#because that was supposedly bad luck

[erdariel]

If you want to take this into the next level? Have different people (or different communities/groups of people), have conflicting superstitions with each other! like seriously. Have one group saying that, if we keep on OP's example of vehicle that sometimes explodes and how to avoid that, have one group saying that you should, say, start the vehicle so that the front of it is pointing downwind, to avoid it exploding. And another group saying that front-pointing-downwind is specifically the way you shouldn't start it or then it will explode, like they say that have the front pointing in literally any other direction but not downwind, downwind is bad luck. Or, like, not necessarily specifically that, but seriously, when you look at folklore and old superstitions, you sometimes really do run into cases where two communities have superstitions that say basically the exact opposite thing with each other. (Like. The amount of rowan berries as an omen of the coming winter? Some people will say that if there's a lot of berries, there'll be a lot of snow. Some say that if there's a lot of berries, there's not going to be much snow at all. Some people will say that if there's a lot of berries, it means there'll be a war in the winter. Now which one is it? I don't know, take your pick)

If you're worldbuilding and someone gives you criticism on something, remember that most of the shit that humans do isn't perfectly logical, just mostly functional. If someone points at a vehicle you've designed and says "it may be super fast, but this part would catch on fire immediately if a single particle of dust floated close enough, exploding the whole vehicle", that doesn't mean you scrap the vehicle, it means that it's common knowledge that they burst into fire sometines. But not "randomly", humans don't do well with exploding randomly.

Dying in unexpected and unpredictable ways in high risk high reward situations will always have some superstition in them, make it personal. Rituals that people do in hopes of avoiding that 1-in-10 chance they'll explode while starting the ship. Not wearing clothes of a certain colour because the last guy who exploded had a red scarf. Not eating meat the day before because someone ate a ham sandwich. One pilot who has done countless of successful flights who is convinced that the engine only combusts upon starting if you're thinking about heterosexual thoughts.

[thisisthethanksiget]

NOT wish-related (i swear im perpetually in a state of thinking about how bad it is + how it could be rewritten, i WILL write on here when im motivated skfjjd), but i keep considering writing bruno...if only because the poor boy has severe o.cd & they kinda brushed it off as him being "quirky"

[fangirl-dot-com]

🪡The Obvious String

*part of the reverse trope series*

Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?

*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 

Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 

Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 

So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 

And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)

His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 

“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 

Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 

Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 

The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 

Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 

Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 

The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 

“We?” 

Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 

When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 

His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 

Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 

Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 

The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 

“And why are the two of you here?” 

Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 

“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 

“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”

Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 

“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 

Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 

“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 

“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”

A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 

Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 

The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 

The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 

All he got was a glare back. 

“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 

Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 

“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 

It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 

“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 

“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 

The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 

Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 

The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 

“But George.” 

Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 

“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 

The group of four winced at the memory. 

Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 

Lewis looked a bit pale. 

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 

Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 

Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  

Lando ran a hand down his face. 

“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 

George cocked his head. 

“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 

Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 

George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 

Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 

A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 

When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”

Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 

Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 

“Yes! Do you?” 

The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 

“No.” 

The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 

“Why would you do that!” 

Now Lewis was the one whining. 

“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 

The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 

“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 

“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 

All eyes landed on Oscar. 

The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 

Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  

An audible gulp was heard. 

Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”

Everyone looked a little lost. 

“Aha!” 

The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 

“What!” 

He held his phone up with a contact showing. 

“We call Seb.” 

“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 

For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 

“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 

A sigh was heard through the speaker. 

“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 

Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 

“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 

Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 

Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 

Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 

“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 

Their silence had answered for them. 

Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 

“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 

“Hey!” 

It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 

“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 

“What!” Pierre yelled. 

“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 

“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 

“Ask them what?” 

The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 

“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 

Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 

He took a sip of his Red Bull. 

Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 

“Hey!” 

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 

“Thank you Charles.” 

The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 

“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 

The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 

Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 

“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 

The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 

Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 

“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 

“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 

Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 

“Thank you schatje.” 

This time, a whine came from you. 

“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 

Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 

“WHAT?” 

You turned back to the group. 

“Are you all fine?” 

Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 

The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 

Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”

Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 

Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 

It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 

A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 

“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 

The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 

“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 

Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”

A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 

“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 

Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 

The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 

“You won’t tell anyone right?” 

Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 

Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 

Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 

Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 

Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 

Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 

“Then . . . who knows?” 

Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 

“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 

You pulled out his fingers and counted.  

“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 

Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 

Max smirked. 

“Oh, and Seb.” 

There was silence amongst the group. 

“Oh he is so dead.” 

“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 

“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 

“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 

“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 

“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 

“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 

You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 

You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 

Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 

“Nah.” 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[dandelionjack]

We Invest Things With Significance, or: Why Sutekh Isn’t Sutekh, But Death Itself. alternative title: Fear Is the Mind Killer.

the Doctor Who Series 14/1 thesis statement

i don’t think that sutekh has literally been attached to the TARDIS since Pyramids of Mars. i think that the salt at the edge of the universe — the grievous mistake that caused all myths to become a reality — was what made him appear. and he’s not the same character as sutekh the osiran, a powerful alien that delusionally believed himself to be a god. he *is* a god. nuwho-Sutekh is Death Incarnate.

ergo, this version of Sutekh is the literal psychic manifestation of the Doctor’s deep-seated, guilt-motivated fear of the idea that his arrival brings death wherever he treads. this death-anxiety was turned into a physical presence, haunting the TARDIS all through the Doctor’s timestream, because of the salt. that’s the reason why the Doctor didn’t spot any Susan Twists before Wild Blue Yonder…

there are two timelines in Doctor Who — relative time and universal time. universal time is the history of the universe. relative time is how the Doctor experiences it. in universal time, Sutekh has supposedly been hitchhiking through the vortex for millenia. in relative time, he has only been doing so since Fourteen accidentally invited myths back into the world.

the Doctor was insecure and afraid and believed the above quote (from the very first episode!! spoken by the very first named character in nuwho to die on screen, no less!) to be true. but until WBY it had only been true on a symbolic, metaphorical level. myths, legends, concepts and stories becoming real after the salt caused the Doctor’s anxiety about being a death-bringer to take the shape of a black dog — a universally recognised symbol of death — wearing the name and voice of his most formidable enemy, Sutekh.

in a way, this plotline mirrors The Woman from 73 Yards similarly being a manifestation of Ruby’s worst fear — that of being abandoned by everyone she loves for something intrinsic and incorrigible inside her that she cannot change. Ruby fears being left completely alone, so “The Woman” causes everyone in her life to leave her. the Doctor fears that his coming always heralds mass destruction (“maybe i’m the bad luck”), so “Sutekh” makes sure that the TARDIS literally becomes an altar of death.

ever since Wild Blue Yonder, stories in doctor who have become sources of immense power. the worst, most potent stories we tell ourselves are the lies that our sick brains whisper to us — secret anxieties that we’re not good enough, that all our loved ones will inevitably leave, that we carry nothing but bad luck in our wake. what better clay to mould a monster from than the protagonists’ own neuroses?

and if anybody’s still in doubt, here’s the plain text, all laid out below:

we invest things with significance. that’s what the salt at the edge of the universe really meant. that’s what almost every episode this series has been about, thematically — the imaginary kastarions, the cosplaying chuldur, the bogeyman written into life because kids need a scary story. myths become real to us because we believe in them, love and death and monsters too.

[novemberhush]

This counts as some dick going out of his way to make life harder for people.

something charmingly twentieth century about this

[bella-goths-wife]

Yandere Vs reaction to pet reader accidentally killing someone out of anger

Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of drug use, SA mentions, Valentino, death, description of wounds, forced affection, forced father-daughter relationship, workplace bullying, grooming mentioned, guilt

You were used to your coworkers being assholes to you

You were a fellow working soul yet you were treated nicer and given many more privileges then them, of course they weren’t going to like you

Everyone referred to you as a lost puppy or as a pet

They didn’t even know your name, but know one really knew your name in fairness

They sneered when they saw you enter a room, and if the Vs weren’t accompanying you then they would get physical by tripping you or shoving you around

Angel dust does his best to defend you when he sees this happen, but angel rarely has time to think nevermind look after you

But the rumours were the parts that upset you the most, to here small parts of your life become exaggerated and spread around

They’d also dump their workload on you so you had to do even more stuff while also balancing three very obsessed bosses

But something pushed you over the edge today, something that angered you so much that your power spun out of control

You’d had a certain guy around the tower spread vicious rumours about you lately and you could always hear the whispers following you because of them

“I heard she killed her friends”

“I heard she was a whore who overdosed with her junkie boyfriend”

“I heard that she only gets good treatment because she’s fucking one of the bosses, or all of them by the looks of her”

Many misinformation or misunderstandings spread around by this man would end up being whispered near you

So one day when you were in voxs office alone and this guy walked in, you knew something bad was going to happen

He made a few smart ass comments about your rumoured past but you just rolled your eyes and ignored him

But he pushed it to far when he uttered the words “they really groomed you into their perfect little pet huh?”

You shot him a glare as you questioned what he meant by that

He then went on a long rant about how it wasn’t fair that you got better treatment all because you were willing to throw away your dignity for their enjoyment

With every word he uttered about the luck you supposedly had caused rage to spark in your chest

The cherry on top was when he said “I wonder what your mother would think if she found out what a fucking whore you are and how she must have fucked you up real bad for you to have this little self respect”

One minute he’s standing over you and smirking at you, the next he’s crumpled on the floor covering his ears and screaming in agony

You couldn’t stop using your ability to create loud and excruciating noises directly in his ears, it’s like you’d been completely taken over by the anger you felt

You saw blood pouring out of his ears like a fountain and you couldn’t help but smile and increasing the volume, until he stopped moving except for a few twitches and you saw what looked like brain matter leak from his ears

You had killed him

You just stood in shock and stared at his body while processing this information that you’d killed a man in cold blood

And the Vs saw it all happen from the open door

Vox:

Vox almost felt like a proud dad as he watched you kill someone purposefully for the first time

He came up and patted you on the shoulder with a wide smile, as if you’d just passed some sort of test

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rambled on about how you could improve and what you did well, almost like a performance review for a singers night show

What had been a world changing and traumatic experience for you, was purely just entertainment for him

He couldn’t understand your shell shocked expression, you had killed this man while smiling so why were you overreacting so much

But he still walked you back to your room and cleaned the blood off of your body and sitting you on your bed

He went on a long rant about how you shouldn’t feel bad about your murder, he was provoking you and it was clearly all his fault

He said that he understood why you did what you did, and that he was proud of you for your decision

“I started out like you, but you’ll improve over time and get used to it” he had said with a wide grin “soon enough you’ll be just like me”

And the fact that you were seen as in any way comparable to Vox only sent a chill down your spine and doubled your guilt

After that day, you noticed people were much nicer to you and Vox only gave you a ‘told you so’ look

But since becoming aware of the harassment you were subjected to, he did give voxtech employees a strict warning and he broke a few bones to get his point across

He couldn’t have something like a little murder bring his favourite girl down, even if it did prepare you to become his heir one day

Velvette:

Velvette doesn’t really understand the big deal

Your in hell, you fraternise with murderers and worse on a daily basis

You live in a tower filled with the worst of the worst kind of criminals

So why are you overreacting so much over a little murder that could easily be sorted out

She does scold you slightly on doing your own dirty work and doing it on the expensive carpeting

She explained that if you really want someone dead then you should just tell one of them and they’d have their security deal with it

But she did express some pride for you efficient killing and you experiencing your first purposeful murder

She does nothing to comfort you at all, you should be over it already is her thought process

But she does kill more people around you in her own sick away to reassure you that murdering people is okay in her books, she only makes you want to peel your own skin off though because every sight of blood just makes you think about the fact you ended a man’s afterlife

She also makes an example of the man you killed to her employee, harass her pet and her pet will bite back

She makes a few more private examples or your bullies, but she’ll wait until the rumours of the event hits you before she explains

Valentino:

This entire situation is just a joke to this man

His little princesa bites as much as she can bark, and he’s meant to take that seriously?

He does much worse stuff then murder every day and you don’t see him she’ll shocked and crying on the floor do you?

He will actively crack jokes about one of the most traumatic things you’ve ever done in front of you

Every time he does and you get a guilty or shocked expression, he bursts out laughing at the ridiculousness of your reaction

But he would clean up the body for you

He’d either just dump it into the cannibal colonies or he’d just get his workers to get rid of it and clean up the office

But he’d definitely keep a body part of a piece of jewellery from your victims body to taunt you with when he’s bored

He also gave a few extremely rough video sessions to some of the people from him workers that contributed to your harassment

He can’t have his little musical toy become too tired to sing him a soothing tune to calm his ever present temper

Sorry this was so small, work exhausted me today :(

Tag list so far:

@buttercupfangirl @repostingmyfavs @lilyalone @the-faceless-bride

[gamblersdoll]

nsfw, cnc mention, rough sex, spit, spanking, degrading, deku using blackwhip, manipulation. lmk if i didnt tag it. attempted kidnapping, stalker themes implied.

an: its been edited for more… fantasy.

the city was clear skied at night, civilly looking and dressed by the way. no villains were out, crime was semi dying downing and only left to maybe crimes that occurred twice a month. even then, it wasnt like it was eliminated.

maybe the universe was trying to give you and izuku, the number two pro here, after todoroki, a chance at happiness. maybe a saving grace, it could be. it only started after you and izukus marriage, it was a good thing. the media went crazy about you and izuku marrying , screaming how it wasnt meant to be.

thats the only reason it brought izukus rating down, because of a damn relationship. it wasn’t supposed to be you and izuku, it was just supposed to be ochako and izuku. yet, izuku always assured you that you were his true love.

and maybe that saving grace after the marriage was short lived, since crime spiked back up, immediately too.

and it was one that was very, destructive. which only meant a specific person that unfortunately fell into the hands of crime when he was attempting to be a hero.

dynamight.

izuku often did search for him, attempting to find his childhood best friend who desperately wanted to be a hero. but would always come up empty handed..

this time was different.

“izuku!” you screamed, keeping the door open and just staring at the horrifying box in front of you. he comes stumbling down the stairs, hand on your hip and bug eyed at the box.

someone has it out for you, bad. and they have your address, presumably pretending to be usps. or it was someone who worked at the delivery company, sending you body parts for and as an act of love.

it didnt make sense to you.

“are you going to be okay when im gone, love?” izuku says, tightening up his hero boots and looking to you. you nod, feeling his hand caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “good. i love you.”

“i love you.” you say back, watching him depart from you in a instant. he had to go to the americas for a mission, supposedly. there was a big problem over there and they needed as many heroes as possible.

thats what heroes do, right?

thats what you at least remind yourself, since you were on active leave because of a big mission you did. you were forced to take a break, since your arm and shoulder were damaged. you were only discharged a couple months ago—

“grab the girl!” a rando shouted, a hand over your mouth and a knife to your throat. you were fucked, dropping your phone in a scramble and you damn sure couldnt use your fucking quirk. “what a lucky day! just my damn luck–!”

and you heard him gargle, was he that fucked in his mind he had gone rabid? his hands drop, his heavy weight pushing into you and you.. move away? you look to see what had happened, only to see his head had became scrambled.

you feel a cold sweat, your stomach churning and it feels like you could vomit. sure, youre a pro now— that doesnt mean you cant feel a little sick from the gore of the scene. you look to the wall, reading it.

‘youre welcome.’

someone had saved you? it was that quick? you look around the area, top and bottom. there wasnt a gunman, nor was there any traces. you scramble to find your device, calling izuku.

please, pick the fuck up.

“baby?” he asks, sounding concern.

“i almost got kidnapped—“ you start, but you think that izuku would freak out. but.. hes more calm. “but, the weirdest shit happened, the perp just.. died behind me! his head.. its like halfway gone, and i guess whoever the ‘hero’ of the night is, basically said i was fucken welcomed.”

“youre okay though, right?” izuku asks. no, youre not fucking okay, you just almost got abducted and someone blew someones head off behind you! you grunt a response, “okay, get home safe, okay bunny?”

yeah, right.

yet, something felt.. off about him when he came back. he said he would be back by the twentieth of july, and it was the fucking first of august.

“where have you been?” you ask, worried, scared, nervous, angry, confused all hit you at the same time. it felt like hell, you didn’t want to be that insecure wife that questioned her husband each day.

“something came up, im sorry baby.” he apologized, coming over to hold you and kiss your cheek. “you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

“i..” you try and start, but the words just got stuck into your throat.

“you?” izuku tries to help, but it looks like he didnt want to hear it. feigning confusion and worry on his face, not like you could tell.

you were too in love and worried to even pay attention.

“i.. i forgive you.” you say, shaking those negative feelings and thoughts away from your body. it was good that you did that, you never did well with it.

good, according to plan.

you both went to sleep peacefully that night, you did at least…

until you didnt, you were a light sleeper. and of course, you heard something. something wasnt right, no, it was too hot. izuku mustve changed the temperature in the house.

your feet move , still groggy and looking at the thermostat.

seventy-nine degrees?! did he want both of you to fucking boil!? you curse under your breath, changing it back to the original temperature, at least sixty degrees. yet, something still didnt feel right—

creak!

you think its izuku, so you go back upstairs. that boy was still asleep—

creeakk!

someone or something was in the house, and you shake him. “izuku, somethings in the house.” you silent shout, knowing he wasnt that heavy of a sleeper. was he really that tired to where he wouldnt wake to do a check in the house?

fine, be that fucking way, deku.

you go on your own, and you tiptoe in your own fucking house.. how comical. but there is a lingering smell, it wasnt a familiar smell.

or at least, not yours or izukus.

you check each room, there wasnt anything.. and then back downstairs. maybe you were paranoid—

no, the fuck you werent. or maybe you just see a big ass shadow man sitting in the corner of the living room. you stop in your tracks, you have to be making eye contact with this.. thing.

he clears his throat, tapping his foot, and goes to stand up–

“midori—mff!” you try to shout for him, but a hand comes around your mouth and you can smell it, chloroform.

you wake up finally, groggy and trying to remember what had happened, but you see him, bakugou. you remember his suit, his hair, those mean, red eyes that you had first fallen in love with.

“nothin’ to say?” he starts, pulling his hands out of his gloves and crouching in front of you. “welcome home, beauts.”

“zuku!” you try, but bakugou just laughs.

“he’s probably still asleep, he was always a heavy sleeper.” bakugou started again, “izuku?” he mocks, looking around and back to you. “still asleep.”

“you—“

“yeah yeah, im a villain, this that ‘n the third.” he mumbles, kissing your cheek then getting close to your ear. “but i saved you, didnt i?” he whispers, “youre welcome.”

and it clicks, he was the one that blew the guys’ brains out.

you hear a door open, and a tuff of green hair. izuku walks in, standing in the doorway and dynamight just looks at him. “izuku! please..” you say, knowing he would save you.

“oh, hey kacchan.” he simply says, walking over and dapping him up. it confused the fuck out of you, and he just looks at you like there isnt a fucking villain in front of you. “hi, baby.”

“midoriya, what the fuck are you doing?!” you shout, “do you not see him?” you question, feeling bakugou get behind you and release you.

“oh, i do.” he replies, kissing your cheek and releasing blackwhip to restrain you. “guess we should talk about it.”

talk about what?! that he allowed a villain inside?

you glare at him, and katsuki laughs. “oh, thats a mean ass look. could make me fold in a minute.”

“izuku.” you repeat, staring at him. “did.. you plan this?” you ask, hoping and praying to whatever god there was that you were wrong, like this was a bad dream and you were stuck.

“yeah, ive been wanting to tell you that.” he starts, seeing how your heart drops to your ass. “before you get all worried, its also technically your fault.”

now how in the mother fuck.

“how?” you ask, growing paranoid, angry, scared.

“did you not realize that the usps label was slightly ripped?” he asks, showing the box with the finger and the tongue inside of it. it makes you gag, and katsuki shushes you in consolation. “did you not realize that the perp who wanted to ‘kidnap’ you was our priest from our wedding?”

thinking back on it now.. maybe it was. no, it was our priest.

“but.. why kill the pre—??”

“he knew what was going on, and was trying to save you. as if you needed to be saved.” katsuki interrupted, brushing your hair back.

“and to be honest, all three of us were technically married. it was meant to be.” katsuki adds, showing the marriage license.

the three were.. married? meant to be?

riiipp!

you feel your sleep shorts be ripped off, looking to izuku for some sort of reasoning. he gets closer, kissing your lips and then looking back to katsuki. “be careful with her, you havent fucked her, ever.” he says, tightening blackwhip and smiling. “he’s going to be gentle this time, okay?”

you feel warmth around your slit, moaning out and you hate how you sound, the fact this was even arousing pissed you off.

why was it arousing?

“fuck, shes so sweet..” katsuki groans, licking at your clit and suckling. his heavy cock gets heavier, pulling you close and slipping into your walls.

“zuku!—“

“wrong name, baby.” katsuki rasps, pulling your hips back and thrusting into you. “ha..haaah!” he pants out, tongue lolled out and drooling onto your ass. “oh, ive wanted this, ive wanted thiss!”

“its okay, bunny, see how hes being so sweet with you?” izuku speaks, kissing you cheek. he looks at your crossed eyes, fists balled up and he rubs your knuckles.

this feels wrong, but it doesnt feel so bad.

or was it you being corrupted that manipulated you into thinking that?

it was definitely the corruption of your walls that shot to your mind, your ass burned from the constant slam of his hips into them. “fuck, wanted you since the day i saw you!” he growls, spitting onto your back and wrapping a arm around your neck.

and this fucker izuku just watches.

“going to make you mine, mine!” katsuki says, feeling your corrupt walls squeezes around him in ecstasy, which causes him to break you. he slaps your ass, digging his nails into the tender flesh as he holds onto you for support. “gunna’ cum in you, fuck ive wanted this so bad!”

it makes izuku hard.. really.

“wanted to watch you slut yourself out to deku.. wanted to watch you get cock drunk of’fa me!” he babbles, turns out he was getting pussy drunk off of you. he licks up your back, biting into your shoulder and whispers into you. “do you feel it? do you feel how much of a slut you are? huuhh?”

he whines his hips slow, laughing all mean and slapping your backend again. “oh, god, youre so much sexier in person!” he says, eyes dilating and he licks his canines. “fuck, just like that, going to fuckin cum!—“

he creams inside of you, feeling his seed spilling out of your walls. izuku only chuckles, lifting your head up to see your eyes.

your eyes were low and heavy, you had been in and out of consciousness. “see? we can all be a big happy married couple.”

—

“aand, cut!” the director says, katsuki just laughs and picks you up, blackwhip releasing you.

“you okay, mama?” he asks, squishing your cheeks and looking at your eyes. “shit, grab her water, idiot!” katsuki yells to the backstage, them rushing to the fridge.

“sugar, you okay?” izuku asks, tapping each part of your skin to bring your back down to earth. you nod, both men sighing in relief as katsuki helps you drink the cold water. “we didnt go to hard, did we?”

“mm, mm..” you respond, lazily looking up to them. “did me dirty though, having me in damn near eighty degree house.”

katsuki boisterously laughs, “that was my fault, forgot to turn it down, mama.” he says in a kiss.

[just-zy]

Cursed Bloodsucker

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: A day of the week, you'd think curses and hexes was all on the same day, but surely it wasn't that bad.. You had a girlfriend, didn't you?

A/N: I feel good tonight, and I feel like I didn't do pretty shitty here..

Warnings!: ermmm....ooc wednesday probably..

Masterlist

Being a vampire had its perks, but everything seemed to be..a downside for a certain individual today, specifically, friday. One might say, 'Oh, but how bad can it be?', well...

"O–Ow, Jesus Christ, easy on the stitches Wednesday.."

"If you'd just listen to what I had told you, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

Waking up early wasn't a problem for the vampire, so instead of listening to Wednesday, she decided to sleep in, and look where that got the bloodsucker. Running off to her second period while trying to neat out her wrinkled vest. She couldn't see well really, having her satchel slinging on her shoulder for dear life, her sunglasses almost falling off before she got inside the classroom, what a sight to see.

Disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, slipping satchel, she thought it couldn't get worse.

She might've jinxed that one, that for a moment she thought she was cursed for living on specific days.

Walking was supposedly calming for the vampire, but today just seemed to be a day you wanted to get over with.

"Okay, what's for lunch, ooh– gimme!"

"Y– Y/N! Stop—!"

She was determined to have a bite of whatever Enid was having for lunch, unknowingly, the utensil Enid decided to use for todays lunch was silvered utensils. Why did that school have silvered utensils anyway? Well, labels. They have labels.

She reacted instantly to the object, dropping the spoon, immediately. "Fucks sake! Wha–"

"That's silver!"

If only she didn't let her intrusive thoughts win for once, maybe then she'd live another day.

Another problem, a full moon was happening tonight, what a coincidence!

She felt too worn out to even go out and feed, but she just had to, didn't she.

That same night, she did quite have an interaction with a shifting wolf, then gets mauled. What are the chances, huh? Thankfully, Wednesday was there to save the day! Or night.

"I feel exhausted, thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow..I don't always have the best luck on friday's I swear, I'm cursed."

"Perhaps it's because you think you are."

Wednesday tidies the kit and stitches on the vampires bed, making her way in the bathroom and began cleansing her hands filled with the blood of her girlfriend.

"No– I really do have bad lucks on fridays.. Remember that one time I had an essay due? And I accidentally poured coffee, everywhere. Then there was that time when I slipped on the stairs and nipped my fucking tooth, and had my lip busted. But, I guess– they weren't as bad.. Because I had a lovely, gorgeous girlfriend to help me recover from all of that.."

The raven sat next to the vampire, scrutinizing her lover. She had a light smirk plastered on her lips, she leaned forward, your lips mere inches away from touching. You waited, you always did. You closed your eyes, awaiting her plump crimson lips making contact with yours, but that didn't happen. Tonight was different, she felt like tormenting you. She had only pecked your cheek.

What. The. Fuck.

Bothered, you gazed at her as she began inspecting the stitches on your arm. "Stitches look horrendous on you, Cara Mia."

"You're just pure evil, like the devil, did you know that?" You grumbled, unhappy that she still hasn't given you the one thing that you were waiting for all day, considering she was out with Eugene the whole day.

"Some consider me as Lucifer's daughter, but that isn't new, no."

Her eyes looked rather, luminous under the moons emitting light, you were ready to do everything she'd order you to, even let her redo the perfect stitches she's done just so she could have all her attention back at you, while she enjoys at what she does best. Being your girlfriend.

You didn't dare disrespect her, or even trespass her boundaries and limitations. Never in your life would anything hurtful leave that mouth of yours, you love her too much to do so.

Your gaze didn't leave her still figure, if anything it made you more focused on her, and only her. Your fingertips grazing on her pale skin, feeling her burgundy lips on your finger, to your desperate bloodied lips.

Fridays in the morning were a no, but the night time was an exception.

______+______

A/N: Wednesday has my heart, but she's soo difficult to write for sometimes 💔 this is a makeup for the recent imagine 😌

[thefrogman]

Froggie's Mailbox Adventures

I have been wanting to tell this story for a while now. This all happened right before my birthday and then I got sick for 4 weeks and didn't have the energy to talk about it.

So let us take a trip into the recent past to hear a tale of woe and triumph with a bunch of extra woe interspersed throughout.

It all began on the 4th of July.

Some neighborhood rascals ruined my old mailbox with a baseball bat.

They also destroyed my brand new mailbox sensor that lets me know when there is mail so I don't have to make multiple trips to check.

(Ring replaced it for free, so that was nice.)

Originally, I was going to hire someone to replace the mailbox. But I was not having much luck finding someone who could do that specific task. (I've been having trouble finding help in general due to living in a supposedly "dangerous" area.)

So I decided to try and install the mailbox myself. And I had no idea how much of an adventure that was going to be...

My first step was tearing off the old one to see how it was mounted.

I got some paper and a sharpie and noted where the holes were. And, of course, they didn't line up with the new mailbox.

Which is a really nice mailbox. I mean, it is solid. Check this bad boy out and please don't notice the dirty clothes lying on the floor in the background.

It is always so tempting to save a few bucks and get the cheaper thing, but I am so glad I splurged on this. It looks nice. It functions well. It has magnets. And I don't think it can be baseball-batted without some instant karmic retribution from Newton's third law.

My next step was to get a new mounting plate. And even though I try not to go to Home Depot because it is run by a bunch of conservative religious bigots... I went to Home Depot.

I was a little nervous about leaving the house at the time because I was still struggling with my heart issue (which I think is mostly resolved now). I was trying to be very careful about how much I exerted myself. I really didn't want to have an episode while I was out and about.

After searching for a while I discovered they had a mounting plate and a pressure-treated mounting board. I could do wood or metal. And they were located on completely opposite ends of the store because of course they were.

I had both items in my hand and I did that thing where you just keep staring at something hoping a useful thought will pop into your brain. I had no clue which one was better for my needs. There is surprisingly little information regarding mailbox installation on the internet. YouTube really let me down on this one. I was just kinda winging it and solving problems as I went along.

I stared for for a little while longer and no useful thoughts happened.

I was tired of staring so I just said, "Fuck it" and made an executive decision.

Then I almost passed out in Home Depot.

I spent too much time walking around that gigantic monstrosity of a store and my heart started beating super fast and my legs felt like jello and I started getting quite dizzy.

I was in rough shape.

So... I had a little lie-down next to a wall of tape measures.

I just stared up at them thinking about all of the things I could measure.

I could measure a dog.

Or a horsie.

Or a horsie the size of a dog.

Then I thought, "Ooh, that one has lasers! I NEED IT."

My brain was not functioning at 100% in that moment.

After about 10 minutes of thinking about lasers and things I could measure with lasers, my body seemed to reboot and I was able to get up. Thankfully no one saw me and thought there was a dead body in the aisle or something. But that was still embarrassing all the same.

Once my heart slowed down I was able to pay and make it out to the car. I headed home and saw one of the most unusual sunsets of my life. The sun was dim and a shade of orange I have never seen in nature. It was like, cheeto orange. Not only that, it was a perfect circle with a super crisp outline. It didn't look real.

I tried to get a picture of it but when I looked at the picture later, the camera didn't capture anything like what I saw.

This is the best approximation I can manage. But it still doesn't do it justice.

I was hoping I could get home in time to grab my real camera and capture this strange setting sun, but it dipped below the horizon just as I pulled into my driveway.

I then started problem solving how to get the new mailbox in place with the items I purchased. And I was on a deadline because I have no clue what happens when the mailperson arrives and they don't have a mailbox to put the mail in. Do they just throw it on the ground? Do they get to keep the mail? Are they going to use all of my grocery coupons?

And for some reason, my post office does not keep a consistent delivery schedule. I've been trying to figure out a pattern for weeks and they just seem to come "whenever" and that is about as close as I can pin it down. Which is why I got the mailbox sensor.

Due to my near fainting episode in Home Depot, I was in no shape to be handy, so I was trying to think of a temporary solution to put the new mailbox on without properly mounting it. At first I was going to just wrap it in packing tape a bunch of times. But then I noticed I had a bunch of string. And I decided that was a more interesting solution... for reasons? My brain was still not doing well. But when I tried to tie the new mailbox to the post with the string it failed miserably. And I realized the packing tape wouldn't work either. The mailbox did not sit flat on the post and it wiggled. However, because I tried the dumb string method, I discovered this wiggle issue and it actually helped me figure out how to mount it.

I gave up for the night and decided to hope I could install the box in the morning before "whenever" happened. The next morning I started drawing dots on boards and comparing my old holes to my new holes and measuring clearances. (Measuring without lasers like a chump.) I needed to elevate the mailbox in order to mount it and that's when I thought to combine the board and the plate. I could screw the board into the old holes and then create new holes in the board for the plate to attach. And the plate lined up with the holes in the bottom of the new mailbox.

EASY!

It was a pretty big brain moment for me and I felt like I just solved quantum physics or something.

You're probably pretty confused because you are not as smart as I am.

Here is a diagram to help.

The board mounts to the post arm. The plate screws into the board. The mailbox screws into the plate.

Or just use string.

Also, how fortunate was it that I stared for all that time and got frustrated and just bought both things?

My next problem was that my drill wouldn't fit inside the mailbox and I couldn't screw the screws in place. So I drilled pilot holes in the board so I could manually screw in the screws with a ratcheting right angle screwdriver.

And the only reason I had one of those is because I use it as a fidget toy. (I like the clicky sounds.)

Another lucky happenstance!

I tried to prepare as much as I could in my garage before dragging all of my tools to the end of my lengthy driveway. I brought along my dad's old rolling walker so I'd have something to transport everything.

But also so I'd have something to sit on while I was installing the new box. Then I wouldn't have another heart episode and need another lie-down.

Seriously, how big is my brain?

I am like the smartest person alive.

So I got to the end of the driveway with all of my tools and my board and my plate and my templates and I realized something was missing.

The new mailbox.

I am like the dumbest person alive.

After a quick back-and-forth to retrieve the mailbox, I got started on my master mounting plan.

I screwed the board onto the post arm.

Then I screwed the plate into the board.

Then I lined up the new mailbox onto the plate.

But as I was doing this, I was kinda sticking out into the street a little bit. And usually that isn't a big deal. Cars can see me from very far away and they were just steering around me. But then two cars came from opposite directions at the same time and I was in a precarious position where I could not move. One car steered wide to avoid me, and for some reason, the other car decided not to slow down but to drive off the edge of the street.

And as they pulled this maneuver I heard a loud thump, followed by a loud pop, and then the sound of hissing getting farther and farther away.

Like a snake version of the Doppler effect.

They drove directly into this and popped their tire.

On the one hand, I felt a little responsible and guilty. On the other, it is not my responsibility to fix the street. And on a third hand, that was silly driving behavior and perhaps they will see this as a learning moment.

After processing what just happened I got back to the task at hand. To my delight and surprise, all of my planning and problem-solving was working. Everything fit together perfectly. The right angle ratcheting screwdriver was screwing in the screws. And after I tightened the final one...

I had successfully installed a new mailbox, on my own, without any jankiness or tape or string.

Like, I did this legit proper.

Tons of pure endorphins rushed into wherever endorphins go. (Again, I am very smart.) That feeling of accomplishment was pure ecstasy. I had no idea how to do this and in less than 24 hours I was basically an expert mailbox installer. I took some shots of my work on my phone so I could brag to Katrina, packed up all of my tools, and began to walk back to the house.

And... my heart started beating fast again.

And... I needed to have another little lie-down in the grass next to my driveway.

I stared up at the sky and was frustrated and proud simultaneously. A weird mixture of emotions. At the time I didn't know if my heart could be fixed. But thankfully I had my sense of accomplishment to temper my heart sadness.

And then I thought, "I should get a new address sign."

Epilogue time!

I got on Amazon and started looking up new signs. And I found one that was solar powered and lit up at night. So clearly I needed to have that one. My midnight food delivery people will never struggle to find my house again!

And it actually looked pretty neat.

(My address is not actually four 0s, but you are free to try sending me something.)

The sign was very easy to read... if you were super duper close.

But if you were farther away...

You couldn't actually distinguish the numbers. And it kinda looked weird next to the mailbox. And headlights made the numbers even harder to see. Which was the opposite of what I was going for.

So I opted to get a more traditional sign.

(Please send items to the realm of nothingness. I am in the void.)

But this bugged me because the sign was a different size than the old sign and the connection points didn't line up perfectly.

I HAD A CATAWAMPUS CHAIN!

WHICH IS THE MOST UNACCEPTABLE KIND OF WAMPUS!

It was at this point that Katrina started making fun of my perfectionism.

But this wasn't perfectionism for perfection's sake.

My Dad was having trouble fixing things around the house. And some other kids knocked over the previous, previous mailbox. And he found the strength to go to the store, get a new one, and install it all by himself. He was at the end of the driveway, attached to his portable oxygen canisters, and fixing one last thing for this house.

And I guess I just wanted to get it back to perfect. Because he never did any handyman task half-assed. He was a full-ass handyman. Always.

So... I fixed the sign.

Perfectly balanced.

Again, feel free to send me stuff to 0000 Road.

I'm sure it will get here... "whenever."

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Amane runs into the last person she thought she'd meet at the marketplace: Giyuu and his...fiancee...? A/N: Yes this is shorter and honestly I am not proud of the dialogue at the end but I hope dgbthnyuhntbgrbvf is happy with the request! I love the idea of Kagaya viewing all of this as some Taisho era K-Drama WARNINGS: None SUNNY'S TAGLIST: (comment if you wanna be added or removed) @abadonkori @therabbitthatpostthings @ezekieleen @giyuusluht @bisforbuse @dgbthnyuhntbgrbvf MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Vegetables? Yes. Fruits? Yes. Ramen? Yes.

These were just a few things Amane had expected to and had seen at the bustling market when she went shopping for tonight’s dinner ingredients with Hinaki and Nichika, alongside shouting salespeople, excitable kids, jewellery vendors, moseying stray cats and strolling couples with intertwined hands that evening, when the dipping sun cast a mellow golden glow over the stalls and heads.

The Water Pillar supposedly on a few days leave as part of a strolling couple with intertwined hands was not what she had expected to see.

The surprise of it all made her stop in her tracks, lingering in front of a vegetable seller. As far as Amane had known Tomioka had returned to Mount Sagiri to see his old sensei for unknown reasons, but she had put it down to homesickness or the like. To think that she would catch him here, of all places, hand in hand with a seemingly familiar young woman, leading her throughout the crowded marketplace and carrying bags full of shopping! Curious.

Amane's eyes trailed after the two, watching as Tomioka’s partner guided him through the crowds and stopped at stalls to make her selection, more often than not briefly bickering with Tomioka's insistence on paying for everything. They appeared to be buying similar things with her, so Amane surmised they must be planning to have dinner together. As far as she was aware Tomioka had no other family save for his late older sister, and anyhow the two didn't share any resemblance…Tomioka rarely socialized with the other Pillars as well, so who could he possibly be out with?

Her daughters continued to pick out the freshest ones, but it wasn't long before they noticed Amane continuously staring off at someone in the crowd with a stunned look in her eyes. Curious indeed; they quickly handed over the money before trying to look for the object of their mother's interest as well. They couldn't stand there forever though, so the two quickly tugged at Amane’s sleeve and left before they could hold up the line, urging her to carry on with their purchases.

“Wait a minute now. I think one of our Pillars is here as well.”

***

“Come on, Giyuu, walk faster! There's still so much left to buy, and the Estate isn't going to stock up on food by itself! Don't tell me you're tired after just visiting my relatives.” You tug at his hand with a playfulness to match the tease in your tone. The only bag he had allowed you to carry (”If I can do it, I'll do it.”) swung precariously on your arm, but luck always favoured you and nothing dropped out. Maybe some of your luck had rubbed off on him too, because how else could he have scored such a beauty?

He takes a while to reply, but that's only because he's too busy staring at you under the yellow dusk lights. You may not be the most striking figure in the crowd, but Giyuu swears that even if his eyesight were to blur he'd recognise your hair and your kimono anywhere. “The Kakushi will stock up the moment they find out we're back; I already told you we didn't have to go shopping. And to be fair, your sister sulking was more than I could handle.”

“Sulking? Was she?” Your mouth fell open and you glanced back in surprise. “Oh, come on, anyone would have an attitude if they found out their sibling was getting married. She got over it anyway!”

You're still leading him towards a particular stall as you ramble on - Giyuu follows, flashing back to said sister's former judmental behaviour towards him. “Is it so bad to come shopping with me? I wanna spend as much time as possible with you before we have to get back to missions.”

“…not arguing with that logic.” Giyuu squeezes past an old lady and her grandchildren to stand next to you. He takes a good look at the stall's colourful goods, surprised. “When you said you wanted to buy charms, I thought you meant the bracelet kind and not the superstitious kind…?”

“Charms as in good luck ones.” You eagerly examine the omamori laid out immaculately, oohing and aahing over the intricate designs and wishes, occasionally dangling one by its string for a closer look. “Because, y’know, we're getting married and all and…ugh, I sound so silly right now, but…”

Again, Giyuu’s caught himself focusing more on you than the subject being discussed, but who could fault him, when your eyes lit up ever so prettily whenever you found a charm you liked? Forget the sun - your eyes don't ever set. “I've seen you cry over a kitten on the street. Go on.”

Oops, didn't quite come out as comforting as he'd meant it to be…he pretended to fiddle with one of the floral patterned omamori under your withering glare.

“We're just still going on missions before the big day, right? So I thought I'd get a pair for you and me to…well, so neither of us miss it.” You shrug, but Giyuu can still see the dread hidden yet written in your face. “Silly, isn't it? I mean, we battle demons nearly every day and I'm hoping some simple omamori will ward it off.”

If Giyuu was a normal person in love he'd say no, it was not silly, it was very cute of you and of course he felt the same. Giyuu was Giyuu however and therefore thought it was very silly indeed, because an omamori a day can't keep the demons away but nevertheless it was very cute and endearing of you.

“I don't think even Kibutsuji himself could stop me from marrying you.”

“Aw, thanks, Yuu-kun.” You blow him a kiss that leaves him flustered and hold up two omamori. “Look! This one's wave themed, so if you take this one and I take that one it'll match with our Breathing Techniques!”

He better be marrying you soon or Giyuu would be going after the Demon King himself.

You finished up your bargaining with the stall owner and dragged off your fiance off on your merry way to get the last thing on your shopping list before heading home: salmon, because the three things Giyuu could not survive without was water, salmon daikon and you. He happily lets you, glad to have someone take his hand and lead - he'd be emotionally and literally lost without you. You're going on about some new train of thought regarding tomorrow's mission, when he stiffens, stops short and makes you do the same.

“Tomioka-san, how are you? I did not think I'd find you here tonight.”

“…”

“Eh-! Good evening, Ubuyashiki-san! We did not think we'd see you here either.” With a nudge to shake him out of his stunned stupor Giyuu hastily bowed as well.

Amane's face quickly shows recognition, calling out your name in suprise. Like her husband she knew all the Corps members by face, yet you were the last person she'd have guessed to be with the stoic Water Pillar. “What are you two doing anyways? I didn't realize you two were friends.”

“No, she's…my…fiancée…”

Giyuu had rarely seen Amane have anything expressive on her face but “noticeably startled” was the only way to describe it. Even her children were looking blankly uncomprehending. “Why, Tomioka-san, congratulations! Is that why you both took those days off?”

“Yes, we went to go visit my family.” The sun had long dipped into the horizon but you brought it back with your infectious smile. Giyuu tightens his hold around your hand, shyly ducking his head at Amane's chuckle. “We’re hoping to get married soon!”

So many Corps members had died before they could tie the knot, and many Pillars were already considered old for the wedding age…Amane had no doubt Kagaya would be delighted at the news. She offered her warmest look instead. “I'm very happy for you both - I'm sure my husband will of course allow you to take as much time off as you want to have your marriage and honeymoon.”

Your eyes lit up, if they could get any brighter. “It's very much appreciated, Ubuyashiki-san! But it would be a greater honour if you and your family could attend as well…? It's a very small thanks for everything you've done for us, but Giyuu and I would really like you all to be there.”

“Kagaya and I would be more than pleased to be there. Your Kasugai crow can let us know of the details.” Amane glances up at the sky. “I'll have to go now, but I wish you both a happy marriage ahead. See that you don't let go of such a woman, Tomioka-san.”

Giyuu's so easy to fluster. “I'll…try not to, Ubuyashiki-san.”

He promises to never do in his head though. Giyuu could do without the sun and all the fire in the world as long as he had you to light up his life. He should probably tell you that, now that he's thought of it; marriages that last long are the ones that never run out of romance, right?

You're still smiling when he turns to tell you so, but your eye is twitching at the same time. “Hey, Giyuu, did you know that I actually wrote a letter to Ubuyashiki inviting him to come to our wedding some time ago? Did you, by any chance…happen to lose it after I trusted you to deliver it?”

Oops again.

“…no. Maybe. Yes.”

BONUS:

“Did you know that Tomioka and her were already together from the start? You don't seem terribly shocked by what I said.” Amane tilts her head slightly, gaze inquisitive at her serenely smiling husband.

“I did. I didn't realize they were already planning to get married though. We must find a good wedding gift some time.”

Amane sighs half-heartedly. “And you didn't think to mention it because…?”

“Well, it was sort of like watching your own personal drama being performed.”

[charnelhouse]

teacups

pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k+ summary: Joel and you take a shower after a traumatic event. warnings: srs hurt/comfort. violence/gore. implied attempted sexual assault. trauma. panic attack. joel being too nice. A/N: same reader as the one in bad people and moments, but no need to read. Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel wondered if his luck had finally run out. His hand slid along the slippery kitchen floor as the man on top of him snarled. Joel was pinned in a way where he couldn't get a full breath in. He'd been an idiot, relying on threadbare information passed between smugglers. 

"You know that real nice house outside the wall? Only bout half a mile South? Apparently, it's empty. The guys livin' there got taken care of during a raid. A lot of shit probably left inside. Well hidden. I'll pay you to see what you can find."

Joel hadn't thought it'd be that dangerous. He needed a second pair of hands, and everything had been fine until three of the supposedly dead men had walked in on them, rifling through their shit.

"Fuck. Fuck," Joel hissed between clenched teeth as he attempted to reach for the knife that had been kicked out of his grasp. The man's arm around his throat tightened. 

Joel felt his vision tilt, his body shuddering forward. Everything was fluctuating between spots of bright yellow to deep gray. He wasn't scared for himself, but he was for her. She'd been taken into the next room. He could hear her screaming-

No-she was shrieking. Painful, warbling, animalistic noises that only rang out from people cornered without options. Joel knew them well. He'd caused them. 

His jaw clenched as she wailed, a tempest of sound that destabilized him. It cut him straight to the bone, and his head was galloping a mile a minute: no, no, no, no.

Beneath that mantra was something more explicit. Not her. Not her. Christ-not her. 

He swore he heard her shout his name. Beg: Joel. Joel. Please. 

Okay. Okay, honey. 

He went blind-white with a rage he hadn't felt in a long damn time. Despite his lack of oxygen, he braced his hands and knocked his head back. The guy yelled, loosened just enough that Joel shot forward and snatched the knife. He lifted his arm and flung the blade back, making contact with something squishy that gave under the sharp tip. Eye, he guessed, especially by how loudly the bastard was hollering. Joel whirled around to find him holding his face, blood squeezing through the creases in his knuckles. The handle trembling between fingers.

Joel jumped to his feet, jerking the knife out before driving it forward once, twice, and then a third time. He couldn't waste a second, so he jabbed the vulnerable areas. The man gurgled, frantically attempting to stem the injuries before abruptly collapsing. He’d bleed out.

Joel!

His name rocked through his head, and how much time had he just wasted? What if they'd hurt her past the point he couldn't help her? 

He ran.

***

Joel's hands were pulsing with his own heartbeat, dribbling blood from the violence of using a knife. Stabbing was a tricky business.

Joel.

As he tore through the house, he shouted her name, hoping it would comfort her to know he was coming. He'd been a fool to take her outside the walls of the QZ with only two guns and not sufficient information.

But-fuck-she'd handled herself before. 

He hadn't forgotten the night she'd taken out the three people who had killed her boyfriend. Luke had been a good man. A benevolent leader. When he’d been murdered, Joel hadn't exactly cared since he was focused on his own shit. Death had been normal. Loss was easy. Luke had been another name whispered through the channels of QZ communication.

But he did remember her.

Dolly.

It's what most of the community called her because she had a lovely, rich voice and sang a lot of Dolly Parton to help the kids sleep. 

Then, she went briefly insane. A switch flipped when she found Luke ripped and shredded with his guts out. She'd taken it in stride, seemingly calm and collected, as she wrapped his body and brought him to be burned. She'd then asked around, discovered where the three who'd done it were sleeping, and slaughtered them with a Ka-Bar.

Yes-the QZ's homecoming queen walked out of the woods covered in blood, and no one said a word. It was swept under the rug just like everything else, and who was going to complain about losing three assholes who'd murdered a decent guy for a couple ration cards and supplies?

The community had liked Luke. Respected him. 

Joel, admittedly, found the man foolish. Back then, he hadn't given Luke his attention, but once he started fucking his girlfriend, he mulled over his encounters with the blonde jock like he was studying a map. Who was he to her? How much had she liked him? How had he fucked her, pleasured her, made her smile? 

There was the tiniest piece of Joel that felt jealous. Luke was dead, but he still haunted her just like Joel's ghosts plagued him. 

Selfishly, he wanted her rage-her stunning wrath. The idea of that girl carving three people up to avenge his death was a strange, exhilarating image for him. 

In truth, Joel was deeply fucking attracted to her. Dolly. 

What had she said that night as they sheltered from the rain? The first time they'd had sex, and they both had been blind drunk. 

"He was an idiot.

"He still operated as if the rules hadn't changed. He didn't understand that you have to be a bad person to survive here. He trusted too easily. Far too empathetic for his own good." 

Joel never told her, but those words had lit a fire in him. That had been the moment he’d realized she wasn't just some sweet, pleasant angel who sang to kids. She was all teeth. She was smart-

She was still screaming. 

Joel sprinted, barreling through the final door into the dining room before he abruptly slid to a stop. He was puzzled at the scene before him. He couldn’t figure out what he was seeing.

Blood. Dark, viscous as syrup. It was all over the floors. There was arterial spray covering the pale, peeling wallpaper. Dolly was straddling one of the men, bringing her arms up and down in brutal strikes. Joel could hear the squelch of tissue. The creak of the wooden floor under her knees. She had stopped yelling at some point and now was breathing heavily-grunting low and rough. Across the room was the third guy, very obviously dead. 

Joel moved steadily toward her, calling her name softly. She wasn't hearing him, and he realized her sleeves were drenched in blood up to the shoulder. The silver of the knife continued to disappear into the purple-pink mess of the man's belly. His eyes were open and unseeing, mouth parted in shock.

"Dolly," he tried. Nothing. 

"Sweetheart." Nothing.

Finally, he lunged and seized her wrist. She yelped as the knife flew from her hand and skated across the floor. She struggled in his grip, making wet, hiccuping noises when she attempted to wrench herself from him.

"No," she spat. “No-no-no-”

Carefully, he pulled her off the man and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He shoved the side of his face against hers. She was twitching in his hold, shaking furiously. Her teeth clicked, her body taut with adrenaline. "Focus," he coaxed. "You focus for me, now."

She choked and sputtered. She attempted to crawl away, but Joel had her locked against him. Her heart was vibrating in her chest, thumping with the same fury as a battering ram. Joel scanned the room, fully digesting the utter devastation she had caused. Wordlessly, he turned her toward the paintings hanging on the walls. Gold-framed watercolors. It was something nicer, at least. 

"Look at that," he murmured.

She moaned, pushing against him. 

He waited.

***

"Joel," she gasped as if finally coming up for air. She was bending forward, nearly falling, and he latched to her back possessively.

Protectively. 

"Yeah?" His cheek was still glued to hers, his beard scraping her jaw. Both of them were slick with sweat. If he moved his head just right, he'd be able to kiss her, but it wasn't the time. Initiating something sexual seemed like bad form after whatever had gone down.

"Joel," she repeated, and he cleared his throat. Her thin, weary voice worried him.

"You're alright," he assured her. "They're all dead."

She said nothing, so he let her go lax in his arms. He studied the walls and the chandelier. He tried to count her heartbeats but found it challenging when the room stank of copper and viscera. The real stench of death.

Suddenly, she lurched in his arms.

"Teacups." She pointed to the white cabinet-so dusty it could be gray.

"Yes," he agreed slowly, puzzled. 

"Teacups," she muttered before it bloomed into a laugh that was verging on hysterical. "We should take them home." She turned, fingers caught in the opening of his shirt, tugging down like she was attempting to climb him. "Would be nice, you know? Have something pretty."

He grimaced, readjusting his stance, crouching lower to the point that his knees creaked and pain shot through his thighs. He ignored it and grasped her face, tilting it toward the delicate stream of moonlight. "Look at me," he ordered firmly. "Look at me, honey."

She did, her eyes flickering from the floral-stamped teacups to his face. She appeared gone-blood, tears and tears smeared across her nose and cheeks. Her hair was even wet with it. A disturbing memory infiltrated his head: Sarah's artwork that used to hang on their fridge. Finger-paints. Lots of red and pink. He swallowed before licking his lips. 

"Is this blood all theirs?" He asked, gesturing to her clothes. He was pissed at himself for not checking her sooner, but he figured calming her down had been the most necessary action. 

She lifted her shoulders before dropping them. She had gone somewhere else. Shit.

Gingerly, he maneuvered her into his arms to carry her up the stairs. He needed to clean her and wipe away the remnants of tonight’s mistakes. His mistakes.

***

"Get in the shower," he instructed, but she wasn't moving. He sighed, tenser now. He figured a hot shower would have excited her. A luxury neither of them had had in months, maybe longer. Joel frowned and scraped a hand over his face. 

She'd killed before, so he wasn't sure what this was? She seemed broken. Carefully, he reached for the hem of her jeans only to find her belt gone. He inhaled sharply as he began to scrutinize the rest of her outfit. He'd assumed things had gotten messy in the fray. Her sleeve was torn, and there was swelling along her throat. He took her face into his hands and moved it left to right, right to left. Looking closer, he realized her bra straps had been wrenched loose. Buttons missing on her shirt. When he pulled the collar to the side, he found a distinct bite mark. 

Joel cursed, jerking away instantly. She didn't flinch, only stared up at him sadly. 

He hadn’t meant to. It had been a reflex. A very poor one. He needed to try a softer approach and show her he wasn't fearful of her. He'd just been surprised. 

He reached for her again and began rubbing her shoulders. He found them cold and damp. Clammy. 

"They weren't infected." He was stating it as fact. Hoping.

She bit her lip. 

"Work with me here, baby. They weren't infected, right?"

She swallowed and shook her head. "It wasn't that." She blinked dazedly before continuing. "They tried…" she trailed off, and her eyes began to fill with tears. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, chewing hard as if she couldn't say the rest. She averted her gaze, and Joel felt sick.

"They didn't, Joel," she whispered. "They-they-"

He reacted immediately. 

Wrapping his arms around her, he hauled her body to his chest. "They tried," he confirmed. "They tried, and they didn't get close. You took care of 'em."

She broke.

She began sobbing into his shirt, muffling her mouth against the denim fabric. She was shaking, and Joel felt inadequate-completely lost. Inexplicably, he decided that this would be something Luke would most likely excel at. Kindness. Empathy. Understanding. Joel only felt nauseous. He felt ill with guilt and then had to banish the thought away, disappointed at his pettiness. She needed him, so he cupped the back of her head, using his thumb to draw tiny circles above her ear. 

After a few minutes, he spoke gently. "Do you want to shower?"

She fisted his collar, her back hitching under his hand. She was working herself up again, straying very close to a panic attack. He had to calm her down.

"I'll go in there with you," he offered. "I won't leave."

She stilled, though her shoulders continued to tremble in spurts of aftershocks. He could smell the blood on her. Rusty and metallic. 

"Okay," she agreed.

***

The shower felt good. Better than good. It was narrow and cramped, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she burrowed into Joel's naked chest, desperate to feel his skin. He had even been willing to get in fully clothed.

"You've been through a lot. I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"Shut up, Joel. It's fine."

The room was humid with steam, the air tinged with old blood. The shower floor had turned pink, and Joel had to detangle himself from her to search for wounds. He'd found a slit in her side, just beneath her ribs. Hardly serious, but it had to have stung. With a bar of valuable ivory soap that had been just lying on the shower step, he carefully dragged it over the injury. He crouched low, one hand holding her hip as he cleaned her. 

She said nothing as she watched him, her fingers running through his hair. Somewhere between washing her toes and beneath her breasts, he felt a strange affection for her. This was the most intimate thing they had ever done. The gentleness. The womb-like shower. The dim lights. 

 When he was done, he kissed the wound under her ribs, lips firm against velvety skin. He stood, and she regarded him with tender curiosity, her eyes far more present than they'd been ten minutes ago. He pulled her to him, his cock slightly stiffening simply because she was beautiful and molded into his frame, and his body reacted to her regardless of his intentions.

"I was scared," she confessed as the water sluiced down them, drumming the tile floor. "I was so scared they'd killed you already, and I couldn't do anything."

"I think," he said, lightly teasing. "You managed to do quite a bit."

She huffed, shoving her face into his throat, nose rooting along his jaw. She used enough force that his back hit the wall and his arms automatically rose to cradle her. He said nothing, just let her find him, use him as she needed. She'd been terrified for him even when they'd attempted to harm her. He swallowed thickly as a new wave of anger pulsed in the trenches of his marrow. He hoped one was still breathing downstairs, unable to move. Joel would make it hurt.

He felt her shift in his arms, and as she relaxed, it cooled his temper. She stood on tiptoes, her mouth running along his ear. He shivered and attempted to calm himself down-think of anything else. 

"I did it for me," she whispered. "But-but I also did it for you. I'd kill for you if I had to."

Stunned, he gripped the nape of her neck and forced her face from his throat. He pulled her eyes to his. He wanted to tell her that she'd certainly already done that. He didn't want her to have to, even if it shot heat through his bones.

"You did a hell of a job," he managed to say instead. He was drunk off the shower steam and hot water, and her breath was cool against his mouth. "You did so fuckin' well, sweetheart."

***

Afterward, Joel tucked her into one of the beds. She reached for him, her lids heavy and movements sluggish. He promised her he'd come back after he checked the house. He didn't kiss her, but he thought about it. Things were changing. He shook his head, interning those worries for another day. He swapped his tenderness with something easy. 

Anger.

He found outrage and clawed his fingers into its familiar texture. 

There it was. Fury and revenge were his old, perfect lovers, and he felt them as he stood outside her door. They touched him, caressed him, begging to be used.

For her. 

Joel would do this for her even if it meant nothing. Even if the damage was already done. He needed somewhere to put it. He needed somewhere to place those emotions because he certainly wouldn't take it out on her, fuck her simply for stress relief after what had happened tonight. 

"Joel?" From inside the room, her voice rang small. It distressed him. Bury that, too. 

He rested his forehead against the closed door, sighing. "Yeah?"

"Will you check if they're gone, please?"

"Of course."

***

Silently, he went downstairs, found a hammer from one of the men's belt loops, and then ruined whatever she had left still whole in the dining room. Skulls. Ribs. Bones. He crushed them all, fractured them to bits and pieces for what they had done to him and his. 

[threepandas]

Bad End: Hidden Heir

Next ->

The Duke's family had very distinct eyes. It was genetic. An aggressively dominant trait at that, though it tended to die off, after a few generations out of the family. Supposedly a "blessing of the Gods". Spring to be exact. Bounty and luck. And the family certainly WAS bountiful.

In all the best and worst ways.

Wealth, corruption, children and bastards. It was a family so aggressively ALIVE, it could only be Spring's blessing that made them so. Pouring mania and madness into their veins like sweet sunlight. Whispering glory and riches, into power addled ears. They burst with life. Even as they endlessly destroyed themselves.

They were fictional.

Fascinating set dressings, for the stage play of someone else's story. Unimportant beyond their role in world building. As the origin story and power base of a character lead.

The Story ITSELF didn't even occur here. But rather, in the capital. Where the players of significance had gathered.

And I? Oh I was some minor antagonist, so insignificant to the plot, I genuinely could not remember which of seven different women I actually WAS. It had been an ongoing series. Otome Isekai. Reverse harem.

And I was either in the ORIGINAL original novel, the isekai'd plot novel, the anime adaption, OR a horrifying fever dream. My memory was largely useless. But? I did remember the characters. The archetypes.

And the fact, that the author had clearly been going though a Yandere phase.

My region of the Reverse Harem collect-o-thon? Horrifying! Red flags everywhere! No one here should date, leave room for fantasy Jesus, have we considered the joys of being a NUN? Yes. Yes I HAVE thought about it.

I was pretty sure I'd never make it. End up dead or captured by some sort of Nun Yandere. Or God Yandere. Possibly both. Assuming the bandit yanderes don't get me first. It... it was very stressful, living here.

Luckily? I knew when I could leave.

Or so I thought.

Because my house? The Dukedom? Had the "yandere butler who is secretly an heir." Who starts out with loyal dog behavior. A little highly possesive master and servant play. Then rises to become a Duke. Presumably? That is when I die. Or am disowned.

Death is most likely. Since my role was "minor antagonist" and I was to be mean to the sweet, earnest, Harem possessing Protagonist. Don't see WHY I would. Live and let live. Good for her etc etc. But regardless? Best to avoid, just in case.

The problem? Who do you think Mr Illegitimate Heir serves before she gets here? The OTHER possible heirs? Of course not! They'd "oops! Hunting accident~☆" him in a heart beat. Father isn't stupid. And my sisters? Issues. Violent, violent, issues.

He ends up with ME.

Father, WHY.

Obviously, I ignore him. I see nothing. I hear nothing. There is no war in Ba Sing Se. Mmmmm, tea. Good book. Ignore his creepy staring. His creepy, creepy staring.

Thankfully? I never really ran out of Totally Legitimate reasons to send him away to learn or do something. Proper tea making. Door maintenance. Eastern embroidery. Something, anything, and off you go! Bye bye~☆!

Unfortunately. He got faster. Better and better at learning. Mastering skills. Coming BACK. Showing up to stand in the corner, silent and looming, like an omen of death. Those damn eyes. The fucking family eyes!

I don't have them. And NOT as, my Father would have me believe, because I "take after my Mother". But because I am not genetically related to the Duke. I have GOLD eyes. When I wear the right shade of green? I pass. So I am condemned to forever wear green. Don't even really like it much. But?

I am pretty damn sure? I was just... pretty.

A lovely, orphaned, golden eyed child that COULD pass as his. So why not? It was a whim that payed off. Unlike in the original stories, I imagine. Since I am by FAR the best behaved child in this entire house. Ha! Suck it, bio-kids, the adopted one's the favorite! Maybe should have been less lil bitchs.

....I carefully do not say.

Those are INSIDE thoughts.

Fuck. He's still LOOMING. Isn't he? Go awaaaaaay. Where is Protag-chan? Come be doe eyed and busty! Trip adorably! Go "kyaaa~" or something! I feel body heat and freeze. He's leaning over my shoulder to pick up the teapot, pour me another cup. I can FEEL the barest graze of his knuckles against my back, from where he's gripped my chair. The smell of his aftershave almost hauntingly pleasant.

Like he KNEW exactly what smells I liked most. Went out of his way to find one that best suited my preference. Coincidence. Please, PLEASE be a coincidence! I do not turn my head. Keep my eyes locked straight ahead. Barely breathing.

He steps back.

The new pot is sharp and herbal. Almost bitter. I force myself to drink. Can't see a sugar dish, and REFUSE to turn around and ask for one. Ignore. IGNORE. My pounding heart calms. My muscles slowly start to relax.

It... it IS weird, though, now that I think about it? That Protag-chan hasn't reached the Dukedom yet. She should have. God only knows I sent Creepy to the capital enough times, with enough highly specific instructions, that he should've had his meet cute's and dates by the dozen. Been half way in love. So... why...?

Huh.

Dizzy.

The taste of tea sits wrong on my tounge. I stop drinking as the world sways. Letting the cup fall from my hand. Splatter, roll, and shatter. I try desperately to stand. A gentle gloved hand catches my elbow, supporting me. I turn. Giddy eyes. Triumphant, wide, spring green eyes. Too green to be gold, too gold to be green.

An almost cruel, mocking, yet loving grin.

Another hand slides around my waist, braces me against his side. Gleeful little murmurs, too pleased to be reassuring. You. You did this! You DRUGGED ME!

I can barely move, body relaxing against my command, going limp, as he draws me close. Presses his face against the side of my head, against my temple. A deep, shuddering breathe, that he savors like wine. I try to pull free but can not. Feel his lips pull into a vicious grin against my skin. Hands begin to run in gentle, claiming, exploration.

And at last the drugs kick in... the wo..rld..

G..oes..

Dar..k........

[hotvintagepoll]

Jean Arthur (The Talk of the Town, Too Many Husbands)—It's Jean Arthur! She supposedly named herself after King Arthur and Joan of Arc so she's got that weird gender swag and her voice is often described as frog-like! She's kinda small yet always has the energy she could beat up any of the guys around her. In fact, in The Talk of the Town she attacks some cops with a wrench. Hot! Her vibes are so weird and I'm in love with her. Hope that helps.

Jack Lemmon (The Great Race, The Apartment, Some Like It Hot)—He's the everyman, he's clumsy, he's strange, in nearly every movie he finds himself in the oddest of circumstances because he's taken advantage of or because of... bad luck? You empathize with him, he's really a little guy. And yet... Why is he so hot? Why does he have this charm, this hidden fire, this weird kind of... elegance? You can't help but sense this magnetism he radiates. There is power in his charming eccentricity and clumsiness. He just really draws you in and you want to explore what it is that makes him so scrungly and so attractive at once.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Jean Arthur:

wait wait wait come back i can justify this i promise!! yes. i know she is heaven on earth. her voice sings to the angels and croaks with the frogs. i am also aware she is a luminous blonde. however h a v e you considered the gospel that a fruity screwball blonde dame can, in fact, scrungle? in her own bizarre fashion? i present her entire filmography but also this clip as evidence. look at her little twinkle as she sics her two husbands against each other and loves every second of it.

in this one she starts disassociating because she's going to buy a dog.

Jack Lemmon:

his chemistry with judy holliday in their two movies together is ZOINKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but i couldn't find any clips of that so watch him have mad chemistry with peter falk instead in my favorite campiest film of all time instead

His character in Glengary Glen Ross is literally the archetype Pathetic Guy. Even if you haven't seen this film I PROMISE you have seen iterations of Jack Lemmon's character from it. His character in Days of Wine and Roses will break your heart and show what an amazing range he has. [editor's note: I haven't seen either of these films so don't consider them recs from me. Also please keep your propaganda within the 1910-1970 range. tw for alcoholism in the clip below.]

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Cellbit runs an alchemy shop with his family, and he's also the lost prince of the Gato Kingdom, but he isn't, but he really really isn't, you've gotta believe him, he isn't, really, he isn't, you've gotta-

For day seven of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Royalty/Family

-

The day starts off normally:

Cellbit wakes up to find himself alone in bed, Roier having already gone to work downstairs in the store.

He lazes beneath the covers before hearing his son shouting in the other room. Grudgingly, he gets up, slides on his slippers and his bathrobe, and he goes to get Richarlyson settled with a new coloring book because, according to Richarlyson, Pepito ate the last one.

(Pepito did not eat the last one.)

Cellbit goes back into his bedroom to change, and then he goes to the wash basin in the hallway to brush his teeth and wash his face. He goes to the kitchen, shoves a singe slice of bread in his mouth for breakfast, tells the kids to behave, decides to live in ignorance and believe that they actually listened to him, and then, finally, he goes downstairs to help Roier with the shop.

That's when things get weird because, instead of the normal dozen or so customers they usually get in the mornings before things get busy, there are a handful of people in shiny armor with pointy swords, and there's a woman with cat ears leaning against the counter talking at an indifferent Roier.

Cellbit freezes on the stairs. Absently, his hands raise to his own ears, thankfully pinned down today with his alchemical goggles. He tends to have them out more days than not now, but. Well. Old habits die hard.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Roier casually say. He isn't even looking at the woman, he's, instead, inspecting his nails- recently painted by Jaiden and absolutely adorable, just like he is. "But we do have a sale on luck potions if you wanna try one of those."

The woman's eyebrow twitches, and, for whatever reason, Cellbit doesn't think that she's here to buy something. Between the fine quality of her clothes and the literal knights with her and her entire aura, she just screams royalty, and that's a bad thing.

That's a really bad thing.

But Roier seems to have it under control, so, silently, Cellbit starts sneaking back up the stairs. If Roier needs him, he'll scream, and then Cellbit will rush down and kill everybody in the room and blame it on a sudden alchemical reaction gone wrong. Easy.

Except:

The door to the living quarters slams open and Pepito comes rushing out of it with tears streaming down his face.

"Apa!" he cries, leaping into Cellbit's arms and nearly sending him stumbling back down the stairs. "Richarlyson ate my crayons and now he's dying!"

(Richarlyson is not dying.)

Cellbit can practically smell the irritation coming off of Roier, even if he can't see him with his back turned to both him and the store and the really annoying royalty inside.

And, sure, Cellbit is annoyed, too, but he's also a father. So he just sighs and holds his son and lets him cry into his shoulder.

"Who's there?" one of the knights asks.

There's the sound of a sword being drawn, and then there's the sound of another sword being drawn and, really, is a peaceful retirement too much to ask for? Pac and Mike got one. Bad got one. Even Etoiles has some sort of retirement plan he's supposedly following between father-daughter dungeon-busting field trips.

The way Pepito is being held has him looking down the stairs and at the very rude people about to kill his parents, so Cellbit turns around so that Pepito is facing the door instead. He's always preferred looking danger in the face, anyway; it's much easier to be stabbed in the back than the front, after all.

Cellbit passively looks from one knight to another. He skips his eyes over the woman entirely. He catches Roier's eye, subtly rolls his own eyes, adjusts his hold on Pepito.

"Sorry," Cellbit says, "but my son is dying. I'll be right back."

"He's dead!" Pepito wails, ever-helpful. He's such a good kid.

The woman frowns. Cellbit doesn't think he likes her face. It's too... uncanny, like a doll come to life. Or, rather, like an image escaped from the mirror above the wash basin, and Cellbit does not like the implications of that, thanks.

As the knights start to advance, the woman holds up a hand to stop them.

"Hurry up," she says.

"Yeah," Roier agrees. "Tell Richas to die quicker, we have company."

Pepito screeches right into Cellbit's ear, making him wince very angrily in Roier's direction; all Roier does is wink and motion with his fingers for Cellbit to hurry up.

Cellbit quickly takes Pepito back into their living quarters and puts him down on the sofa.

Richarlyson is on the floor, very calm, very much not dying, and very much using Pepito's crayons in his own coloring book.

Pepito gasps, tears gone and replaced with wide, shocked eyes.

"But you ate them!" he exclaims.

Cellbit sighs, "Your brother is a magician, now can you two please behave for ten minutes while Roier and I deal with those people downstairs?"

Richarlyson's head perks up. "There are people downstairs?"

Cellbit nods. "Bad people, probably. If you hear glass breaking, you know what to do."

It's Richarlyson's turn to nod.

They have a plan. If things go down in the shop, Richarlyson and Pepito stay upstairs and hide until either Cellbit or Roier goes to get them. If the kids hear glass breaking, they are to escape out their bedroom window and climb down the tree outside and run to their Uncle Bad's house until Cellbit and Roier can get rid of the bad guys and save the day.

(Roier's words, not Cellbit's. Apparently, calling unruly customers or the police "the enemy" is bad. Go figure.)

Cellbit makes the kids both pinky promise him to follow the plan before letting out a long, stressed-out breath and starting back downstairs.

First, though, he dips into the kitchen and grabs his favorite butcher knife from off of the counter and tucks it into the custom-made sheath hidden beneath his jacket. Just in case.

Once downstairs, he's immediately manhandled by the knights until he's pushed up against the counter. Unfortunately, he isn't pushed behind the counter. But at least he can act as a shield... just in case.

On instinct, Cellbit reaches behind himself and takes Roier's hand. Roier takes it and squeezes gently, his thumb rubbing little circles into the skin by his thumb.

"Well," Cellbit says, looking from the knights to the woman, "you want something. What is it."

It isn't a question. It's more of a demand, really, and maybe he's stupid for demanding answers of royalty, but, like. Fuck the monarchy. What have they ever done for him?

The woman speaks: "We're looking for whichever one of you is Cellbit."

If they weren't already pinned down, Cellbit's ears would be flattening themselves to the top of his head. He bites back a hiss and instead just squeezes Roier's hand.

The woman continues with, "I'd like to bring him back with us to-"

"Yeah, okay," Roier casually says. "I'm Cellbit, hello."

Out of the corner of his eye, Cellbit can see Roier waving; he stifles a smile. He's so stupid...

Cellbit turns around and gasps dramatically. "Gatinho, no! You can't leave us!"

Roier bites his lip and looks away, turning his head to the side.

"But guapito," he says, dropping his voice an octave just for effect, "if I don't go, then... what about you and the children? They might-" (He moans and bows his head.) "-kill you. And then what would I do with myself?"

"Oh, don't worry!" the woman quickly says. "We won't hurt your family! That's why we're here, actually, to bring you and your family with us."

Cellbit ignores her. He reaches across the counter and cups Roier's cheek with his free hand, gently nudges his face until he raises his head and looks Cellbit in the eye; Roier's eyes are already wet with unshed tears, wow, he's good.

"But what will I do without you?" Cellbit demands, pitching his voice up just slightly. "Don't be stupid! I love you, pendejo!"

(They do this a lot, believe it or not. It drives Richarlyson crazy every time they do it because it somehow always ends up with them kissing until they're out of breath and shaky in the knees.)

"Não!" Roier cries. He squeezes his eyes shut and rips himself away from Cellbit entirely, staggering back and leaning against a display shelf full of anti-gravity potions. "Don't say that!"

"Say what?" Cellbit asks. "I love you!"

Roier screams and flinches against the case. "Não!"

Cellbit leans over the counter. "I love you."

Roier moans his time, his hands flying out wildly and grasping onto seemingly-random bottles on the shelf. "Não!!"

Cellbit extends a hand. "I. Love. You. Te amo, guapito."

One of the knights asks, "What the fuck is going on?"

And then the knights all start shouting as Roier opens his eyes and lunges to shove a potion into Cellbit's hands.

Cellbit grins and yanks the cork out of the bottle and chugs the potion and slams the empty bottle against the floor. It shatters, and he jumps.

"What the fuck?" the woman demands.

Cellbit twists mid-air and lands on the ceiling. He waves down at Roier, blows him a kiss, and takes off running for the back potion room. The door is closed, but the ventilation window above the door is open because he was supposed to be making potions right now. Silver linings.

He dives through the window, just barely managing to squirm through. He grunts, frowns, regrets getting this old, makes it through.

His goggles are nudged off of his head, though, leaving his ears on full display as he escapes into the potion room.

The woman gasps, "Get back here! Cellbit!"

But Roier just cheers, "Corre, gatinho!"

The potion room's door thuds and shakes in its hinges as the knights all slam against it. But, like, fuck those guys.

Cellbit runs down the length of the ceiling until he's reached the wall facing the alley behind the shop. He steps onto the wall, and then he runs down that until he's by the window. Again, ventilation, he should be working right now, but no, he can never know a moment of peace.

The potion starts running out just as Cellbit crawls through the window and lands on the shop's outside wall. He wrinkles his nose at the smell, but it's fine. Just trash, it's fine.

There's shouting from the front of the shop and the sounds of more bottles shattering. Roier sounds fine, though. He's even laughing, of course he is. He's badass, and Cellbit loves him, and Cellbit just wishes he was there to watch Roier swing his sword around like the sexy piece of shit he is.

The potion's effects wear off as Cellbit's feet touch the ground; two minutes, just as he'd made it to be.

He can see Richarlyson and Pepito running for it at the far end of the alley. Good, they actually followed directions for once.

Cellbit turns to run after them and get Bad's help, but he's stopped by a firm hand grabbing his shoulder from behind.

He snarls and pulls his knife out of his coat, spinning and slashing and just narrowly missing the woman's throat.

"Cellbit!" she shouts. "Calm down, it's just me!"

Cellbit responds by lunging at her with his teeth bared. He's been filing his teeth down for years, but he knows that he still cuts an intimidating figure when he's pissed enough.

The woman doesn't seem afraid, though. If anything, she just seems angry. And sad. Mostly angry.

She easily sidesteps his attack and yells, "It's me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Oh, that's cute. Royalty asking why someone would want to hurt them, that's funny. They have the self-awareness of a walnut, all of them.

"Stop shouting 'it's me'!" Cellbit snaps. "Why should I care who you are?"

The woman's face starts turning red from frustration. "Because I'm your sister!"

Oh, that's rich.

"I don't have a sister," Cellbit sneers.

He swipes at her. Of course he does, he doesn't have a sister. He didn't have a family before he and the others found Richarlyson, and he only has one now that he has his kids and his husband.

"Then why do we have the same ears?" the woman demands.

She ducks under his knife and sweeps his legs out from under him. He falls and hisses and growls and does all sorts of things that princes might do because he isn't royalty. He knows that for certain. His first memory was him eating the corpse of a soldier on an empty battlefield, and it's with that image in mind that he snaps his teeth at the woman's throat.

"Only the royal family of the Gato Kingdom is born with feline features," the woman snaps. "Idiot!"

"Fuck the Gato Kingdom," Cellbit spits. "Your war destroyed everything I had!"

The woman's eyes turn sad. "It destroyed everything I had, too. It took my family from me. My friends. My home. We're just now starting to rebuild, and-"

She shrieks as Cellbit manages to flip their positions so that she's the one being pinned to the ground.

"So you show up and try kidnapping someone to fill in for your lost prince?" he snarls. "You people haven't changed."

The woman's mouth thins into an angry line. "I'm not trying to kidnap you! I just want to bring you home!"

"I don't have a home! This is my home!"

"You really don't remember, do you?" she asks, voice low. She isn't even struggling any more, not really. "It's me, your sister. Bagi."

The name stings Cellbit's brain in a way he doesn't like.

"I don't know you," he firmly says. "You don't know me. Leave my family alone."

He stands, hands shaking, head spinning. He doesn't like this.

Roier calls his name from the front of the building.

Cellbit, sure that this Bagi won't do anything while she's busy crying, turns and starts running towards the store.

He doesn't make it three steps before getting thwacked in the back of the head with something large and heavy and metal.

"Sorry," Bagi flatly says.

As he falls to the ground, his knife falls from his hand and ends up just out of reach.

He lands on his stomach and immediately tries standing again.

But he's stopped by a foot on his back pressing him down.

"I'll be sure to bring your family with us," Bagi tells him. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Could have fooled me," Cellbit mutters.

Darkness takes him at last as Bagi smacks him again with her weapon, and all Cellbit can think is that he hopes that the kids ended up making it to Bad's after all.

[hariboz]

here you go nonnie!! took a while again i’m sorry 😵‍💫

boyfriend!gunwook who never misses a thing you say. whether it be a joke no one else heard, a little chime of agreement to something a friend said, an annoyed grumble at a topic you loathe — gunwook picks up on it all. it doesn’t matter how many people you’re hanging out with, or who he’s currently talking to. he always has an eye — and ear — out for you, encouraging you to speak up and if the situation calls for it, even diverts everyone’s attention to you because he wants to make sure you know people listen to you <3

boyfriend!gunwook who laughs at your jokes like no one else ever has. his giggling at your offhand joke alone is enough to make you feel like comedy is your true calling. it’s a little embarrassing when he runs off to get a friend to listen to your little joke, gunwook so proud of your apparent comedic genius he doesn’t even really pick up on the fact the joke really only lands with him — which is enough for you anyways, because his uncontrollable giggles are the only ones you want to hear.

boyfriend!gunwook who is very particular about his cuddle time, and he will play dirty if you force him to by trying to deprive him of his cuddles. uses his whole body if he has to, clinging to you like you’d evaporate the second you aren’t tightly squished against him. huffs and puffs when you try to wiggle free, whining back even louder when you start complaining that you have to go to the bathroom. good luck getting out of his grasp <3

boyfriend!gunwook who thrives on teasing you, specifically regarding things he’s supposedly better at. he’s taller? get ready for all the cheesy short jokes you’ve heard before, your stuff magically appearing on shelves out of reach. he’s stronger? incessant flexing while doing the most mundane tasks. he’s faster, better at mario kart, won against you in monopoly once? welp, too bad, he’s never letting it die. as cliché as his jokes and comments may be, they have a certain sweetness to them when he breathes them out between his giggles, so you don’t mind too much when he’s looking at you like that.

boyfriend!gunwook who really enjoys doing cute little spa dates with you. he enjoys doing you skin care together, talking about your days while peeling face masks off your face. his favourite thing, though, is when you do his skincare for him after he had a bad week. he just lays down and lets you do your thing, and the way you gently massage the product into his face, cooing at his sleepy face truly makes him forget about why he was upset in the first place. :( <3

boyfriend!gunwook who cannot bear the thought of you upset. “y/n” and “upset” shouldn’t even go into the same sentence, in his opinion. he’s your all-in-one stop when you’re upset; he’s comfort in all possible ways. he offers you an ear and just listens if that’s what you want, nodding along and running his hand through your hair soothingly. he offers advice and his opinion if you ask for it, he cuddles with you in silence and let’s you cry into him if that what you need. he’s your distraction, maybe taking you out to eat to get you out of your slump, maybe offering a silly rant himself to have your mind focus on something else, maybe just sitting cuddled up next to you while watching another rerun of your favourite show. he’d play your personal jester as long as it gets at least a tiny smile back on your face... </3

[gatitties]

Hellooo! Im so happy you opened your request 😩Can i request something for platonic Yandere strawhats (zoro and luffy really) with a teen! Reader who acts snarky and bold but they’re scared of everything form a butterfly to a emperor of the sea so they refuse to join the crew? If possible could you include law as well. Tyy💕

─Yandere!Strawhats (Luffy & Zoro) & Law x teen!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: you are a stubborn teenager and you refuse to have extra 'protection', bad luck for you…

─Warnings: manipulation, death, mention of gutting someone, blood, unjustified obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff...

─ Are you an idiot? Affectionate question that these two ask each other when they meet you.

─ You are brave and stubborn enough to get hurt during a fight but you run away if you see a butterfly because bugs are ugly and scary according to you.

─ And on top of that you deny his offer to be on his crew? Your pride is going to make these two men bald, they are doing all this for your good, you should be more aware of their actions.

─ Luffy is by your side day and night repeating over and over again that you are part of his crew, he will refuse to leave the island without you, you are too young, inexperienced and afraid to survive on your own even if you have family who can take care of you.

─ In fact, Zoro already took care of that, definitely if your family members didn't exceed his expectations, which to no one's surprise, they didn't, they wouldn't be able to protect you like he would.

─ It took them at least a week to persuade you enough with some manipulation, with the help of Robin, and even when you were half convinced to leave in search of not-so-desired adventures, they ended up kidnapping you because you were still stubborn.

─ So you found yourself glued to two idiots against your will, playing games with Luffy that even at your age wouldn't find fun, watching in silence as Zoro flexed his muscles while he trained.

─ And if you thought that someone from the crew was going to help you get out of that spiral of obsession you were very wrong, if they weren't threatened, they would also be somewhat obsessed with keeping you safe after spending some time by your side.

─ They will take advantage of how scared you are, literally anything would make you jump two meters off the ground, once you were scared of your own shadow, everyone will take advantage of it to scare you and make you hug them.

─ No matter how much you fight, Luffy needs at least one hug daily and will wrap his rubber arms around you completely suffocating you, Zoro is not that fussy, but he will use you as a stuffed animal to hug during his naps.

─ Don't even think about seeking comfort from anyone other than them or at least part of the crew when you're scared, they are the only ones who can help you, understand, the others only want to use you and won't take care of you as well as they do.

─ Many failed escape attempts, either because you have been caught or because you were just sailing through waters infected with sea monsters, you always end up locked up overnight as punishment.

─ If necessary, they will knock you out so that you do not put yourself in danger, your sarcasm and sometimes bad temper can put you in dangerous situations and they are not going to go through that, they would have to kill someone again.

─ He was just passing by, your island was in a small fever pandemic and Law was just helping the whole town a little, however you seemed so out of it when you were sick, so lost and hurt, you reminded him of his sister.

─ He simply took you away to, supposedly, cure you since he had better equipment on the submarine, you couldn't even fight against this because seriously, it seems like you have one foot in the grave when you're sick.

─ He got rid of all your discomforts, but he also discovered that you were a big mouth, but hey, no one likes to be kidnapped so he got a good dose of irritating adolescence.

─ It was difficult to make you see reason that you would be much better off with him and that your island was potentially dangerous, it's not like you came to reason but he forced you to listen to him and collaborate with some threats.

─ He was quite surprised when one night you asked him to sleep with him because you saw a spider prowling around your room, even though you were a very sarcastic and sassy person, you were very scared and he used that as an advantage.

─ Do you want to get out of the submarine? It's okay, just hold his hand and you can go anywhere, do you want to go outside alone? No way, do you know about the insects, contagious diseases and monsters that can wait for you out there? Of course not, you're just a teenager.

─ He always makes excuses that something that terrifies you is hanging around the islands where you stop.

─ Maybe if you get too annoying or whiny about not being able to go out on your own, he'll let you go on your own for a bit… although it only gives you a false feeling of freedom since you always have one of the crew members watching you closely.

─ No teenage romance, he is not going through that time, if necessary he will show you the person you like dissected to scare you enough to think twice about trying to escape.

─ Consider all escape attempts a failure because Law has everything really calculated and the crew is too afraid at this point, they were the ones who had to clean the mutilated corpses of the people who were on the blacklist.

─ Because Law wrote down each of the people who have done something to you that he considers bad or harmful to you.

─ He has already lost a sister, he's not going to lose another even if you are not related to him by blood.