, your potions teacher, noticed your situation and, being the kind-hearted man that he was, offered you a few after-school lessons to help you catch up with your work. Grateful for his concern, you accepted his offer without hesitation.

After a successful lesson, you packed up your belongings, feeling more confident about your understanding of potion-making.

As you were about to leave, Professor Slughorn called out to you. “Ah, before you go,” he said, holding up a textbook, “Tom left this behind. Could you please return it to him?” 

You hesitated, not wanting to be bothered with Tom, especially at this hour. “But Professor, it’s already pretty late. It’s likely that he’s already asleep.” Professor Slughorn chuckled. “I’m sure he won’t mind, and to sweeten the deal, I’ll reward your house with 15 points if you do this small favor for me.” 

You realized you couldn’t debate against him for much longer, and the thought of earning points for your house made you reconsider, so you reluctantly agreed. “Alright, I’ll do it.” 

“Thank you, my dear,” he said warmly, handing you the textbook.

Besides, it can’t be that bad anyway. 

Tom’s the kind of man who never deviates from his bedtime routine, retiring at nine o’clock on the dot, so you’d probably be able to pass the textbook to one of his fangirls the next day, who are always eager to do him a favor.

You took the book and set off for Tom’s chambers, praying fervently that your errand would be a nonexistent or at least quick one.

_______________________________

As you approached the threshold of his bedroom, your steps echoed off the walls, bouncing back at you with an eerie silence. 

You steeled your nerves, inhaling deeply before lightly rapping your knuckles against the door. You knocked as gently as possible, not wanting to risk waking him if he really was asleep. And quite frankly, you didn’t want to deal with whatever lay behind the room before you.

“Enter,” called a baritone voice from the other side.

Your stomach sank—just your damn luck.

You cautiously opened the door to find him standing by a small kitchenette set up in the corner of the room.

Taking a glance around the surrounding area, you notice it’s much larger than you expected. 

Very organized. Very Tom.

Antique yew furniture, hardwood floors, a few paintings of influential (and particularly dark) witches and wizards like Salazar Slytherin, and a large circular Persian rug in the epicenter of the room. 

You notice a warm glow from a masonry fireplace covered with intricately painted tiles against one wall and towering bookcases filled to the brim with novels in languages you couldn’t decipher, accompanied by assorted trinkets spread along another.

The gentle light from a few sparsely placed lamps illuminated only parts of the room here and there, leaving much of it cloaked in mystery.

But your attention is quickly pulled back to Tom, who greets you with a tilt of his head and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Come in.” His firm tone makes his words sound more like a command than an invitation.

You hesitate before taking a few more steps into the room, but before you know it, you find yourself standing in the center.

“I wasn’t expecting a visitor so late tonight,” he says, a hint of false curiosity in his voice.

“Look, Tom, I’m just here to-,” he cuts you off. 

“Oh, I know what you’re here for. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t retrieve it myself as I was busy with other matters. Care for some tea? I hear it’s good for restless nights like these,” he said, gesturing towards the ornate pot beside him.

“No thanks,” you immediately decline. “Gosh, Y/N. You don’t need to be so suspicious of me all the time,” he softly chuckles.

You can’t help but roll your eyes - after all, this is a man who’s been stalking you for the better part of a year.

An unnerving stillness fills the room as he turns up the heat on the stovetop. He turns around to look at you, his back leaning casually against the counter.

“You know, I really missed you while you were gone,” he trails off and looks away for a moment before finally meeting your gaze again. “How was your trip?”

Letting out an impatient sigh, you feel your feet shift on the ground beneath you, and you begin to tap your foot in irritation, not wanting to stay any longer than necessary. “Is there a point to this conversation, Tom? I need to get back,” you asserted. 

Tom smiles and nods before slowly turning around to finish boiling the water. He grabs a tea bag of what looks to be chamomile and carefully lowers it into the pot.

As you wait for the seconds to tick by, he fills up an awaiting mug with the steaming liquid, taking a leisurely sip before setting it down and turning towards you to speak again.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night,” he begins. “What I said and the way I acted may have been a little bit out of line, and I dread that I’ve given you a bad impression of me. Still, I hope you can understand that I was just trying to do my job as a student. You never know what intentions some people might have, especially within the walls of a school like Hogwarts.”

You felt frustration overtake you as you acknowledged that your attempt to keep the interaction short quickly became an impossibility. “I wasn’t bothered by it,” you respond. “You can consider yourself redeemed if you just take back your textbook-” He interrupts you again. “Let me make it up to you, Y/N.”

He begins to walk towards you, sending a knot of trepidation through your stomach.

“Tom, seriously. I really don’t mind,” you protest. His domineering aura seems to swell with each step he takes, and you become acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. And it’s not that you’re particularly short by any means; it’s just that he’s freakishly tall.

Time seemed to stand still as you parted your lips again to make your words more transparent, determined to finally leave.

“Did you hear me, Tom? I said I-” Two large hands abruptly snaked around your waist with a tight and unforgiving grip, startling you and snipping off any chance of finishing your sentence. Your heart races as fear and confusion erupt over you at the unexpected intrusion.

He’s definitely crossed the line now.

Your instinctive reaction forces your muscles to tense as a surge of indignation permeates your being. How dare he lay his hands on you like this? You attempt to raise your hands, ready to shove him back, but... that’s strange.

Why can’t you move?

You look up at him with wide eyes, only to see cold and unkind ones staring back down at you. Fear as hot as molten lava pumps swiftly through your body as his disfavored presence engulfs every corner of the room. He towers above you, a daunting force that cannot be ignored.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his tone dripping with condescension. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Tom reached into the depths of his robes and pulled out his wand, a thin shaft of aged wood. Then, with a fluid swish, the room went dark, with the only lingering light coming from a handful of candles scattered throughout.

As he focuses his attention back on you, he takes note of the puzzled expression on your face and takes it upon himself to explain what’s happening, “graciously” filling in the missing pieces for you.

He utters a word as ancient as time, a single string of syllables resonating with power and strength. “Parseltongue...” he trails off. He whispers into your ear, and for a second, you could swear you were hearing not just with your ears but also with your mind--as if he were speaking directly to it. His words curled around your head, internally and externally, sending shivers down your spine.

He pulls you closer to him and strokes the curve of your cheekbone with his finger. His breath is warm on your skin, and his voice is low, giving off an intimate whisper that fills you with forbidden vitality.

“And you’re right, Y/N,” he says softly, his pillowy lips barely brushing against your ear. “How could I have been so careless? Letting just anyone see me speak such a socially inappropriate language”, his finger still trailing feathery lines on your pretty face. His lips are so very close. Your heart begins to pound in your chest as the anticipation becomes almost too much for you to bear.

You struggle and write, desperately attempting to break free from his iron grasp, but to no avail. With a quiet hiss, his lips parted to reveal a mamba-like tongue. It curled between your own, completely enveloping you in a rough, disordered kiss.

His tongue is warm and languid, moving languorously around your mouth as if it has all the time in the world. The moment's intensity advances as he wraps you up in darkness, forming an impenetrable prison of human contact.

His soft moans swarm your ears before he finally pulls away from you, leaving a thin, glistening strand of saliva linking your parted mouths - evidence of the lewd kiss that had just taken place. His eyes scan your stupefied face with satisfaction, pleased at his ability to put you in such a state.

“Most people know Parseltongue gives someone the ability to speak to snakes, but very few know about the other power it holds.” 

As he speaks, you feel a chill run down your spine, sensing that there’s more to the story. And you’re right.

“I spend a lot of time in the restricted section of the library,” he says, steering you backward by your hips.

 “Searching for any book that could grant me more power than I already possess, and I happened to stumble upon something interesting about a year ago. Something that very few ever find out about.” His voice descended into reverential silence, as if he were weighing up the situation and deciding how much to reveal.

“The use of Parseltongue on a non-Parseltongue speaker can have manipulating effects only under very specific circumstances.” You feel your ass bump against his desk, and seconds later, he lifts you up, placing you on its hard surface.

“Proficiency and fluency in Parseltongue are paramount for anyone wishing to manipulate another person with their words,” he purred, his voice as smooth as silk. His tongue trailed a languid path along your jawline, leaving you weak at the knees.

“And the non-Parseltongue speaker must have or be in a state of vulnerability that the speaker can exploit.” His words seemed to contain a hidden power, like each syllable would take on a life of its own.

“This could manifest in many different ways -- from being under the influence of a strong potion or spell to enduring a great deal of emotional turmoil.” He waves his hand over your chest, and without even touching you, his intonations seem to make the buttons on your shirt undo themselves as if of their own volition. 

“Perhaps they have endured past trauma, harbored unfulfilled desires, or been crippled by overwhelming fears.” He redoubles his effort as he traces intricate designs over your neck and collarbone, artfully balancing pain and pleasure within you.

“If the speaker is able to tap into the listener’s vulnerabilities and use Parseltongue to amplify those feelings or emotions, well, the listener can be controlled at the deepest levels to do just about anything.” You feel his warm hands slide up your smooth thigh and past your flimsy skirt. “Down to their very thoughts, emotions, as well as…physical being.” 

Calloused fingertips began gliding over the thin fabric covering your clit. Every pass of them sent tingles of pleasure to the sensitive region between your thighs, earning a few yelps out of you--sounds that only spurred the growing hardness in his pants.

“In the most extreme circumstances, with those bold enough to practice dark magic, it can even induce a trance-like or petrifying state of mind where the listener is devoid of all sense of time and space, leaving them totally in submission to the speaker’s demands.” 

Almost like the one you’re in.

His hands squeeze your upper thighs, pushing up your skirt ever so slightly. “Parseltongue works in unique ways, though, and it’s only effective when the target is not in a position to resist.” 

“Unfortunately, however, you didn’t seem to have any of those vulnerabilities. And believe me, I asked around. Your friends, professors - it seemed like no one really knew anything about you.” You felt a pang of disappointment as his body withdrew from yours, and you involuntarily bit your lip at the thought of his touch.

“How could I possibly get to you, I wondered?” 

“So I started by retracing my steps.” He began to disrobe, letting his heavy cloak slide gracefully off his shoulders and discarding it onto a hanger beside the door.

“I looked over the book again to see if there was anything useful to me, and as fate would have it, I overlooked a page. There was one last way to control someone with Parseltongue. A strong connection, a mental link... specifically through snakes.” He carefully pressed the fabric down, ensuring it was hung up neatly and securely, before turning back around.

“I was honestly surprised, wondering what I had done to be so fortunate.” He let out a low chuckle, and the true implications of his words began to dawn on you. Every beat of your heart was like an overturned stone as you realized what he was implying.

Tom’s voice was low and menacing as he recounted the details, savoring his newfound power over you. “Your friend, the one who had your snake while you were gone, she talks too much,” he explained, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “It didn’t take long to learn about your dear companion.” He started walking towards you again as he spoke.

“I gave her some generous flattery, and when I requested to spend some time with your little pet, it was quickly met.” His muscular arms moved carefully to take up a post on both sides of you, effectively trapping you between them. 

“At that point, all there was left for me to do was plant some seeds into your precious snake, slowly feeding it sounds that it would imitate and eventually take form in your subconscious.”

Your visit to Hogsmeade was meant to be a refreshing and carefree trip, but instead, Tom turned into the site of a wicked plan, using your unsuspecting pet as the tool for his manipulation. 

You stared at him in disbelief. Was this even possible? Could your snake really be influencing you without your knowledge?

Tom seemed to read your thoughts. “Yes, the mind is an incredibly powerful tool. And when combined with the right kind of magic, anything is possible.” He paused for effect before finishing his sentence with a slight glimmer in his eyes.

You felt a chill run down your spine as the full extent of what he had done set in. You could almost hear the sibilant hiss of your snake as Tom spoke, and the image made you shudder involuntarily. The thought of being under the influence of something you had no control over, something that was affecting your health, thoughts, and emotions, was a terrifying prospect.

“Don’t look at me like that, Y/N.” He pleads softly, his strong arms scooping you up from your plush thighs off the desk and cradling you close as he carries you across the room to his bed. 

Even under the dim candlelight, his eyes were burning with intensity as if begging for something more.

As he continued speaking, you couldn't help but notice how his voice seemed to wrap around your mind, manipulating your senses just like he had done with your snake. It was almost hypnotic in its power, as if he could will you to listen and obey his every word.

“I have always been fascinated by the power of Parseltongue. It’s a language only a select few can understand, and even fewer can speak. But with great power comes great responsibility. And I, my dear, am not one to shy away from responsibility.”

The fear that had permeated your bones dissipated, replaced by a different, unfamiliar feeling. His words seemed to drift away, and the deep-rooted desire between your legs suddenly became more pronounced. You felt your breath come in short, shallow pants, wanting something without knowing what it was. You wanted his touch, and you wanted it bad. It was an urge that seemed to be calling out from within you.

Tom laid you tenderly on the edge of his neatly-made bed, his gaze transfixed entirely on you. 

“Oh sweetheart, what I wouldn’t give for you if only you knew how to make the right choices,” he whispered. 

He slowly ran the calloused pad of this thumb along your now tender lips. The faintest of sighs escaped him as he observed them pucker and contort under his caress. 

“But I suppose having you like this will do for now,” he purred before inclining his head and pressing his soft lips against yours.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he pulled away with a smile. “Let’s make it last. Now keep still.” 

You did as you were told, closing your eyes and relaxing into the pillow. He flicked his tongue along the skin at the base of your throat, blazing a slow path down to your collarbone. He lingered there momentarily before continuing to your breasts, his teeth softly grazing around each nipple before delivering gentle bites that sent borderline electric shocks through you.

Tom seemed to sense your arousal, and he used his other hand to pull up your skirt, leaving it bunched up around your waist. 

Trailing his fingertips down, he slipped off your panties, exposing the swollen nub that was far too neglected for both yours and his liking. Not to worry, though. He was determined to set it right.

He dipped his head down, showering you with the warmth of his breath as he bullied the sensitive skin beneath your belly button. 

You could feel his soft cheeks on your inner thigh as he moved lower, and you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue licking at your slit. He continued to taste and tease you, occasionally stopping to place an open-mouthed kiss on your clit, eliciting a mewl from you.

Tom hummed in approval, kissing it once more before trailing his tongue along your labia, gently lapping at the juices already starting to flow from your vagina. 

You couldn't help but squirm as he slowly made his way up to the top of your cunt.

You arched your back, trying to get closer to him as he nibbled at your flesh, mapping out the contours of your folds with his tongue. His hands moved from your waist, skimming up the sides of your ribs and onto your breasts, gently squeezing and massaging them as he continued to feast on the spot beneath your abdomen. 

You were lost in a sea of your thoughts, desires, and emotions, unsure if they were truly your own or just the seeds Tom had sowed. It didn’t matter, though, for he had become an escape for you--a way for you to forget about everything else. He was giving your body the attention it so desperately craved, and in return, you granted him complete control over you.

Tom continued his exploration, slipping two fingers inside your slippery cunt as he used his other hand to massage your clitoris in circles. Every touch felt more profound than the last, making it difficult for you not to whimper from the intense pleasure inundating you.

You felt your mind go witless, your thoughts growing hazy with every movement he made. His long fingers descended inside you slowly and deliberately, coaxing you closer to the edge. But before you could reach the peak of ecstasy, he withdrew them and moved back from you to unfasten his dark slacks. You heard the faint sound of a zipper being pulled down as he spoke in a gravelly whisper.

“Go on,” Tom said softly, his voice fluttering slightly. “Touch yourself for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. All you wanted was to feel his thick cock pushing its way past your entrance—an intrusion that would bring about nothing but pleasure. Your hands moved up to your breasts, shamelessly pinching and rubbing the nipples between your fingertips as you thought about Tom’s lush cock in you.

He leaned forward, and you gasped as you felt something hard and thick, probing its way inside your canal, igniting an overwhelming sensation within. Your walls were already slick with his saliva, enabling him to slide in effortlessly. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist as tightly as possible, eagerly pulling him closer as pure bliss consumed your entire being.

“Tom!” you cried out, You could feel him growing harder against you, his pace picking up as your moans got louder.

Tom’s hand reached down again and captured your clit between his fingers, chafing it roughly as his cock mercilessly pounded into you.

As you approached the glorious return of the orgasm that previously left you, your entire body tensed in anticipation, wanting to make it last as long as possible. But unfortunately, Tom had other plans. 

His action was met with a plaintive whine when he abruptly pulled away from you, lifting you off the bed and settling you on his lap, eyes level with his. His hands were almost painfully tight around your waist, keeping you securely in place.

He guided you down onto his still-throbbing member, watching intently as you pathetically began bouncing on it. His damp ebony locks hung like a curtain around his face, and his half-lidded eyes were full of longing, looking at the flickers of pleasure that crossed your face as every inch of him filled you up.

You could feel his heart drumming, and every rigid breath he took seemed to reverberate within the space between you.

“Do you want to come?” he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery. You nodded your head so fast he was surprised it didn’t spin around and fall off your neck. 

“Use your words and say it then,” he continued, clearly enjoying the idea of teasing you. “I can’t understand your mindless babbling.”

He was utterly clueless to the degree of torture he was putting you through, but you gathered what remained of the sense you had left and stammered out a barely coherent string of words.

“Pl-please, Tom,” your voice was shaking and frail as you begged pitifully. “L-let me come around your c-cock.” The desperation in your words and tone was evident as tears started welling up in your eyes.

Your whole existence was devoted to craving and conviction; only his touch could break the deep enchantment he had cast over you.

“There we go,’ he breathed gently into your ear before kissing away the last of your tears. “Now, was that so hard, princess?”

You felt serenity sweep over you as his lips left your skin, and in reply to the question, you shook your head from side to side.

"Ah, ah. Use your words," Tom reminded firmly as if he were scolding a misbehaving student.

You swallowed hard and forced the words out of your mouth. “No, it wasn’t h-hard at all," you voiced meekly. It was a lie, but you were relieved that you had been able to utter something.

Tom's lips stretched into a wide grin at your obedience, pleased that he had gotten the audible response he wanted.

He accelerated his rhythm, bucking his hips faster and faster into you. You could hardly keep up with him as you finally reached the point of no return, and contentment flared through every nerve in your body, causing you to shudder in ecstasy. You felt yourself squeeze around him tightly, internally gripping his throbbing cock as it pulsed within you.

His large frame trembled uncontrollably as he painted your insides with his hot seed, leaving a warm, sticky trail trickling down your thighs, mixing with your essence.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. He placed his head on your chest, his body rising and falling rapidly as he recovered from his own orgasm. 

He delicately entwined his fingers with yours, slowly tugging them towards him, and lifted his head to look at your satisfied expression before planting a gentle kiss on your lips, sealing this moment forever in both of your memories.

Never before had he felt such euphoria. It emanated from both of you in such a beautiful display that no one else could ever replicate or replace.

And sure, he may not have had you kneeling before him and pleading for absolution like he initially envisioned, but having you so entirely at his mercy like this was a more satisfying form of retribution than he could ever have dreamed of. As you relinquished the last of your power to him, the look in your eyes spoke volumes—a much sweeter vindication than words could ever convey. 

[runabout-river]

Descending and Ascending into a Curse

I’ve been thinking about Sukuna, his outlook on life and his origins a lot and while his birth and his act of cannibalism beforehand will get their own post, this one is about his ascension into a curse.

Right at the beginning of the story, there had always been confusion about whether Sukuna is a curse or not. Gojō talking about him being an imaginary god, a human-born curse like Naoya, didn’t help make that distinction clear even though Gojō specified that the people merely believed him to be one even though he was still human.

That distinction though had always been muddled in and out of story with descriptions of Sukuna like:

The King of Curses

Yuji calling him and Mahito a curse

Yuji calling him a curse again after he took Megumi’s body

Sukuna bathing in pure cursed energy

Gege himself categorizing Sukuna (and Kenjaku) as a curse

We could label that kind of description metaphorical; that Sukuna is just so inhuman in his conduct that he’s compared vividly with actual curses born out of negative emotions. But we’ve already been told through Tengen that his cursehood is meant to be literal.

After Riko’s death, Tengen changed into Metalgreymon a higher being. In that form, she was so much like a curse that Kenjaku was able to use Curse Manipulation on her. But more than that, Kenjaku explicitly makes a comparison between Tengen and Sukuna.

Meaning that Tengen’s new form is similar to how Sukuna is and has been since Heian. This process has been described as the next stage of evolution for humans, so an ascension into being a curse while we could describe the normal process of becoming a vengeful god a descent into one.

Normal but highly developed curses can become similar in their thought processes and feelings to humans, as we’ve seen with the disaster curses who in fact tried to replace humans. The only thing they can’t do is deal with positive energy.

Sukuna on the other hand can use PE without problems. We can’t say yet how far evolved he is compared to Tengen though (eg could Kenjaku control Sukuna with CM if Sukuna were to be weakened enough?)

As it stands, the path that Sukuna and Tengen chose to go on to elevate themselves above humans not only made them curse-like hybrids but also took them a step higher on the evolution chain than a normal curse or vengeful god could ever be.

In conclusion, while Sukuna is still human he also is a curse but not one born from a reduction of his self into negative emotions and cursed energy. Instead, he’s elevated into a curse (or a curse like being that deserves a new name) through a different process, one that no one else replicated except Tengen but only through a twist of her CT that took 500 years.

(The most interesting question on Sukuna's ascension is, how did he go on that path? What are his motivations and how did his pre-natal cannibalism and being born a "cursed child" (disfigured?) contribute to that? All to be discussed later.)

[xurkitreeking]

i love your human ink, could you care a little bit more about him please 🥺?? (headcanons and all of that)

!

*turns brain upside-down, smacking the bottom of it to get all the thoughts out. like i'm getting the dust and crumbs out of a keyboard*

in this au magic is it's own distinct form of matter, or energy which is created by the soul. everything is either made of physical mater or magic.

the 'ink' that ink manipulates is not magic, but instead just regular physical matter that hasn't become anything yet. it has the capability of becoming anything and, in a sense, is what every non magical thing is made of (although he cannot turn anything he didn't make back into ink)

ink is entirely made of this solid ink. at one point he had a body that was partially made of magic (like blue/underswap sans) but he's since replaced each part of it with ink over time after being injured.

he has no internal organs. other than the outside layer of color, everything underneath is solid black ink. so his "blood" is black

he, unlike many other sans', is incredibly durable. and whilst he feels normal and squishy to the touch, he's about as solid as concrete

in this au all souls contain magic, although only some are born with the ability to use it. as a result, there is virtually no physical distinction between ink's body and an inanimate object

he has no stats (hp, defense, or attack) since those refer to magic. instead ink is perfectly fine as long as the ink that composes his body still exists

he's always covered in burses

he always doodles around the burses in pen, and is always writing on his arm.

he's always covered in henna tattoos (which he obv draws himself)

he can't feel pain and is very casual about loosing a limb (which doesn't happen frequently. but. you know. it happens.)

whilst ink is well intentioned (most of the time) and is ultimately a force for good, on a person to person level he is not what i would describe as a "good person".

he tends to overstep boundaries and takes jokes way too far. the suffering of others is quite funny to him

he's also a total adrenalin junkie and has complete disregard for the danger he puts his friends in by dragging them along with him (particularly blue)

he is aware of these flaws. he often realizes after the fact and feels bad about it but does little to change

he believes that he's the only one who's truly alive since everyone else is no more than a character written and controlled by the creators, whilst he alone has free will. (he's also wrong. he's just as much a character written and controlled by the creators as everyone else is. he just has a god complex). he's often incredibly cruel to those he does not deem "important to the plot" (he does not believe this is a flaw)

whilst he isn't a "good person" it's much more complex then saying he's a "bad person". i just find his flaws much easier to articulate. maybe that's a me problem, maybe i'm projecting (maybe i need to go to therapy about it)

more miscellaneous stuff!:

he's aro/ace

him and error are roommates (ink just showed up in the void and became an immovable object) (error's also aro/ace)

they co-parent paperjam and gradient

ink made pj as a literal fan kid for him and error. he used a save point for his soul

error made gradient out of his strings as a doll for pj to play with. then pj brought him to life (somehow)

i've ended up drawing human error and made sketches of human pj and "human" gradient that i will never finish

i know your ask was about ink but this is where it lead me

there, i can stop thinking about this now. i think i can sleep now

edit: wait no! gradient has button irises not full on button eyes