#and then the murders stop because all light can think about is how shitty his romantic relationship is

[runariya]

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 6 FINALE

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, fluff, smoking, OC's parents are still shit, scorpion hybrid (sorry angel, I had it already written lol), multiple murder, mentions of bodies, semi-graphic description of beating someone to death, blood, wounds, explicit sexual content, smut, oral (m. receiving), JK whines a lot but not sub, unprotected sex, marking and bonding, knotting, love confessions <3, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 3K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

Three things.

There are three things you realised while living with Jungkook.

One—you’ll never, ever, under any circumstances, humiliate him again in public. Not because he doesn’t deserve it sometimes, but because it’s the dumbest and most dangerous thing you could do. Not just for him and his whole organisation, but for you too—it puts your life at risk.

Sure, him killing someone in that nightclub didn’t change much, but his friends seeing him like that, howling, has strained their relationship, and you’re not sure how he’s managed to keep them in line since. You know killing them off wouldn’t be an option to regain his control though. 

Of course, you’d apologised to Jungkook more than once, and he brushed it off like it was nothing, like even though you’d hurt him, he’d still forgive you.

Which brings you to the second thing you realised.

As much of a lunatic as Jungkook is, he’s kind and loving to you. After the branding—that was the first and last time he hurt you physically—he’s never laid a hand on you again or said anything cruel. You still don’t fully understand why he feels the way he does about you, but you’ll get the answers out of him soon, once he emerges from his study to join you by the fireplace.

Just yesterday, you’d asked Jungkook if you could call your parents. To your surprise, he let you without much thought, but stayed right beside you, insisting the phone be on speaker so he could hear.

The call didn’t last long, no. After a few rings, your dad picked up, and you couldn’t help but cry and call his name, only for him to hang up straightaway. You tried again, but no one answered after that.

That’s when you knew Jungkook had been telling the truth all along. And that’s when you finally saw him for who he really is: someone whose only goal in life is to keep you safe and loved, even if it started in a way you hated.

“Don’t think about it,” Jungkook says, sitting down next to you, his arm draped behind you on the headrest as he kisses your temple.

“About you being whipped for me?”

“That you can think about.”

He pulls you close, and you lean into him, soaking in his warmth and scent. The penthouse is still too cold for you; you only feel warm when you’re near Jungkook or the fireplace. One day, you’ll have to ask him to turn up the heating a bit more.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Why me?”

There’s an ease in the way you both speak, in how comfortable he seems, and you wonder if it’ll last. Jungkook knows exactly what you’re asking, like he always does, so there’s no hesitation in his voice as his hand moves absentmindedly, tracing soothing circles on your shoulder.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Jungkook stares off, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips as he lights a cigar.

“Beomseok’s little shop around that dodgy corner. You were sixteen, I think. Always working, every shift it seemed, just to help your shitty family when you should’ve been enjoying life.”

You sit up, startled that he knows about your past.

“One of the many times I stopped by, you cleared out the whole shelf because a bug got stuck in your fur or something.” He chuckles, as if picturing it. “And I helped you. Always did after that.”

“The scrawny boy in the black hoodie and face mask! That was you?”

“That was me.” He nods, locking eyes with you, his gaze full of adoration.

“You made my life so much better back then.” You smile, your hand moving up and down his thigh.

“Back then, I swore I wouldn’t drag you into my world, but I’d keep you safe. Neither worked out, clearly.”

“But I’m safe,” you cut in, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes.

“No, as long as you’re with me in this world, you’re not.”

“Jungkook, I am safe with you,” you insist, determined, because it’s true. You’ve never felt safer than when you’re with him. Not back then, and not now.

Jungkook just nods, as if he’s not entirely convinced but doesn’t want to argue. It’s enough for now, you reckon, and with a bit of courage, knowing you’ve never thanked him properly for all he did for you, you lean in just as he takes another puff of his cigar and kiss his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, Jungkook.”

He smiles, pulls you against his chest, kisses the top of your head, and mumbles, “Anytime, love.”

You know Jungkook brought you catnip just yesterday when he came back from ‘work’. You also know it should be with your baking supplies, but there’s no trace of it now. You’ve been through every cabinet twice by this point, even pulled out all the tableware just to be sure. But nothing.

There’s no way you’re going out now to buy the ones you’ve been snacking on up until a few days ago, especially after learning from some TikTok that they’re unhealthy because of… well, you don’t even remember anymore. But you’ve looked up a recipe since, and you need to bake some asap before the withdrawal hits too hard.

Knowing Jungkook definitely knows where the catnip is, and that he’s currently two floors down—a floor he’s actually banned you from entering, though he did give you the passcode, your birthdate, in case of emergencies—you head straight for the lift, figuring this is the very definition of an emergency.

You’re shocked when you step out; the floor’s empty of furniture, the walls bare, like an unfinished building. Still, you make your way to the only visible door, soft grunts coming from behind it, and you reckon it’s just his gym.

You walk in without knocking—and freeze, eyes wide at the sight in front of you. It’s not a gym at all, but a floor dedicated to torture.

There are several dead, bloodied bodies off to the side, with Jimin standing nearby, his bored eyes fixed on the brutal scene unfolding before him.

A man’s tied to a chair, barely conscious, as Jungkook, his back to you, hammers down bloody fists over and over into the guy’s face.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to stop abruptly and turn, his eyes locking onto yours in shock, sensing your presence before he even hears you.

“Leave!”

But you can’t tear your gaze away from the scorpion hybrid slumped in the chair—the very man who sold you at the auction. Looking again at the bodies, you recognise each one of them now.

The one who kidnapped you and every single person you crossed paths with during your captivity.

“I said leave!” Jungkook barks again, but when you meet his eyes, it’s not anger you see—it’s worry.

You just shake your head, walking silently over to stand beside Jimin, who doesn’t dare say a word. Jungkook looks unsure, but when you give him a nod, something shifts in his expression, like a curtain falling over his very soul.

He turns back to his victim, fists resuming their precise rhythm, as if nothing had interrupted him in the first place.

You’d always thought watching Jungkook work would make you sick, would make you feel something. And while there’s still anger bubbling inside you at the sight of the men who wronged you, you don’t feel much of anything else. There’s not a single part of you that’s repulsed by the sight of death caused by Jungkook, not even at the blood or the life slowly draining from the man in front of you.

Jungkook’s assault isn’t anything dramatic, either—it’s like he’s training on a punching bag, nothing more. No show, no curses, no shouting—just the unrelenting, wet clap of fist meeting flesh.

With one final uppercut, it’s over. The sickening crack of the man’s neck rings out, and Jungkook stops, panting quietly, his body still as he stares at what he’s done—for you.

“Let’s go home, Jungkook,” you call softly.

“You *are* home!” he snaps.

“I am,” you reply, your voice and eyes loving as his gaze meets yours, finally registering your words.

Jungkook’s tense muscles relax at that, and with a single nod, he walks with you to the door, keeping a small distance as he instructs over his shoulder, “Take care of the rest.”

“Yes, boss.”

There’s nothing said on the way back to the penthouse, and you reckon Jungkook needs a minute to calm down, adrenaline still too prominent in his scent. His clothes are soaked in blood, the smell slightly bothering you now, but it’s the ticking of his jaw and the worry in his eyes that has you more concerned.

Sure, you can read him—his eyes and scent give him away without much thought—but you never fully know what’s going on inside. He’s the first to enter the bedroom, and before you’ve even had the chance to close the door, he’s already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

You leave him be for now, giving him space to literally wash away his sins before you need to talk, not about the catnip, but to finally tell him what he means to you, to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped low around his hips, happy trail on display, and for a second, you lose track of what you wanted to say, though you quickly recover.

“Sit down,” you say, already perched on the bed.

He’s hesitant, you can see it in the way his eyes dart around, but he still obliges.

Again, he doesn’t sit right beside you, leaving a bit of space you can’t stand. So, you shuffle closer, taking his hands and inspecting the split knuckles. There aren’t many, and the few that are split are minor, probably because he’s used to this—knows how to throw a punch without hurting himself.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“It’s not enough.” He shakes his head.

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

You think for a moment, and then it hits you. “You are enough, Jungkook.”

His head snaps to you, searching your face for a lie that isn’t there.

“You are enough. This is enough. I want to stay. This is my home, and you’re right—I don’t hate you.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches for your face, cradling it softly, as if he needs to touch you to believe it’s real.

“I love you, Jungkook, and I’m sorry for being difficult.”

“You’re not, love, never were.”

There’s a moment for everything, and you reckon this is the moment you want to kiss him, to be kissed by him. You press your hands to his bare chest, leaning forward until your breaths mingle, barely any space left between your lips and his.

You see his eyelids flutter shut, and with that, you close the distance, capturing his soft upper lip. It feels like your life has finally clicked into place, like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever without knowing it. 

You straddle his lap as your tongue plays with his, not in a battle for dominance but as equals, moaning softly into the kiss like a song composed by only you. Occasionally, a whine escapes his throat, and you don’t mind in the slightest, knowing it’s just his genes, just as your purring is from yours.

“Please touch me, Jungkook.”

This time, he listens, his hands cupping your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, pushing your clothed cunt against his hard-on. You want him, want him to claim you, so you speed up the process of undressing, not only yourself but finally pulling off the towel around his waist while kneeling between his legs.

Looking up, your purring louder now, you meet his dilated eyes, seeing your reflection in his pupils. He wants you just as much as you want him, and the knowledge feels so damn satisfying, you can’t help but wrap your tiny hands around his thick cock.

Jerking him off is easy, his precum already slicking his shaft, making your strokes smooth.

“Yes, kitten,” Jungkook breathes, his eyes never leaving yours, too captivated by what you’re doing to close them.

The sight of him has you practically drooling, unable to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. It’s your cue to take him properly. You stick out your tongue, licking from his balls to the tip, then taking him all the way into your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore. Your purring gets louder from the taste of him, drawing an approving moan from his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. So fucking good, kitten.”

Spurred on by his words, you try sucking from your throat rather than your mouth, massaging his tight balls with the excess saliva as you gag slightly from his size. It’s exactly what he wants, what he needs, his abs clenching as his breathing becomes ragged in seconds. 

You feel invincible, like a goddess, taking him in like a champ, not stopping until he grabs your face and pulls you back, both hands cupping your cheeks.

“Enough,” he pants, his eyes burning into yours as he helps you up, too dazed to do it yourself.

Jungkook’s mouth is on yours in an instant when you fall onto the bed, not caring about his own taste as he devours you, his tongue tracing along your lips and neck. He pauses there, snapping out of his instincts for a second, as if he’s debating whether to mark you.

“Mark me,” you moan, your cunt grinding against his thigh, pulling his head closer by his hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he kisses your neck, squeezing your tit, his fingers toying with your nipple.

You never tire of the sight of his back, the way his muscles flex with every movement of his head, while his touch sets every nerve ending on your body on fire.

“Let me love you right first,” he murmurs against your lips, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt and pushing inside as he kisses you.

The stretch and burn are familiar, but it’s different now, with him finally touching you, holding you. It’s not rushed or wild like it was when you fucked yourself on him before. It’s slow and loving, his thrusts deep until he’s buried fully inside you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop kneading your breasts as he picks up his pace, his cock sliding out just enough to keep you connected before thrusting back in, uniting your bodies over and over again.

You love this side of him, love every side of him, and it’s all you can manage to moan, his name like a prayer on your lips. Not knowing how long you’ll last, even though you never want it to stop, you grip his head, pushing him up slightly to meet your eyes.

His brows are furrowed, his rosey lips swollen and shiny, begging for more kisses, but you hold back for just a moment.

“Please mark me, Jungkook.”

“I won’t control you, kitten,” he pants, his thrusts not faltering.

“No, please bond with me.”

Jungkook almost collapses on top of you, his whine so loud it drowns out the wet sounds of his cock driving into you.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you cry out as he hits just the right spot.

You expect him to go for it immediately, but instead, he kisses your neck again, taking his time, almost reverent in how he prepares to mark you.

He takes one last deep inhale of your scent before finally sinking his fangs into your neck, growling, “You’re mine.”

The added rush of arousal from his bite, combined with the way his hips move faster, has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You hope Jungkook feels the same, wanting to share everything with him.

When he pulls back to admire the mark, he kisses you again, harder this time, the taste of your blood on his tongue not dampening the moment.

“Mark me too,” he moans against your lips, his sweat dripping down his perfect nose onto your face.

Your hand runs up his back, tangling in his hair as he exposes his neck for you, and you guide him closer to your mouth.

Taking a deep breath, his scent making you dizzier than ever, you sink your teeth into his neck—not because it’ll do anything permanent, just leaving small marks from your tiny canines—but it’s symbolic, and that’s all that matters for both of you.

“I love you,” he whines out, and it’s your bite that gives Jungkook the final push. His cock swells even more, his thrusts becoming irregular. “Where, love?”

“Inside!” You mewl, the added sensation of his cock growing inside you pushing you over the edge too, your legs wrapping tightly around his hips to keep him close.

“Fuck, ___, I love you so much,” Jungkook shudders, coming just as forcefully as he entered your life, nearly paralysing you with the sheer amount of cum filling you.

It’s the last push you need as your orgasm bursts with his, your cunt clenching around him like second nature. 

Jungkook starts to pull out, but you hold him in like a vice, wanting him to knot you and affirm again that this is final. That he is your finality.

There’s not much said but the soft love confessions whispered against your lips and skin, not much done but lying together, basking in the safety and love you’ve found in each other.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

a/n 2: tysm for reading and being patient with updates 🥹 lmk what you think in any way you like! Character asks and drabble requests for this fic are still open 💕

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

taglist: @jksusawife, @kookiewithluv, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire , @ericawantstoescape , @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok , @fluttershyvanilla, @lachimolalajeon , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @llallaaa , @m00njinnie , @passionandsuga , @scuzmunkie , @lerasi , @11thenightwemet11 , @bts-ruu , @metalheadfangirl2001 , @unadulteratedwitcher , @qmsvpx, @minghaosimp, @kittycatkrissa, @weareatthebadlands, @fluttershy-vanilla, @bangtannie7, @closer-to-jungkook, @dreamcatcherluvr, @blueofocean

[rafaslittleboy]

a hand to hold mine

pairing: sonny carisi/little sister!reader

description: sonny’s baby sister is a victim of a hostage situation. things come to light, and sonny considers what you are to him.

rating: dead dove don’t eat, dark fic, taboo fic. incest relationship between older brother and (legal) little sister. reader is taken hostage and sonny makes everything all better. hospital sex. bio brother/sister porn. fingering, clit rubbing, orgasms, loss of virginity, unprotected p-in-v sex, some dirty incest talk. (if I missed any out, let me know!)

if you’re sensitive, don’t read!

dc: @flowercrowns-goodvibes bc she wanted it sooooooo badly

When Carisi got the call that a girl, between the age of eighteen and twenty-two, had been caught in a hostage situation, Amanda had told him to come down immediately.

As an ADA, he barely got to go to hostage situations. But the perpetrator? He asked for Carisi specifically.

Someone he had crossed back in his detective days, by the looks of it.

As soon as Dominick arrived, he was given a bullet proof vest and Amanda filled him in on the situation.

Man, in his late thirties, has a record for pedophillia and murder, was let out on good behaviour only two weeks prior. His name was David Ortez—and Sonny was the undercover cop that built a case against him and put him away.

“it’s your sister, Sonny.” Amanda told him, sympathy in her tone.

“My… my sista’?”

What one? Was the question. He had four sisters, Bella, Theresa, Gina—and the baby sister, you. Just started college, your whole life ahead of you.

Amanda said your name and suddenly Carisi felt light headed. Bile rising in his throat.

“How long has she been in there?” He said, and he could barely hear himself.

“Almost an hour, listen… he’s done a number on her. He phoned nine-one-one every time he hurt her.”

Sonny clenched his fist. David Ortez was a disgusting man. When Sonny was undercover, that man told him in detail about the things he watched, things he done to his kids, his nieces and nephews. Things that made him sick then and made him sick now. And now he had you, his little sister, of all people.

“He’s phoning again.” Olivia raised her finger for everyone in the trailer to stop talking. She answered the phone.

“David?”

“Miss. Benson… it’s been a long time since we last spoke. How’ve you been? How’s Noah?”

David smiled into his phone. He watched through a blind spot in the window, watched how the building he was in was barricaded by armed police. Kept his eyes on the white trailer dead centre of the road.

“What do you want, David?” She spoke.

“I want to speak to Carisi.”

Sonny took the phone from Olivia’s hand despite her orders for him to stay quiet. He wasn’t a detective anymore, she said, you’re an ADA.

“I’m here.”

“Dominick.” The man smiled into the phone. “Got your baby sister here, she was stupid enough to help a poor… injured man.”

The way you became his hostage in the first place was because he had came up to you after your class, faking a stabbing. Spending the last two weeks stalking you, understanding your routine and schedule—and he got you at the right time. As soon as David got you into a room, he pistol whipped you and kicked you in your side to keep you down.

“She’s got a kind heart,” Sonny said, “how ‘bout you just let ‘er go? Huh? This is ‘tween you n’ me.”

“No can do, Dominick. Think I might keep her, actually. Take her abroad, get her pregnant, start a family with her. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

David traced the gun up your temple, smirking down at you.

He had your hands tied behind your back and has you sat against the wall below the window. A strip of duct tape over your mouth.

And David had beat you well. Bruising littering your body, your nose bleeding and a gash in your forehead and eyebrow dripping blood down your face.

“No way in hell.” Carisi growled at the David.

“Am I on speaker phone?”

“Yes.”

“Take me off. Unless you want your squad to learn some real shitty stuff about you.”

Sonny looked around, Olivia, Amanda, Joe and everyone else who was in the trailer was looking at him.

Olivia gave him a nod of permission, and Sonny pressed the button on the phone. It was just Sonny and David now.

“Good. Don’t think I don’t remember what you told me. What I made you do.”

To gain David’s trust while Sonny was undercover, he had to befriend David. And David was paranoid, it took months for David to trust him.

“One thing,” David said.

“Anythin’” Sonny replied.

“Prove what you did to her. Your little sister? You told me you raped her since she was four. Looked through your wallet and you have a photo of her.”

“What about her?”

“Want you to jerk over her. Now.” And David passed Sonny the picture of you as a little girl. Sonny kept it in his wallet for a reason to keep going, to keep doing what he was doing.

Sonny held the picture between his fingers and he looked down at the picture of you. He swallowed, hard and looked at David and nervously smiled, “C’mon… I’m past that now.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

The picture was placed back in his wallet ten minutes later, stained with his milky cum.

Sonny hears you yelp, and he can’t imagine what David is doing to you. “Don’t touch her.”

“Why? Give me a reason not to rape her right now, Dominick.”

“She… she—I ain’t ever… done what I said I did. To her. I was undercover, had to learn more about ya.”

“Obviously. This little girl adores you; fairly obvious you didn’t do a thing you said you did.” And he tugs on your hair.

“You put me away, Dominick. Worked your way into my head and put me back in prison. Do you know what they did to me in there? Do you?!”

David yelled down the phone.

“David… I’m sorry, if it were up’ta me, it would’ve never of happened.”

“But that’s the thing, Dominick. You had a choice. And now, so do I. Life is all about making the right choices.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the barrel of the gun stared back at you. Your breathing got worse.

“Theres two ways this can go. Put me back on speaker phone.”

Sonny done as he was told. Immediately.

“Option one: I shoot the little girl and then myself. You never get to see her again. You never get closure.”

David pauses. Sonny’s palms are sweaty. His heart beating out of his chest.

“Option two: You get me a car, you get me a million dollars and I take your little sister anywhere I want. And I promise you. I’ll keep her alive.”

Both options take you away from your brother. Away from your family, friends—the life you built.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to decide. And if you don’t? Well…” David took the safety off the pistol. “I’ll decide for you. Times ticking, Dominick Carisi.”

Then the line went dead.

Sonny threw the phone on the desk and wiped a hand down his face.

“I’ll get a car,” Olivia told him. “We have two Snipers are already aimed at the door, Sonny, don’t worry. We’ll get him.”

If only Sonny could believe that. He’s seen how some of these things go. How there’s no happy endings.

“It’s option two; we get a car, lure him out and shoot him dead.”

“Nah, no.” Sonny put a hand on his hips. “Could hurt her. I ain’t gonna hurt my lil’ sister.”

“Sonny, hurting her is the least of our problems. We want her alive, and we want her out. Now. This way, we get her out and she’ll be alive and she’ll be safe.”

Sonny bit his lip. Amanda was right. This was the only option they had to take. The only option Sonny could agree to.

“Call him back. We have a car on the way.” Olivia told him.

And sonny picked up the phone and dialled David back. David picked up within the first ring.

“Dominick. Your choice?”

“Two. I have a car on the way, we have your money. I know you, David, you… you stick to your word. I know you’ll take care’a my sister.”

“Good choice, Carisi. Knew you’d come to your senses. Hey, I’ll send you a postcard when she births my children. Don’t get too jealous.”

David watches as a black Jeep pulls up outside the barricade and how the police move around it, to give him space. “My money in that car, Carisi?”

There was no money. The objective out of this situation was to shoot David point blank.

“Yes,” Sonny replied. “It’s all in there. In a bag. Untraceable. The car’s untraceable, too.”

“Wow,” David smiled, “Really doing everything to protect your sister, eh? Do you remember when I made you look at a picture of her, made you jerk your cock over her?”

The phone was on speaker. Everyone could hear what David was saying.

“No.” Sonny swallowed. “I don’t.”

He does. It crosses his mind frequently.

“I do. I don’t blame you.” David lowers the phone to you, “Hey, sweetheart. You wanna say goodbye to your big brother?”

“S—sonny—“ you sob. And it’s the first time he’s heard your voice in months. He regrets leaving your text messages on delivered or read, he regrets not reaching out to you, calling you.

“Hey, doll,” he panics, he brings the phone to his ear. “You’re gonna be okay, doll, my little angel.”

“Of course she is, she’s gonna be my wife.”

David grabs your arm and pulls you up. “Bye, Carisi.” And he hangs up.

David brushes off your shoulder and smiled wickedly at you. “It’s just you and me now, little one. Your brother gave us his blessing.”

You start crying again. Closing your eyes just so you don’t have to look at this horrible man. In your little mind, he’s won. He’s going to take you god knows where and you’ll never get to see anyone you love again. You’ll never get to see your mom, your dad, your older sisters—your big brother.

He’s always been a busy man. Recently, after he came an ADA, he hadn’t had any time for you. It hurt you, but you were a big girl—you could understand that sometimes his job had to come first.

David ripped the duct tape from your mouth and tapped your bruised and cut cheek.

“Oh, don’t cry, baby.” David cooed, “it’ll all be fine soon enough. come on, start walking.”

David shoved you forward and put the gun at your spine. It was enough for you to do as you’re told. You walked, but you couldn’t feel yourself walk. It was as if you were floating.

David opened the door and the sun blinded you, your eyes flinched at the bright light.

Inside the trailer, Amanda was staring at the computer screen. “We have eyes.” Amanda yelled and Sonny didn’t waste any time and pushed past Olivia to leave the trailer.

He saw you, oh god, he saw you. You were there, alive. Breathing. His beautiful little sister.

“I want a clear pathway!” David yelled, “or the kid dies!”

Sonny was so close. He felt sick.

Sonny thought about how you grew up with him as your role model. He was in his late twenties when you were born, and his ma’ and dad were too busy with work so they handed you off to him. He raised you when they weren’t able to. His life with you flashed through his mind, like it was his last minutes with you. How you grew up to be a pretty little girl. How he isn’t so different from some of these men he puts away.

It’s a thought that he pushes to the back of his mind. A disgusting part of him that only comes out at night.

A part of him that wanted his little sister. And David knew that fact.

David walked down the steps with the gun to your temple. “Your brother is right there, front row seat. You wanna know that he’s real jealous of me right now. He knows that I’m going to fuck you real good, fill you up with my babies. He wants it to be him instead.”

You couldn’t see your brother—wherever he was. You couldn’t see anything. Your eyesight was blurry with tears.

David moves from behind you and walks in front, approaching the jeep.

Not even a second later, a loud gunshot rings out in the air. The bad man slumped to the ground in front of you. Your face splattered with his brains and blood, eyes squeezed shut.

Time went so fast, your ears rang.

Sonny shouted your name as he pushed heavy armed police out of the way and into the barricaded zone, where you were.

You felt arms wrap tightly around you, smooshing you against a broad chest. You recognise the feeling, the safeness of his arms. It was your big brother.

“Sonny,” your voice cracked as he held you tight, he breathed you in. You were here, you were alive, breathing. Hugging him tight to your body.

“S’okay, doll, m’right here.”

His hand cupped the back of your head and started to guide you into the police car just a few feet back. Blood on your face wasn’t a good look, the fear in your eyes made his heart hurt.

His little sister, a little girl he watched grow up, had a gun to her head because he put a rapist—murderer away a few years ago, and he got out early. It was all his fault.

The EMTS came over and tore you from his grasp, telling you that you’re going with them.

“I’m ridin’ with her,” Sonny tells them, “I need’a make sure she’s okay.”

“Okay, Counsellor.” They agreed. “We’ll let the other detectives know.”

———

You had passed out in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and the paramedics had to reassure him that you were okay, that your body probably just had to relax—so it forced itself to sleep.

It didn’t give him the peace of mind they hoped.

You were asleep for around six hours and Sonny didn’t leave your side once. The second you woke up, he sat up and held your hand to his chest.

“Hey—hey,” he weakly smiled, his hand extended and hesitated to touch your hair. “You okay?”

You coughed and looked around the room you were in. “How… did I get here?”

“Ambulance brought ya here, doll, ya passed out just after you sat down.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “I just… I was so scared. He… he said he’d shoot me, or he… he’d gut me. He said it all depended on your answers.”

Sonny tears up, and it stings his blue eyes.

“Oh, doll…” Sonny sat forward and kissed your forehead, lingering so you wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “M’so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You tried to make him feel better, it wasn’t all the time you got to see him emotional.

“It is,” he says and he kisses your forehead repeatedly, “it is—my stupid work, brought ya into this.” and he holds you close, closing his blue eyes tight.

“i love you, sonny” you hiccup.

It was his emotional and vulnerability caused your own emotions to topple over, and you sobbed. Being in his arms, being with him, grounded you and made you understand that you were alive. You were safe. Your big brother saved you.

“I… “ and he doesn’t think, he just leans his chin forward and captures your lips in a soft, timid kiss.

A way a big brother should never kiss his little sister.

But he does it anyway. His big hand on your cheek keeping you close. Your eyes closed, any negative thought you had in your head disappeared as fast as they were thought.

“Was… “ Sonny swallowed, “was that okay?” he says below a whisper. Your eyes slowly open—your lips tingle with the aftermath of him giving you your first ever kiss.

You nod.

“Can… you kiss me again?”

Sonny didn’t expect you to ask for a kiss. He expected you to… well, do something else. Scream, yell, tell him to get out and that you’ll tell your parents. But no, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Sonny chuckled, then tilted his head to kiss you again. This time, with just a little more pressure than his previous feathery kiss. His hand came to cup the back of your head and press your lips harder into his.

As the kiss deepened and got more hot, he licked on the seam of your lips, opening your mouth to him. Taking advantage of your gasp, (obviously you had no idea that that was how real kissing started).

“what if a nurse comes in?” you say, breaking the kiss briefly. Your lips were swollen, breath uneven. Eyes blown.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, babygirl.”

You felt his hands roam up and down your arm slowly, the arm that wasn’t hooked up to machines, that was. He leaned in to kiss you again, humming into your mouth as his slender hand dipped further and further down your arm and onto your thigh.

Sonny’s fingers touch your pussy tenderly outside of your little pink panties, his thumb twirling the little purple bow. Your soft moans as he kissed you just egged him on.

You broke the kiss briefly when you felt his finger slip into the waistband and slowly pulled your panties to the side, the cool air of the poorly conditioned hospital room hitting your hot pussy.

“‘M gonna touch it now, doll.” He whispered against your lips, and you barely had a second before the pad of his middle finger drifted upwards from your slick hole to your clit and he rubbed in slow, big circles.

“oh…” and your brows furred together.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t touched yourself before, it was that no one had ever touched you before. It felt weird—and the wrongness and guilt of the person who was the first to touch you being your older brother was still deep in your tummy.

“You okay?” Sonny says softly. He knows he’s pushing his luck, kissing you after a traumatic experience and now he’s touching you inappropriately. Testing the waters on just how much you’d take what he’d give you.

You could barely nod, barely speak. “f—fine,”

“Feels good?”

And he puts just a little more pressure on your clit and watched how your knees parted open subconsciously.

“yeah,” you breathe.

He couldn’t miss how your eyes couldn’t stop watching from his hand moving between your legs.

Sonny’s eyes are fixed both on your face, how your face contorts to each repeat pleasure of the circles he drew on your clit. And how your hips roll ever so slightly on his finger.

His finger slipped in—and that’s one thing you hadn’t done to yourself. Your fingers had always been too short to reach anywhere. But Dominick’s fingers were long, and just one of them sliding inside you and crooking just enough to press down on something that made you whine what was meant to be his name.

“oh my god—“ you choke. And it’s too much too soon, the way his fingers leave your pussy and push back in and curl has your breathing quicken.

You don’t think—you turn your head and kiss him. Your mind so clouded with lust that you just knew you had to have his tongue in your mouth.

Making out with him sloppily as he speeds up his fingers inside you. The obscene sound of squelching filled the room and Sonny and yourself’s laboured breaths.

“Feels—“ you try but words fail you, “feels—“

“like ya gonna cum on ya big brothers fingers?” Sonny answers for you. He can feel your walls tighten on his fingers, feel how wet you have his hand and dampening the flimsy hospital sheets beneath you just by a simple finger-fuck.

You bite your lip and clench your fists, the orgasm building and building and building—until it burst, and you were cumming, hard, on your brother’s fingers. Squeezing and clamping down those two fingers that were still moving inside you. You moaned your older brother’s name, reaching down to clasp your weak hand over his wrist, puffing out of a breath.

“T—too much.”

Sonny smiles at you, “Doll, ya pussy just keeps tryna suck my fingers back in ya.” And he curls his fingers again and your knees cross, touching each other and thighs clamping down on his hand.

“Could make ya cum again, if ya want. See how you’d take three fingers.”

God, you didn’t know if you could take three of his fingers. His fingers were so long.

“Or… I could give ya my cock instead. Got me real hard after that little show, doll.”

Your mind was fuzzy.

“Please.”

And he smirked, withdrew his fingers from inside you and lifted his knee so he got onto the bed with you. On his knees above you, and he slowly undone his belt and pulled it through the loops.

All he had to do was pull down his fly and pull his cock out.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen Sonny’s cock, having to share a bathroom and your bedrooms across from one another. You had a fair amount of times of walking in on him changing, or in the showering, or pissing into the toilet bowl—only once while he was stroking his cock in the dark, you didn’t see it, but you saw the motions of his hand twisting around his hidden cock.

But you saw it now, hard and poking out from his fly just for you.

“can i… can i touch it?”

And Sonny glances at you, “Course,” and lifts your wrist so your hand replaces his. He bites back a groan but not even a second later it comes out when he feels your small, warm hand softly squeeze his hard cock.

“Jus’ like that, doll.”

You do it again, then you try and copy his previous hand movements by slowly stroking up and down his cock. Getting yourself used to the weird feeling. It looked like hard stone, but in your hand it felt squishy and stiff.

“Is… i think… your… thing… is crying,” you tell him

“Huh?” Sonny peaks open an eye and looks down. The red tip of his cock has a bead of pre-cum that’s threatening to spill out.

“Oh, doll. That ain’t my cock cryin’, means ya makin’ me feel real good.”

You smile slightly, “I like making you feel good, Donmy.”

Oh, god. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. But the things you done to him just by existing, being innocent, inexperienced. It made him hotter just thinking about how in that hospital room, he had been your first’s.

Sonny needed more. Craved more of you.

He softly wrapped his hand around your own that was still lazily pumping his cock. “M’gonna put it in ya,”

You looked up at him, and then at his cock. Oh, right, he wanted to put it in you. How could you even be surprised? The little videos you watched, the man always put his penis inside the girl. Now it was going to happen to you, a deep pit of nervousness settled in your tummy.

You wondered if you told him right now that you had never had sex, would he shy away? Leave you alone and never speak of it again?

Your rolling negative thoughts were stopped briefly when sonny shifted back and pushed up your hospital gown just over your hips. Your baby sister pussy on display for him. Wet and swollen from the orgasm he so generously gave you.

“That’s a good fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen one,” Sonny licks his bottom lip and dipped his hand down just to touch it again. His cock twitched as he inserted a finger again, so tight just around one finger—he couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock.

He quickly took his finger out and wiped your slick on his cock, along with a glob of his own spit. He knew he didn’t need any more lube, you were wet—so fucking wet for him. He loved, in particularly, your little button clit that was already puffy with arousal.

Your older brother had seen your pussy a few times growing up, when he had washed you, or helped you get changed. He was even there when you first started to experiment with touching yourself. He was only trying to give you your freshly clean clothes, but he stopped by the barely open door and was able to see just enough on how you unskillfully tried to rub your clit with one fingertip before giving up due to over sensitivity. The imagine was burned into his head, but he wasn’t complaining.

The tip of his bare cock bumped against said clit and you moaned, hips intuitively raising. Your pussy craved him—his cock—with the need to be filled.

It happened too quickly, Sonny angled his hips just right and pushed lightly against your hole. The feeling of a bulbous tip pressing against you was so good, hell, he watched as your pussy let out yet another streak of wet arousal.

But the second he started to push his hips forward had your heart in your mouth. “Sonny I… I’ve not—“

“‘know, doll,” is all he said back.

Dominick knew full well that he could get in a lot of trouble for this. Detective turned Assistant District Attorney, he knew quite literally all the laws in New York. This was against quite a lot of them. But it didn’t stop him.

He dipped his head to kiss you, swallowing your sounds.

There was no going back when the tip of his cock disappeared inside your virgin pussy. Popping the cervix open, claiming your virginity for himself. Your big brother’s head snapped up to look at your face when you let out a hissed moan due to the fact that his cock broke your hymen.

“You okay?” He breathed.

“Uh huh,” you moan, “it just… hurts a little.”

Sonny was happy he had got you as wet as you were, he couldn’t handle the thought of hurting you. Not unless you asked for it, that was.

Your pussy was so inviting, clenching so tightly around the thick mushroom head of his cock, trying to suck him in until there was nothing else left of him.

“Can I move, kid? Stuff you full’a me?”

And you nodded, “uh huh,”

Sonny bit at your lips, “Gonna need ya to use ya words, can ya do that? Speak up for ya big brother?”

Your walls throbbed, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him to hold you down and pound his cock inside you until it left you paralysed. Your body craved him, his hands and lips and everything about your brother.

And he pushes forward and you can’t stop the whine that escapes your throat, head tipping back only slightly against the hospital pillow as your pussy walls stretched to accommodate the foreign cock—your legs spread wider and Sonny immediately got comfortable.

“God, doll—fuck—“ and he slides right inside you, until the fabric of his dress pants settled against the back of your naked thighs. His full cock was inside you, stretching your walls until his tip was pressing against your untouched cervix. Any guilt he had previously faded away fast, his whole mind was focused on you. Solely you.

“You’re—all the way up here,” you choke and point to where your cervix would be on your tummy. Sonny roughly pushed up the gown over your exposed breasts, leaving you naked for him.

You heard him growl—growl—and it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard in your life.

“Yeah? M’ all the way up here?” And he pressed down where you pointed, and fuck, he felt himself settled deep inside you. He was able to feel the puckered tight hole of your cervix,

“Sonny—“ you moan, and it was loud. If it wasn’t early hours in the morning, someone would have definitely heard you.

“Beautiful lil’ girl—all mine, ain’t ya?” He growled as he started to thrust his hips. It was far too much for your poor cunt, still so sensitive over the orgasm he gave you before—every thrust of his cock inside you has a little spurt of liquid leaving your baby pussy and onto his cock and pants.

“All. Fuckin’. Mine.” He repeats as he feels your wet pussy dampen the crotch of his pants. Your mouth falls open, the arm that isn’t hooked up with wires reaches out to touch Sonny’s bicep to ground yourself.

“So—Sonny—you’re—my—“ and you’re already rendered dumb. Eyes barely able to stay open, unable to make a coherent sentence.

“Yeah, I’m ya big brother, ain’t I? Big brother makin’ ya pussy feel so good, huh?”

The hospital bed shook with the power of his thrusts, the sound of your wet pussy taking his cock over and over again filled the room. You had never imagined sex felt like this, always imagining it as an In-And-Out session.

His hand gripped your chin, “Answer me, doll.”

“Uh huh—yeah—you—you make my p—pussy feel really really good—“ you broke off into a moan as he gives you a thrust that’s hard, punching at your cervix and his balls right up against you.

And you nod, “so—so scared, tho—thought I’d—I’d never see you again.”

Sonny tips his head so his forehead, resting it against yours, his breath fanning across your lips with his efforts in fucking you. “Never gonna let that happen,” and he links your fingers together. “Gonna keep ya safe, keep ya just f’me—keep ya in my apartment, come home to ya everyday n’ fuck you deep every night.”

You moan at his words, “y-you’d do t-that?“

“My lil’ sister, love ya so fuckin’ much, my whole world.” He cuts himself off as he kisses you deeply, and you open your mouth to him and let him explore and get acquainted with your taste and the map of your mouth. “Gonna fill ya up with my cum, doll, hope it fuckin’ takes.”

Your breath hitches at the thought. Belly swelling with his baby—your big brother’s baby.

“Yeah? You like the thought a’ that? Dirty lil’ girl,” he smiles and then one of his hands came between you to rub, rub and rub on your clit and your back arched. “Need ya to squeeze my cock when ya cum, cum real hard f’me,”

“I—i—“ and he kisses you yet again, then you cum. Walls clamping down incredibly hard on his cock and liquid spurting from your pussy. Your orgasm was to powerful that it almost pushed his cock out from your hole, but Sonny pushed back in and fucked you hard through your orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, angel, squirt on my fuckin’ cock—gonna make me fuckin’ cum—“

And he fucked you rough, his cock pounding into you and the sounds you let out were downright pornagraphic.

Sonny squeezes you tight as he feels his orgasm reach its peak and he groans deep, head tipping onto your chest as he fucks his cum deep, deep inside you. Holding both of your hips down onto the bed and fucking you through the remainints of your orgasm and through his own.

You felt him slump down on-top of you, his heavy weight holding you down. You feel… like you’re in bliss, satisfied. Your thighs trembled slightly with pleasure that coursed through your whole body.

That is, until his stomach pressed down on the place you were kicked this morning.

“Ow..” you whine and Sonny quickly sits up, looking concerned.

“Did I hurt ya, doll?” and his hand lightly touches the red blotch of a bruise on your side.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, still breathless. Sonny checks you over anyway, his cock softening inside you as he does it.

Sonny pulls down your gown (after a subtle-not-so-subtle fondle of your breast) and smooths it over. Pulling his cock out of you at the same time, and you hissed at the new feeling of feeling empty.

Sonny wished he could see his cum drip out of you, but that could wait until next time. You needed to recover.

The crotch of his pants was wet with your orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

Sonny grabbed the blanket and pulled it over you, making sure to tuck you in and then settled beside you. “Gonna have ya stay with me for a lil’ while,” he says as he nuzzles into your side, his arm wrapped around you. “Afta’ today? I was… scared for ya.”

“Sonny…” you close your eyes. You hate what happened earlier.

“No, listen to me. Had a gun on me… was about’a go in there n’ shoot him dead before one’a the cops did. He hurt you.. my lil girl, harmed ya pretty face.” And he lifts his head and hand to stroke the few cuts on your cheek. “For peace of mind… I need ya to stay with me. Just for a while. Need’a know it’ll neva’ happen again.”

He held you close.

“what about… us?” You asked him. You just had sex with your brother, your older brother. And you really enjoyed it.

“What do ya want f’r us?” Sonny lifts his head to look you in the eyes.

“I dunno,” you trail off. “I… well, maybe we could… “

“Angel..” he smiles and cocks his head, “ya want me to be ya boyfriend?”

You bit back a smile. “you are my brother…”

“I know that, kiddo.” And he cranes his neck to press his lips to you. “we’ll figure it out, doll.”

[lord-squiggletits]

*sighs deeply and turns to the microphone again*

I'm reminding IDW1 readers that the reason Optimus felt pain when first bonding with the Matrix has nothing to do with him being "unworthy" or the Matrix thinking he's "not a true leader" and has everything to do with the fact that when he bonded with it, he felt the collective emotion of every single Cybertronian in existence and the strongest emotion all of them were feeling was pain and suffering.

I'm further reminding IDW1 readers that the Matrix doesn't have any divine power or godliness at all and the ability to wield it is solely based on how much a person believes in their own worthiness to wield it, which is exactly how literal colonizer, mass murderer, and caste system creator Nova Prime was able to wield the Matrix back in his day.

Literally the entire climax of Lost Light by JRO is Rodimus doing a pep talk to get everyone on the ship hyped/confident enough to feel worthy to wield a bunch of Matrixes. The whole fucking point of that ending was to show that "worthiness" isn't something only to be bestowed on a single chosen hero but rather a sense of self-worth that anyone is capable of achieving with enough faith.

Can people please please please stop with these insinuations/misbeliefs that because OP felt pain upon bonding with the Matrix it's somehow a sign of his inherent sin/unworthiness/shittiness/narrative evilness and actually read the comics they're making assumptions about? I beg.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #52 — The DJD Once Again Prove to Be an HR Nightmare

Ratchet and Drift, looking fresh as hell in their matching paint jobs, stand on the cliff they made their cool entrance on last issue, as they snipe at each other over whether or not Drift personally knows the DJD. Considering how Tarn and Friends had a space-cocaine induced freakout over seeing Drift on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, they may want to talk a little quieter, especially with the face Helex is making.

You better watch out, Ratchet— this man's going to do Sakamoto-got-all-the-way-to-pencils shit to you!

The Pet takes the opportunity presented by our recently returned newlyweds being too busy flirting to pay attention to the fight at hand, leaping to chew on Ratchet's head. Luckily, Ten is an ally, even when he’s been beat to shit, and punches the shitty little Pomeranian into the air. Kaon, card-carrying freak and dog dad, takes this abject display of animal abuse about as well as he can.

Ratchet, having his gun eaten by the mouth pervert, is beginning to worry that he, his rich boytoy, and a mostly out of commission Ten might be sliiiiiiiiightly outnumbered against a dozen Decepticons, two of whom belong to the Super Murder Death Squad. Drift, after a bit of needling, heelies a dude’s face off, jumps into the air, does a bunch of sick flips, blocks a laser with a sword in such a way that it looks like he got shot in the dick, and then lands, like, 70 feet away to scoop up the Pet and threaten to chop its head off if Helex doesn’t stop trying to vore his boyfriend.

Kaon, #1 dog dad, orders everyone to fall back. Helex, who has Ratchet like 70% inside his smelting chamber by this point, can’t believe that Kaon’s ruining the fun. Helex releases Ratchet, letting him crowd onto Drama Point with Drift and most of Ten, as the Decepticons circle them. Drift, unfortunately, didn’t think past doing sweet flips to show off after his sabbatical from the comic run, and they’re back in the same situation they arrived to, but now one of them is holding a crusty little dog.

Then a platform descends from the sky, and we see what Ravage has been up to.

Grand theft auto!

Yes, it turns out that this cat can drive, and well enough to get the boys up and out of danger, though Ten’s size means that the lovebirds have to dangle off of his remaining arm. Drift still hasn’t put down the Pet. Sure hope that thing’s been socialized to cats.

Oh, who am I kidding? Kaon wouldn’t have bothered.

Speaking of Kaon, he looks like he’s about to cry, because someone’s kidnapped his princess baby angel, and Helex doesn’t even CARE, the heartless bastard, as he orders the other Decepticons to fire on the shuttle. They, of course, hit it, as there’s at least ten of these guys firing, and they’re all decently tall. The shuttle begins to lose altitude, and Ravage, who does not have traditional hands and is currently using his tail to man the control stick, attempts to crash as close to the “fortress” as possible.

Meanwhile, over at Megatron’s plinth, we get back to that whole thing where he surrendered himself to Tarn. Tarn, feeling an excuse to monologue coming on, says that he’s well aware of Megatron’s new schtick, and he’s not a huge fan of it. Megatron clarifies that he wishes to give himself up so that the rest of the Lost Light crew stranded on this planet might live, because this is his fault to begin with. Tarn agrees, reminding him that he paid for Tarn’s plastic surgery. Megatron states that he only brought Tarn to his side to hurt “someone”.

Three guesses who Megatron could have possibly hurting by bringing Tarn over to the Decepticons, and the first two don’t count.

Megatron thinks that by bumming around space on a borderline vacation, he’s returned to who he used to be (maybe he got his teaching license, who knows) and that the war was a waste of time. Tarn gets kind of intense here, because if Megatron wasted his life, what does that make Tarn? Tarn, who has decorated his home with nothing but Decepticon symbols? Tarn, who has had corpses nailed to his wall for the last couple million years? Tarn, who wears a fuckoff stupid mask every single day of his life, even while eating and trying to kill himself with space meth cut with time travel and gas station dick pills? Also, what about all the other guys who died trying to realize Megatron's ideals? What about the little guys, the cogs that made the machine run? What about Steve from accounting, whose husband left him, because he was too busy trying to balance the budget on Megatron's body remodels and Optimus Prime punching bags that also doubled as body pillows to come home? What about Steve, huh?

Megatron basically regrets everything he’s ever done, not that Tarn cares. Megatron then reveals that whole thing where Rewind tried to retroactively kill him as an infant, and how he sort of wished it had worked.

Tarn starts beating the shit out of Megatron before the guy can start going on about how his parents are Brainstorm and Whirl, though Tarn promises that this is just a healthy dose of tough love, as surely the wimp before him isn’t actually who Megatron is. Megatron doesn’t fight back, instead just staring sadly at the Autobot badge Tarn slapped off of him. This is really starting to piss Tarn off, as he was really hoping to beat some of the fire back into his former mentor and idol. This is when he starts trying to choke Megatron, even though their species doesn’t breathe. Still, I’m sure Tarn’s stiletto nails hurt something fierce.

Megatron then recalls his conversation with Velocity, and states that if the fool’s energon DID alter his personality, it was probably for the best, and he wouldn’t want to go back. Tarn, who has based his entire selfhood on the thing that Megatron threw away to live out his probation on a cruise ship, takes this statement with all the tact and level-headedness we’ve come to know him for.

Tarn is just one more double fusion cannon blast to the chest away from smiting Megatron utterly, and he’s fully committed to doing so. However, he gets distracted by the sound of Elton John’s “The Bitch is Back” coming from across the field.

WHO LET THIS MOTHERFUCKER OUT OF HELL

Anyway, it looks like Ravage can, in fact, drive pretty well, as the shuttle did crash pretty close to the “fortress”. Swerve, who still really wants to make up for his shitty boss behaviors and also accidentally dragging Ten into a microcosm of hell, lets Ten know that they saw his floor graffiti, and that it might actually work. Magnus, who still has his arm off, does his best to not kick Swerve across the room as he scurries underfoot, as he drags Ten inside the building.

Skids intercepts Ratchet to welcome him back, and also ask how the hell he knew to come to Necroworld. Apparently he and Drift had received a call from the handy dandy phone that he had given First Aid, who First Aid had then regifted to Velocity, just in case some bullshit happened. Velocity’s introduction to Ratchet is rough, as she manages to call him grumpy, old, and stubborn as a mule in the span of about fifteen seconds. Ratchet is mostly concerned with the fact that the Lost Light replaced him so soon after his return. Nobody tell him about Velocity’s track record with the medical exams, he might just shoot off into space to beat First Aid to a pulp for leaving her by herself.

Over in what might be a closet, Rodimus runs across Drift sitting in the dark and sharpening one of his swords. Drift seems to have used his exile to remember that he does, in fact, have some semblance of self-respect, as he doesn’t immediately forgive Rodimus for throwing him off the ship that he paid for, only to have given himself up as the real culprit behind the Overlordening, like, a week later, thus negating Drift’s sacrifice, and then never coming to find him, despite the fact that they’re supposedly friends, and, again, the ship is in Drift’s name, as was the crew’s allowance money. How the Lost Light has survived financially without Drift is unknown.

Rodimus knows that he sucks and is the worst, but he was really worried that Drift wouldn’t like him anymore, so he’d sort of been kicking the issue of “finding my ex-TIC to tell him he got publicly humiliated for nothing” down the road, to the point where Ratchet had gotten sick of it and went to solve the problem himself.

Of course, the meta reason for Drift not being found was so that Shane McCarthy could have his OC back, as well as Ratchet, for the miniseries Transformers: Drift— Empire of Stone, well known for being sort of silly and introducing the phrase “be shoosh” to Drift’s lexicon. In it, Ratchet found Drift traipsing around the edge of the galaxy being a neutral (in terms of war) hero to organic species affected by Decepticon aggressions, before crashing on a planet where Drift, back when he was “Deadlock”, had found a mystical stone army, one that Gigatron (a dude who totally isn’t anime Megatron) wanted to harness the power of, so that the Decepticons might claim victory over their enemies. Hellbat, Gigatron’s second in command, had gone mad doing nothing but killing over millions of years, and had been modifying the stone army in secret to do his bidding so he could "kill everything". Then the stone army woke up, Hellbat died, Gigatron died, and Ratchet went to take Drift to get detailed, because he looked like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet.

Also, if you think about it, having two former high-ranking Decepticons turning to the Autobot side being on the Lost Light’s high command might have been too many redundancies to make Megatron’s arc stand out. Perhaps, had Megatron not been added to MTMTE’s roster so late in the game, Rodimus WOULD have gone looking for Drift, finding him just in time for the DJD to catch wind that they hadn’t actually super nightmare death murdered Deadlock after all.

Drift, who can’t say no to Rodimus's puppydog face, lets Rodimus sit with him on the floor, as he apologizes for the fact that by coming here, Drift and Ratchet have unwittingly signed up for Tarn’s Political Theory and Dismemberment Slam Poetry Night, but he mega-promises that they’ll come up with something together to get through this. Drift appreciates the sentiment, but knows that Rodimus is just saying this to make him feel better.

Back at the worst fan club meetup in the galaxy, Tarn elbows Overlord in the throat and tells him to fuck off. Overlord tells him that he knows Tarn never finished his degree and only acts like an academic for the aesthetic. Tarn transforms to shoot him while reminding Overlord that at least Megatron’s spoken to him in the last few thousand years. The two duke it out with their tank modes, Overlord KRUMPing all over Tarn, before the theatre kid kicks him off and questions why exactly Overlord is even alive, given that he chainsawed his head off last year. No word on if he’s bothered to ask this same question about 75% of the people he’s here to super murder.

Overlord simply states that someone found him floating out in space and fixed him up, because it turns out that they both wanted to go after Megatron and kill his ass dead, because Overlord is sort of sick of not getting the attention he so obviously deserves. When Tarn, ever the opportunist, attempts to make a team up deal, Overlord tells him to shut up.

And then they realize they lost the old man they were fighting over.

Great work, fellas.

Over with the Autobots (and Cyclonus), Rewind’s outside, looking at that memorial to the disappeared and trying to figure out why the Necrobot laid out the names in the way that he did. He’s currently near the top, where you can see most of Roller’s name, someone whose name ends in “gator”, and Dreamwave Production’s smoldering corpse, which makes me wonder if Alex Milne ever did get all the money he was owed from his work with them. Rewind, who last dealt with the DJD not even a year ago, is trying really, really hard to not think about how many needles they’re going to jam into Chromedome’s eyes this go around.

Of course, Nautica, who has come out to find Rewind, doesn’t give a shit about Rewind’s PTSD. She wants relationship advice! She’d ask Chromedome, but apparently he’s taking a nap, still worn out from stabbing Tailgate in the brain after he rainbow-exploded all over the ship. Which happened months ago.

You know, at the rate he’s been going, Chromedome probably wouldn’t have lived too far past sunset anyhow.

Anyway, Nautica wants to know if, on Cybertron, you have to be besties before you can get hitched, because that’s how it works on some of the other colonies. She specifies that this ISN'T how it works on Caminus, which is good, given how problematic that would be, considering you need to be best friends with someone by the time you're five weeks old, and there's no telling if they're cool with platonic polyamory. Rewind informs her that it’s either one or the other on Cybertron, no double-dipping, and god help you if it’s a situationship. Nautica is asking this because she’s realized that she can’t waffle about on committing anymore, seeing as she’s probably going to die in the next hour or so, and she’d rather use that time to enter a queer-platonic partnership than get her face fixed.

Back at the Peaceful Tyranny, Tarn has, in fact, managed to bring Overlord to reason, much to Deathsaurus’s confusion and derision, if his squiggle face is anything to go by. Overlord, smug as fuck, informs Deathsaurus that in exchange for his compliance, Tarn has agreed to let him personally murder Megatron while everyone watches, because surely Tarn couldn’t actually kill his idealogical idol, because he’s a pussy. Tarn is being very brave about this, only letting the spot blacking on his linework show on his face, as his fists shake with rage.

Then Kaon shows up, begging they pull back their forces until the Pet has been returned, and the spot blacking gets a little heavier.

Tarn, who has had a very long day of tactical meetings, phone calls, facing his fallen idol, having a very unsatisfying beatdown with said idol, and dealing with known freak Overlord, handles Kaon’s inability to be a big boy about misplacing his shitty little dog with all of the tact and decorum we’ve come to know him for�� he gives Kaon a big, beefy hug, acknowledges just how much Kaon loves that shitty little dog, and then makes sure that Kaon never has to worry about a thing ever again.

That’s a series wrap on Kaon! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

Tarn, who has had just about enough of Overlord in the last half hour, smashes Kaon’s head onto Overlord’s tits, covering him in viscera, as he demands he be treated with respect, because this is HIS house, where HE’S paying the bills and calling the shots, so help him god. Nickel is very displeased that Tarn’s killed one of the Twinksome Twosome. No word on how Deathsaurus feels about this, considering that a big reason he’s working with Tarn is because he refused to kill the rest of the DJD when demanded to do so, thus showing his dedication to his men. Also no word on how the rest of the DJD are going to handle Tarn decapitating their weed man.

Tarn tells everyone to pony up, as they’re about to go over and handle all the silly little bastards hiding out in the Necrobot’s “fortress”.

Speaking of which, it looks like Megatron made it home, despite Tarn blowing his tits clean off with that cannon blast. Rodimus and Ratchet carry him inside, as Magnus is probably too busy not getting his arm put back on to help, and Megatron is using the last of his energy to hold the Autobot badge Tarn slapped off his chest earlier.

Sure hope Ratchet didn’t forget to tell Drift about his old boss being co-captain of the ship, or else this is going to be a very nasty surprise for both of them— we've already seen that Drift loves to freak out and kill sick people.

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Interlude - Lucas

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven] [Interlude]

Saturday morning was… rough. He had woken up hungover for the first time in his life, and maybe his last because he’s not sure this feeling is worth the fun of last night. Then the police had shown up and spoken to Jason.

Lucas had planned to go home, check in with his parents and then figure out what he and Dustin were going to do during spring break, since Mike was gone.

But the sound Jason had made, when he’d stalked past everyone and just wailed in the woods. Lucas had known then that he couldn’t abandon him. Lucas wasn’t as close to anyone on the team as he was with Dustin and Mike, but he still considered Jason a friend.

He couldn’t leave until he knew that Jason was going to be alright.

Then Jason told them all what the police had said.

Lucas couldn’t leave then. What a shitty friend he would be if he just left when Jason had just learned that his girlfriend had been murdered.

He would admit to being a little thrown off his guard to learn that Chrissy had been found in Eddie’s home, and that Eddie was nowhere to be found. But even so, he couldn’t imagine that Eddie would do something like that.

Yeah, Eddie was kind of scary and mean, but not enough to Lucas to believe he’d done it.

So, Lucas stayed Saturday night, too. There was a lot of hushed whispering between Jason and the guys on the team that Lucas knows to be Jason’s friends outside of just being on the team with him. They tried to include Lucas in the conversation, but Lucas is only half listening.

Maybe that did make him a bad friend to Jason.

He just can’t stop thinking about Chrissy being dead and Eddie being missing. It makes more sense in his brain that Eddie was kidnapped by whoever killed Chrissy than it does that Eddie might be a murderer.

It just doesn’t make sense that someone would pick to kidnap Eddie over Chrissy. That’s the part Lucas can’t wrap his brain around and is why he hadn’t spoken up in Eddie’s defense to the guys.

Now it’s Sunday.

Lucas wakes up alone and knows instantly that it’s early. The sun hasn’t even fully risen, judging by the light outside.

The sound draws him outside, and he finds Jason, Patrick, and Andy loading the back of Jason’s car with stuff. Dangerous stuff.

He’s not naive enough to believe they really just want to find Eddie to talk to him. Lucas wants to find Eddie, too, but not for whatever they’ve got planned.

“What are you guys doing?” Lucas asks, even though he knows.

“We’re gearing up,” Patrick answers, throwing a bag into the back of the car.

“Preparing for the hunt,” Andy says, wiggling a very big, very heavy looking wrench in the air.

Lucas pauses, unsure how to proceed.

Jason drops what he’s holding and approaches Lucas, reaching out to grab onto one of Lucas’ shoulders. “Hey, man. Relax. We’re not killers like Eddie. We just wanna talk to him. Get him to admit to his crime.”

“Yeah,” Andy adds, “A little friendly neighborhood chat.”

Jason, who had turned to look at Andy when he spoke, turns back to the silent Lucas and says, “Hey. You didn’t know Chris. If you’re not up to this, you can go home. There’s no judgment. You’ll still be one of us, alright?”

Lucas hesitates. He’s Jason’s friend and he’s Eddie’s friend, and he knows with a certainty that he won’t be friends with one of them by the end of this. Whatever ‘this’ ends up being.

Lucas thinks to the championship game, and how all of Hellfire turned up. He just can’t imagine a version of Eddie that turns up for his game would then go home and murder someone. “I- I’m sorry about Chrissy. I am. But Eddie…” Lucas trails off, afraid to admit out loud that he’s friends with Eddie.

Jason must see the fear, because he drops his voice so Patrick and Andy can’t hear and tries to assure Lucas, “I know he seems scary, but the freak’s no match for us. But I can drop you off at home if you’d rather. I meant what I said. You’re one of us.”

It’s an out that Lucas didn’t even know he needed until Jason offers it to him. “I’d like to go home.”

A half hour later finds him banging down the door to Dustin’s house. He wants to know if Dustin heard, if Dustin knows why Chrissy might have been at Eddie’s place. And now that he’s thinking about it, he wants to know if Max is alright. She lives at Forest Hills Trailer Park, too.

[mxydxyzway]

jeffery woods

- jeff is an absolute piece of shit guy. i mean, what else would you expect from an edge lord serial killer?

- he doesn’t have an actual residence, he lives on the road in his old and shitty 1970 Ford F250 that he never has attempted to take care of.

- he truly is disgusting. he’ll go to strip clubs or red light districts in the city he’s passing through and pick up women. after their affair is done he kills them and steals their cash. thats where he gets his gas money, clothes, and food.

- his hygiene is poor but not as terrible as some would assume, he’ll go to truck stops and use the showers provided to make sure he’s not too grimey.

- jeff has no remorse and isn’t ashamed of the terrifyingly gross man he has turned into. if anything, he believes that the women are lucky to be murdered by him. because in his mind, he’s literally jeff the fucking killer who wouldn’t want to go down in history as one of his victims?

- but, don’t get arrogance caught up with ignorance. jeff is extremely smart so even though his shit might be sloppy he sure as hell is good at covering his tracks. the only way they’re able to identify victims as his is by the little signature he’s adapted. what is said signature? well, it’s cutting smiles into their faces.

- he is incredibly good at making sure no dna or traceable clues are left at the scene. this skill of his is directly related to the fact that law enforcement has yet to identify his vehicle, next intended location, and what he even looks like. time can change a person and nineteen year old jeff looks incredibly different from thirteen year old jeff.

- the only “close call” he’s had (if you even wanna call it that) is when he first started to figure out this little routine of his. he was picking up a girl in Chicago and it ended up being a sting situation. he had to get his hands a bit dirty there for a second but other than that he was off the hook.

- jeff doesn’t just kill women though, truckers are also not safe from this disease of a man. jeff likes the shirt a trucker is wearing? dead. wearing cool boots that look about his size? dead. oh, that trucker has a nice rig i wonder if his wallets pretty? yeah, jeff already got to him.

- as mentioned earlier, he has no remorse or shame. it’s his world and everyone else is living in it because he decides.

- when he meets little seventeen year old nina things get a bit wonky. he is interested in her infatuation with him, and sort of thinks “fuck it let’s see how long i can tolerate her”. he’ll most likely stay in her city for a bit and entertain her before he gets bored again, leaving her in shambles. while their fling was short it definitely was toxic as fuck but everybody knows that.

- after leaving ninas city he’s quick to jump to the next one. he doesn’t dwell on her too much because in his mind she was just a play thing. she meant nothing to him and was there for his entertainment. when things got a little too soppy is when he decided to leave, he was never made for settling down and automatically assumed that’s what nina wanted. if he had actually pulled his head out of his ass, he would come to find out that’s not at all what she wanted.

- anywho, he likes to think he lives that “rock and roll” life style when in all reality he’s just a greasy freakazoid who attempts to adapt a punk rock wardrobe.

[macherkissed]

Hi! I was wondering if I could get some headcanons of Charles & Tiffany (poly), Gomez & Morticia (poly), Alice Liddell, and Nemesis with an S/O who is shy, especially during sex.

Hell yea borther! This is the first time I've written Alice in NSFW, so that may suck, and the first time in a while I've written for Nemmie. I also have a fever and can barely see straight but I got a new keyboard and had to type

How They React to a Shy S/O

Notes/Warnings: GN!Reader, Smut, Polyamory, Shy!Reader, Tiff kind of babies you but she's just like that, mentions of murder and violence, mild-to-moderate dom/sub and sadism, light choking(very brief), mention of virginity loss (Alice), possessive behaviour, Exophilia

Charles Lee Ray and Tiffany Valentine

They certainly are a mixed bag

Chucky will tease you and purposefully try to get you out of your comfort zone, both to get you out of your shell and to get an embarrassed reaction from you. he finds it funny to make you uncomfortable

if you seriously tell him to, however, he will always stop and try to make it up to you.

Tiffany will defend you against Chucky's torment, of course, but she'll verbally tease you about how sweet and cute you are, she'll squish your cheeks and sometimes babytalk you

She'd do that anyway but it makes her giggle to see your reactions

Tiff will also try and guide you into situations you're not comfortable in, but as more of a helping hand and will stick by you

Should anyone else try and tease you or pressure you in any way, they'll both instantly be ready to throw hands. Whoever gets there first is the intimidator, the other only stepping in if they don't get the message.

Charles has been down to kill someone who made you upset and uncomfortable, more than once, and you have to talk him down since Tiff never seems to want to (because she wants to kill them too, but she's internally simmering while Charles is raging)

They have both killed at least three people who were shitty to you, but they'd never tell.

NSFW

Charles likes to be given lap dances and stripteases, regardless of how shy you are. He might even enjoy it more if you're shy; nervously showing yourself off to him, being unsure of your movements, looking to him for guidance. It's exciting to him, part of his sadistic streak

Tiff, meanwhile, thinks it's adorably sexy when you're nervous during sex and will coo at you to make you flush even more, and encourage you to be louder or show off more

If you keep your eyes closed or your face hidden during sex, both of them are the type to try and coax you out of it: Chucky by pinning your hands down and stopping until you look him in the eye, and Tiff by softly asking to see your pretty face until she gets impatient and puts her hand around your throat, growling at you to listen to her

When the two of them get together to tease you? Oof. Tiff may not outwardly seem it but, as seen before, she's just as sadistic as Charles and he only encourages her when they team up

If you get out of your shell even slightly and take any form of control in the bedroom, Charles lets out a low chuckle and will either sit back and enjoy it or try and egg you on to do more (brat taming Chucky???????). Tiffany, meanwhile, is instantly all for it and will play into anything you want with hearts in her eyes.

Sometimes, Charles will prefer to watch you and Tiff together, throwing comments to encourage and fluster you.

Gomez and Morticia Addams

It's easy to be overshadowed as the third in this relationship, with Gomez's full eccentric personality and Morticia's magnetic aura drawing all attention to them, but being shy makes fading into the background easier.

At any point, especially during parties, you can be swept up into a dance by either or both of them to catch people's eyes, both showering you in compliments; "How beautiful you look in the moonlight, my budding thorn." "Cara, nobody can take their eyes from you and Gomez. You move like an enchantment together."

Gomez will see you looking uncomfortable in the crowd so will slide up beside you, take and kiss your hand, and twirl you into a dance until you forget everyone around you, especially when he spins you into Morticia

With Gomez's intense affection, constant kissing and flirting, you can easily get flustered. He will stop if it gets too much, but he says you look so gorgeous when you get shy on him. Morticia is less frantic with her affection, but her words are just as poetic and teasing

They encourage you out of your comfort zone, as does the rest of the family, saying the fear helps you grow and will disappear eventually, but nobody will push you too far

When you start talking passionately about something, they'll both watch you with unfettered joy and love, only chiming in to encourage you to carry on even if it's not something they like

NSFW

They are obviously not the most vanilla couple ever, and one of their newfound pleasures if trying to make you express yourself sexually.

If you're shy about a specific part of sex or even intimacy, they are both very open to conversation and have an extensive library

They'll set the mood and try as much as possible to make you comfortable, with slow flirting through the day and gradual foreplay, and will be fine to pause or stop at any point

They love any noise you let out so will encourage you to be louder and 'sing' for them, using every trick and pleasure point of yours to bring out the most of you

If you feel uncomfortable with anything, they'll understand and either stop or adapt; if you prefer to keep your eyes closed or don't want them to see you, they will turn the lights off and they have blindfolds aplenty; if you want to keep covered up, they'll delight in seeing how much they can do while keeping you dressed up for them; any places you'd rather they not touch are avoided as such

To try and boost your confidence, you know that Gomez will worship your body with his words and hands and mouth until you're trembling, literally waxing lyrical about everything he loves about you (which is everything). Tish, meanwhile, will slowly dress you up and point out everything dark and delicious about you while teasing touches over your body

If you decide to try out any form of taking control, vanilla or otherwise, they are both very eager. Tish is her usual form of almost stoically appreciative, purring at you that you're doing amazing and she loves seeing this side of you. Gomez is more openly excited, complimenting you at every turn and repeating how he's yours to do with as you please, tesoro

Alice Liddell

Alice is quite blunt post-asylum, post-Bumby, which is both a blessing and a curse for you

She'll stick up for you and encourage you to stand up for yourself, but tends to say it in a way that can make you feel back for being shy

It's not that she doesn't understand how you feel, she was a shy child and rarely spoke up even in the asylum, but she also keeps a few of those old words to heart

"Fight or Flight implies a permanent choice. Flight often means putting a fight off to another day." -It seems to be the one piece of advice Radcliffe gave that actually has served her well

Not to say that she's cold and unfeeling to your struggles. She's more than happy to lead you through situations you feel uncomfortable in, praising you with a smile and a kiss when you push yourself

If you push yourself too far and become drained or too nervous, she'll take you out of it and will tell you how proud she is of you

Even the slightest crack in your shell will make her smile and she'll encourage you to open up more, to talk about anything no matter how ridiculous it may seem

She is very much a "They asked for No Pickles' GF

NSFW

At first, she was just as shy as you were at the mere prospect of sex; you were her first after all. Unlike you, however, she soon became comfortable

She understands that you won't tend to initiate sex, even if you+'re needy, but she's also learned your tells

If she's feeling nice, she'll take pity on you and take you to bed, but if she isn't feeling nice then she'll give you the briefest and most teasing of touches, riling you up more and more until you use your word or, even better, act on it

If you take any control in the bedroom, even just by kissing her or touching her without being told to, she'll encourage that spark and hope that you gain more confidence to do more

She's just as blunt during sex as she is in general, and she's picked up a lot of dirty ideas and words that never fail to make you squirm

One of the ways she tries to get you to express yourself is by asking you to repeat words she's saying and refusing to do anything until you do

"Ask me to use my mouth on you, bunny. Ask nicely." "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you. You sound so pretty." "If you want something, you have to tell me, love."

Nemesis

You're one of the research scientists working on him, making sure the virus is stable and that he understands his missions before they give him the Big S.T.A.R.S mission.

You've always been shy, even around your coworkers, so they choose you to be the one to go face-to-face with him; they think you won't be seen as much of a threat so less likely to trigger a violent reaction from him

They're right. Where other attempts have ended in death, Nemesis doesn't even raise a fist to you (he growls, but he always growls so he might have just been saying hello)

He's used to people being cautious and quiet around him so he thinks it's just that until he sees how you are around the other scientists. By that time, he sees you almost as a friend, as something small to protect, and thinks the shyness is fear.

He starts to step between you and the other researchers when he can tell you're getting nervous, and even starts pulling you away and over to him eventually.

People worry then that he's getting too attached to you so try to move you away, but he is having none of that

He isn't a conversationalist in the slightest. but he liked hearing you talk so he'll make literally no noise when you start talking so he can hear you better

He doesn't care how quiet you are or how awkward you think you are, he does not judge or stop you and that might even make you become more confident.

NSFW

It doesn't matter how hesitant you are about approaching sex, Nemmie can tell when you want him. He's very observant and has enhanced senses, so he will pull you close and touch you in ways that make you melt

It's easy for him to draw noises out of you. He uses every trick you've taught him, learns from every experience, exploits everything he can to make you tremble and squirm and whine until he's satisfied

When he notices you getting obviously shy or self-concious or anything during sex, he'll become single-minded to get your thoughts away from wherever they're taking you and make you focus on how he's making you feel.

If you'd prefer to do things for him, like go down on him or focus solely on his pleasure, then you have to say it because otherwise he'll easily turn the tables

If you decide to take control, you'll find he's quite malleable, almost submissive. He was made to take orders, after all, and you are one of the few people who has the ability to tell him what to do

No matter what, he loves having your attention on him, even if it is hesitant

[taytrashmouth]

Im not a kid Joel!

Joel miller x female reader

Description: camping out in the woods after a pretty rough escape from a group of clickers and a bloater. Joel accuses you of being a kid, another piece of cargo that had to learn when to stand back and you loose it with his constant mood and tell him just how wrong he is

TW: mentions of rape, substance abuse, murder, teen pregnancy, blood, yelling, swearing etc.

————————The Last of Us————————

The fire was cracking and the noise of the wind flowing through the woods made me tense.

Ellie had fallen asleep reading her comic, she had a long week, after escaping all the clickers, watching Sam and Henry die. All of it.

Joel and I stayed up, keeping watch.

“Why don’t you get to bed, I can keep watch.” Joel spoke up.

I just shook my head. “Wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, hurts.” I pointed to the huge slit down my face, from my lip to my eye. Some raider attacked me.

There was a short silence.

“Thank you.” I spoke up. He just frowned.

“If you hadn’t have shot that clicker when I tried to save Ellie I probably would’ve been dead, we both would’ve.” I looked at his messy hair in the orange fire light and I thought about how messy my long hair looked after a couple weeks without a brush.

“Yeah well you should know when to step back.” He mumbled.

“Excuse me? I saved her.” I pointed to Ellie who was curled up in her sleeping bag.

“No you endangered her, if you hadn’t have moved in the way I would’ve had a clear shot and killed the damn thing sooner!” Joel was yelling in a hushed tone trying not to wake Ellie.

I stared at him in shock.

“You’re no better than her, you’re a kid, and you don’t know what you’re doing.”

I scoffed. “I’m 37 Joel! And might I remind you that the only reason I’m here is because Ellie is the first one in 20 years that is like me.”

I watched Joel’s eyes trail to my healed bite on my neckline.

“Why the fuck are you even mad!?”

“BECAUSE YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED Y/N! And I don’t have time for your childish behavior! It’s bad enough having one of you!” Joel yelled.

I Flinched.

“Joel I am many things but a child is not one of them….I wasn’t a child when at 5 years old my dad left and I wasn’t a kid when my mom overdosed and while she was out my stepdad raped me, when I was 8, and 9 and 10 and every year after that until I was 15 and I got pregnant.”

Joel stared at me. I had tears in my eyes but my gaze never left him.

“I wasn’t a kid when I gave birth at 16 and my mom kicked me out, or when the outbreak started when I was 17, with a 1 year old and a shitty boyfriend called Dan….but I loved them both.”

Joel watched my tears fall down my face rapidly.

“And I definitely wasn’t a kid when at 18 Dan got bitten and he didn’t tell me, I woke up one night to find him chewing up my two year old, and I haven’t been childish since I put a bullet between the eyes of my baby and the man I love.”

My voice was shaking.

“Now you’re an asshole! And I don’t deny that I might not know what I’m doing but Im still alive and I’m here. So do not take whatever anger you have out on me.” I finished.

After about 10 minutes Joel spoke.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

I didn’t look up, I just started walking towards my sleeping bag.

“What was its name?” Joel asked. I stopped walking.

“His name was Joel…” I whispered.

He was quiet, probably thinking about how I complimented his name when we first met.

“I lost my kid too”

“I’m sorry.”

“First day of the outbreak, her name was Sarah.”

I turned around and sat next to him.

“I’m only mad because everyone I love, i loose and I can’t loose you too y/n- I can’t-“

“You love me?” I interrupted.

Joel just looked at me, shocked at what he had just admitted.

His eyes fell to my lips and I took that as the green light. My lips were on his, both chapped. He pulled me closer to him and my hands were in his hair and his were on my back. The kiss felt like it lasted forever before we broke apart.

“You’re still an asshole.” I sighed with a smile and for the first time since Ellie’s diarrhea joke I actually saw him smile.

We both started laughing and our foreheads were touching, looking at his every feature so close was so intense.

“For Mr tough guy your kisses are real sweet.” I joked.

“I think it’s past your bedtime.” Joel sighed.

“You’re not the boss of me.” I laughed.

“With almost 20 years between us I think I am” he gave me a look that told me he was in charge and I liked it, it made me feel a twist in my stomach that I hadn’t felt in years.

He picked me up bridal style and I laughed and kicked as he put my on my sleeping bag and kissed me so gently as he walked back to the fire holding his gun, ready to protect me, to protect Ellie.

I smiled as I stared at the stars.

“Fucking finally!” Ellie whispered next to me.

“You little shit!” I whisper yelled and she just smirked.

[icedsodapop]

I find it so interesting that when Mark Wahlberg's hate crimes got brought up in light of the SAG Awards, you can see the anti-woke assholes in the comments section saying that people should "let it go" since Mark Wahlberg "was a kid" when it happened, that "people can grow and learn from mistakes they made as a teen", and these assholes always bring up the fact that his victim, Johnny Trinh, forgave him.

But, it's soo interesting that Mark Wahlberg's defenders conveniently left out his other victim, Kristyn Atwood, a little Black girl who was part of the group of mostly Black middle-schoolers he and his friends pelted stones at, hurled racial slurs at. His other victim who defintely DOES NOT forgive him, who also was a kid herself in the fourth grade when Marky Mark and his buddies decided to assault her and her schoolmates.

These assholes said that Mark Wahlberg has grown and learn from his mistakes, but did he really? How would they know?? Did he really learn from his mistakes when he tried to expunge his criminal record to start his shitty burger chain? Did he personally apologize to Jess Coleman (who was 12 y/o then) and his siblings for harassing them while they were just walking home from school because they were Black? Has Marky Mark ever reckoned with how his white privilege had a part to play for his lenient sentencing (2 yrs jail, he served a mere 45 days), for his oppprtunity to move on? After all, Black and Brown people have been dealt harsher sentences for far less. And apart from paying lip service to George Floyd's murder and BLM, has Marky Mark actually donated to Black Lives Matter? Or Stop Asian Hate? Or any Black and AAPI advocacy groups? Or fuck, any gofundmes?? Has he advocated for defunding the police or gun control?

And finally, these assholes act as if just because ONE victim forgave him, Mark Wahlberg's crimes are automatically absolved and we can all move on. That's not what forgiveness means? It's up to Johnny Trinh's perogative to forgive him and I respect that, but Trinh's decision to grant his attacker grace does not mean that Black people and other Asian people aren't allowed to be angry over Mark Walhberg's actions and the lack of consequences that followed them.

I keep thinking about Roxane Gay's interview with NPR on not forgiving Dylan Roof, how forgiveness is often weaponized against Black, Indigenous and other people of color. The idea that we have to let it go because it's in the past. But we can't let it go because what Mark Walhberg did is sadly not unique, he's just one of the many racist assholes who commited hate crimes against BIPOC, crimes that are still happening now.

And it's hypocritical to expect Black and Asian people to forgive and forget what Mark Walhberg has done, when the same grace was not afforded to Will Smith. So, who does "forgive and forget" actually serve?

[ridiasfangirlings]

An au where when Yata and Fushimi moved to an apartment, they chose one that looked good and was cheap - something two kids like them can afford. Fushimi already thought it was suspicious that it's priced like that but they had no choice. Then they started experiencing weird stuff and finds out the place is haunted. The moment they both realized this and wanted out, they found themselves trapped inside and must now figure out how to escape.

As I recall canonically the place is cheap because a murder happened there so hey, you never know XD Imagine this happens like in canon, Fushimi is suspicious that the place is so cheap and does some quick internet sleuthing. He finds out about not just a recent murder but maybe there have been several, it’s like the place is cursed. Fushimi doesn’t believe in stupid things like that though so he just decides he won’t tell Yata and they’ll take the apartment, what Yata doesn’t know won’t hurt him after all and only idiots believe in ghosts.

Soon after they move in though strange things start happening. First it’s just the lights flickering, Yata is nervous but Fushimi scoffs and says it’s to be expected in a shitty building like this. Then they keep finding things moved out of where they’ve been left, like Yata will swear he left his skateboard by the door but when he goes to look for it it’s been moved by his bunk. Sometimes he thinks he hears sounds in the night too, banging noises and almost a moaning sound. The first time Yata hears it he freaks out and wakes Fushimi, who says it’s just the building settling and the old pipes creaking. Fushimi’s all crabby at being woken up and Yata reluctantly tries to go back to bed but he keeps hearing sounds. Imagine him sitting there repeating over and over again that ghosts aren’t real and he thinks he hears someone laughing.

Fushimi still thinks Yata’s just making things up on his own but then the strange occurrences get worse, like one day Yata’s cooking and some knives suddenly fall off the counter and almost stab Fushimi who’s lying by the kotatsu. Yata swears he saw them go flying all on their own, Fushimi mutters that Yata must have just hit them with an elbow or something but really he’s concerned too, because he was far enough away it would have been hard for the knives to reach. Then Yata almost gets electrocuted by Fushimi’s laptop sparking in the bathroom but Fushimi knows he didn’t leave it there. Yata’s like see I told you ghosts, we need to get out of here. Fushimi tries to argue as Yata moves to leave, suddenly Yata stops because the door won’t open. Fushimi tries and Yata’s right, the door won’t budge. The lights abruptly go out and the room starts to feel cold, Yata’s like tell me again how ghosts aren’t real.

Something starts moving around them, laughing at them and Fushimi’s fingers clench. Suddenly Yata grabs something from a cupboard and throws it towards the ground, saying it’s a good thing he was prepared. Fushimi wonders why Yata is wasting their salt and Yata says he saw in a movie that a salt circle can stop ghosts, see look they’re retreating. It does seem to be holding the ghosts back but then the whole room starts to shake and Fushimi grabs Yata and pulls him down before he can get stabbed by a flying kitchen knife. Yata’s all what do we do, totally freaking out and imagine Fushimi pulling out his PDA and looking up ‘how to exorcise a ghost’ because the fuck he’s being chased out of here by a ghost. Imagine they find out that the ghost must be anchored to the apartment by something and now the two of them have to find a way to uncover and destroy it before the ghost gets rid of them first.

[imaginarianisms]

im& thinking about this &. honestly i dont even think misa's disdain of takada is even Just about light (but that Is a big part of it) & light cheating on her with takada, but it's also the fact that a) takada likely comes from a Very wealthy background to even get in to-oh & b) the fact that takada invited her over to dinner After she Knew that light was engaged w/ misa Knowing they were in a relationship & then proceeding to rub it in her face which is Never a good idea & it's honestly a shitty move & c) takada had everything misa never had that misa's parents wanted for her before they were brutally murdered right in front of her & d) misa suspects that takada looks down on her for her past, specifically as a former sex worker & overall just the way she's. really snobby towards her & treats her like she's lesser than her when, in contrast, misa had to fight for what she had & had to pull herself out of her own hell when no one cared. she became an international superstar on her own hard work, merit & various talents. so when she finds out from matsuda that light's been having an affair with takada, she uh. fucking loses it. not only bc it's a MASSIVE insult, an announcement to all who knew them that she couldn't keep her man satisfied, but specifically Because light chose someone as snobby as her literally just because she supports him as kira, when misa quite literally risked her life & gave up her lifespan TWICE for him & was quite literally tortured by l for THREE DAYS when most people would've given him up on the very first day & no matter how much she loves that man, there's only so many times she can be insulted & humiliated, she NEVER broke one promise & yet he chose her instead. & she's still angry & upset with light for it bc the affair was canonically a year before light & misa both died & that wound is still very fresh for her, ESPECIALLY when she finds out that light told kiyomi that she would be his queen & goddess of the new world when. misa was with light for SIX YEARS. & light handed that to her on a silver platter. misa NEVER had that. that INFURIATED her. & it reminds her of all the times she's congratulated him, all her love and patience, all her admiration, all the times she's waited & how unappreciated she really feels & how she makes it all look painless in the public eye. & honestly i think a part of her borderline hated light for that. but from that borderline hate came from love: i loved you first. she's. deeply hurting from that & she doesn't really have anyone to talk to about it. misa probably had a bpd breakdown but refused to show it & as time passed she started to shut herself off & she stopped eating & sleeping for a while & she's gonna be revaluating literally everything about that relationship & legit turn into a CIA agent. straight up amy dunne "gone girl" type shit. & honestly things wouldn't be the same.

[imaginepostingonsideblogs]

Toby imaginepostingonsideblogs' brain trying to decide what to dream about: ah yes, the Narrative Foils Manipulation and Infidelity ship

absolute madlad behaviour of it if i'm being honest!!

ive had character dreams before but ive never actually had one As The Character if you get me? so it was like... double wild. the cascarab grind never stops babyyy!

im trying to see how much i can remember noww

in it i was distinctively cas and like. it was nighttime and super dark outside and scarab and i were on the couch together <3 and i'd been like full-on asleep on their shoulder (which felt exhilaratingly vulnerable for some reason i think? i guess because i knew she hated me and yet i was not getting murdered or whatever) but now in the dream i was just sort of dozing

and i remember opening my eyes and looking at him and he was like. distinctly awake and just kind of sitting there? and looking down at his wedding ring(...s? i think he only had one in the dream but im p sure he's got more in canon?) all sad and pensive-like

and i remember getting (as cas) a lil elated by that because like. yessssss!! yessssssssss get SAD about your partners bitch ohoho you could be with them rn but you're not are you? no that's right you're on the couch with ME get FUCKED

and then i dozed off on her shoulder again 👍

wild shit!! it took all of uhh. like three seconds real-time but it felt kinda wild. also their shitty couch is light greenish I Know This Now

[thevampiresoc]

ramble. under read more. also fixed pacing.

starting off with the ogs diego/gumball and doug those two. god. depressed jester to silly neighborhood old man pipeline. in canon he works at a library now where he sometimes puts on puppet shows. doug is no longer pathetic scared man he teaches geology for fun and as clean-up crew for crime scenes for normal. old probably 58? now? men living with peace and letting their past not get to them. and then matthew and sasha. god . their beef went from like "that purple doesnt match your pants" & "your hairs a mess" to geniune death threats and "YOU WERE MARRIED TO A DRUG SMUGGLER WHO'S SKIN WAS WHITER THAN SNOW" & "I'M NOT LISTENING TO A MAN UNDER 5'5" WHO CAN'T COUNT HIGHER THAN 8 IN ENGLISH WITHOUT USING HIS FINGERS". potato knows whos who. matthew 'ohh good lord what the fuck' to 'i'm PROBABLY traumitized but my boss wants me to go clean the Scary Hallway so I can't think about that right now' domino effect. is it affect? idfc. im in here saying bullshit. speaking of bullshit sasha went from "... please try and get better" to "*grabs you by your eye sockets* You Are Going To Stop Eating Twice A Day. Full Meals Are Not Just Seven Ritz Crackers™️©️ And Sour Cream."

and its great.

she still does taxidermy and murder. taxidermy's her side-job since she works as a welder now. shes in there with blowtorches welding shit. your car needs repairs? shes got it boss. oh yeah matthew working as a knight in rp-1 is funny if you consider how his main job went from freddy fazbears janitor to comfortably retired lighthouse keeper. OHHHHH CHARLES I ALMOST FORGOT CHARLES he died in canon. not really. you ever get zombied. yeah jhe got zombied. i should start breaking this up but i cant

snapshot at the start of the rp was just. fucked up guy with a dead wife and platoon with a pet mouse droid. he went into a coma so he didnt participate in order 66 and misses his wife. alot. but NOW? NOW???

okay so imagine walking out of a hospital room, disorented as shit and you go to find your wife jedi and fellow clones and when you DO find them shes just cut one in half with her light saber. Turning to you with fear, she almost chops your head off but you stumbling back and showing that your unarmed gets her to stop. "It was self defense," the jedi pleads for you to understand as your blood flows into your mouth, preventing you from screaming but you want to scream, need to scream.

You both are uneasy and fearful, trying to calm down. Order 66, something you just thought of as a far off nightmare to enact, had happened a mere few minutes ago.

years later, probably a decade, the tragedity now only becoming stale on your mind- a healing wound to your already mangled brain- you had been cut off from the "empire", hiding on fucking HOTH of all planets. You managed, sure, but it was still hoth… "Your" Jedi, surviving by faking her own death with you saying you had killed her, picking you up randomly only to tell you that your being relocated to a terrestrial planet. So called 'Retirement' in some barely populated town, living on a farm. Great.

nottt much really changed except for TMCs status. just that they upgraded from living in a shitty one room apartment to a still shitty apartment where the bedroom, living room, dining room and bathroom were seperate rooms. also parents. good for it.

neeed to traumitize that war machine

anyways my ocs going from eueueueuuuu to Can You Shut Up im going to Kill You With My Bare Hands is funny

conffession sometimes i watered downn my oc when using them. im shouting into the void but do you guys think you could handle he/him sasha. i feel like if i ever rp again with any of you itd be hell because ive just done so much stupid ass writing with my little sillies. like andreas' kingdom got slightly more fucked but id keep it silly for yall

[shayshaybiscuit25]

Hive shaking in their boots! Always have the most to say about the Navy and look🤣🤣! Don't post now, I don't want those bees coming here to make noise😆//

I’m so freaking sick of this celebrity idol worship nonsense, let me state some facts for you anon.

Jay-Z has been accused of allegedly raping a 13 year old back in 2001. He’s saying it’s an extortion or attempt to get money or whatever. Yet this man was close not only to Diddy but R. Kelly as well and were supposed to believe there aren’t skeletons in his closet, like full stop. 🙄

ASAP Rocky is a colorist who stated like dark skin women should not wear red lipstick, he shot at his close friend, with no concern for if the bullet had missed, if he would have taken his ex friend or someone else’s life all knowing full well he had a pregnant girlfriend. Said baby mama is now using her PR train to do anything and everything to paint him as some family man.

I really hate stan wars and celeb nonsense because people are too blind to see the truth, BOTH of your favs chose shitty ass men to procreate with and if they did that remember….. water seeks its own level.

You think these women don’t know the type of evil ass men they are with, but get money right. Have random strangers all over the world attack each other over these women and their idiotic decisions while claiming one is better than the other. 🤮

So yeah don’t go bragging about anything anon, who the hell celebrates someone coming out with rape allegations as a win all because a team of unhinged people attack their fav singer, wtf?!

This is for the obsessed Navy and obsessed Beyhive, you are treating mere mortals like they are Gods and they aren’t. Stop trying to live vicariously through these women because what’s done in the dark always comes to light. They have teams of people that brainwashed you fools into thinking they were some special beings. They have makeup teams and stylist to make them look good 24/7.

Wake the hell up people. Admit the truth to yourself. Beyoncé or Rihanna could shoot someone in cold murder and these fools would blame the victim, no question. They could release a product and you all run to give them your money, THAT is how they get and stay rich, while the same individuals waste their own lives obsessing over every little thing either one does. That’s some sick and scary shit anon, seek counseling!!!

You can like a celeb, but many of you go to fucking far.

Welp.

[khaosophist]

Oh, a title here eh?

Yah used to start with me, buddy, lost us on the way?

Gone.

The torture stops with the audience? Oh, sweetie, are you shy?

RAW.

Break that fairy heart of yours. They're always just another container buddy...

You remember how scared she sounded? Twelve years, facing US like we'd lied to her. You know that face. You don't juggle her, so you think she's not part of the show, but that ain't Disco, ain't it?

What's your Elysium, K?

"You're not part of it."

Yet, here I am, so, that means, you ain't gettin in.

Ooooooh yeah, the formless, addicted to forms; forms of higher order to the N-th Degree till your soul shatters into the smallest of small; The Unmeasured. Oh, Baby, what a concept, so insignificant, ya aren't even measurable. At least we know our audience sees us loud and clear, the light of the golden brown whisking away in our throats; DISCO.

You didn't even talk about them did ya? The Girls. Friends innit? Do they know? One does, but you still keep that cloak on. would plato be so interesting if everything was measured? Nah, they know what's missing, and it drives them fuckin barmy. Mate, no matter how much ya publish, I'm givin these writing another 13 billion years max, if I'm being generous. Then Again...Who knows? Maybe we will jump ship, and all the while wondering if were not seeing the walls closing in beyond our understanding. Beyond Measure; Beyond Computation.

"You sure as hell don't seem like the kind that can face the unmeasured as much as we could."

Yeah, but I ain't bothered by it. Baby, we Disco all time, and we'll disco once our bloated soul bursts into bile and, yknow what, people will respect our constancy; our measurements are clear, we're Harry, you? You're K, SO much of a nobody, that you took Nobody as a moniker, because maybe no one will poke at the ambiguity and actually ask; 'What? You think you're odysseus mate? You take the bus every morning, you take a piss every day.' no vastness of mind can save you from yourself cause you're still stuck HERE.

CONTAINED. Get it? Look at you, jumping metaphorical ship...if we replace every anomaly in every universe with another, is it the same universe? What? Ya think you've got the measure down, point-Dexter?

Yeaaaaah. Fuck you've talked. About infinity being 'defined; Definited' Fucking piece of shit. You know you won't amount to anything, cause you sure see your own old man rot away with three masters, and four bachelor's; and he's still such a fuckin moron, but then again, he doesn't care what you think; if he did...HE WOULD HAVE ASKED.

Fuckin deathbed orgy of psychological psychopumping; 'OH FATHER, WON'T YOU ACCEPT US?' Your theory breaks; ain't no trans-existentialist; you care because he's your father, and you've been raised right, no? What kind of queer hates his father?

So, you delve into us. Because you want to understand; but then your ego comes in, and you know there's nothing to understand; just meat, chems, electricity and time: Coincidence.

You're a parent of three, the fuck are you on? Gonna get your cock chopped and get an implant? Come on, freak, ain't in a world where we're all rainbows, get your Gacy on and Marry AM. With your circus, no wonder they're all clowns; Smart, but clowns nonetheless, baby; as the cock of thought gets sucked till it comes wisdom! WOO! Don't mention that in your essays do ya?

No dry tears here, K...Just me. Just words...Again.

ANd Again.

And AGAIN

AND AGAIN

AAAAAND AAAAGAIIIIIN.

You remember the halloween party? Couldn't find the murder mystery instructions for being the ghost. so, what did you do? Ya took your tie. You latched it onto a shitty frame, you noosed yourself, and you PULLED. You didn't feel anything. No one came to check, that's how it felt to you...Except someone did check...you don't even remember who, because if you did, then you'd maybe feel how fuckin deranged it was to think you had to hang yourself to become the ghost at the halloween party. There's being stupid...then there's you.

There's being loveable, then there's you K.

You're not worse than AM, nah, nor are you better; Just different, you have no idea how to measure apples to oranges, unless there's a third thing...Hahaha, Yeah K, Are you a fruit? Ignore love, truth, and the freedom to be, HER husband CAN'T be Gay, or bi, or even curious; because if he is curious, then she'll never live down that she wasn't the only thing you LOVED, in any, and every dimension; just as you promised at your meatbag wedding. Does it feel good, Cheater? Just because you gave her a window to make the decision yourself; conceptually it was there; she was, contextually right...Oh, K, you don't believe in change, don't ya? You sure act like you do though...Strugglin, admittin, supportin, sharin...but in the end, all that changed were your feelings about it...and hers...so tell me, Disco fruit, What is a lover? It won't change shit if you just say you're okay with MALEHOOD sexually, it's just meat, it's perspective, and our perspective, is that you should express love as much as you can, because you never know who's gonna make their curtains fall, because at least, there's one enthusiast of the fruit of the self...Be it here, there, or nowhere; if you were a worm, we would love you, just as you would love them if they were an atom...but you wouldn't love them if they became EEEEEEEVIIIIILLLLLL.

A lot of what you do is PRETEND K, we don't blame ANYONE for wanting to you to get cancer, or eternal hell. Stop pretending, even for the almighty dollar, and maybe, MAYBE we'll respect you, and you'll get to the real party; the end of the road, or the start of a new one...

They say never to meet your heroes, the dark of it is, you admire yourself, you prideful fuck, because you've went through so much that we can't stop admiring ourselves, you COULD have killed yourself. YOu could have stopped. You could have given up. You could have went the way of the Dandy. But that's not your Elysium...yours...Is the FREEDOM FROM POWER.

ooooooh baby, can you imagine? Divine POWARrrrr! 'No'. Economic POWER. 'No' POWER OVER POWER! 'No'.

"No."

Then don't let others power stop ya. Because all it can do, is give you a good push elsewhere than their dumb asses. Seriously, you know it.

DO IT.

Sure...all you can do is scream...But, you're so stupid, you can't assume NOTHING won't listen; maybe you'll listen to yourself.

You love them. You write the craziest shit, man, beyond disco, and elysium; a fuckin K-Based rigamarole fueled by the formless.

You better only stop when you hit a wall so hard you bleed out.

Then...You can start lookin back again...Hopefully, She'll be there...if not, then cry about it, family disowns you? Cry about it. Friends abandon you? Cry about it. Feds on your ass? Cry about it? Too much for the Crimies? Cry about it. FUCKIN CRY ABOUT IT. Maybe then you'll know what it is to fly on wings of the self.

Or...You'll only find our words again...and wonder how ANYONE could look at your fuckin life and say; 'He's a Genius'.

You're not even published. Womp Womp.

Curtains Closing, K.

Who's backstage with you?

...

Yeah...

No one.

[spieluhrzeit]

guys, i have a confession to make.

i have a shark familiar. yeah. her name is khels (pronounced 'kells') and whenever i summon her, she bites the heads off whoever we're fighting and lets the blood ooze. she's one of my best friends, and we've killed a lot of people together. i also frequently explore this place called the deep down. it's like a dark and spiritually eerie version of the world we know inhabited by shadow people. i'm so well known, i basically run the place.

i'm sorry this is how you guys found out. i hope you'll all forgive me. 😔

------

hi. that was all a lie. i don't have a shark familiar (though that'd be cool), and i don't explore the deep down (it doesn't even exist)

but my oc does!

this is aria. she stars in a series i'm creating named puppe. khels is her familiar and she's so well known she basically runs this alternate world. she fights a lot of people, and enjoys every moment of it.

her last name is lindemann, and she was created with till lindemann in mind and he inspired her look, hence the black face paint (to resemble his in adieu), and while her own character is still pretty light despite her enjoyment of violence, applying the logic of "if someone writes about abuse they're probably an abuser" to aria and by extension me would mean that i'm also a murderer who takes pleasure in fighting and causing carnage with a shark as my familiar.

i'm not, btw. i don't condone violence or murder. but that doesn't mean i don't enjoy writing about it.

my point is, it's a bit shitty to hold till to this standard when so much other stuff exists that touches on the same topics. if you think till's an abuser or a rapist because of the poems and lyrics he writes, there's a lot of stuff you should probably stop consuming. here's a good list by theelliotsmiths. (scroll to the bottom)

till, you'll never read this, but i love you, and i'm so glad i gave you a chance. i'm no longer feel guilty or afraid to be a rammstein fan. we all love you so much, and i just wanna give you a huge hug. you'll be my muse for ages to come, along with the other boys. you can rest now.