#and now it feels they actually meant 'if there's no chance of them dying then you might see them' instead

[sheyshen]

i think the main issue i'm having with veilguard atm is that they're sharing too much. there's too many things too many spoilers (no matter how minor) too many reveals and peaks that it's kinda dampening the hype so close to release. before the peak at the CC keep people were theorizing what might be important what might come up. there was talk and people looking forward to getting their hands on the game and CC and now there's just disappointment especially from people who don't really like solas all that much. we knew he'd be a focus in the story (since it was called dreadwolf originally after all) but with the preview having such small things and the focus just being "did your inquisitor kiss him? did they want to save him?" for sure feels like a reduction of what the inquisitor was in the previous game and how they could impact veilguard's story to "does solas like like you y/n." (which feels ironic honestly)

idk. i'm still looking forward to playing but seeing the 180 from so many fans after the latest reveal is quite something. I'm not saying BW should be secretive about the details, especially after a decade of development, but yea i get how so many people have kinda started losing that excitement for the next iteration of the series after having the previous 3 be so interconnected in little personal ways and now knowing this one won't be. while i get there's a lot of choices that have been made across the games that wouldn't make sense to import, what was the point of including the inquisition portion of the keep? just to have a little sheet of what options you made? that's it?

i'm sure this has been said a million times but just kinda getting my thoughts on it out. the game will probably still be good, the story fun, the gameplay engaging, but it does feel like they're going for a sort of reset of the series with this one and i can understand the mixed feelings about it.

[laurenkmyers]

The universe really said HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[worldstarz]

genshin men voicelines about you

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

pairing: gn!reader x kaeya / diluc / thoma / ayato / tartaglia / ayato / albedo / itto / kazuha (separate)

a/n: xiao bonus at the end! could not think of anything that wouldn’t feel contradictory to his other voicelines, but maybe i’ll make a part 2 with some other men i missed + eventually with the girls. sorry for anything ooc bc i haven’t played genshin in over a year ��

cw: blood mention, itto is a loser

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

KAEYA

Oh, [name]? They’re many things, certainly. Dependable, attentive, easy on the eyes - ah, but I can't say too much. Is it so bad I want to keep something precious for myself?

DILUC

You’re asking about [name]? Why is that? …you’re curious about our relationship? I thought I made it obvious that they’re my partner—not for business, but romantically. I like to keep my personal life, well, personal, so forgive me for not divulging too much information.

THOMA

I was actually about to go see them right now! It’s hard for me to get some free time, but whenever I do, there’s nothing better than spending it with [name]! No matter how tired I am, I always feel recharged right away when they’re around, and then I can work even harder!

TARTAGLIA

Do you think [name] would like this necklace? Or maybe this bracelet? How about both? Maybe I should get these in different colors, too. Wait, I think I have enough mora on me to buy the entire stand—what? Why are you giving me that look?

AYATO

A day polluted by meetings with people I do not have the energy to care for, futile attempts at gaining power from my opponents, endless bartering… my, I hate to spoil the mood, but I do need a refresher. Pardon me as I send a servant to fetch my beloved [name] for me. I won’t be long. Once I see their face, we may go back to our discussion.

ALBEDO

[name]? Yes, they’re my partner. …Why do you look so surprised? I know I have said maintaining relationships is difficult, but they are very patient and willing to meet me halfway. I also cannot deny my attraction to them. It doesn’t affect my research whatsoever. Rather, their affections motivate me to research something new everyday for conversations with them. …Perhaps I am also meeting them halfway.

ITTO

What? You surprised a stone cold gang leader like me can score a hottie like [name]? Make this a lesson to never doubt Arataki “numero uno novio” Itto! Well, uh, I gotta admit, they are kinda outta my league… H-Hold on, why do you wanna know so much? You trying to find my weak spots or something? No… you couldn’t possibly… be trying to steal them from me?! Oho, you’re messing with the wrong gu- wait, get those beans away from me!!!!

KAZUHA

If I were to pick between losing my voice or losing [name], may the earth be granted my silence. If I must bleed out for thousands of years for even the slightest chance to lay beside them, may the blade of the sword be sharp. If granting them an eternal life of tranquility and happiness meant sacrificing my own life, my dying breath will be their name.

bonus:

XIAO

*…he blushed and teleported away.*

[aliesbienish]

Happy news

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x wife reader

Summary: An attentive Benedict unknowingly spoils his wife’s surprise.

Pure fluff.

Lord Granville’s house was abuzz with noise. Carefree guests occupied every space; talking, drinking and mingling..some rather intimately. While you generally enjoy these events immensely, today you felt a little overwhelmed.

It was your husbands fault you felt this way, Benedict was being far too attentive. You’d expect him to have found his way to an easel in one of the many rooms by now, but here he was diligently by your side. Sure you usually loved him for it, but today it made you panic. Panic because you were trying to avoid spilling a secret you had planned to share the following week when you made it to Aubury Hall. You had it all planned out; a picnic in the secluded gardens where you’d pull out your own old baby toys from the bottom of the wicker basket. He look confused understandably, but you explain it’s about time you both decided what their babies cherished teddy would be.

However, your husbands concerned looks meant that this plan was quickly going out the window. Each time you declined champagne or foreign teas he asked if you were okay. And when you had to stop dancing with Ms Delacroux due to a queasy stomach it was like he thought you’d be struck down then and there.

“Y/N, how about some fresh air?” Your husband asked, gently tugging your hand.

“Ben, I promise I’m fine,”

“Humour your poor husband, would you?”

You relented reluctantly, letting him lead you through the grand home out towards the back gardens. The noise died down and the air cooled as you both walked hand in hand amongst the flower.

“Honey, I love you but you are scaring me. These parties are were you normally get a chance to let loose and be yourself. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Ben, I promise you I’m not dying. Can’t I enjoy my evening without the aid of substances?” You grumbled. A last ditch attempt to hold onto your secret.

“Of course you can, but that doesn’t explain your uneasy stomach.”

“Fine,” you muttered, “you caught me. You actually caused my stomach problems Mr Bridgerton.”

“How? I wasn’t even the one dancing with you?”

“Well without your help I wouldn’t have missed my monthly bleeds,”

“Your monthly…” he murmured questioningly before a look of shock passes across his face. “Honey, please tell me you’re not jesting. Are we having a child?”

“Yes Ben” you smiled as a large grin spread across his face. He let out a giddy laugh before pulling you off your feet into his arms.

“I love you so very much,” he whispered before pelting kisses across your face. “And I already love our child” his hand went down to your stomach “and I can’t wait to meet them”.

———-

So you didn’t get to tell Benedict the way you had planned, but luckily a week later you were still on a picnic at Aubury Hall. However Ben wasn’t the one in the dark, his mother was. And she was about to get some delightful news.

FIN

Hope you all enjoyed. Please feel free to shoot me any requests x

[m0nsterqzzz]

word count: 3k

- Liar Liar - 

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

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You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

 All is fair in love and music though.

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[uriswhumpchamber]

I'm here to bring y'all some living doll whumpee propaganda - and I mean living doll, not conditioned whumpee who thinks of themself as an object (those are good but y'all write them better than me).

And I do mean propaganda.

No mess, no proof of someone living having been hurt. Blood splattered means violence happened, but... What is a bit of broken porcelain, or whatever other material left on the floor, if not something to just sweep away and put with the trash?

No chance at salvation. Who would try to save Whumpee, after all? It's not like they're an actual, living, thinking being - yes, anyone else in their situation could (arguably, but in every setting there's at least one revolutionary) be argued as a person, someone could want to save them. But Whumpee is a plaything. Nobody will come for them.

Being made for someone else. Being made, their purpose defined from the start, whatever it may be. Specially good when that purpose is "take a beating without dying or breaking that much". Specially good when it very much isn't, but that's what happens anyway - with Whumpee not being able to even expect it, no matter how clear the signs, because that's just not how it's supposed to be.

Failing at that purpose, when it's the second - because now they're in pain, now they're suffering, and so it doesn't matter anymore what they were meant to do - they can't. And who- what even are they, at that point?

No chance for adaptation. Whumpee isn't a living being, after all: they can't get used to pain, to overstimulation, to discomfort, to stress. They can't grow around things, can't have their body change to save them, in whatever little ways a living being can make themselves survive - no scar tissue, no numbing of the feelings when it gets too much. Whatever happens, they can only take it - and keep taking it, their body responding in the same exact way each time.

The way conditioning works for a being that's meant to be obedient. It's no longer a matter of Whumpee breaking down and becoming obedient, it's a matter of them refusing to be reprogrammed to Whumper's whims - even if everything in their brain is trying to cave in.

The chance for dehumanization to hit even harder. After all, if Whumpee believes themself to be a person, in whatever way "person" can be defined to include them, then what happens when they're shown just how different they are to a real person? What happens when Whumper decides to correct them, no matter what it takes?

[matchingbatbites]

i thee wed

Teen | 2.9k | Female Steve Harrington

A very late submission for @steddie-week Day 5: Reunion/Getting back together, as well as @stevieweek Day 4: Special Outfit.

This fic is too short to be as late as it is, but alas. It was originally supposed to be just runaway bride Stevie showing up to Eddie's home in a huge wedding gown, but somehow Carol wheedled her way into the story, so.

Read on Ao3

Stevie’s mom is doing up the last of the buttons on her dress, each one tiny and pearlescent and perfect against the white lace fabric, when Robin walks up, clearly worried about something.

“Carol's here, and she's asking to talk to you,” she says quietly before Stevie can even ask what's wrong, and oh. She's been expecting this for a while - ever since Tommy proposed, really - but she didn't think Carol would wait until the day of the wedding to actually seek her out. “What do you want me to tell her?”

Stevie hums and thinks for a moment as they smooth out the skirt, as she steps into her heels which are as white and pristine as the rest of her outfit. “I'll talk to her. She deserves that much.”

Robin continues to frown but nods. “She’s in the back hall. I'll keep an eye on everyone here, but scream if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Birdie.”

It's not hard to find Carol, leaning against one of the back walls in an outfit that's too casual to be appropriate for a wedding guest. Stevie still smiles as she approaches, and receives a small one in return. 

“Hi, Carol.”

“Hi, Steph. You look beautiful.”

Stevie huffs and fluffs the a-line skirt again. “Thanks. I'm kind of dying a little, if I'm being honest. I didn't realize how hot this thing would be.”

That earns her a chuckle, and Stevie feels a bit lighter- feels like this might be okay as she asks “So what can I do for you?”

Carol's expression drops, her entire being taking on an air of sadness that almost leaves Stevie breathless. She and Carol haven't really spoken in years, but it's still upsetting to see her so down.

“I'm here because- We were friends once, and I miss that. I miss you.”

Stevie can't stop herself from muttering an “I miss you too,” and Carol pushes herself off the wall. She takes Stevie’s hand in her own and starts to lead them down the hall, slow and meandering.

“You know, after everything went down, I thought I hated you. It felt like I'd been betrayed by two people I thought cared about me, two people I thought I could trust."

That hurts, even though Stevie knows it's true. Tommy and Carol had been together for years before- before. When they broke up it had been a big deal in their social circle. Stevie had honestly never planned on dating Tommy, but then the letter came, and Tommy asked her out, and- and she'd been so lonely.

"It took me a long time to realize that I had nothing against you at all; it was that Tommy dropped me the second he saw a chance to be with you. Just left me like our relationship meant absolutely nothing to him. After that it was pretty easy to come to terms with the fact that I was just a placeholder for Tommy while he waited for you."

She pauses and Stevie glances up to find Carol's sharp gaze locked on her, calculating but not quite cold. "Just like you're using him as a placeholder right now.”

“Tommy's not a placeholder-”

“Eddie's out of jail.”

Stevie freezes on the spot. Carol might as well have stabbed her with the pain that shoots through her chest, the ache that had dimmed in the last four years coming back with a fucking vengeance.

“What?”

“I ran into him last week. He got out a couple months ago. Tried to get in contact with you a few times.”

Steve swallows around nothing and reaches up to grab her necklace, something that only intensifies her pain as her brain screams that it's the wrong shape, that it's not right. 

“I don't know why. He already said everything he had to say to me, right in black and white.”

Carol tugs on her hand, guiding her down the hall once more. “See, I asked him about the letter, and he had no idea what I was talking about. He told me that he sent you dozens of letters, but none of them talked about him being done with you.”

Dozens? Stevie only ever got one letter from Eddie, a single page that ripped her heart to shreds, that crushed every dream she’d had about their life together. “What else did he say?” she can't help but ask, and Carol looks uncharacteristically disturbed.

“He said that Tommy and your parents have been working to keep him away from you. Steph, he said that your dad threatened him. Said that if Eddie did anything to ‘get in the way of your happiness’ that he'd make sure Eddie went back to prison and never came out again.”

Stevie stares at Carol, searching for any hint, any possibility that the woman is lying to her. Even after years apart, she can tell that Carol is telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Carol's smile is a small, sad thing. “Like I said: we were friends, once. I want you to be happy, but more than that, you deserve to know the truth. Tommy being fucked over is just a bonus.”

She gestures to the side and Stevie looks over, out the glass door she hadn't noticed before, and sees a taxi waiting on the curb.

“That's the cab that brought me here. It's ready to take you anywhere you want to go.”

Stevie's heart lurches. She's supposed to be getting married in twenty minutes. Supposed to wear this dress she can't stand and walk down the aisle of a church she didn't choose and go to a reception that's going to be full of her parents' friends so they can show off their daughter's accomplishment.

If she was marrying the man she truly wanted, she might have been able to shove down her frustrations and just deal with it, but Tommy just isn't that man. She knows it in her heart, and when she looks at Carol, Stevie can tell that she knows it too.

And suddenly, none of it matters.

“They're gonna come looking for me.”

Carol smiles. “I'll tell them you stepped out for some air.”

Stevie is overcome by a sudden rush of affection, and she can't resist pulling her old friend into a hug. “I owe you one,” she says, and feels Carol shake her head.

“Consider it my apology for being such a bitch to you after Tommy dumped me.”

“Apology more than accepted.”

They pull apart and Stevie gives her one last smile before heading for the door.

She doesn't really remember the ride to the trailer park; it's all a blur up until the taxi slows to a stop in front of a place that Stevie used to think of as home. She thanks the driver who told her that Carol prepaid for her ride, and then climbs out.

Wayne's truck is out front, so at the very least she'll be able to apologize for not visiting anymore. She knows the man was hurting just as bad as she was when Eddie was put away, but after the letter, she hadn't even been able to look him in the face.

She knocks on the door and shifts in her heels as she waits. What if she’s too late to make things right? What if Carol really was lying and it was all just a means to get her away from the wedding, to ruin her life?

There's barely any time for her thoughts to spiral before the door swings open and she's suddenly face to face with Wayne, the man that she considered to be a better father to her than her own. He certainly seems surprised to see her, but before she can even begin to explain, he turns and calls out “Ed! You got a visitor!” 

Stevie reaches for the older man and tries an “I'm so sorry-” but he shakes his head and takes her hand in his own work-worn ones. 

“There'll be time for that later. I'll give you two some space for now.” He gives her hand a gentle pat before releasing it, grabs his truck keys, and heads out the door and down the steps.

Stevie hears a door open further in the trailer and steps inside just in time to see Eddie stepping into the hall, his sweatpants and tank top an extreme contrast to her lacy, fluffy wedding gown.

She's surprised to see that he's filled out a little, the lankiness he used to have now replaced with a sturdier, stronger frame, and his hair is the shortest she's ever seen it - a bit longer than buzzed now that he's been home for a little while. His eyes are the only thing that haven't changed, still the same deep pools of chocolate she remembers, although they're currently wide in surprise as he registers just who is before him.

“Stevie?”

Stevie gives a single broken “Eddie,” and then they're both moving. They meet in the middle of the tiny kitchen and cling to each other, hands and arms clutching tight like they're both worried the other will disappear if they let go. Stevie can hardly breathe through her sobs, can barely even take a breath with how her face is pressed into the skin of Eddie's neck. 

The man isn't much better- she can feel the way his fingers dig into the fabric of her dress, trying to haul her closer, like the millimeters of clothing between them is still too much distance. Stevie thinks her legs must give out because they sink to the floor, her skirt pooling around them as Eddie just holds her and mutters reassurances- “I've got you baby, I'm here. Never gonna let you go again, princess.”

She doesn't know how long it takes her to stop crying. It’s only when she can actually breathe again that she pulls back enough to cup Eddie's face, to run a hand over his short curls. “Your hair,” she says, smiling through the few tears that still escape her. The man gives her a watery smile and brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face.

“I can’t believe you’re talking about me while you’re over here looking like a Bridal Barbie or something.”

That makes her laugh, and she confesses “You don’t know how much I hate this dress. It’s so awful, Teddy.”

“Let me guess, your mom vetoed the slinky, sexy dress?”

“I thought she was going to have a heart attack right there at the bridal store when I walked out wearing it.”

Eddie shakes his head and rubs his thumb over her cheek. "That's too bad. I bet you looked like a fuckin' dream, sweetheart. Honestly, you still look like a dream, even in this cake topper gown."

Stevie laughs again, and it hits her all at once how much she still loves this man, how undeniably happy he makes her. In the last four years, no one has made her feel the way Eddie did, has even looked at her the way the way he is right now. Tommy only ever looked at her with desire, like a prize to be claimed and flaunted, and her parents never really looked at her at all unless she was doing something to make them look good.

Eddie though. He's always looked at her with wonder, like he can't even believe that he's allowed to be around her, much less have her for his own. She grabs his hands, holds them tight between them.

"I left Tommy at the altar," she says and Eddie's eyes go wide in shock.

"Oh, shit. What, uh. What made you change your mind?"

"Carol came to see me. Told me what you said about him and my parents, about the letter." She pauses and takes a deep breath as tears well up in her eyes again. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have trusted it blindly, I should have believed in you. I promise I was gonna wait for you, and if I'm too late-"

Eddie frowns and rubs a thumb over her knuckles "I told you a long time ago, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Honestly, when I found out you were engaged to Tommy, I thought that I was too late. Thought I'd fucked up too bad and you finally realized you could do better."

Stevie can't help but scoff at that. "Tommy is not better than you. He just- he was there, and he wanted me, and I- I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted someone to love me."

A soft, broken noise escapes Eddie and he tugs her into another hug. She goes willingly, clings to him as he shifts and pulls her into his lap.

"You won't be, baby. Now that I've got you, you won't ever be lonely again, not if I can help it."

"So you still love me?" Stevie asks, her voice wavering on the question that's been plaguing her for years, the question that she needs to know the answer to.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I still love you. You're the girl of my fuckin' dreams, you know? I think I'm always gonna love you."

He loves her.

Eddie still loves her, and it's like something at the center of her being settles into place.

She pulls back just enough to kiss him, deep and desperate and everything she's wanted in the years that he's been gone. She pours every ounce of her feelings into it, her desire, her regret, and she feels like crying all over again as he returns it tenfold.

It feels like coming home, like she can finally relax because she knows Eddie has her, will always have her. He won't brush her off the way Tommy does, won't disregard her opinions or criticize her clothes or-

God, Tommy really was a piece of shit, wasn't he?

Stevie breaks the kiss but doesn't move, lets her lips brush against Eddie's as she says “Do me a favor, baby?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Take me to the courthouse. Make me your wife, please."

Eddie frowns and moves back enough so he can look her in the eye. "Stevie, maybe we should take some time to think about this. I mean- I'm not the same guy you knew when I went away-"

"And I'm not the same girl. Hell, neither of us are those dumbass high schoolers that fell in love over a fucking history project. We've both grown, both changed. But Eddie, our years together were the happiest of my life, and I've gone through all of this wedding planning bullshit wishing I was marrying you instead."

Stevie moves a hand to the back of Eddie's neck and tugs until their foreheads are pressed together, and she can stare into endless pools of Eddie's eyes. "I wanna be your wife, Eddie. We can figure out everything else after.”

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath and nods, mutters a soft "Yeah, okay. I mean, can't say I haven't literally dreamed about it."

"Well, I think we should make some dreams come true, yeah?" She presses a quick kiss to his mouth, not letting it linger before she says "You gotta change though. As hot as you look right now, we can't get married while you're in sweatpants."

They're stopped outside the church by a red light on the way to the courthouse.

Stevie can't help but grin at the sight of people scattering from the building as Tommy stands on the front steps, his face tomato red as he throws what seems to be the mother of all tantrums. Stevie's father is yelling back at him, and her mother is off to the side looking absolutely distressed as Tommy's parents try to calm the two men down.

The van is in the far right lane, giving Stevie a perfect view of the chaos, and a thought crosses her mind. She rolls down the window and shifts until her torso is nearly hanging out of it, and she brings a hand up to her mouth. The whistle is loud enough to cut through the noise, and Tommy and her parents all turn to see her.

He barely gets out a "Steph?" before she chucks the ring he proposed with in his direction. It hits the sidewalk and bounces a couple of times, and she can see when the realization of what it is hits Tommy.

"What the fuck-" he starts, but doesn't finish. Stevie yells a "Fuck you, Hagan!" and flips him off as the light changes and Eddie starts to pull away. She lurches a bit as the van moves and she feels a steadying hand settle on her waist as Eddie cackles behind her.

Stevie settles back in her seat and rolls the window up, and looks over to see Eddie beaming like he just won the lottery. "I fuckin' love you, Stephanie Harrington," he says, and she smiles as their hands lace together.

"I love you too," she replies, wanting nothing more than to cross over the center console and plant herself in Eddie's lap. "And that'll be Stephanie Munson soon, if you can hurry the fuck up."

Eddie laughs again at that and brings their hands up so he can press a kiss to the heirloom ring he'd given her earlier. "Hang on, baby."

Stevie grins as she clings to him, and as the van speeds toward the center of town, she knows she'll hang on to him as long as she possibly can.

Divider Credit

[pendarling]

First Conversation

Admiration was the word they were looking for, but what Hero really said was fear.

"Me? You're scared of me?" Villain cocked their head to the side, "I assumed you were the one to be feared, actually."

Baffled, Hero took a step back. It was their first time truly speaking with Villain. They knew that being within proximity with them meant that they should clash more often, just like everyone was assuming. Still, the truth was they hardly even made contact aside from the eyes. They'd seen the sheer power and force Villain held when fighting against their opponents, and Hero was training for the day they'd come to them. What they didn't expect was that the feeling was mutual; Villain, the greatest force Hero had ever seen, was intimidated by them. All those lucky near misses of running into them and hardly seeing them were not because Hero couldn't get a hold of them but because Villain recognized their presence as threatening.

Hero smiled a soft one that almost broke their ego as it soared through the roof. To be seen as equal or entirely on a different level by their own rival, which they could hardly formulate any possible sentences unless they wanted to risk the chances of looking bad, had been scared of them. "Really?" Hero egged on.

"Really."

It still bothered them quite a bit, however, because unlike what Villain saw as fearful was nothing but a front. Hero worked on staying elusive and quick with their work, which did a lot to make them relatively stronger than what the majority of their enemies assumed. But other than that, Hero really couldn't compare against Villain. For now, they'd have to play along to keep the illusion.

"I've seen the way you've hurled others around you-- sent them crashing into a building and the damages you've caused."

"All an accident, really. I guess I don't know my own strength." Hero raised a brow and lifted their chin. "You, on the other hand, have left far too many of my own peers in the hospital."

They shrugged, "Deserved. They should know by now that I take my job seriously."

"You should try taking a break."

"I'm not exactly surrounded by enough allies to ensure my safety. " Villain licked their lips, "But you'd enjoy it if my guards were down, wouldn't you?"

"You wish I would enjoy anything that you'd do." Hero grew bolder with their words and huffed a small laugh. "You're not exactly guarded well now." They pointed the short sword at them.

Villain brushed their uniform down, "You want to test that theory? Because I can kill you if so desired."

"You don't want that. You've got nobody else to fight then."

"That's true." Villain clicked their tongue. "Wouldn't be as fun without you, and certainly none of your other colleagues are as interesting either."

"Flattering me, Villain?"

"I'm only saying what I'm seeing."

Hero stepped closer, "You're just dying for attention from me, aren't you?"

Villain mimicked their movement and walked closer, their footsteps deathly silent in comparison to their own. They should've felt nervousness at how well Villain was doing against them so far, but it only made Hero admire them more. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long... to crush you."

"Not if I can first. Right onto the ground where you belong." They slowly prowled around Villain as they turned in circles around each other with steady hands clutching onto their blade.

Villain smirked; they'd never seen one like it before, and it made their heart jump. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"With you on your knees crouching in front of me like a dog? Yes, I would."

They laughed lowly. "Aren't you a little too confident to be speaking to me like that?"

Hero's body tensed as they saw Villain move with a speed that nearly knocked them off balance. Their arm was twisted behind them, and to their luck, the sudden jostle had them let their weapon go. It clattered onto the ground as Hero attempted to maneuver out of their grip. They clenched their teeth and went for a punch with their other hand, only for it to be blocked and their wrist caught in the powerful lock. Hero didn't give in just yet, even as Villain's smile widened with amusement, "Look at you, all bark and no bite. Perhaps you're the dog in this relationship."

Hero went for a swift kick, which was avoided as Villain, quick as can be, jumped back. They then went into offence mode and aimed for another hard strike to the guts. Villain barely managed to dodge again and fell right into a pile of wooden carts. Villain's speed seemed to be their most promising feature if they could aim for the legs...

Their head turned, searching for their sword, and Hero dove for it. Villain moved quicker though and caught onto Hero's scheme, "Don't even think about it." They knocked Hero back again before their fingers could graze the handle.

Hero jumped back onto their feet, hardly even affected by the attack, "Don't be scared, Villain." They ran up to them again and threw a series of different moves, forcing Villain to the ledge of the building.

They mockingly raised their hands in defeat, "Alright, you win."

They barely even tried; Hero could tell they were holding back on them. "Are you softening up on me already, Villain?"

"Don't make this out to be anything more than it is." They lowered their arms, "I just didn't want to eliminate you so soon."

"So that's what it is? Pity?"

"Where I'm from, we call it mercy."

"You're so damn full of yourself." Hero spat and stepped back. Although somewhere inside them, they were pleased to be treated so gently by Villain, as though they were something irreplaceable. "You disgust me."  

Hero looked them down with a deep scowl, and in a matter of seconds they found their face in Villain's hand as their chin was raised up. "We both know you enjoy it." Hero grabbed their wrist in an attempt to free themselves, though partially feeling their legs give away to the crippling pressure of their gaze so intensely fixated on them. Was Villain's eyes always this brilliantly dark? They couldn't look away.

"I think you enjoy this more than you're supposed to." Hero smiled. "Should I remind you of where your loyalty is supposed to lie?"

"And should I remind you of what you are to me? Filthy little dog." They sneered and snapped their arm forward, shoving Hero from them. They went stumbling on their feet as Hero stayed ready to continue fighting.

They glided a hand over their cheeks, still feeling the way Villain had their fingers dig into their face. "Filthy? Sorry, Villain, but unfortunately, I'm not into your poor attempts at degradation."

"Are you sure? Because you act like someone who wants to be."

Hero bit their lip. It was almost too tempting, but they weren't ready to drop everything for this yet. "Fuck you." They murmured. "Why don't you keep fantasizing about those things?" They turned around and walked away, their footsteps slow as they felt Villain's eyes would be on them.

"You wish I did."

Hero waved a hand behind them. "I know you do."

~~~

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[love-toxin]

File 11 - Miguel O'Hara

plot: as much as it hurts, he knows you were meant to be together, even if you don't remember the man you once loved.

cws: miguel pov, fem!reader, atsv spoilers, smut mentions, interdimensional romance timelines, lovers -> strangers -> lovers, casual hookups, kids/pregnancy talk, angst + fluff, denial of feelings (man's got it so bad), mutual pining, character death mentions.

word count: 2.8k

Every morning he wakes up without you is torture.

Plain and simple. Torture. Pure, unadulterated torture that cripples his heart each morning he cracks open his eyes and finds the place beside him empty. It's cold even on the hottest nights, bristling the back of his neck no matter how much he sweats in the long summers. It's always been terrible–ever since that day that you, your daughter, and his whole world ceased to exist, Miguel hasn't truly found peace even in passing moments. Eating his favourite meal from the commissary to finding a breakthrough in his plans for the spiderverse, it just doesn't feel right.

And while he'd long gotten used to that feeling, the dull ache has soared into a sting now that he faces you each day he comes into work.

It's not "you" per se–not his version of you–but the you that stands in front of him each and every morning has your face, your smile, your laugh, your cheeky sense of humour, everything. You have everything. Everything except a memory of him, even a shred of it, because as much as he wants you to see him and throw yourself into his embrace, you have no memory of him. You don't see him as a husband, a father, a friend, you see him as Miguel–not to say that you don't also consider him your savior, which you certainly do. He rescued you from a dying dimension that some other hero screwed up, and broke his own rules in doing so because he just couldn't watch you die twice. He still can't bear watching it replay in his mind every time he falls asleep, that first time when he truly wished he had just died alongside both of you to spare himself the pain. To spare himself from hearing your screams and your daughter's terrified sobs as his world disappeared from within his very arms.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he wonders if there was a Miguel in your own dimension. If you loved him or were destined to love him, but you never got the chance to live out your life together. Maybe he was just a normal guy. Not a hero, not a spiderman, not anyone. Just some average joe with a crush on someone he never imagined he could actually settle down and have a family with. Maybe there was–and maybe nothing ever happened because he just simply can't have anything good last in his life.

That's why, despite how heavy that ring feels on his left hand, and how much his heart aches at knowing that you're right there, Miguel goes to bed every night alone. In the beginning he rebuffed you, shut down any ounce of flirtation, didn't even take it when you made lighthearted jokes or someone else did in your place. He can't go through those losses again, but more importantly he can't put you through those losses again. That dimension was one thing, but what he's built here can't be replaced or broken down. He's mapped out the avenues and deduced that if he pursues you, he loses. So instead of allowing himself those simple pleasures of being close to you, he pushed you away so frequently he could tell it was starting to wear on you. You wondered if you even belonged in the society, your delicate self with nothing but a wristband that still didn't always keep you from glitching on occasion.

But that all changed just a few months ago. It's still burned into his brain, that first time–his muscles still itching for the feeling to meet them again. The feeling of you.

It hadn't hit him until then just how long it'd been since he'd taken care of those needs. He'd spent so many long nights with the company of no one, or the satisfaction of nothing but his hand, that the promise of being with a woman again both frightened and exhilarated him. But it wasn't just any woman, because he's well worn out that mat, it was you. You who might not have remembered him, but you remembered the way you two always made love because it came to you so naturally. You pleased him like it was a second skin, did it without even trying and when you did try it was nothing short of heavenly. You were and are godlike in every which way, your body so soft he worries he'll cut you on his own hard, jagged frame, yet so pliable it's second nature to press your knees back to your shoulders and pipe you like you're a pretty little milking cow and he's a raging bull in heat. There's been times he genuinely couldn't help himself and just gave in to his desires to breed you, his cock straining for your deepest, most vulnerable spots that you gladly gave up the moment he begged to knock you up. Yes, begged–he was at your mercy even in his rawest moments, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if the conversations afterward were awkward and filled with cheap laughter as you both sobered up from your lustful haze.

God, you felt so good. Every occasion is better than the last–every chance to feel you pressed against his skin is nothing short of a blessing.

"Mr. Miguel?"

His hand twitches at the interruption of his thoughts, his cup tipping off the desk but stopping with a quick shot of his webs–luckily for him his instincts are still rather crisp, or else he'd be making a mockery of himself in front of the very object of his desires and spilling water all over his floating monitors.

"Mh? Yes?" He turns his head, and there you are in all your radiant glory. Pen tucked behind your ear, outfit of the day clean and prim, eyes sparkling as they always do even when you look at him with concern. How precious. It's just a cup.

"O-Oh, sorry! Nice catch," You add rather hastily before holding out a stack of files, each one labeled and organized by name just as he asked you to do since you started. "Here's the paperwork for the newbies. Do you want it anywhere specific, Mr. Miguel?"

"Set it on the counter there, I'll have Parker look it over. Might busy him and May for awhile." He grumbles that last part under his breath, finally turning around completely from his screens and rolling out his shoulders from hunching so much over them. Fully facing you now is a problem…it's always a problem with how tight this suit can be.

"Oh, you love her, don't even lie." Lie. Lie. Lie. For god's sakes, just lie.

"I tolerate her presence in my workspace."

"Isn't she just adorable, though? She gives me baby fever like mad–don't you feel it too?" One look at you, one shared glance is all it takes in that moment for him to crack.

"...Maybe. Just…a little bit, though." And you just grin. That big, dumb, pretty grin that has him turning away from you in a hurried bid to hide the restlessness stirring beneath his spandex.

That first time was barely memorable in clarity not because of your performance or his, but because you were both drunk out of your minds after Peter's birthday party and couldn't peel yourselves off of each other when he took you back home. You'd gotten on top of him, he'd tugged your dress off, you kissed and the rest was history–rough, drooling, heart-pounding history as you rode his lap and whispered things into his ear that to this day he wishes he had recorded. No precautions, no inhibitions, no worries about your lives as they would go on, just the two of you getting yourselves off and spilling out some foul compliments on the way there. How he loves the way your eyes roll back when you cum and how good his tongue feels inside you, how you want him to finish inside you, please Miguel-

"Don't forget to eat, Miguel. You're still human, you know–not just a worker bot." A pat on his shoulder, a whiff of your perfume, and you're gone again. A wisp of memory that mingles with the heated sweat trickling down his neck as he remembers what you looked like on your knees.

In reality, it's been more than that one time, more than twice or even three times. For a couple months now he's found comfort in you after hours, had his needs taken care of completely by the person that so embodies who he was in love with not so long ago. It's taken him awhile to accept it but he knows for sure that you are that person–you and her are one in the same, the only difference being that you haven't yet fallen for him and started your family together. Well, maybe you have, for all he knows. He can't get his hopes up….not quite yet, at least.

Could you be pregnant already? The idea passes over his head and the mere thought of it pools a heat into his lower stomach that he's quick to drown with a sip of water. It's possible, that's true, but…well, you've certainly forgone protection together a couple times after that first encounter. You could be. But if you are, he's got a whole world of problems coming his way. But it would make him so happy. So would Parker, he'd have a friend for Mayday to play with–but he has to shake it from his mind with total urgency, because that's not his purpose and it's not what he should be focusing on at all. You're a coworker and a fling. Nothing more. A piece of meat to sink his teeth into when he feels the urge, a bloodbag to drink from when you so graciously allow him to, an assistant to shut up and do the work he demands of you without question.

He's trying so hard to convince himself of that that he can barely keep his eyes on the screens. Because the moments where he feels you twitch around him and when he sinks his fangs into your throat during the heat of the moment don't nearly affect him as much as those other moments; the softer ones, the ones where he brushes some hair from your face and you laugh at his cheesy attempt at a joke, when you fall asleep in his arms and he cradles you close like he did when you were married, when he lays awake and ponders not taking you back to your room but keeping you under his arm all night. Warm. Safe. Here. Not just in his memories, but in real life.

Maybe if you did fall in love, and if you did get married, and if you had his child, he'd even get to see his precious Gabriella again. His life. His love. His fingers flicker towards the secure files on his hard drive without him even noticing, and in moments he has those videos up and playing like he hasn't watched them a thousand times over. Those darling smiles and that precious laughter…he would just die to hear it again in real life and not through his speakers, and who's to say it wouldn't happen? If he'd allow himself a moment to indulge, how could he be sure that you wouldn't have Gabi in your lives again if you tried for her? Would you even object if he told you the truth and showed you these videos as proof? You have such a kind heart, he'd struggle to believe you wouldn't offer to give him his dream if you knew it even existed.

But a better question is; is the fate of the spiderverse worth it? Would his act of subverting destiny again ruin even more lives than the ones in his own dimension? Is it worth…..no, it's not worth the risk.

With a sigh, Miguel closes the videos and, for the umpteenth time, hovers his fingers uselessly over the delete key. Those memories of you and her are all he has to cling to, but as always, he's reminded of the cost of dwelling too far on times he'll never get to relive. Gabi's gone, you are gone, and no matter how often he entertains it in his mind he'll never have the life he wants back. Ever. It's just not possible, and it's not fair to expect the sacrifices of every other hero in these dimensions while avoiding his own. He has to be a pillar of strength, even though it feels like he'll always be worthless as his hand lowers and he moves the files back into his storage. Gabi's voice crying out "Gotcha, papi!" on that last video as she smushes her dessert into his face, his gaze halting as he watches his past self and his daughter laughing while you hold the camera. You're so beautiful you transcend your own image; your mere presence is absolute beauty and the thought of you is as pure as the joy in those videos.

"She's adorable, too."

In a split-second, Miguel's head whips over his shoulder and he locks eyes with the one person who he swore he could never let see these videos–you. You, who clearly didn't leave when he thought you had, and had casually wandered up behind him completely unnoticed as he got wrapped up in the past. Like a man possessed, he throws his hand out to slam the pause command on the hologram and stop you from witnessing any more, because if you realize that it's you that's also in this scene, then…well, he has no idea what to do, then.

"Y-You weren't supposed to–puta madre–I thought you left, what're you doing sneaking around?" A twinge of guilt hits him at the rejection that dims your eyes, but you lighten up almost as fast and skirt around him to peer closer at the video, still paused on himself and his daughter propped up on his shoulders.

"Nothing. Is this your daughter?" You ask it so casually he almost falls victim to offense rising inside him, up until he reminds himself that the you he's talking to isn't Gabriella's mother. You have no recollection of her, and it…it's very difficult not to want to talk your ear off about her like she's still here, and he's still her papi.

"I…yes, this is–was–my daughter-"

"Gabriella?" Your eyes flick up towards the file name, something unusually placid about your gaze.

"Yes…Gabriella. Gabi."

The silence beckons him into anger, to turn to rage in the absence of a proper answer to this predicament. But instead of raising his voice and shouting you away, he waits and watches you watching the hologram because it isn't moving, but there's something there. Dare he consider that the depth of your gaze is because there's some flicker of recognition in your eyes? This video is, after all, from your perspective, so would it be so far-fetched to think that maybe you might be seeing yourself in that little girl that shares your smile?

"...Y'know, I miss people from my world, too." You finally turn your head to look up at him, your head full of clouds like always. "It's not all bad to reminisce, Miguel."

I know that. That's what he wants to say, how he wants to react; with a bitter amount of snark that would turn a lesser companion away. But for now, for once, he just shuts his mouth and turns his eyes away. He can't bear to meet your gaze no matter how much he wants to bask in it.

"Are you busy tonight?"

"I…I don't think I have plans." Those words choke themselves out of him by force but they don't turn you off. The heat on your skin, the furrow of your brow…somehow you're only dialed all the way up.

"Mmh. Sounds good. Let's hang out, yeah? I'll help you loosen up." You pat his shoulder with more impact this time, you actually mean it this time as you step down to take your leave. But you're not gone yet, you still linger for him to wish you were and weren't all at the same time. When you look at him, as conflicted as he feels, all he sees are stars in your eyes. "....Gabriella, right? It's a really cute name. I like it."

Maybe you know. You giggle just as sweetly as the you in that tape–maybe if you don't know, it's just as good. Regardless of who he was and who you were before all this, despite everything, he still has you. That's more than he could ask for in any world, and in any lifetime.

[sejanusarchive]

“Your own father used to say those people only drank water because it didn’t rain blood” vs two district boys who are assumed to be murder machines, yet prove that statement wrong multiple times: Reaper and Marcus.

PART ONE: REAPER

When Reaper is first introduced to us, we learn he’s rangy but muscular; we read about him wrapping his hands around Coriolanus’s throat on the truck headed to the zoo and about Dill, his District partner, saying he has killed a Peacekeeper before in District 11, without ever getting caught. 

Our first impression of him is that of a dangerous person, one who’s even clever in his lethality, and because of that we know he’s a presumed possible victor.

Lucy Gray mentions him more than once as one of the biggest threats, when talking about how she’s going to try as hard as she can to win the Games.

She also tells Coriolanus how Reaper apologized to the other tributes for having to kill them and told them he is going to make it up to them after, by taking revenge on the Capitol. Everyone takes this as him meaning it maliciously and with arrogance, ‘cause how else could he possibly mean it, right? Coriolanus thinks that he’s not only powerful, but good at mind games too. 

But the truth is that Reaper meant that genuinely, even with a certain innocence, and naivety to how it could have been misinterpreted. There was no malice or arrogance in his statement, but there was guilt and regret and grief, because of being forced into taking lives. He went into the arena fully prepared and resigned to kill the others to save himself, but not without obvious dissent.

When the Games start, he arms himself and heads to the stands. Coriolanus thinks he does so to begin his hunt, even if everyone else had fled in other directions and he had made no move to go after them.

Right after this we read about how Tanner, someone who’s also a presumed possible victor, is able to climb up to the first row of the stands and sit in the sun for a while, completely unbothered and unharmed. Reaper doesn’t try to fight him, even if it would have only been to his advantage, since he could have easily taken out his strongest opponent now that the Games had just begun and he wasn’t exhausted and starving.

His first interaction with another tribute in the arena is with a dying Dill, carrying her out of the tunnels, placing her in the sun and talking to her in the last moments of her life. 

His first act with another tribute, is comforting a dying child. 

This is when the “murder machine” image starts to crumble. Coriolanus’s classmates talk about how he doesn’t look so tough, doesn't look like the person who “promised to kill all the others”, which he never actually did.

But still, after all this, Coriolanus sees his distressed pacing around Dill, as him possibly being “eager to get back to the hunt”, a hunt he never even began, and not just him feeling pained and powerless at Dill’s condition. 

When Coriolanus is sent into the arena to get Sejanus out, Bobbin, Mizzen, Tanner and Coral are the tributes who go after them to try to kill them. No sign of Reaper at any point.

When Lucy Gray gets out of the tunnels with a rabid Jessup after her, he makes no move to kill them either. Coriolanus points out how he lets Lucy Gray go and only walks up to the bottles of water on the ground.

Again and again and again, he has a chance to easily take a life to save his own, or take a small revenge against the Capitol, but he doesn’t. 

His second interaction with a tribute is with Lamina. He walks up to her, they negotiate an exchange of something both of them desperately need and that forms a bond between the two of them.

Then Coral, Mizzen and Tanner appear and he leaves, he goes behind the barricade and he falls asleep.

When he comes back out, he’s shocked to see Lamina and Tanner dead on the ground. And this is when he starts to make true his promise of avenging the tributes after their death. 

He lifts Lamina up in his arms and places her next to Marcus’s and Bobbin’s corpses and then collects Tanner, Dill and Sol as well, and covers them all with the flag of Panem. And he keeps doing this with all the tributes for the rest of the Games, right until his death. 

This is the best form of revenge he could take. Not only because he disrespects the flag, causing great disdain among Capitol citizens, but most importantly because he humanizes the tributes and gives them dignity, two things the Capitol has tried in every way to take away from them. He gives them as proper a burial as he can manage in those circumstances, makes it so now they can finally rest, tucked in a corner and covered, their corpses no longer on display for a bunch of sick people’s amusement. He honors them. He could have left them all scattered out on the dusty arena ground, but he didn’t. He took care of them.

Even when it’s just him and Lucy Gray left and he’s one step away from winning, he shows no signs of wanting to attack her. Doesn’t matter that he could easily take her out, save himself and finally go home. No, even then his main concern is that the tributes can properly rest with their corpses concealed. 

Everyone expected him to kill the most people, but he died in that arena killing no one and without ever even attempting to. He died holding strong to his humanity and making sure the fallen tributes could hold strong to theirs as well even in death.

Contrary to what we and the Capitol are made to believe initially, Reaper turns out to be pretty innocuous. He’s not a naturally violent or aggressive person, not a natural born killer and he refuses to be as well. This was a life or death situation and yet he didn’t even harm anyone. He has killed before, he is capable of it, but if he didn’t even do it in this case, even when all it would have taken for him to save himself was killing a girl smaller and younger than him, then imagine how dire and desperate the situation must have been when he had to resort to it.

He defied the Capitol by not participating in the Games, by not letting them turn him into the murder machine they wanted and expected him to be, and by honoring the corpses of the children whose lives have been so cruelly and unjustly cut short.

(Before moving on to Marcus, I wanna clarify some things in case anyone who’s reading this has only seen the movie. Reaper snapping at Clemensia during the one-on-one mentor-tribute interviews never happens in the book, neither does him looking angrily into the camera in the arena and challenging the Capitol to punish him arrogantly. Like we’ve just seen, this perceived arrogance and aggression in Reaper is a very surface level misconception of the people around him, that’s easily debunkable, that who made the movie took and ran with wrongfully. 

And actually there’s a few heartbreaking scenes in the book that contrast heavily with the image the movie created of him, like him tying a piece of the flag around his shoulders like a cape and spinning around, watching it fly behind him, and then running in the sun with his arms spread wide; and him rocking gently back and forth on himself for comfort, after the snake attacks, which is not when he dies in the book. He’s not the threatening, angry guy who tests the Capitol that they made him in the movie, he’s just a severely traumatized kid. Nothing more than a kid.

The movie made tons of stupid changes like this, that completely miss and disregard the whole point of both characters and story. Trust me when I say 99% of the characters are portrayed very wrongfully in it. So please keep that in mind.)

PART TWO: MARCUS

Marcus, like Reaper, was initially seen as a probable winner in the Games, before being murdered. Coriolanous makes note of his size multiple times, describing him as “towering”, as having a “colossal frame”, as “dwarfing the other tributes” and comparing him to a grizzly bear. 

It’s exactly because of his size that people think of him as a sure winner, as capable of taking down everyone else, as threatening and deadly.

But then we hear Sejanus, the only person who actually got to know him at some point, talk about him, and the first and one thing he mentions about Marcus is his kindness. 

He tells Coriolanus how when they were still classmates in Two, he hurt his finger really badly and Marcus helped him by bringing him a cup of snow he scooped from the windowsill. He says he did it without being prompted by anyone, without consulting anyone, not even the teacher, and without even being friends with Sejanus. 

That’s actually the very first thing Sejanus tells us about him. They weren’t enemies, but they weren’t friends either. Marcus had no real reason to do it, especially considering how the Plinths were, and still are, deeply despised in Two, for having helped the Capitol win the war. He did it almost as a reflex, because that’s who he is as a person. 

And this pure, unconditional kindness, told by the one person who actually knew him, goes against the image of him everyone formed by just looking at him, against what everyone assumed because he’s district, he’s a tribute, and he’s tall and strong and broad, so he has to be dangerous and lethal, he will brutally kill everyone to save himself, he’s capable of it anyway.

As I already said, the Plinths are deeply despised in Two, Sejanus is a filthy traitor in his eyes, one who’s benefiting from a luxurious, safe life in the Capitol, thanks to blood money; blood of thousands of what were supposed to be his people, blood whose spillage made them lose the war and caused the realization of the Games, bringing Marcus to that very situation.

Sejanus doesn’t have to worry about whether or not he’s going to be able to fill his stomach everyday; whether he’ll be able to finish his studies or will have to drop out of school early to go work to help sustain his family; whether the dangerous working conditions will be the cause of his early demise or being sent to an arena to kill or be killed by a bunch of other children for amusement will be, and what will happen to his family once he’ll be gone. All of this thanks to his family’s betrayal.

No doubt he resents Sejanus and is angry at him, a part of him maybe even faults him a bit for everything, but he never takes it out on him. It would be easy to single him out, pick him and make him pay for this situation, since he can’t make the whole Capitol pay; take some sort of revenge on Strabo Plinth in the name of Two and Thirteen and all other Districts, by harming his son. 

Sweet Sejanus, who brings the tributes food when no one else thought about it, who keeps pleading with him to accept it, who tries to help them however he can, would probably let him do it. He would take the hit, metaphorical or not, because it’s clear he has guilt gnawing at him and would feel like he deserves it. And Marcus is definitely aware of it. 

But he never gets violent, physically nor verbally, never tries to attack him or spit insults or hate at him. Instead he just ignores him.

He had many chances to do harm, even to kill Capitol citizens and Peacekeepers as revenge, a small and trivial one, but still a revenge, and he had many chances to let his frustration and anger out on Sejanus and use him as a punching bag, but he never did, because despite what everyone assumed about him, that’s not the type of person he is.

PART THREE: SEJANUS 

Sejanus, whom I’ve already mentioned several times in this post, is another District boy with the ability to take lives, but who’s repulsed and disturbed by the mere idea of it. 

With Marcus and Reaper, it’s a matter of first impressions and then getting to actually know them and learn they’re not like they seemed. With Sejanus it’s the opposite. 

First thing we learn about him in the book is his background: born in District 2, his father made fortune during the war and was able to buy his family a life in the Capitol. 

But the first thing we learn about him as a person is that he’s shy and sensitive. 

Throughout the entirety of the book, over and over and over again, we see that he’s good, and kind, and gentle, and sweet and takes things so to heart. It’s constantly pointed out by the people around him. 

And it’s constantly shown to us by him as well, with the passion he puts into standing up against the dehumanization and mistreatment of District people; with how affected he is by these aspects and by the Games; with how he tries in every way he can to help the tributes; with how he made it his life mission to make things better for the Districts; with how he’s never mean or spiteful to people who bully and disrespect him.

Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is at its very center a discussion on human nature. He (alongside Dr. Gaul) is the main character who explicitly talks about it, and he believes in the inherent goodness of humans and constantly advocates in favor of it. All the injustice and atrocities he witnessed, never made him change his mind or his actions, never made it so compassion and love weren’t his driving forces.

His heart is big, and kind, and pure. And he wears it on his sleeve all the time. He’s referred to as “emotional” and “compassionate”, his eyes are soulful, his face is incredibly expressive, and there’s so many instances in which he’s described as speaking with a voice so full of sentiment, so many instances of his eyes filling with tears, of him wiping his face cause they spilled out. 

It’s well established how good and uncorrupted he is, how devoted to humanity he is, how much he values life.

And then in the third part of the book, we learn he’s an excellent marksman, a natural one even, who has been training in shooting every week since he was tiny.

He’s so good, that the sergeant in Twelve, as to not lose someone with Sejanus’s ability, refuses to give him the recommendation he needs in order to train to become a medic, even when Sejanus purposefully shoots much worse than he’s capable of, to hide his talent. 

The boy who values life more than anything in the world, has the ability to take one even with his eyes closed.

When he arrived in Twelve, wearing on his body the signs of the toll the Capitol, the Games and what happened to Marcus had taken on his mental health, with the prospect of building a new life for himself in which he could help the world become a better place, of training to be a medic and save lives, Coriolanus noted he had a much lighter air to himself, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of him.

But when he is confronted with the reality that he is now a soldier and is expected to kill, Coriolanus says that his expression goes back to being as gloomy as it had been in the Capitol, the heavy weight now back on his shoulders. 

At dinner he doesn’t take a single bite of food, which is a behavior we’ve seen from him before, one he falls into when his mental health gets concerningly bad. And the reason is that he is terrified by the idea of having to kill someone, or someone dying because he can’t bring himself to shoot first. Because to him, every life is precious and none is disposable, and the possibility of being the cause of one being taken away, is an unbearable thought.

Reaper and Marcus had many chances and what could be considered reasons to kill, but they refused to. Sejanus, who is expected to kill because he’s a soldier and the best shooter, who would be punished, possibly even with execution, if he didn’t, refuses to. 

All three of them have the power to take lives with little effort but choose to cherish and honor them instead, choose kindness, choose humanity even over their own self preservation, proving both the Capitol and Crassus Snow’s statement about District people being bloodthirsty, wrong, by simply being their honest, uncorrupted selves until the end, by being truthful to who they are no matter what.

[murderthegods]

One thing I really like about I Saw the TV Glow that I don't see people talking about is the specific tone that "there is still time" takes on in it. Lots of people talking about that line ofc, but I see everyone talking about it as though it's unambiguously and only a message of hope.

The obvious thing to take away from "there is still time" is of course that you can still save yourself. As long as you haven't died yet, you still have a chance. You don't have to die like this. You can still live your life. And that's not not the point of the line ofc, but I'd argue it's missing something, and that's that you haven't left yet.

This is the movie about the fear of the known, the horror of there being no monsters, the fear of waiting. And in that context, a message of reassurance that I can afford to wait a little longer is awful! I don't want to wait any longer! I know I'm going to wait for as long as I can, but I want out! Obviously it's better than not having any time at all, but only because that would be the train hitting me. "There is still time" means I'm standing on the tracks like a deer in the headlights, and the train might be miles away but I can see it and I can feel in my bones that I can't move yet - or that I won't - and a voice tells me that I'll be fine, I can afford to stay on the tracks a little longer, it'll be fine, I'm not dying yet, it's fine, there is still time, but every second I still have time is a second I still can't breathe.

I've lived my entire life haunted by deadlines and the lack thereof, and to me the phrase "there is still time" contains just as much dread as the rest of the movie. If there weren't any time, then I could just, I dunno, power through it. I've written enough essays the night before, it's not fun, I hate it actually, but as long as I still have time I know from experience that I'm not going to do it yet. If I were on my deathbed then I could just make my dying words "I was a girl the whole time" and I wouldn't have to deal with any of the consequences because I'd be dead. In a way, that's the easy way out. Which, y'know, is the whole point! If I wait until I don't have any time left to start living, then I almost may as well have not done anything! That's what the movie is scared of.

I do actually have time, it is genuinely fine if I don't do anything right this second, or tonight, or this month, but how many years do I want to let that add up? I don't want to spend another year like this, much less ten! The scary thing isn't the idea of "dying like this" - how I am at the moment of my death is almost immaterial compared to how I am in all the years I'll have before then! The scary thing is every day I spend being like this, and none of them individually are all that scary but all of them is terrifying! I can't believe that I don't have time because it's not true and because then I'd be so paralyzed with fear and despair I wouldn't do anything, but if I actually fully believed that I did have time, I'd do what Owen did!

The more I think about it the more odd it seems that people are latching onto the phrase "there is still time" as a message of hope. It is pretty objectively a true statement in this context and it's even pretty inarguably hopeful, but it's also kinda obviously a phrase that can only be meant to encourage inaction. The point of it is that you don't have to do anything (yet). In a movie that we can all see is clearly about how you need to do something! It's created a fascinating environment where people say "There is still time, so go on hrt today!" seemingly without spotting any contradiction! If there's still time, I may as well start tomorrow, right?

Yes, if you don't believe you have time, if you believe your life is already over, then you're probably not going to do anything to improve it, but equally as much, who would ever take a risk to improve their life now if they think they have all the time in the world?

[animeyanderelover]

For shit and giggles what if older sister reader drink the poisonous tea meant for yui by reiji what he doesn't know is the side effects is making the person that drink it in the younger age so now reader is the same age as yui and don't have any memory of the brother she still cares about yui a lot calling her a precious friend tearing her like a sibling she never had and get angry at the sakamaki brothers when they try to manipulate her

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, clinginess, delusional behavior, paranoia, manipulation, isolation

A sip of poisonous tea

Shu Sakamaki

🎵​The only reason why Reiji hasn't been violently assaulted by all the younger siblings after that incident is because Shu is one of the few who have held them back. He is not doing it out of brotherly love though as he himself understands the urge some of the other Sakamaki brothers feel. However, he also understands that Reiji has the best chances of finding a remedy to return you to your original form. He won't lie though, it is hard at times to control the violent urge to hurt his younger brother for what he has done. You were the only person Shu has ever felt truly peaceful with as you were the only one who he willingly told everything that was a burden on his soul. Now that you have lost all your memories though, Shu experiences true loneliness but he can't even show that as the gates to his heart completely close. When he realises that you are not able to recall anything about him, he stops trying to maybe trigger a memory of yours. Shu decides to avoid you for a while as the hollow pain in his chest only gets stronger when he watches you and that human girl together, although he still ends up torturing himself by secretly watching you from the distance.

Reiji Sakamaki

☕​Reiji is the one who takes the hardest emotional blow because he is the one who prepared that poisonous tea to get rid of that girl that was stealing your attention. He could have never predicted that you would actually try that tea for her yet you did and now all of your memories are gone. You're gone. He wants to blame that girl and he would have almost murdered her if it wouldn't have been for Kanato having his meltdown and trying to hurt Reiji. Yet a part of him is unable to protect his own ego and pride as he realises that he is also partially responsible for it even if he tries to make Yui the sole scapegoat of this situation. To think that he would be the one to do such a thing to his own beloved sister is a burden unspeakably heavy and there is a tight knot of fear and panic in his chest that makes him feel like he is slowly dying. Unable to live with the thought that he ruined you who he has always idolised and who has always been perfect in his eyes, he completely locks himself away in his chambers and sometimes doesn't leave his room for day. His sanity is on the brink of shattering but he has to find an antidote. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to look at himself in the mirror anymore.

Ayato Sakamaki

🥇​If it wouldn't have been for Laito stopping him from breaking Reiji's neck, he would have committed murder right then and there. How dare the bastard to poison you and take you away from him?! The only reason why he stops wanting to kill Reiji for now is that he understands that the older brother is the only one who can also create an antidote. That doesn't stop him from knocking violently on the door leading to Reiji's chambers once or twice a day and asking him pissed if he has done finally something useful, barely able to suppress the urge to just kick the door open violently. Ayato will be quite persistent with you though because he just can't accept that you have lost all of your memories. How can you forget him? You have always praised him and cheered him up and now you dare to forget him and replace him with that stupid human girl? He attempts to monopolise all of your time to separate you from Yui and try to awaken your memories by retelling you all of his achievements and showing you what he can do. His mind is just blown that you seem to have forgotten him, your favorite brother from the entire bunch... In his mind at least.

Kanato Sakamaki

🧸​Together with Reiji he has the worst reaction to you losing all of your memories and turning to the same age as Yui. He has to be physically restrained and dragged away from Reiji as he screeches and screams promises of death to him. His mental condition has always been quite fragile but that was what you were for. You were always there to comfort him and hold tea parties with him and Kanato has always been so incredibly attached to you. Now you have forgotten him though and instead treat Yui like she is your sibling and his mentality is thoroughly shot after that incident. He in fact acts so extreme that his other brothers have to keep him away from you as he even tries to break into your bedroom. He's sure that you will remember him if he brings you to his room where the both of you have always held the tea parties and ties you to a chair to keep you from running away. Kanato has just completely lost it since you were the sole anchor who could control him enough for him to not be too crazed. But now that you have forgotten, there is no one who can protect others from Kanato as well as protect him from himself.

Laito Sakamaki

​🎹​Laito has some rather gruesome fantasies about what he would like to do with Reiji but he keeps it all within the realm of imagination for now. He is after all quick to recognise that Reiji has the highest chances of undoing all the effects the poison had on you. He hopes that the bastard suffers as much as possible for messing up so majorly in the first place though. His inner demons are hidden pretty well though when he approaches you though as he tries to find a way to make the best of the situation. You have forgotten everything which means that as long as you are so clueless, he may as well try to gain your favor. Laito is quite good in hiding his true intentions as he tries to get you away from that little bitch you spend so much time with. To his bittersweet delight you have kept your sharp intelligence even at such a young age though so his attempts to play the good guy fail as you get even more protective of Yui as if sensing that Laito might otherwise plan something. Just because he has failed doesn't mean that he will leave you alone though. He will interfere whenever he can and squeeze himself in every moment you want to have with Yui alone. Please, don't forget him...

Subaru Sakamaki

​⬜​Subaru is in a way in a similar situation as Shu. You were the only one he felt safe wnough around to express all of his emotions, even his vulnerability. Now that you have forgotten him though, he has no one anymore who he can tell about all of the crying sadness inside of him. So he ends up trying to push it all down but this leads to an outburst of violence and hot tears sooner or later when he is alone. He despises Reiji for having done something like this to you. He has never really liked him before to begin with but now he just really wants to rip his limbs apart from his body. He can barely hold back though with the promises of the other brothers that Reiji will find a cure to your current condition. He hates that he doesn't know how to act anymore around you because not only have you lost all your memories but you are physically younger now than even him. It just seems all so strange in his mind but the greatest suffering he receives is your new attachment to the human girl. He is always boiling when he watches how you play with her as he recalls that you used to do the same with him and eventually has to tear his gaze away from you, on the verge of another outburst.

[billthedrake]

LITTLE BRO'S HOMECOMING

Joseph Murphy didn't even have to knock on the hotel door. He'd texted Kyle to get the room number and as he strode up to 1139 in the downtown Boston hotel, the door opened right up.

Kyle was dressed in his Marines cammies - either he hadn't had time to change since checking in or else he wanted to be in uniform for the older man. A big smile formed on the 21 year old's face. "Hey," he muttered as he stepped aside to let the beefy cop enter.

"Hey yeuself," Joe hissed in his thick New England accent as he stepped right up to the young Marine and placed his hands around the stud's waist, drawing him in.

Their kiss was hot. A tongue heavy, facing sucking kind of kiss. Officer Murphy didn't do finesse, and it turns out Kyle Smith was A-OK with that. It had been TOO long since they'd been together, or even seen each other. They'd had a conversation before Kyle's deployment about whether they were dating. The cop didn't feel comfortable with that, and Joe hadn't even reached out to the Marine over the last few months. It was only an instant reply that Kyle received when he said he was coming home that made him realize there was still a spark there.

More than a spark. Officer Murphy was pawing at the ridge of hard military cock in the camo pants. And Kyle was feeling up all the cop beef through the man's long-sleeve Pats T-shirt. THIS was the young man's type to a T. Some heft on his bones, thick muscle, a beer belly. It had been the body Kyle had been into since he first started jacking off. Joe reminded him of his middle school wrestling coach - and even, if he was honest, of his own father.

Officer Murphy was even a dyed-in-the-wool working class New Englander like Kyle's father, only more brash even.

Indeed, the booming voice came as he backed off. "How's my fuckin' parn stah doin?" the cop bellowed, fingers tracing the long ridge of Marine meat sticking up in the uniform.

"Holy fuck, I missed you, man," Kyle said with a big grin. Maybe that was too much to say, but he felt it.

"I bet ya did," Joe said as he crouched down, fingers already fumbling with the uniform. "I know how to take care of this bad boy."

The cop's fingers felt good as they undid the trousers. "Are we gonna wait?" Kyle asked. "I mean, we said..."

Already the cop's big mitt was on the young stud's boner, pulling it out and gently stroking it. "You got a couple in ya, Corporal," he growled. "Come on, Jesus, four months and ya gonna fuckin' blue ball me?"

Officer Murphy didn't give Kyle a chance to answer. The question was rhetorical anyway. Because already he was taking the thick, long tool into his mouth.

"Oh fuck... fuck yes," Kyle hissed as he felt the police officer's hot wet mouth go down on him. The cop sucked dick like he kissed. No finesse. But it was amazing, especially after no sex for the last four months.

The Marine didn't realize he was carrying around so much tension in his body, but as Joe blew him, he felt himself relax, his stance widening just a little and his hand placed gently on top of the man's medium-short hair. He'd experienced a Joe Murphy BJ in full Boston Police uniform. THAT had been incredible, but even now he loved looking down on the man's thick-set daddy bod, face getting redder as he bobbed up and down more quickly. Kyle was still in full uniform, for his part, and he suspected that was driving Joe wild.

"It's not gonna take me long," Kyle warned.

The cop spit out his cock. "Dont ya dare, buddy." He wiped the spit off his chin with the back of his hand and leaned back. Kyle loved that view of him, the way it showed off Officer Murphy's broad rounded shoulders and massive chest.

Kyle knew what the man meant. He actually didn't have a lot of experience with other men. He'd met Joe Murphy when he was still 18, still a senior in high school. But the sex was electric between them. Joe was such a deeply sexual man, and the cop's hunger for a younger top, a much younger top, fueled Kyle's own lust.

"On the bed, Officer," he hissed.

Joe broke into a huge grin. Standing up, he started undoing his jeans and kicking off his sneakers.

"Keep that fuckin' unifo'm on buddy," he growled.

Kyle nodded. "That's 'Corporal Smith' to you, Officer."

"All right, Corporal," Joe chuckled. "Don't hold back. Just go for it, OK?"

Kyle was getting lightheaded now, he was so horny. Especially seeing Murphy pull off that T and reveal that beefy daddy bod. His big brother had teased him once when he showed him a picture of his cop lover. "You a chaser, Kyle?" Brandon had laughed. Kyle stood his ground those. The beer belly on such a meaty frame did something for him. He liked having a lot of daddy to hold onto.

That lot of daddy was naked now and crawling onto one of the queen beds on all fours. Kyle got in place.

"Aw yeah, eat my hole, Corporal. Aw, fuck yeah... root around with that tongue buddy. Get up in daddy's ass. Oh, fucking nasty, buddy."

Kyle remembered the first time he rimmed Joe Murphy he was worried the man would get freaked out. But it was one of Kyle's favorite things to watch in porn, so he just went for it. As they say, history was made. He and Joe rarely had sex without some ass eating.

Still, both knew it wasn't going to be a long rim session. Their absence had been too long. Kyle leaned back up on his haunches and gave a light slap to the cop's surprisingly smooth rump. Leaning over, he pumped out a couple of squirts of lube, which he applied to his boner, and then to Joe's hole.

The cop wasn't exactly slutty, but he was wanton in taking taking cock. Spreading his legs and wiggling his ass some as Kyle fingered him. Then, as Joe felt that thick piece of Marine cock bore in, he hissed and did his best to relax.

"Easy, buddy... easy... I'm fuckin' tight... ya gotta open daddy back up for business OK?"

"Yeah," Kyle hissed. He didn't want to cum yet. He knew if he could get through the penetration he'd be good for a bit.

Joe's verbal streak quieted down as Kyle slowly penetrated the older man. Murphy had lied about his age when they first met on the app, but the cop was 50. Squarely middle aged. The young man sometimes wondered why he was wired for older men, men like Murphy. But now that he was boning Joe, he didn't feel the need to question, his heart and mind and cock knew this is what he wanted.

Finally his balls pressed against the man's ass.

"God, yes," the Marine hissed. THIS was what a homecoming should be.

"I can feel your uniform against me, Corporal," Joe said in a surprisingly quiet tone. "So very hot."

Kyle held the man's waist. The skin was hot to the touch. "I dreamed about doing this in the barracks," he hissed. "Even fantasized about banging the Master Sergeant."

That got a chuckle from Joe beneath him. "I bet ya did, buddy. Just as I've had the hots for the new rookie on the force. Fresh faced fucker."

Kyle pulled back and pushed back in. Not fast, not yet. But he could feel the cop's insides open up for him, some.

"Anyone else fucking you, Joe?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

The reply was quiet. "A couple, Kyle," the cop answered. "It gets lonely, you know."

"Yeah," Kyle said, sadly. He wished he was the only one. But they'd never had that conversation. This was probably not the time to have it. "Man, I wish we didn't live so far apart."

The next thrust was hard, real hard. It knocked the wind out of Joe a little, and if Kyle hadn't fucked the cop like this before he would have been concerned.

"Give me a sec," Joe finally hissed.

Kyle slowed his roll and watched as the man reached over for his own squirt of lube.

The Marine didn't need to be told to resume fucking. That's how it was between him and Joe. Perfect synchronization of needs. The minute he saw the man reach down to jerk his cock, Kyle started fucking hard. Jack hammer thrusts in and out of the man's now relaxed hole.

"That's it, stud... horse hung Marine gonna fuck my cop ass..."

"Fuckin' take it, Officer," he hissed. Getting into it.

With other men Kyle had fucked it wasn't like this. It was usually fucking for his own pleasure or for the bottom's. But he and Joe Murphy were on the same wavelength, the older man rapidly jerking while Kyle threw his strength into hard fucking the beefy daddy.

Just the sight of the man's bare back, strong and full, and the love handles and the way Joe's face turned redder when he was getting close to cumming. Kyle felt that light headed feeling again and knew the cum was already traveling up his piss tube, pumping out from his balls.

"Oh FUCK!" he whimpered.

"SHIT!" Joe grunted.

Their orgasm was simultaneous. Kyle's body clenched and held still as his dick continued to unload inside the man. It had actually taken a few times to talk Officer Murphy into barebacking, but now he couldn't imagine sex between the two any other way. This was just sex, and it was just the hormones talking, but Kyle was in love with the man.

He started to pull back, but he saw Joe's hand reach back, as if to stop him. "Don't, Kyle... stay in me for a while longer, OK?"

The Marine nodded and placed his hand softly on Joe's lower back, feeling up the clammy sweaty muscle. He wondered if his dick was going to go soft. It usually did after a cum like that, but being connected with the police officer meant it still felt rock hard.

***

Brandon Smith waited in the hotel bar, sipping his beer. He was always a little nervous waiting for Preston, but he was getting that pit-in-his-stomach now. Maybe this was a bad idea.

But it only took the sight of his sorta boyfriend in the mirror to brighten up. Preston Weldman cut the vision of a real executive, as tall as Brandon, and his figure looking fit in slacks and a sport coat. The gray temples were the icing on the cake, so to speak. Brandon felt an instant chub in his jeans.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long," the business exec said as he sidled up to the hunky 32-year-old. He placed a hand on Brandon's shoulder. Not obvious but the touch felt electric between the two men.

"No," Brandon shook his head. "Anyway, it's good people watching here," he said.

Preston smiled. "Scoping out the business daddies?" he whispered. He knew Brandon's type. It was how they'd met each other on an app when Brandon was back home visiting family. Leaning in more, he growled. "You're looking really good, Sergeant Smith."

Brandon's heart pounded. "SO good to see you, Press." That had been his nickname for the man. Then, his eyes sweeping up and down, something clicked. "You're not wearing your wedding ring?"

Preston shrugged. "You disappointed?" he joked. "The divorce isn't final but it feels like it, you know?"

Brandon nodded and with concern asked, "How you doing?"

"We'll talk about it later, OK? We have the whole weekend, right?"

Brandon smiled. Long distance was tough, and there was military life on top of that. But maybe that's what worked for this divorced hunk. He had his own busy career to deal with, and his kids, too. "Yeah. I have some stuff I wanna talk about too."

"Yeah?" Preston replied. "You wanna talk about it now, kiddo?"

Brandon shook his head. "I think the guys are up in the room waiting for us."

Preston's lust was visible on his face, even if he normally had that WASPy repressed thing going on. "Sure you're OK with this?"

Brandon laughed. "I was gonna ask you the same thing, Press." He stood up and set down some cash to pay for his beer. "It'll be way hot."

"You're bringing out my naughty side for sure." Preston was definitely in a good mood.

Brandon leaned in and whispered. "How do you think I feel? He's my brother." Then he pulled back and gave a wink to the man before grabbing his overnight bag. "Come on, let's go up."

Even on the elevator ride up, the two couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Preston still couldn't believe he'd scored a young man as hot as Brandon Smith. 6'3" ex-football jock, his body honed by years in the US Marine Corps. The 26-year-old was like a porn character come to life. The superstitious, or realist, part of Preston knew this affair was on borrowed time, that Brandon would move on. But he'd sure as hell enjoy the ride.

***

Joe had dozed off but the knock on the hotel room woke him up. He was naked in the damp, disheveled hotel bed. The kid had gone for seconds, all right, and the middle-aged cop felt well and truly fucked. Like, a sleepy, tired and satisfied level of truly fucked.

The man felt bad for telling Kyle about the hookups he'd had. But he didn't want to hold back from the young man. Besides, there had just been two men over the last few month. They hadn't meant a thing and certainly couldn't hold a candle to Kyle fuckin' Smith.

Another knock came. Louder.

"All right," Joe called out. "Coming!"

He jumped out of the bed and sauntered over to the door. He could hear the shower running, and realized Kyle was in there.

Brandon and Preston were surprised to see the door fling open to reveal the full nakedness of a thick-set 50-ish man they'd never met. Lightly furred front, soft dick dangling beneath.

"Come in, fellas," Joe said. "Kyle's in the shower." Unceremoniously he turned and let the men indoors.

It took a second for Joe to pick up on their reaction. "Why be shy, right?" he said in his thick accent. He flashed an impish smile. "I can cover up if it bothers you though."

"Guess you're right," Brandon said. He held out his hand. "I'm Brandon."

Joe took the hand in his own strong mitt and shook it. "Definitely see the family ressemblance."

"Joe," the cop said.

"Preston," the businessman said as he greeted the cop.

"Jesus what the fuck kind of name is Preston?" Joe quipped.

Brandon got angry. Protective and angry. "We can call this off," he said through gritted teeth.

"Call what off?" came Kyle's voice as he stepped out, towel wrapped around his waist.

Preston's eyes noticeably showed excitement. If he had to pick, he'd choose Brandon's body, but Kyle had a shorter, more compact build that was scrlpted with tight, rounded young muscle.

Kyle immediately picked up on the vibe. "Jesus, Joe. Did you shoot off your mouth again?"

The cop looked genuinely contrite. "Sorry fellas. Guess I'm shitty at first impressions. Preston," he said, turning to the other daddy in the group. "I'm sorry man. Really. That was a shitty thing to say."

"All right," he said in a clipped Yankee accent. "I guess we're not here on a date or anything," he joked.

Joe nodded. "Yeah, the Smith brothers are the stars of the weekend, right?"

Brandon looked at Kyle. "You guys already get started?" he asked his brother.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, couldn't wait, sorry."

Brandon turned to look at his lover. "I wouldn't mind a little one-on-one time with Press first."

"Yeah, babe?" Preston asked. He wasn't sure how this scene would play out. But as much as he wanted to see Kyle in action, he was drawn to Brandon first and foremost.

The hunky marine pulled Preston closer to him, then guided his arms around the man's waist to draw him into a kiss. It was soft and sensual. Brandon Smith was SUCH an amazing kisser, and inspired Preston to give his best in return.

"We can give ya guys some space," Joe spoke up. Amused to see a version of what he and Kyle had just experienced.

"Yah," Brandon almost said. Only Press' hand gripped his arm.

"It's OK if they watch babe," he said. The older man had a playful look on his face. "I kind of want 'em to."

Brandon looked at Preston in amusement. This buttoned-down divorced dad had a way of surprising him. "OK, he said.

Kyle was still in his towel as he sat on the bed, feeling Joe settle in behind him. The cop's mitts felt good feeling up his ripped Marine muscles. If Kyle hadn't just fucked the man, twice, he'd be boning up fast.

"You OK with this, Kyle?" Brandon asked.

Kyle nodded. "Go for it, bro. It'll be hot to see you guys."

That was all the green light it took for Brandon and Preston. It was like it was just them, alone in the room, even as they were also aware of putting on a show. They slowly stripped each other and made out.

About the only thing to break the spell was the cop's outburst when Brandon removed Press's button-down shirt, revealing a DILF-y gym-toned body.

"Holy fucking shit, he's a frickin' magazine model."

The cop's loudmouth approach had rubbed him the wrong way, but now he enjoyed having Preston's amazing body recognized.

The lovers were soon naked and Brandon was reclining them down on the other bed. Kissing softly even as their bodies humped more urgently. They were matched in height, but Brandon had some more muscle on him, and Preston was feeling up every inch with his hands.

Soon the older man was parting his legs, letting Brandon's body find that spot between them. Their kissing grew more impassioned, until Brandon leaned up.

"Fuck you feel so good, Press," he sighed. "I love ya, man."

"Love you, too, Big B." This was the only thing that made Preston self conscious about having an audience. But he knew this was part of sex between him and Brandon. The emotional openness.

"I need to be inside you, Dad," Brandon hissed.

"Please," Preston said. "I need you, Son."

Joe felt Kyle's body tense in his arms. The cop was a pervy enough man that the dad-son play didn't phase him. But he sensed it hit differently for Kyle. This was his brother, talking about "Dad." Joe just held the 21-year-old tight against him and kissed the side of his neck.

"OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Kyle whispered back.

Then Joe felt Kyle's hand grip his forearm, pulling it down. Joe thought the kid was rejecting his embrace but instead Kyle guided Joe's hand lower, right to the towel, where there was a ridge of hard dick. The kid was turned on.

"Jesus, it's a like a Lifetime movie," Joe almost said, but restrained himself. Everything was so frickin sensuous between the other couple. Even the lubing of cocks and the fingering of Preston's hole. The man was glas Kyle was into more animalistic fucking. The kid always had been, even at 18.

At last the divorced exec lifted his toned legs, and Brandon gingerly positioned the ankles on his meaty shoulders. The two locked eyes, silently, lovingly.

And Brandon entered his daddy lover.

Preston winced at entry but after a second, his hands were on Brandon's muscle ass, coaxing him to push in further.

"Not gonna last long today, Dad," Brandon hissed. "You feel so fucking good."

"We got all weekend, Son," Press countered. Before Brandon he didn't enjoy bottoming. Hell, the times he fooled around with men he usually preferred getting head. But this Marine had a way of rocking his world, turning it upside down. Of making him want cock like this. "Fuck me. Fuck your father."

Brandon let out a low deep grunt and powered in. Slowly, sensually at first. God he was SO turned on. Being with Press, hearing that roleplay talk. But also know his little bro was watching. "I'm gonna go a little harder, sir," he hissed.

"Do it!" Press urged.

And like that came a serious of slow, rough thrusts.

"Yes!" the exec grunted. Only Brandon could make him love it like this, too. Hard, with a roughness to each inward push of that meaty cock. "Attaboy."

Brandon had a few trigger words and that was one of them. He knew orgasm was coming now. So he humped more excitedly, hard stokes working to get himself off with this perfect man's ass.

"Yeah, Dad," he hissed. "Gonna cum!"

He felt Press's hands caress his sides, encouraging him to give it up.

"UNNGH!" Brandon grunted and unloaded.

"Yes!" Press said excitedly. He loved watching his Big B cum, loved seeing that mix of youthful masculinity and almost childish need. Already he was stroking his dick to get his own nut.

Brandon took a second to come down from the high but when he did he started working his dick in and out of Press's warm hole. Fucking slowly but hard, the way Press liked it.

The older man wasn't a loud cummer, but Brandon knew how to read the signs. Sure enough. the middle-aged man's body clenched and white hot sperm flew out. Preston Weldman came a lot when he orgasmed.

Brandon pulled out and only then was self conscious that his brother and his brother's lover were looking on.

Kyle had a look that was clearly horny and maybe a little embarrassed. "Why don't we give you some space, Bro?" he said quietly.

The older brother rolled off Preston's body. "We freak you out, Kyle? I guess I should have warned you that we do the roleplay thing."

Joe spoke up. "Don't let the kid fool ya, he loved that shit."

"Jesus, Joe," Kyle objected. But the man was right.

Preston leaned up. He felt a strange fondness for Kyle, a dude he'd never met. "Kyle, it took me a while to get into it." He ran his hand up and down Brandon's strong back. "I don't know... your brother's a persuasive man."

"Eight inches is a lot of persuasion," Joe quipped. He'd just witness the other brother's endowment, and Brandon was as hung as Kyle, for sure.

"Joe, what the fuck?" Kyle pestered. But Brandon and Preston were smirking.

"Fuckin' Christ. What the fuck are we for? It's supposed to be a fun weekend, right?" He patted Kyle's chest affectionately and gave a soft, contrite kiss. "Come on, let's go get a pint and we can talk more at the pub." The cop pulled his meaty body back from his younger lovers and stepped off the bed. "Apparently we need to talk about 'ground rules' or some bullshit," he bellowed.

Brandon had to admit the policeman was growing on him.

[screeching-bunny]

ugghhh we need more of the yan cheerleader 😣

Yandere! Cheerleader pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

Yandere! Cheerleader was a mess right now. There are three weeks left till prom and you haven’t asked her out yet. Sure, she had a lot of people ask her out already. Also, yes she’s rejected them all but in comparison to you, they meant nothing. Now logically speaking it would just be smarter and easier if she asked to go with you herself but her pride wouldn’t allow that to happen.

I mean come on, her? The queen bee of the school asking some rando to prom? Get real! She needs to be treated as special and besides if you won’t ask her out she’ll make sure no else would go with you. Everyday before school, she made sure to do herself up and make sure she looked perfect for you. So that you could be transfixed with her and finally ask her out to be your date. When in class, most of her attention was on you, waiting for the moment that you’ll finally approach her and she’ll graciously agree.

You just have to, there is no way you wouldn’t. Everyone in school is just dying to have a chance at being with her. This is considered an honor. In a heartbeat would she accept any invitation or request that you send her way. So you should do the same, obviously. She couldn’t wait for everyone to send envious stares as a dream couple is formed right in front of their eyes.

Currently, Yandere! Cheerleader was spacing out during class and waiting for the bell to finally ring. Today was the day that the two of you agreed to hang out at the movies together. It was as friends of course but Yandere! Cheerleader deluded herself into thinking that it was like a date and that you were too shy to admit it. Hearing the sound of the final bell, she quickly packs up her stuff and gets ready to leave. She just couldn’t wait to go on this “date” with you. Maybe this is the day that you’ll ask her to go to prom with you?! It would just be so perfect and romantic. Something that she could brag about to all her “friends”.

As she made her way towards the door, one of her minions called out to her, “We should totally hang out together today, it’d be fun!” Rolling her eyes, she made her way outside of the classroom. She was not ready to deal with them. Don’t they know about the important matters that she has today? Soon, she finally made it to your designated meeting spot which was right outside of school. She waited for a couple minutes, then some more, and then some more. Where on Earth were you?! You couldn’t have ditched her right?! The most popular and prettiest girl in school? There was just no way. She spam texted you but there was no reply.

Getting tired of this she decided to just find you herself. Scouring the school she eventually finds you near the garden club and the sight she saw made her heart freeze. Right in front of her stood the scene of a boy asking you out to prom. She could not believe it. She was seething red and clenched her fist so hard in her skin that her nails left marks. In her head she preyed and chanted that you would reject him. Watching from the corner she could hear her heart pounding as you started to give your answer. Thankfully her prayer was answered when you politely declined his invitation and she breathed a sigh of relief. However, she’ll definitely have to deal with the dude later for trying to steal what’s hers!

As you made your way to leave she decided to act natural and approach you. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! Are we going to the movies or not?!” You apologized for being late and making her wait for you. You guys then started to go to her car and hop in. It took a couple of minutes to arrive at the movie theater and Yandere! Cheerleader’s thoughts were preoccupied. What would she have done if you actually accepted that guy's feelings? She’s never thought about this before but what if she loses you to someone else? No matter what, she has to push back her pride and ask you herself before it’s too late.

When the both of you arrive at the theater, Yandere! Cheerleader order basically orders everything on the snack list. By the time that she’s done the poor workers are giving her dirty looks and look like they want to die. She forces all the workers to carry them to your seated area and soon the movie starts. The entire time her eyes weren’t on the movie but on yours. She wanted to see and witness every reaction that you had. If anything, that was more entertaining than any dumb old movie. In her head the only thing that she could think of was the word “cute”.

After the movie, Yandere! Cheerleader decided to bring you somewhere. Her secret spot on top of a mountain that she liked to hang out on. If you didn’t know any better than you would have thought that she was taking you to a secluded area to murder you. It was a beautiful little area and the both of you decided to spend your time star gazing. Moments like this are times that she longs for. No one bothering the two of you and just basking in each other's presence. The very sight of your illuminated face due to the moonlight makes her all giddy on the inside. Nothing could take away from this moment, everything was perfect. Deciding that this was the time, she gets up and opens her mouth saying,

“I’ve liked you for a while now. You created emotions in me that I never knew existed. Won’t you please be mine and go to the prom with me?”

[chaggiehearts]

I'm gonna be brutally honest: I think it'd be far more satisfying to watch Lute redeeming herself than dying as a villain.

I know a large part of the fandom hates her (although thankfully most people here on Tumblr don't) and I'm not gonna act like I don't understand why. She's a sadistic genocidal woman who won't hesitate to hurt everyone that goes against her corrupted morality. Even outside the series, her words and beliefs might remind a lot of viewers of extremist Christians, and since a lot of us are LGBT we might be reminded of ugly things we've been told in the past (I'll admit that even though I don't interpret that scene as her being homophobic, the "Their love is vile and blasphemous" comment might hurt me if I watch that scene when I'm feeling too sensitive). Lute is clearly not a good person and the series doesn't try to hide this fact at all, specially given her fixation with hurting/mutilating/killing Vaggie. Even though she's my 3rd fave character, I admit that she kinda sucks as a person.

However, I think that all the arguments on why she's irredeemable fail to be convincing once you take something into account: Lute is the Vaggie that never left her Exorcist position.

Their characters are clearly parallels and meant to be narrative foils. Vaggie is what Lute could turn out to be if she admitted she's wrong. Vaggie is my favorite character but I can't deny that before her fall she was despicable too. We know that at the very least she killed 2,000 sinners (going by the "thousandS of Sinners" comment) and I highly doubt the actual amount is that low given the number of Sinners killed by Lute during last Extermination. My personal headcanon is that it's around 10,000-15,000, but we don't know, at least not yet. Vaggie WASN'T a good person, even if she had doubts from the very beginning (which we don't even know if it's true, let's be real here) she still did horrible things. She took part in the Exterminations and, according to Adam, she was one of the most efficient Exorcists (perhaps second only to Lute herself). This is why I adore the dynamic between them, because the mutual hatred comes from the rejection of certain ideals: Vaggie hates what she used to be in the past, which is represented by Lute, a perfect reflection of who she used to be, and Lute hates the idea that Exterminations might be wrong, that she might be wrong, that her entire worldview might be flawed, which is represented by Vaggie.

If Vaggie was able to redeem herself, if we can collectively agree that she regretted her actions and improved as a person, if we can understand that Hazbin's concept is that EVERYONE can be redeemed, even the worst villains, even the nastiest individuals, if we can see that the structure of the Exorcists greatly resembles a sect (I will analyze this better another day, but they're literally a patriarchal sect in which one has to adhere to all of their leader's beliefs and not doing so will result in abandonment, punishment and isolation from your entire circle), isn't it logical to think that Lute might reach the same conclusions as Vaggie one day? Why would Vaggie deserve compassion and forgiveness and a new life and not someone who's overall very similar to her? As I said before, yes, I do understand why people hate Lute more than Vaggie, specially given what she did to her, one of the protagonists, but they're not that different at all. The issue is that we've only seen evil Lute and good Vaggie so far, but the series might explore other aspects of their characters. Hazbin Hotel criticizes the black-and-white mentality of Heaven, Lute's very mentality that has led to what she is right now. Putting Vaggie in one end of a morality scale and Lute in the other is imho a flawed interpretation. They're both in a gray place, they're both complex people.

Lute is going to do horrible things in the future and, if I'm allowed to speculate, I heavily believe she's going to be worse than what Adam ever had the chance to be, way worse than Vaggie ever was. After losing Adam, revenge will probably make her go from evil to downright monster. And honestly, I want to see that fall, that corruption arc (does it count as a corruption arc when the character was already corrupted from the beginning?). I want Lute to metaphorically fall into the darkest pits of Hell. And you know what? I want her to get up after that, start a new life just like what Vaggie did. I think Lute searching for redemption would be a great test on Charlie's ideals, because she probably wouldn't be too enthusiastic about this idea (since her body language in Episode 8 clearly shows that she knows about what Lute did to Vaggie, her role in Vaggie's fall). I think something beautiful might come out of something like this happening. Charlie realizing that she doesn't have to personally empathize with someone to help them become a better person (and the whole concept of redemption being proven right because if someone like Lute can do it then literally anyone can), Lute seeing the error of her ways, growing and searching for the light she lost in the shadows and Vaggie empathizing with one of the residents in a deeper level. Even though Lute doesn't deserve Vaggie's forgiveness, I'd love to see Vaggie extending that forgiveness to her and seeing her past self in Lute, but this time not the merciless Exorcist Vaggie that she hates, but the hurt, lost and scared Vaggie that had just arrived in Hell after her worldview had been flipped entirely. If these two made amends, I think we would be able to see a very sweet new side of Vaggie, because even though she'd love to help Angel Dust, Husk, Cherri Bomb... She'll never fully get how they ended up down there. But she would get Lute, she'd understand how addictive bad actions can be for an Exorcist, the search for purpose and acknowledgement from Adam, the self-righteousness. If there's anyone in that hotel that would know what it's like to be an Exorcist that regrets her actions, that's Vaggie.

In the end, the only thing I'm sure of at the moment is that Lute's story is far from over. Things could go either way and redemption is a viable path for her. Who knows, maybe she'll do something so extremely evil in the future that I lose my faith in her ability to change after that, but for now I'm still holding onto that hope :)