#anyways i love him and he needs to repent and all

[vis3rys]

vis ending in dorn.e for me is so poetic because we are told he would've crossed the narrow sea in a heartbeat had he known of ariann.e and the wedding pact. viser.ys having someone like arianne around who is both ambitious yes, but also rational at times would ease him into settling. viserys not dying and actually getting an arc to heal from his abusive childhood and trauma during the war to making his sister endure some of that trauma by then, repenting by being there at the end.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

“because he never accepts that it's never been about righteousness--it's about repentance.” except javert killing himself IS repentance.

well, it’s like 12 different things, because bro had gone days without sleeping and very little food and water and he already had low self-worth and kept asking the amis to kill him and just assumed he was going to die AND THEN valjean upended his understanding of the world and morality. he was really going through it & there are a lot of overlapping reasons for why he jumps into the seine.

but javert is like Number One Most Responsible guy in the whole story. taking responsibility is his Thing (forever bitter the musical doesn’t include the punish me monsieur le maire scene). how else, in his derailment, could he atone for his conceived misdeeds other than by handing in his resignation to god? in the brick he had already left a note urging his superiors to treat convicts at toulon better, which is another step in his repentance (and another crime the musical commits by not including it). jumping into the seine was another step.

honestly a lot of ppl who like the book think the musical was dead wrong to exclude him from the big heaven group sing, because it COMPLETELY undermines the themes of forgiveness and compassion threaded throughout les mis. like the musical was simply wrong lol.

This is helpful context! I am still finishing the brick, although I have fully read the abridged version, and that detail about the letter wasn't included, so I didn't know that occurred! (And thank you for the message--this is a long response but I'd love to hear more of your thoughts!)

I agree that Javert is certainly deeply distraught and remorseful; like you mentioned, his worldview is literally falling apart, and his actions reflect his mental state. But his death isn't really repentance--in the sense that it's not what God would have wanted. To me it reads like a Judas situation: a desperate realization of a huge mistake, and doing the only thing you think can make it right, namely, ending it all. That's the just punishment for someone so wrong, isn't it?

But true repentance, meaning the repentance that the Lord desires, is about changing your ways, not "paying a price." Had Javert really understood the beauty of Valjean's mercy (an image of Christ's, just as the bishop's undeserved mercy was to Valjean himself), rather than killing himself, he would have lived to also become "an honest man"--in heart. One who could forgive and understand forgiveness, for himself as well as others. One who could recognize that he is not The Law, that he can fall, but that he can also be "brought to the light." One who could accept that men like Valjean, and men like himself, CAN change, and be changed.

It's tragic to me because so much of "Stars," and his character in the book as well as the musical, is about wanting to be righteous, to rise above his birth and the sinfulness he associates it with. It's about wanting to please the Lord by his actions. But in his end, he shows he never understood what God really wanted from him, and that's where my original phrase comes in: not righteousness, but repentance. To live, and face the man you were, knowing it's no longer the man you are. That it's never been about what you've done or can do, but about what's been done for you. That's the Gospel that he could never fully accept.

To use another example you mentioned, that misunderstanding drives why he asks the Mayor (Valjean) to punish him--in his worldview, mercy is unjust, or at the very least, unfair. Evil must be punished; "those who fall like Lucifer fell" receive "the sword." But "as it is written," God "desires mercy, not sacrifice" (Matthew 9:13). God would have wanted Javert to live, and Javert couldn't see that, and that's why it's devastating to me. In his misunderstanding of the heart of God, he misses what would have set him free from the chains of sin he's always been trying to escape.

That's why he's contrasted with Valjean, who (though he carries guilt about his past till the end of his life) is eventually able to face it and confess what he had done to those he loves. He knew there was mercy to be found, if only it was asked for. Javert was too blinded by pride and shame to realize it, and so, while broken, he never was able to truly repent.

For that, you must go on.

[sammygender]

THANK YOU OLI I don't get the season 8 hype. No Cas, Sam and Dean have the same conflict they've been having the entire show with no new angles like why????

YEAH LITERALLY. inital conflict is literally dean being angry at sam for trying to move on and heal which is just so intensely unlikeable and for some reason i was shocked by it and it made me genuinely dislike him. to me dean is at his most awful in s8..... like he's not. he's definitely not. gadreel possession in s9 and like most of s9/10 with the mark is much worse than anything he does in s8 and killing amy in s7 was sooo awful too. but dean is just so intensely a dick in s8 and i was so angry with him and not even in a fun way. like in s9/10 he is AWFUL but i enjoyed the drama. i didnt even enjoy the interpersonal drama in s8. which is when you know something is wrong

then again. im probably too harsh on it and am basing it off memories of sitting through the first half because i LOVE the trials and sacrifice and the great escapist so so much. and i love kevin <3 he's s8 right. but. to me s8 will always be the worst season. maybe i just hate what it brings to the shows canon. sam leaving dean for a girl and a dog (which is NOT EVEN WHAT HAPPENED... and if it WAS it wouldve been justified.... id support sam even if i thought he abandoned dean unprovoked idc.....) is constantly brought back like the worst of his sins even as late as like. s11. SHUT UP. first half of s8 is just upsetting for sam reasons and not in a fun way

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[thot-writes]

solas needs to be bred btw (and also punished for being such a bad boy)

sub!solas headcanons because he deserves it (18+ NSFW);

Solas is the truest definition of a switch imo, since he reflects the energy people give him, so i think if he were to encounter a dom…. baby girl would fold so fast

he’d be (pleasantly) surprised for sure, but he’d quickly follow the rhythm you’re setting

while i believe Solas piped back in Arlathan, ancient elf sex and modern day sex are a whole different ballgame. where the ancient elves incorporated magic far more frequently, mortals in current times are all about the exploration of the body — and how to push it to the limits

it makes for an entirely different experience, one that Solas hasn’t had yet. In some ways, you’re taking his virginity

he’s touch-starved. he might not even realise it until that first kiss. but in a relationship, he’s all about touching, cuddling, sneaking in little kisses, hand holding — you make having a body feel so much more enjoyable, in more ways than one

definitely a private guy, but if someone were to walk in on a cuddle sesh with you he wouldn’t move away. he’d simply stare, coldly, at the person who interrupted, and speak in a polite but clipped manner

he’s the little spoon obviously. cmon. that man screams “come hold me”

during sex, solas whimpers. a lot.

he’s not one for loud pornstar-esque cries of pleasure (although one might escape here and there), he’s more about quiet whimpers and moans and heavy breathing

he’ll bite his lip if he feels he’s getting too loud

But when he does, you bring your hand to his face and gently pry his lips apart with your thumb.

“You’re being naughty,” you say. “I want to hear your voice.”

Solas swallows, a bead of sweat trickling down his flushed face, and he nods obediently. “Yes, vhenan.”

after that, he’ll deign to not restrain himself so much, but restraint is so heavily entrenched in his being that you’ll need to remind him when he slips back into lip-biting

he. loves. being. at. your. mercy.

bondage, spanking, orgasm denial— all things he’d heavily fuck with. it’s a form of repentance, it’s pleasure, it’s pain, and it’s a release all in one. and you’re the only person he trusts enough to dole it out

LOOOOVES eating pussy (or sucking dick. yes he’s bi i decree it). he’ll happily go down until his jaw is sore, and probably beyond that

he loves to know that he’s doing a good job, that he’s pleasuring you right, and he is rock. fucking. hard. the whole time he’s doing it, even without stimulating himself

loves the aftercare just as much as he loves the act itself. just being safe, seen, and content with you chases away all the regret that he’s bound to feel later

secretly loves if you leave any visible hickeys on him, it’s a tangible sign of your love.

would never admit it, though. probably not even to you

if one of his particularly ballsy agents decide to point it out, he’ll glare silently until their resolve crumbles (which isn’t long when they remember solas is a dreamer who can kill them in their sleep) and they apologise

his agents quickly learn to never speak of solas’ hickeys ever again

probably cries during or after sex. just because it’s such a vulnerable experience.

you never judge him though, you simply hold him and kiss his tears away, which serves as both a balm to his aching soul and yet another knife to his conscience

slips into elven when he’s feeling particularly good. you have no idea what he’s saying, since much of it is obscure, but rest assured it’s the nastiest shit imaginable

which is probably why he’s saying it in elven and not in trade, where you would definitely understand him (he’s far too shy for that)

his ears!!! they’re insanely sensitive, even just a gentle touch on them can make him moan

when solas blushes, his ears get redder than his face does

anyway solas is a hoe and deserves what’s coming to him (love and affection)

[sinsofsummers]

logan howlett | h.c.

anyways. here's my intro to writing logan. enjoy these unedited, rambling thoughts. i personally loveeeee me some rabid, animalistic logan like in x-men (2000), so expect lots of that for this. some of these could turn into more detailed fics, so tbh just...let me know if u want one.

logan is a tits man. he loves to ruin yours.

it's like he's drawn to your chest at all times; he needs his hands on them so often that you've just stopped wearing bras.

he'll touch you absentmindedly, without taking his eyes off what he's doing. but like a moth to a flame, his calloused fingertips find your nipples anyway.

he also likes to use his claws on your chest—just enough to leave a thin red line after he's done with you. (once, he drew blood, and he's still not willing to admit the heat that it ignited in him. he doesn't think you're ready for that yet.)

you know he wouldn't hurt you—right? but logan's not exactly the reassuring type. so you just hold still and shiver as the sharp edges run over the swells of your chest.

he loves the smell of your arousal. good thing you're one nibble on your neck away from soaking your panties. at all times.

logan gets you to sit in his lap, hold your cigar for him, and then he'll lean into your chest to suck and bite on your tits.

he likes to see a combo of his claw scratches and beard burn on them.

he likes to bite you. obviously he won't leave you in terrible pain, but it's the marking of territory that he likes.

and logan can be mean. seriously. he'll take what he wants.

he doesn't necessarily mean to be unforgiving, but...he's quite the animal. bring back feral, unhinged, rabid wolverine.

he likes pet play (it's a dominance thing). being at either end of it. collar and leash vibes. calls you pup.

logan's always scowling. you tease him about the wrinkles he'll have when he's older, but it only makes them deeper as he frowns at you.

constantly growling. grunting. he rarely whines, because he rarely lets you take charge. when he does, you'd better strap in.

his claws come out when he's close, and he doesn't tease. none of this, "tell me what you want, princess," and "touch you where? use your words" bullshit. logan fucks. full stop.

he'll do you the courtesy of making sure you're ready for him, but with his heightened sense of smell and his inability to control himself when it comes to that smirk on your face when you know he's in a rut...

yeah. he gets right to it. he'll fuck you into a quick orgasm. and another. and another.

but occasionally, he loves orgasm denial.

"logan, i'm gonna—"

"don't care. hold it."

brat tamer!logan. he knows you can take it, so he doesn't hold back when you need to be put in your place.

free use!logan. he's a man of few words. sometimes he just needs you. and you're always willing to help.

he's not vocal during sex unless you ask for it. which you make sure to.

he likes to be very nonchalant, which can come off as inattentive. but it's just the fact that he knows you so well that he doesn't have to look at you to realize what you need.

you could go up to him while he's on the couch, cigar in his mouth, and just stand there. without more than lifting his eyes to you, he'll pretend to roll his eyes and guide you to his lap with a hand behind your thigh.

he'll hold his cigar to your mouth and wait for you to take a drag before you place it back between his lips wordlessly.

is this an exhibition kink vibe

he'll also just hand things to you in public, doing very casual, domestic things that he won't really acknowledge.

he'll hand you his drink to share, even if you don't like it. he'll offer you a bite of food off his fork (or his fingers).

every once in awhile you'll see his eyes watching you and you'll know. he's quiet, but it's that quiet display of dominance that will have your core weeping in seconds.

andddddd i'm gonna go REPENT!

[hana-no-seiiki]

May I request a yandere bat family with a Venti! Reader who has powers similar including his personality (except the reader doesn't drink alcohol)

I love your writing take care 🍟✨✨✨

B-but Venti’s whole personality is about alcoholism-

I’ll try my best tho so here ya go.

TW/CW: Reader takes the form of Bruce/Damian’s ancestor so they have black hair. But it isn’t their true self so make of it as you will. Soft Yandere. Multiple Invasions of Privacy.

YANDERE! BATFAM x VENTI! READER

You’re an immortal wind spirit. You reached the level of godhood quite a while ago and spent your days roaming the Earth.

Let’s say you were friends with Bruce’s (and therefore Damian’s) ancestor long ago, and after their death you took their shape.

Knowing these two’s genes you were quite the good looking fellow. Almost blending in as their distant relative.

You have no need for food, or other basic necessities. Hell you didn’t even need to go to school as your dominion over the wind allows you to know everything that has been spoken.

But you took it upon yourself to always be there to guide your friend’s progeny, and thus you found yourself in Damian’s school as his classmate.

You seemed pretty lax. Carefree. Maybe even lazy. Damian didn’t really care much about you aside from the fact that you looked a bit similar to his father. Many people had black hair anyways. It’s not like you were super cute and his eyes kept wandering back to you or anything.

But then you aced many of the classes.

He never saw you study. In fact you spent most of the class trying to distract him or conversing with his other classmates.

This caused him to do an investigation about you, where he found out that you don’t even exist.

At least in the eyes of the government and even the files his father kept.

You meet Tim similarly. Let’s say you three of you go to the same college and similar to Damian, you also decided to take care of the other batfamily.

…

You kind of bullied the poor guy.

You clicked pretty quickly and he was swift to start stalking you. But then also found himself with the same trouble of your ‘non-existence’. But unlike Damian who launches a full investigation, Tim has a one track mind.

He results to surveillance.

Dude has no care whatsoever about your privacy. He watches you wherever you go.

You know this, and are kinda bummed that you have to pretend to pee and do other human things. But since you’re immortal and well- know everything- you don’t have a sense of privacy + don’t react like a normal person.

Instead you pay him back by bullying him on his perversions

Like when he jerked off to you changing clothes

Or his secret collage of you which definitely contained photos of you being naked.

People are kind of offput by how Tim is obsessed over you, but are just completely baffled by how you reacted.

Like instead of going to the police or something you breach his privacy back instead and expose him. You don’t even seem perturbed just annoyed too.

In any case all this, including Damian’s investigation leads to you confessing the truth, and telling them that you were there to be a guide and whatnot.

Of course, everyone but Tim are a bit skeptical. But ever since you began helping them in vigilantism and showing just how much you knew and helped them they eased up.

Bruce has a little resentment since you weren’t there when his parents were killed. But gets over it once he found out how you’ve been tirelessly repenting

By stalking them

But I mean at least you tried

The rest I’ll cover more in the other ask that also requested Venti! Reader. Hopefully I’ll get to that soon.

EXTRA: Damian definitely witnessed your exchange with Tim and was jealous that you were giving his predecessor attention.

So he bullied him with you.

[gretavanlace]

Breña

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, oral sex (m rec), illusions to oral sex (fem rec), fingering, etc.

Inspired by this delicious ask and blurb that was sent to me ages ago. I promised I’d get to this one, and I did, I’m just sorry it took me so long. Forgive me 💕

Loosely edited, but what else is new?

“Get fucked, Josh.” Jake barks with such venom your head snaps in his direction. He rarely speaks unkindly, even if it is only his twin brother, who will love him anyway, on the receiving end.

For his part in the exchange, Josh merely smooths a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt with an airy chuckle. “Maybe you should take your own advice, brother. Seems like you need to get laid. Awful testy, darling.”

He means it as a joke. A laugh to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, it doesn’t land and you watch on in shocked silence as Jake slaps his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table before him, and then stalks from the room without a word - his absence solidified by the sharp slam of his bedroom door.

”You shouldn’t have said that,” your admonishment is quiet, issued tepidly while you stare down into your glass of wine. You feel intrusive, yes, but you feel worse for Jake, and that wins out.

”I know,” he agrees with the decency to at least sound repentant, “But I didn’t mean it that way. And besides, it's been months. He just needs to get on with it.”

”He loved her.” Your standpoint certainly doesn’t come from a place of loyalty to Jake’s ex - you loathed her, but instead, for Jake and his clearly wounded heart.

”He didn’t love her,” Josh corrects, and likely rightly so “He loved the idea of her. There’s a big fucking difference.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t insert yourself, but you’ve never been great about biting your tongue. ”Maybe give him some time to figure that out for himself, then.”

Josh rises with a smile that tells you your candor hasn’t ruffled his feathers. It’s so difficult to rile him up that it often feels like some twisted challenge, “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time? Seems exhausting to me. You should try being a fuck up…I could give you lessons.”

He drops a kiss upon the crown of your head and trips off to place his glass in the sink. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here at Jacob’s Tavern on the Green. You want a ride? I only had the one.”

”No,” you wave him off and nip at your glass, “I might just crash on the couch. The A/C’s out at my place again.”

”Alright, then,” he shrugs on his jacket and pats at his hair as if he’s prepping for a night out rather than the quick drive home, “Don’t poke the bear though, doll face. I’d like to keep you unscathed. Kinda like you.”

”That’s funny,” you deadpan, “Because I can’t stand you.”

He wrinkles his nose, offers a quick wink, and then out the front door he slips.

The couch remains your lighthouse for a time, but everyone knows Josh gives terrible advice, so if he has warned against poking the bear, that’s obviously exactly what you should do.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, just before knocking softly on his bedroom door. “Jake?”

Your call is met with silence, but just before you turn to leave, feeling dejected and meddlesome, the door cracks open to reveal him, now barefoot and shirtless…a pair of sweats resting so low on his hips your mind wanders into dangerous territory “What’s up? Bored of my idiot brother already?”

He’s presenting a brave face, but you can see the anguish in his eyes, and also, something else that you can’t quite place.

”He left, actually.” Why do you suddenly feel so stupid? “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem…I don’t know, on edge?”

He reaches out and gives your arm a friendly squeeze, “I’m alright, sweetheart. He just dances on my last nerve, that’s all.”

And while that’s not a total lie, you also know there’s a lot more to it, so you gently push him along. “You sure, Jake? You can talk to me, you know? I’ve been there, I understand how hard it is to miss someone you shouldn’t.”

Searching your face for something you can’t identify, he lets a stretch of quiet carry on a beat too long, before finally shaking his head, holding the door open a little wider in wordless invitation.

Once you’re perched awkwardly at the foot of his bed, hands clasped and ankles crossed, he speaks up “I don’t miss her, necessarily. It’s just hard. Especially the way it ended. I just…”

God, he looks so small and walled off. “You just what?”

Slumping onto the bed beside you, he sighs “I just wish it had ended differently.”

”It never ends well,” you flop down as well, and stare up at the ceiling as though constellations might appear to dazzle you. “Everyone always hates the ending. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

”Do you miss her?” He asks, staring up at that bright, blank white just as you are.

What an absurd question. Why should he care? And were you really that great at pretending to like her to spare his feelings?

The moment seems to scream for honesty, so you hand it over. “No, I don’t. I never cared much for her to begin with, and then she…” you falter and search for a kind way to describe it, “and then she did what she did to you, and I— no, I don’t miss her at all.”

”It’s alright to just say it. She cheated on me.” He laughs a little. “Fuck, how pathetic does that sound?”

Rolling to your side to face him, you blink away his self deprecation, “It isn’t pathetic, Jake. Not on your end, anyway.”

“I suppose I just wonder what I did or didn’t do, you know?” He chuckles quietly to mask his vulnerability, “What did he do that I didn’t? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“I don’t think that’s really how it works,” you assure him, turning to stare up at his ceiling once again, but now reaching for his hand. “Besides, I can’t imagine you not being enough.”

He returns your encouraging squeeze and makes a half-whispered joke, a verbal mask to hide behind. “Maybe I just wasn’t good enough in bed. I swear I know where everything is, and where things go…mostly.”

”Shut up,” you laugh softly so as not to disturb the calm that has settled. “I have zero doubts about your abilities, Jake Kiszka, in bed or otherwise.”

Now, he is the one rolling to his side to face you. “And what does that mean?”

”I don’t know,” you shrug, suddenly feeling extremely on display. “It’s just…well, in my experience, men like you don’t often disappoint in that department.”

”Men like me?” You have perked his interest and plucked at that mildly conceited chord that lives within him. “And what type of man am I exactly, sweetheart?”

”I’m not going to stroke your ego, Jacob. Though if you’d like to do it yourself, I’d be happy to leave the room.”

He laughs at that, “If I planned on stroking something you’d leave the room? Another devastating blow to my pride.”

You groan in mock exasperation at his tactless humor, earning another chuckle from him. You love the sound of his laugh, and you love being the one to make him laugh even more.

”It’s not like it would matter anyway.” He sighs, nuzzling against his duvet to get comfortable. “Stroking something, I mean.”

”Jake!” Your head whips to meet his scandalous gaze.

”Oh, grow up.” He grins, eyes flashing with mischief, but still something else that you can’t place.

He’s right. You promised him he could talk to you, so you shake it off and start anew. “What do you mean?”

”I just…can’t…” he pauses, searching for his resolve. “Not since she left.”

You’re shocked, and unfortunately, not hiding it well. “You haven’t had sex since then?”

It doesn’t seem possible. He’s gorgeous and charming, charismatic and dripping sex. Women crawl for him everywhere you go.

“I haven’t done anything since she left.” He corrects, dodging your stare. “I can’t. No matter what I do. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Every time I get anywhere near I—“

He abruptly cuts himself off, “I’m sorry. This isn’t cool. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“No,” the last thing you want him to do is shut down. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

He closes himself off again with a clipped shake of his head ”You don’t want to hear this shit.”

Alright, that’s it, he can’t have it his way. He can fight you tooth and nail, but you’re going to march on anyway and drag him along, kicking and screaming.

“So you haven't gotten off since the split?” You ask as if it’s no big deal…and maybe it isn’t.

“Jesus, babe…” he teases, “such a mouth on you.”

Interesting choice of words, Jacob.

”It’s just surprising to me, that’s all.” It’s a leading comment, and you damn well know it.

”Why?”

”Because you’re you, Jake.” Now you’ve spun to face him again as well. “You just walk around like living, breathing sex all the time. And you’re also a liar with your ‘mostly’ bullshit. You know where everything goes and then some. I can tell.”

”You sound terribly sure of your analysis, sweetheart.” His voice has grown quiet and it makes you long to squeeze your thighs together.

“Am I wrong?” Oh, you seem to have grown quiet as well. When did that happen? “Because I don’t think I am.”

He ignores your question, “Living, breathing sex, huh?”

”Again, I can leave the room if you’d like to sing your own praises.”

His fingers reach up to smooth an errant lock of hair away from your forehead, “You are the one singing my praises. I’m simply enjoying the attention.”

You’re further hushed at his touch ”You’re a smug little shit, you know that?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I do know that…it’s just been a bit since I could remember why.”

You want this. You want this so badly you might even be inclined to beg for it. Instead, you seize the opportunity with feigned confidence. “I could help you. If you wanted.”

His fingers are still caressing your forehead, lulling you so softly, “Help me how?”

”I don’t know,” you’re toying with the chain around his neck now, avoiding his eyes, “I could…try.”

”Try what?” There’s a smirk ghosting at the corner of his beautiful mouth, and it betrays his intentions. He knows exactly what you mean. He just wants you to say it.

Now or never. “I could get you off. If it would help. I mean, I’d like to…I want to help.”

The strong column of his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and then there is his nose, nuzzling against yours, the closest to his kiss that you have ever been ”You want to make me cum?”

The way he speaks of it, as if you two have been here a thousand times together before, is so sexy your head is suddenly spinning.

You offer a tiny nod and then hurry on before you lose your nerve, “You could just lie here and I could…”

Every ounce of confidence seeps from your bones when his eyes, cinnamon sugar and blown wild with lust, catch your own.

”You could what?” He presses the gentlest kiss against your cheek.

”I could use my mouth…I…” fuck, you can hardly breathe, and the room feels too small, crowded up with tension and long repressed desire.

A needy, hungry groan rumbles out of his chest as he pulls you a little closer. “You would do that for me?”

”Of course I would.”

His eyes are on your lips now, agonized and desperate. “Have you thought about it before, or do you just feel sorry for me?”

He knows the answer. There’s that smugness you spoke of.

”I think about it all the time.” You whisper honestly. “Do you?”

”No.” his hands fist into your hair. “I don’t think about my cock in your mouth,” oh god, the way those words tumble off of his pretty tongue, dripping saccharine but so dark “but I do think about my face between your thighs…how you’d sound. How you would taste. How you might rock your hips against me when I got you close.”

In response, you’re on your knees before him in a breath, fingers curled into the waistband of his sweats, imploring him with your gaze for permission.

He nods with a hitching inhale and that’s all the confirmation you need. Pulling them down, there it is. Stunning and achingly hard, thick and pulsing for you. As breathtaking as an obscene symphony. He looks so ready, leaking opalescent droplets into the soft dusting of hair below his belly button. You doubt you’ve ever wanted anything more.

The flat of your tongue runs warm and wet from base to tip, nudging harder at that special spot just below his velvety head. How did you know? He wonders as he twitches against your kiss.

After such a long stretch of fighting to get off, he’s now frightened he just might embarrass himself and cover your lovely face before you’ve even had a chance to suck him in.

But suck him in you do, without warning, and so deeply he can feel the silken back of your throat. Lurching forward, curling in on himself against the pleasure, he chokes out a humiliating sound and grabs at you…one hand tangled in your hair, the other clutched around the nape of your neck. “Oh my god, baby, please…”

You nod your understanding and swallow around him, sweeping your tongue back and forth. He sounds blissful but pushes you away without warning. “M’gonna cum,” he murmurs through his panting breaths, “just give me a second.”

How has he gotten here so quickly? It’s horribly humbling, but he wants it so badly his heart is resting in his throat, thrumming savagely, pulse-points pounding a fierce and uncontrollable beat.

”That’s the fucking point, Jake,” you fist at his wet cock and drink him back down once before pulling back, “You need it, I can feel it. Cum in my mouth. Please?”

Your please, so sweet and innocent while asking for something so filthy, snatches a growl out of him that flushes you with unbearable heat.

Both of his palms find either side of your head tentatively, “Can I stand?”

You nod eagerly around him, and then gaze up at his face once he is hovered above you like a deity soaked in depravity. There is a pink blush painted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks that makes you feel as soft as warm cotton.

“I want to use your mouth,” he hushes, “Is that alright?”

Again, you merely nod with your mouth stuffed full of him.

”You give me a little shove if you want to stop…” he coddles your cheek, and speaks like a lullaby as you blink up at him in consent.

When he drives inside of you, it is a vicious invasion, but one that you’d plead for over and over again. He is buried so deeply inside your throat you can scarcely breathe, but the threading of his brow and the steady moans dripping from his lips are all you’ve ever wanted.

He’s twitching already against your tongue, slipping deeper into you until you’re fighting a gag that only wrecks him further.

One, two, three, thrusts and he is reduced to whimpers, “Shit, oh god, please, I need it. I need it so bad. I need to—“ a pained grunt, through gritted teeth, interrupts his babbling, “I’m cumming, sweetheart…”

The taste of his release dances across your taste buds as you struggle to swallow him down.

He is shuddering and cursing above you, holding you still as he shakes his head violently in apology, “I’m sorry…” his voice is but a phantom of itself, “It’s too much, I shouldn’t have…not in your mouth…oh fuck, fuck…”

And you’d tell him if you could, that it is a privilege…his offering, a gift. Instead, you allow every drop to roll down your throat as you suckle gently for more until he is shivering in overstimulation.

Finally, you allow his cock to slip from your mouth as his thumbs sweep over your cheekbones. “I— goddamn…thank you, sweetheart. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

”You’re welcome, Jake…” your thumbs find their own place to sweep against - his thighs. “Thank you.”

His lips part to protest, but pull back into a snarling hiss when you wrap your hand around his length “You’re still hard.”

He looks half-bashful, “I’d say it’s been a while, but I think it’s just you.”

”Yeah?” You rise from your knees and nip at his chin, “Have I made you hard before?”

”Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” His grip sinks into the dips of your hips beneath your shirt, “Do you like knowing you’ve made my dick ache?”

”Maybe,” you shimmy your shoulders nonchalantly, “or maybe I’m just a cock tease.”

”Get on the bed.” He demands, in lieu of an actual retort, while tugging at the button and zipper of your jeans. “Everything off. You may lay however you’d like, but I want that pussy on display for me…let me see her.”

You may? Well…there’s that bit of dominance you had imagined hidden away inside of him more times than you care to admit

Dropping down on the bed, completely bared to him for the first time, you close your eyes against his appreciative scrutiny, “You’re fucking perfect,” his words are nearly vibrating, “Stay just like that and let me look at you.”

Demurely, you do as he says.

”Legs a little wider, babe…lemme see that sugary little cunt,” oh, he’s deliciously dirty.

”Hi, pretty girl,” he coos when your knees press against the sheets.

”Hi.” You murmur back softly.

He ever so gently waves you off, “Not talking to you, sweetheart. Mind your own business.”

Your cheek kisses linen as you nestle your face into the bed, content to allow him to have his private moment with your pussy. If that’s what he wants, that’s what he gets

His fingertips are there now, curling so lightly over your swollen clit, pretending like they just might nudge inside you now and then, until you’re writhing with want. “Please, Jake…” a tremulous, tiny mewl escapes you. A vexing little sound that heats your face and betrays your need.

His eyebrows quirk upward, “Inside?”

”Inside.” You nod earnestly.

Without warning, you’re filled with his middle and ring fingers. They search along your walls as his gaze clocks your expression until you cry out. “Right there, baby?” He pouts, mocking your whine. “Is that the spot?”

”Faster,” the blood in your veins is rushing at a feverish pitch, the taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue has broken you wide open.

“No,” he shushes, the soft pad of his thumb nudging at your clit “Nice and slow, sweetheart. Relax for me.”

You do your best and fill your lungs to the brim with air that smells of sex and him before releasing it slowly.

“Good girl, baby.” He praises, fucking you gingerly with his hand as if this is all either of you will ever do for the rest of your days…no rush. “When you cum, can this pretty princess make a mess?”

”Hmm?” You’re a million miles away, drifting through his sea, you’ve barely registered him speaking to you.

“If I make you cum,” he clarifies, pressing up into that place that makes you whimper and half-squirm away. He holds you down firmly, but with such tenderness. “Stay still, for me. If I make you cum just right will you soak my hand all sweet and warm?”

”I can’t…” you flush with inexplicable shame, “I don’t do that.”

”That’s alright…you just let me take care of you.” He sounds like he’s coddling a wounded bird just before he begins curling and massaging inside you with a tiny smirk on his face that seems to claim he knows something you don’t.

Never before has anyone’s touch dismantled you so perfectly, and you’re soaked and dripping; wet, heavenly sounds filling the room to mark your pleasure.

“No messes for my sweetheart? Just a neat and tidy little baby?” He taunts as your thighs begin to tremble, “I think you’re lying. maybe not with someone else, but I know you’ve worked this pretty, wet cunt just right…ruined your sheets, had to fight to stay quiet so no one would hear—“

With a cry that could be mistaken for agonized, you let go…barely there-tiny bursts of slick sprinkling across his palm like a spring mist. Were he a garden, he would bloom so beautifully under the kiss of your meager shower.

“There we go, sweetheart,” your eyes are locked in on his arm, watching the muscles turn and twist as if you’ve been hypnotized. “C’mon, just a little longer, relax, sweet girl, relax…”

It’s like lying in too-tall grass on a breezy day. Warm and gentle like an embrace, and his voice is ferrying you through it all so sweetly. How could she have ever given this up?

When you begin to tense against his ministrations, he pulls back delicately and pats the inside of your thigh, huffing the softest sigh of a laugh, “And you said no messes.”

“Jake,” your hands are instantly hiding your eyes, face sparking heat with a euphoric fluster.

“You did good, baby.” He whispers, kissing a path along your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about that for a very long time.”

“Please,” your entire body is still inwardly writhing and you can’t manage much more.

“Please what?” His hand, so gentle and soft, drags yours downward to wrap your fingers around himself. He is thick, throbbing rhythmically, and so hard, “You want that?”

He sounds in control, but it’s all there for you in his eyes, he wants this badly. He needs this. He needs you…and not simply because it’s been months.

Grabbing his free hand from where it is resting beside your head against the mattress, you guide it down until his fingers are stroking delicately across you, wetting his touch, warm and silken, “You want that?”

He visibly falters, face ducking to find solace in the crook of your neck, “I want you,” he whispers so airily you aren’t even sure you’ve heard him, “I want you so fucking badly. Please, baby…”

His voice is hushed, dragging across your skin hot and wet, desperate and hungry, you couldn’t deny him even if you were crazy enough to want to.

“You don’t have to beg,” you promise, hands now petting through his hair. “You take what you need, Jake…it’s all for you.”

”I need to get off again first,” the words sigh warm against the shell of your ear, “I’m too close. You’re so pretty and warm, and you smell so good. My sweetheart.”

”Well, look who gets soft when he’s this hard.” You tease, gently stroking the cashmere tip of his cock against your clit. “You cum as fast as you need to, let me do this for you.”

Again, his beautiful face drops to hide away, mouth sucking chills into your throat.

“I don’t want to be that guy.” He confesses, sounding shy in a way you’ve never heard before. “I want to get you there, too.”

You reach down deep and find your nerve, “Is this a one time thing? It’s okay to say yes.”

At last, his stare finds yours, “I certainly fucking hope not.”

”So, you’ll owe me one.” You shrug with a cheeky smile to soothe his nerves.

”No.” he shocks you with a fervent shake of his head as he lines himself up, nudging in gently with his pillowy soft tip, “I’m gonna get you off, baby…right on my cock.”

Dirty fuck, who would’ve thought?

”Deeper, Jake,” you’re whining already, fingernails sinking into his shoulders to pull him in closer. “Fuck me.”

”Say it again.” He orders, kissing a path along your jaw.

”Fuck me,” you repeat as though you know nothing but how to follow him into the woods, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please…”

His cock is right there teasing at you, barely inside, working your entire body into a frenzy, you want it so badly.

”Please?” His nose Eskimo kisses yours, “You’re begging very sweetly. You sound like an angel.”

“Haven’t I begged enough?” The words pant out of you warm against his lips and that - the taste of your aching need, shoves him over the edge.

Hips rolling, he slides into you like he was made to fit. The stretch is a lovely, stinging heat that claws a blissful cry from deep within your lungs. It's his favorite sound, he decides in an instant, and he wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

As if the two of your were created simply to share this together, he fits inside of you perfectly, nestling against that sweet, hidden spot over and over until your back has arched away from the sheets and your nails scratch at him for purchase.

”So soft and tight,” his praise is but a breath, “You feel so fucking good.”

”I’m close,” you whisper back, cunt gripping at him violently, “don’t stop.”

”Wait for me, sweetheart…” he sounds filthy and angelic all at once. “I’m almost there, just…fuck, just wait for me.”

”Inside,” have you even made a sound? “Do it inside, Jake.”

”Are you sure?” He slurs, drunk off of you and ready to melt.

”Yes,” you nod frantically against the pillow, knotting your hair, “Do it. Fucking do it.”

Lost for words, he replies with a growl that takes that tightened coil deep in your belly and snaps it into pieces.

”Oh fuck,” his body tenses against you, thrust losing rythym as you flutter and clench around his twitching cock. “Gonna cum, baby, yes…you feel so…fuck…”

You watch in awe as his face twists gorgeously, eyes rolling back before squeezing closed, lip curled into a delicious snarl - and then, with a drawn out groan of your name, he collapses against you, kissing gratitude and love against your throat until the tickle of his hair makes you giggle.

”Get off me,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulders tenderly as he rolls to his side, smiling prettily at you like a kid in a candy store.

”You have magic between those pretty thighs.” He sighs, smoothing your hair. “I’m gonna tear solos up about it. Write the dirtiest riffs and licks all about that perfect pussy.”

”You’re fucking disgusting,” you sigh back, attempting to chase down your breath, “and such a guy.”

He pulls you in close, tucking his body, slick and hot, into your own, “Shh, you love me.”

Maybe he doesn’t mean it that way, and maybe you don’t either, just yet…

…but maybe you will.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

[yayll]

idk if u feel comfortable writing marriage but dazai proposing perhaps...? i love u and ur dazai so baddd you capture his depravity perfectly :(( <3

PLEASEEEE ALL IVE EVER WANTEDDDD IS SOMETHING LIKE THIS i want to see him soft, deranged, and so far down bad for u that he can't even recognize himself in the mirror. thank u baby, i hope u enjoy this!

~ a little something about Dazai and the concept of spending forever with you ~

"... Soo, what are you wearing?~"

You roll your eyes at the way he flirts lamely on purpose, flipping through the channels of your tv. A smile tugs at your lips as your other hand holds the phone to your ear.

"... I'm wearing something warm. Might watch a movie, you should stop by."

He smiles from the other end of the line, your reply as generous as always. He's forever at your beck and call, but tonight is different. He wants to spice things up. He clears his throat, letting out a dramatic sigh along with his response.

"Oh, l'd love to, but I'm currently about to jump off a building and I seem to only have mere seconds left to discuss the true meaning of life before I swan dive right into the abyss!"

You immediately put your remote down and raise an eyebrow, your voice becoming firmer. You were used to this, but the edge in his voice always did something to cause chaos in your decision making.

"Where are you? I'll come get you."

"I'm in the trenches of my own desires, I'm afraid..."

You sigh and rub your temple. Patience is probably the only thing this man has taught you.

"What do you want me to do, then?"

There's a long pause after that, followed by the wind bellowing on his end. He murmurs into the phone, his voice softening.

"...Marry me, I suppose."

"You're dying anyway, does my answer even matter?"

His lips curl into a wicked grin, he loved when you played the game back.

"It may alter a few things, yes. What do you say?"

"I thought you didn't care for all of that official stuff..."

You hear a hearty chuckle, strained and practiced.

"Maybe I can care a little. Come on, cutie. Think faaaast."

The way he purrs that last line really makes you contemplate what sin from your past life you must be repenting for, because that's what dating Dazai felt like at times. You were always so careful, always keeping track of everything in your life so effortlessly. There wasn't a last minute plan or a late night talk you couldn't fit into your routine and you manage to somehow include him in all of it.

You were a saint.

You didn't need to put in all of the extra effort being with someone like him comes with, yet you always seemed to genuinely want to. You never tried to fix him either, but you made sure to always be there when things got especially dark and laughed at his self-deprecating jokes in public when everyone else would stare in concern. You knew him and how he operated, this wasn't going to spook you so easily. You simply cross your legs and sink further into the couch as you reply in a deadpan voice.

"Sorry, I don't accept proposals over the phone."

You hang up right after saying that.

Upon hearing the call drop, he bites back a groan, your indifferent reply going straight down to the already aching warmth in his pants. He laughs to himself for a moment, the brisk wind pushing back his messy brown locks as he sits there thinking about what grand miracle must have happened for him to finally meet someone who could match him. Other couples marked milestones with dinner or a card, but you guys did things differently. He found it intoxicating when you made him work for it, something no one could ever make him do even if it really did come down to his own mortality. He was a slackoff, a total waste of bandages some have said, but whatever you saw in him was the reason he still bothered with the meaninglessness of it all.

Your love enables him to be worse for the better!

Dazai finally decides to call it here and carefully makes his way down from the roof of your apartment where he's been the entire time. He hopes you never find out this isn't the first time he's done this, sometimes his self care consists of watching whatever you're doing from a distance and that's okay! That's giving you the space you've asked for before! This is just a form of foreplay, really. He dusts himself off and walks a few steps to your front door. He knocks exactly one time before you open the door, your face going from pleased with yourself to absolutely clueless in a second.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"I jumped, remember?"

You look up at your ceiling and then back at him, finally connecting the dots. You huff and immediately smack his arm.

"You could have been inside with me the whole time instead of freezing out there!"

He clutches his arm and makes an exaggerated pained expression, quickly replaced by his signature smirk. He nods with enthusiasm.

"Yes!"

You sigh, stepping aside.

"You're a nightmare. Come in."

He immediately obliges, striding indoors and hanging up his coat on the rack. He turns to you, like some proud little kid with his hands behind his back. You two stare at each other for a few moments, your cheeks flushed and eyes narrowed while his are strangely at ease. Not a single recognizable expression on his face, deceptively thoughtless. Only Dazai could make you feel this way in your own home, it was a wreck for the butterflies in your stomach and an even worse reckoning for your heart. He steps a little closer, breaking the quiet streak with a playful murmur as he tucks a piece of his messy bangs behind his ear, showcasing that devastating jawline.

"I was just strolling around the neighborhood when I thought about how the act of proposing is a subversive act on its own. A defiant gesture against the monotony of existence, a true act of rebellion! It's endearing to willingly enter a cage of gilded societal expectations for someone, don't you think?"

You simply stare in awe for a moment, catching yourself from whatever he's talking about. You shake your head, letting out the breath that you've been holding. Patience, you remind yourself.

"Don't be so dramatic, Osamu. You're barely taking yourself seriously."

He tilts his head when you say that, leaning down to meet your gaze with genuinely curious eyes and lopsided smile. A wild fire burning behind them as your answer does nothing but excite him.

"Have I ever been anything but dramatic? You should marry me for my honesty alone~"

You snort, rolling your eyes, as you look off to the side for a moment. It's hard maintaining eye contact with Dazai, he will always devour the last bit of your dignity before you manage to get your bearings. When you don't say anything, he mutters once again, voice getting softer by the second.

"...l wouldn't mind getting down on my knees for you. I do it all the time."

You snap your face back to him, letting out a flustered gasp as you smack his arm again.

"Osamu!"

He giggles, eyes burning with desire. Your touch feels so good in any format, he can do this all night. He hopes you'll go for the face next. He places a hand on your waist, bringing you in closer as his long bandaged fngers gently hold you in place. He whispers, leaning in so that his nose brushes against your neck, each word reverberating against your veins as he speaks painfully slow.

"It's your fault for having a thing for hopeless, lost cases. You still like those, right?"

His other hand tips your head up as he begins to place small kisses along your throat. His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine, especially when you feel the wetness he leaves behind when he nips at the soft fragile skin of your neck. He murmurs once more, purring into you as he slowly backs you up into the hallway.

"... Always having such terrible taste in men, always going for the ones who are more trouble than they're worth. I can't say I'm not thankful, it's sort of why I'm here to begin with."

You reply with a soft whimper, and that makes Dazai grin against your skin, enabling him to continue his assault on your neck. He's vampiric with the way he hopes to kiss his essence into you, a biological love letter embedded into his lips and entering your bloodstream with every little mark he leaves behind. He bites down on your pulse point ever so gently, and this finally gives you the ability to become vocal again.

"Mm, what a weird way to propose..."

He laughs at that, his voice full of mirth and desire.

He pulls back from you, eyes dilated and his chest heaving slightly from the amount of his desire. It feels even better when he knows he deserves none of it.

He traces a finger from your collarbone down to the center of your chest.

"Is that a yes?"

You hum, pretending to think, as if you haven't dreamt of a moment like this your entire life. As if Dazai wasn't the last person you'd ever imagine caring for something so tangible and grand besides death. It excited you, it terrified you. He's scanning your face over and over, trying to anticipate your answer and for once, he can't.

"I don't see a ring."

Dazai pretends to look offended, huffing into a laugh as he keeps his hold on you firm. He grins as he speaks, his finger trailing further down your torso until he can feel your navel through the fabric of your knitted sweater. He pokes it, causing you to jolt.

"I thought I made it pretty clear that I wasn't against getting down on my knees for you. Say yes and these things can be arranged, duh."

He knew the answer before you even opened your mouth, before he even stepped into your apartment. He wouldn't have spent months researching the perfect weather conditions to sit up on your roof and stage a 'casual conversation' with his beloved for you not to be ready to make the big jump with him. The metaphorical one, of course. He hasn't planned something this elaborate since the day he met you and vowed he'd make you fall for him. Even now, hours later as you both lie in your bed he knows you were always for him, undoubtedly so.

Waiting for a revelation proved to be worth it in the end, especially now as he slips the gaudy piece of cheap plastic he got from a vending machine onto your bare ring finger while you sleep soundly at his side. It's shiny and hollow like the epitome of human desire, typical in Dazai fashion. He figures he'll get you a proper ring someday, but for now this will be the beacon of his love for you, a testament that he meant the madness he put you through earlier as your sweet voice repeated a series of pitiful 'yeses' and 'love you's' while he buried all of his doubt and insecurity right into your loving embrace. You handle his misery so well, why wouldn't he want to keep you and hoard your affection for all eternity?

He holds up your limp hand and admires the way the plastic object sits awkwardly on your finger, lopsided and far from what you actually deserve, much like how he is in your life now. He mutters, his voice oozing with pathetic endearment as he places a featherlight kiss onto your knuckle.

"... Till death do us part, cutie."

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini!! Guess who’s back from hibernation!! :D

Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve interacted on your page, I got busy with stuff :(

Anyways, incubus Fyodor and priest reader! (Yes, ik old request, wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember.) punishing Fyodor for becoming cocky bc you were not paying attention to him, he even went as far as threatening to go get fucked by someone else! (He was bluffing. He’s too addicted to your cock at that point) now he has to learn the consequences of his actions when he’s forced to cockwarm you with his mouth while you read the bible, not even sparing him a glance! You even made sure to chastise him so he wouldn’t try anything. Every time he tries even moving at bit, you grab his hair tightly and push in more of your dick, making his eye tear up as he grips onto your thighs desperately. By the time you finish Luke’s gospel, Fyodor is looking up at you pleadingly with drool dripping down his chin for you to finally use him. <3

- 🍮 ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ"

Incubus Fyodor 3

Dom!reader x sub!fyodor

Warning: I’ll use dick - interpret it however you want, blow job, cockwarming, hierophilia - (incorrect) religious aspects, hair pulling, choking/ gagging, dacryphilia

🍮 anon!!! I missed you and your fyodor requests! I love that little bastard hehe. Also nope, I did not forget, cuz I freaking loved those ideas.

Normally you were nice enough to satisfy his needs, he needed it to survive after all. But he was an incubus, his sex drive was way higher than what a normal human can handle. One of the reasons why incubi’s never settle down for only one partner. In your case, you forced him to stay here with you, as if he was your personal pet. To be honest, he was just your plaything after all. The pretext of cleansing him of his sins? A dirty thing like him can’t be redeemed, you didn’t believe in such things anyway. Rather, accepting and repenting for one’s sins, and that is something he has to want for himself. The most you could do was prevent him from being even more sinful. That alone would be of great help, since otherwise he would seduce other people and make them succumb to Asmodeus too.

Today you were busy reading when he came up to you. You knew what he wanted, but this time you ignored it, there were other things to take care of. At first he just stood there, staring at you, wondering why you were so carried away. He took a few glances at your book, it was the bible in the Old Testament. No wonder you seemed busy, that one’s difficult to understand. This wont stop him from desiring you though, so he kneeled down and crawled under your table, slowly settling down between your legs.

“Y/nnn~ I’m so hungry, can we please do it?” Fyodor asked, looking up at you with those pretty scarlet eyes. “Not now, maybe later.” That’s weird, normally you always agreed. “Can’t you read that damn book later?” “This is not a ‘damn’ book, I have to concentrate so be quiet please.” You answered him, eyes never leaving the paper in front of you, scanning one line after another. He pouted, furrowing his brows as he thought about what to do. “But I’m really hungry.” The incubi complained again, though to no avail. How stubborn you were. Fine, if that’s what you want. “Never mind, I’ll find someone else then.”

Fyodor turned his head around, about to get up to leave when he felt your hand on his head. Before he got the chance to question you about it, you yanked on his hair and made him arch his back. Now you were towering over him, pulling his head back by his raven black locks. “MhmMM-ahHHNHgG..?!” He moaned out, unable to bite back a smirk. “I wont allow you to defile other innocent souls.” You told him harshly, without an ounce of concern. The gaze you bore was cold, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. It wasn’t due to fear though. His face was red, eyes foggy and expression melting, no matter what you’d do to him he’d take it with no hesitation.

“Haaah…” you sighed, feeling a little annoyed with him, then you commanded, “Go to the drawer there on the left and bring me the box in there.” He looked at you with confusion, but did it anyway. Getting up to get the box you wanted, then returning to his previous position. The demon watched with curiosity as you opened it. There were many sex toys in it, most of them have been used on him already. You reached for the things you needed, afterwards you put the rest away. Fyodor was still kneeling between your legs while you prepared everything, his body filled up with anticipation. He knows exactly what those toys do, god he wanted you to abuse him with them.

First thing you did was take the cockring and bring it to the base of his cock, it was to keep him obedient. You can’t have him squirting around his filthy essence. He squirmed when you grabbed him by the shaft as you used it on him, it looked so romantic~ That was all it took to get him hard. Then you pulled on his hair again, making him face your abdomen and dick. “Keep it in your mouth, you can’t move until I’m done, understood?” Instead of making him cockwarm you with his hole, you wanted him to use his mouth. It’s because he talks too much, you couldn’t think when he keeps babbling nonsense.

Just as you guessed, he happily took all of you inside his throat, gagging a little at the length. Forget about talking, he can barely breath with how deep it was in his throat. A bulge could be seen on his neck, right there where his Adam’s apple is. “Good boy.” You said, now stroking his head gently, as if he was really your pet. How he loved it, chocking on your dick like this, tears were on the verge of spilling. The reason why your fingers were still tangled with his locks was to prevent him from moving, since this was a punishment. That’s why every time he bobbed his head, intentionally or not, you’d force his face down further, until his nose hit your pelvis. Poor boy gagged and choked so prettily whenever you’d die that, letting out sweet moans akin to an angels singing,“guUHH..! Uh-hm,,.mHMmnGH..”

At first he was pretty enthusiastic about it, after ten minutes he got bored and needy. This only continued to the point he started crying. He was so desperate for any friction he could get, since he couldn’t even touch himself. Well, he could, but it’s not like he can cum anyways. Drool was running down his chin while tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving behind a shiny trail. His hands were bawled into fists while his tail wagged around like crazy. The look he had in his eyes were so hot, looking up at you all submissive while his pupils turned into hearts. Internally, fyodor was begging for you to finally pay attention to him, or finish reading that book soon. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

This was pure torture, was what he thought after not 30 minutes, but an entire hour passed. His head felt light, and his body twitched everywhere. Just a single touch from you would cause him to yelp that’s how sensitive he became. Quiet sobs could be heard from him while melting expression plagued his features. You weren’t exactly done yet with your reading, but seeing how pitiful he looked, you just had to help him. Putting the bible aside and caressing his ruined face, “you’ve been pretty good for the past hour, want to have your meal now?” As soon as he heard that he started choking on it again, the surprise and excitement caused him to inhale too fast. Only difference was, this time you let him pull his head back. “AhHh..! Cough- uh-urGHh..ahh, ye-yes!! I want it, p- guUHH.. pleaseee..” Suddenly he started sobbing intensely again, he also stuck his tongue out after pleading with you so obediently. Right, such a good boy, it is time for him to get his blessing.

[saschuv]

Thinking about how sad the end to Sasuke’s story is and how his grief and anger is minimised.

Rewatching parts of Naruto and seeing Naruto declaring to sasuke to put all of his hatred onto him and that he’s the only one that can take it is actually so strange. Don’t get me wrong this isn’t hate for his character (okay maybe mild hate because he does do a lot wrong, but so do most Naruto characters and I’m not here to get into that rn). It’s just I find it kind of off… (I know people use this moment as a great sns scene and I have no hate against that ship! This is nothing to do with sns) Sasuke’s grief for his clan and deep seated anger at the village and world is beyond valid. Naruto’s declaration feels slightly entitled? I understand they were friends for a bit and went through a lot together during the short time they were a team and how sasuke is one of Naruto’s first proper connections so it’s all very important to him and so on. It’s just… this isn’t about him? He’s got nothing to do with this? I know it’s about trying to “help” sasuke who is self destructing to get revenge and justice. I’ve spoken before how this fandom compares characters’ traumas a lot and how that’s odd, including how Naruto doesn’t compare to sasuke - both had truly dreadful childhoods, I just think they’re two different traumas and whilst both lonely, are lonely in different ways and for different reasons. And also sasuke is so much more than just lonely. Naruto doesn’t understand Sasuke’s trauma and doesn’t understand his anger. The whole of team 7 disregarded his grief and trauma. At the end of the show Naruto fails to give the Uchiha any justice as hokage and sasuke is manipulated into believing he needs to “repent” and to protect the village. It’s such a sad story. I could say a lot more and this isn’t well articulated at all but anyways… if people disagree or have another interpretation I’d love to hear!

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

So, the IT Guy has like…an entire rant about why he hates the Live Laugh Love signs. The one and only time I listened to it in its entirety, I clocked him at 17 minutes and 42 seconds.

I get it, they are legit stupid and basic and ultimately silly.

I also have really pretty L’s when I write in cursive. And he leaves his white board (meaning his entire office) unattended A LOT.

Anyway, after my glaringly obvious attack, I popped my head into his office and gave him my infamous “I’m waiting for your reaction to the prank I pulled” smile. It went like this…

IT Guy: Get. Out. *points dramatically*

Me: *cackles and runs away*

And then a few hours later, I had a legitimate actual work thing to tell him, so I just went in and told him the thing he needed to know and…

IT Guy: *real life thumbs up with an angry face*

Me: *fighting back a grin and not even a little bit repentant* Still mad at me?

IT Guy: YES. STOP LEAVING THAT BASIC WHITE BITCH SHIT ALL OVER MY OFFICE. I WILL SHATTER THAT THING!

Me: *you know that sort of snorting noise you make when you realize you’ve gone to far with a prank but it’s still really really funny? Like, you’re actually sorry about how they feel but at the same time you got the reaction you wanted and you’re trying really hard to not cackle? Yeah. Anyway, I ran away to fight/prank another day…*

So now I’m going to just leave him Red Bull on his desk for a few days (he has seemed legit sad for the last few days so he probably also needs social interaction/environment enrichment, might drag him outside for ten whole minutes) but we’ll see what happens.

[voidartisan]

Anyway. Survived another semester. So. Star Wars characters as things my friends, professors, and classmates have said (plus a few things i've overheard on campus). two for the price of one bc in spring I forgor

Echo: Fives! GO!

Fives: NO! It's a free country!

Fives: *starts singing Republic anthem*

Echo: you can't sing the national anthem and BE A COWARD!!!

Ahsoka: Maybe they just really wanted there to be a gay weasel

Barriss: Hello. We were just talking about how my grandma's dog has a foot fetish

Sabine, in a class discussing ancient Egyptian art: Okay, don't hate me for this question, but, in the movie The Mummy---

Anakin: I didn't hit him that hard!

Obi-Wan: YOU BROKE HIS NOSE.

Omega: How’d you get those washboard abs, grandma?

Rex: I'd never say anything like that to you on purpose. You're like a daughter to me.

Echo: Thank you

Kanan: I watched two squirrels fighting in the middle of the street this morning. Kinda gave me Hector and Achilles

Din Djarin: WHO IS THIS BABY?

Rex: WHO DID YOU MARRY????

Luke: OH! I got t-boned to this song! :D

Kanan: Thou art the bomb dot com

Hound, dreamily: I want my ashes tested for narcotics

Thorn: They got a dried llama fetus. From Bolivia

Thire: Not the llama fetus

Jesse: Do you eat the cherry pits?

Kix: No? I'm pretty sure those have cyanide in them.

Jesse: *slowly removes cherry pit from mouth*

Obi-Wan: You'd think that with my very high reading level I would have figured that out sooner

Ahsoka: I mean, Yoda's made it that long

Barriss: Okay, but he's filled with happiness and good thoughts. I'm filled with bitterness and ibuprofen.

Ahsoka: This is why we have repentance and insurance

Cody, speaking to a spider in the shower: First of all, you're a pervert

Wooley, awake at 1 am: Next time, we should do drugs

Ezra: I thought I was about to have my Snow White moment, but instead, I almost got rabies

Leia: I'm trying to tell a story, and you're BOOGIEING

Hunter: I like where I am.

Phee: Surrounded by girls?

Hunter: No. Dirt.

Ventress: Give that man some cleavage

Riyo: When I say I've got that dog in me, it's Snoopy

Crosshair: If I was a bird, I would be homicidal

Luke: They made him straight. And SAD.

Wrecker: I don't need you to tell me what to do, number man!

Quinlan: Hear me out---

Luminara: You are NOT allowed to say that

Anakin: Arsonists are easy to catch. They leave a bunch of evidence.

Ahsoka: Like fire?

Anakin: Like fire.

Anakin, to Obi-Wan: You like blondes so blond that you can't tell if they have receding hairlines or not

Leia: I have no moral code when it comes to my father.

Hunter: I just love you, okay?

Crosshair: Okay.

Hunter: And I'm gonna slap you in the face the next time I see you.

Phee: They de-'tismed my boy

Fives, singing weakly, laying the wrong way on a mattress, with his legs up against the wall and head and arms hanging off the edge: 🎶H-O-T-T-O-G-O, you can take me hot to go~🎶

Anakin: *shows Ahsoka a clip of the Grinch*

Ahsoka: How did they get live footage of you?

Obi-Wan: What were you saying?

Quinlan: I forgot

Obi-Wan: I know; I was just asking out of courtesy

Luke: A FULL rye chip?! Alms for the poor!

Ventress: Hold on, he's gonna do the slutty cape wave again

Rig Nema: He died of a pulmonary embolism

Kix: Happens to the best of us

Ezra: Should I have known that talking in a spoon in my mouth would make it fall? PROBABLY. But what if this ONE TIME it was DIFFERENT

Hera, abruptly: I need to start listening to more ABBA

Tech: I'm too weird and I need to get weirder.

Obi-Wan: Dead husband. With cancer. At least it's in a nice font.

Satine: Hmm. No.

Obi-Wan: I'm sorry, would it be easier to break the news in Times New Roman?

Phee: I am a very patient woman in terms of patience

Fives: *hands Tup his toast in order to take a picture of Jesse lying next to the trashcan*

Fives: *takes picture*

Fives: *holds out hand* Toast me

Padme: He can make that Perry the Platypus noise- and I think that's hot, by the way-

Echo: I’m going to commit a crime if I have to move these gnomes again

Kanan: My gym skills are akin to a headless chicken attempting hopscotch

[uhhlifeig]

Gryffindor Common Room - Nov. 25 - word count: 794 - @wolfstarmicrofic (TW: Allusions to Walburga's A+ Parenting, SH kinda? oh and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms)

The Gryffindor common room was almost empty. 

Sirius Black sat on the edge of the armchair closest to the hearth, wand spinning nervously in his fingers.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since that night, and every moment since had felt like dragging his feet through mud. He had apologized to James, to Peter, even to McGonagall. 

They’d all forgiven him- eventually, in James’s case, but none of it mattered because Remus hadn’t. 

Remus, who still wouldn’t meet his eyes in class, who barely spoke to him except when absolutely necessary.

Sirius didn’t blame him.

And for why he was sitting in the common room? He was planning to apologize again- and maybe, just maybe, Remus would hate him a little bit less.

But now, all his carefully constructed words felt hollow, like a dead tree stump. He didn’t know if he could fix this. 

He wasn’t sure he even deserved to.

The sound of footsteps on the boys’ staircase pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up sharply, his heart leaping to his throat as Remus appeared, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

The werewolf froze when he saw him. His once-warm amber eyes were sharp now, wary. “What are you doing here?”

Sirius shot to his feet, gripping his wand tightly as a reassurance that this was real. “Remus, I- I was waiting for you. I need to talk to you.”

The other boy’s expression tightened. “You’ve already said enough, don’t you think?”

The words cut deep, but he couldn’t back out now. “I have to make this right.”

“Make it right?” Remus laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You can’t just- wave your wand and undo what you did.”

“I know. I know I messed up. I know I betrayed you.”

“You don’t know,” the taller boy snapped. He took a step closer. “You don’t know what it feels like to have your worst fear used against you. To know someone you trusted- someone you loved- put you in that position.”

Sirius flinched. Every word was like a punch to the gut. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But please, just let me-”

“Let you what?” Remus’s voice rose. “Say you’re sorry again? Beg me to act like nothing happened? It doesn’t work like that!”

The dog animagus’s throat tightened. He couldn’t find the words he’d practiced. Everything in him screamed that words weren’t enough anyway. 

Nothing would ever be enough. 

“Then do something about it,” Sirius said abruptly, his voice shaky. He took a step forward and held out his wand to his ex-lover. “Here.”

Remus blinked. “What?”

The wand was shoved into his hands. “Take it. Just take it.”

“What are-”

The noiret dropped to his knees before he could think about it. He hit the stone floor hard, but he didn’t care. The sting felt right. 

“Do it.”

“Do what?” Remus asked, his voice sharp with confusion.

“Curse me. Hurt me. I don’t care. I deserve it.”

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fire and Sirius’s ragged breathing. The dirty blonde stared at him, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and horror. “What are you talking about?”

“I betrayed you. I hurt you, so you can hurt me back. This is what I deserve.” the older boy’s voice broke on the last word. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind, cold and cruel. 

Repent. Learn. 

Take the punishment you deserve.

It’s what you do for the people you’re a burden to.

“Sirius...”

“You’ll feel better,” he insisted, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ll see.” He bowed his head, his shoulders trembling. 

Nothing happened. 

There was no spell, no harsh words, no punishment. Sirius looked up, confused, only to find Remus standing frozen, the wand hanging limply in his hand. 

“Why did you give me this?” 

“Because you should use it,” the gray-eyed boy said. “I know you want to. You have my permission, okay?”

The werewolf’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “Sirius, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you should. It’ll help.”

“No, it won't.” Remus sounded very sure of himself- so sure, in fact, that Sirius looked up out of shock. 

He watched, shocked, as his ex-boyfriend knelt down in front of him, setting the wand aside. “You’re not your mother, Sirius,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry for saying you were.”

The dam broke. Sirius’s chest heaved as tears spilled down his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

Remus reached out hesitantly, his hands settling on the shorter boy’s shoulders. “We’ll figure it out- but not like this. Never like this.”

The dog animagus sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“And so am I.”

(heavily inspired by "but i want it, it's a crime" by fertilizingdaffodils on ao3! check it out, i love that fic sm)

pt. 1, pt. 2

@estellethewriter

[inhurtandincomfort]

AITA for keeping my boyfriend locked in the basement and selling videos of him on the dark web?

(This is a creative writing prompt. It is entirely a work of fiction.)

Now the title sounds bad, but hear me out. Nearly two years ago my (23M) boyfriend (23M) of two years broke up with me. He (Let's call him K) didn't even bother to tell me in person, I came home to find all his belongings gone and a note on the coffee table. I tried to reach out to him, but he blocked my number and none of his "friends" would talk to me.

Not only did the love of my life leave me, but via a note? That's worse than a text. We'd been together for two years, and he couldn't even be bothered to tell me? I thought we were so close, but I guess I was wrong. I became a complete wreck. I admit, I wasn't in my right mind for awhile afterwards. I felt so betrayed, and I turned to unhealthy ways of coping. I ended up losing my job, my friends, and my dad cut me off financially. My life was ruined, because of K.

But then I made some new friends who introduced me to an online forum. It's like a snuff/red-room type thing, sometimes live, sometimes not. Anyway I got really invested and saw some people donating thousands to the creators, so I thought I'd give it a shot myself. I grew a sizable following, and started making a lot of money.

Fast forward to now. I've told my viewers all about K, my Angel, and how desperate I was to get him back. I know they would all love him, too. He's the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and he's got such mesmerising eyes. I have no doubt he'll be a fan favourite. With the help of my generous donors, I was able to hire some people to help bring him to me.

I was ecstatic to see him again, but he doesn't seem to share my enthusiasm. It's been over a week and he still keeps crying and begging me to let him go, even though he knows it irritates me. I keep telling him I'm not going to kill him, but he doesn't believe me. He thinks I'm just hurting him for the sake of it, but that's not true. I am angry with him yes - I'm still hurt by what he did to me, but I am willing to forgive. All I want is for us to be together again, form an even stronger bond, a genuine one this time. I don't want him to ever leave me again. For us to move forward, he needs to repent. I'm handing him an opportunity to do that.

AITA?

Edit: I give him food and water, what else could he need? He will earn a nicer room and more freedom when he earns back my trust. I was the breadwinner when we lived together before, I paid for EVERYTHING, he just mooched. This time if he wants nice things, he has to work for it. He had an easy life, and he threw it away. I'm just teaching him a valuable life lesson.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

In light of Charlie and Morfydd’s recent interviews, I start to get the feeling “Rings of Power” might actually go the “Reylo route” for Season 3, as in Kylo Ren/Ben and Sauron/Mairon, if “blood binding theory” proves correct.

Season 2 was about revealing Galadriel’s true feelings for Halbrand/Sauron to the audience.

Miv confirmed this is how Galadriel sees Halbrand: we, the audience, saw “Scruffy Dirty Hot Halbrand”, Galadriel saw “Prince Charming Botticelli Halbrand”. It doesn’t get more romantic-coded than this.

Antis can hate it all they want, can chose to ignore diretor and executive producer Charlotte Brändström confirmation that Galadriel is very much in love with Halbrand, how Amazon marketed Halbrand as “Galadriel’s love interest” for Emmy Magazine, or how Miv speak about Galadriel and Halbrand relationship in such romantic terms. Being in denial doesn’t erase any of this.

Maybe Season 3 will be about revealing Sauron’s feelings for Galadriel?

Anyway, back to the “Reylo route”: a running theme in these interviews is the difference between Halbrand’s warmth, and Annatar coldness and how Galadriel was repulsed by it.

In Season 2, Galadriel spent the entire season believing she was deceived by Sauron, and their connection in Season 1 was a lie and a deception from his part. This was confirmed in 2x08:

Only it wasn’t, it was real from his part too.

Galadriel has yet to deal with the fact that Halbrand was, in fact, “repentant Mairon”, aka Mairon seeking redemption from his past crimes under Morgoth, like Tolkien talks about in “The Silmarillion” and on his letters, in “Rings of Power” adapted in a different way.

This might happen in Season 3. Especially when we take into consideration the Gollum inspiration in Sauron’s character in the show, and the “I have many names” plot. Maybe, like Gollum, Sauron also forgot his real name? This plot coming into play/resolution with Galadriel would also make sense with the Frodo parallel the showrunners confirmed they are doing in “Rings of Power” with these two characters.

Sauron‘s character breaking point will be Season 3, too: this is when he’ll abandoned his good intentions in rebuilding and healing Middle-earth and start to embrace his plot as “Morgoth representative” in Númenor. The show needs to give him a plot to turn away from the light for good and end his “repentance era”. Fellow fans have said they would like this to be connected with Galadriel, and I think it will.

I have to say: I’m not a fan of any of this, by the way. I have nothing against Reylo as a ship, but I think Sauron x Galadriel had potential to go a different way. And I might be wrong here, but I get the feeling this is the route “Rings of Power” will take with these two characters.

The impression I have is that the difference between Halbrand/Mairon and Annatar/Sauron might continue in the show, when Galadriel is concerned. “Haladriel” and not “Saurondriel”.

After all, it’s the safest way to deal with Sauron and Galadriel’s connection and the romantic subtext: it’s Mairon the Admirable (“Halbrand”) she wants/fell in love with, not Sauron the Abhorred. By going with this route, the show wouldn’t “taint” Galadriel goodness nor her heroine journey by having her being in love with the villain and the future second incarnation of evil. This is pretty much the “Reylo route”: Rey wanted Ben, not Kylo Ren = Galadriel wants Mairon, not Sauron.

But unlike Kylo Ren, Sauron is not in a redemption journey, and so Mairon/Halbrand will not return, nor Galadriel will accept “Sauron”. Which might be the breaking point he needs to step away from the light for good. And, again, this would make sense with the Morgoth/Silmaril parallel, too: “They say that Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful that after he'd stolen them, for weeks, he could do nothing but stare into their depths. It was only after one of his tears fell upon the jewels and he was faced with the evil of his own reflection that the reverie was finally broken. From that moment, he... he looked upon their light no more.” (Celebrimbor to Elrond, 1x02).

This would mean Season 3 would be peak Haladriel but everything would fall apart after that. Galadriel realizes Halbrand was repentant Mairon, might try to bring him back, and will fail. Mairon embraces his Sauron persona. Depending how this goes, Galadriel might truly close the door in Season 3 or early Season 4.

One question is: does Amazon have the rights to “Mairon”? Unclear, because this is from one of Tolkien’s notes in a linguistic journal from the 1950s (Parma Eldalamberon XVII). But the “I have many names” Gollum inspired plot might indicate the show will eventually use it. Or they’ll stick with Halbrand and be done with it.

As for Teleporno, I still maintain he won’t return in Season 3. The last time I said this there was a witch hunt on my blog, but I really don’t care. Your outrage changes nothing. He wasn’t even mentioned in Season 2. His return either has to be prepared by the narrative or they’ll use the time jump between Season 4 and Season 5 (Sauron needs time to rebuild his physical form after the Fall of Númenor), with him already being there at the start of the season.

Amazon will want to “milk” Haladriel as long as they can; this is a business, after all. Season 4 will be the last time we’ll see Charlie’s face in the show, too. In Season 5, Sauron no longer will have a physical form, so they’ll either CGI Charlie and/or he’ll be in armour at all time.