#but not ones that I desperately can't find

[ihaveasolutionbutyouwontlikeit]

Like anything it always comes down to choice.

From the outside it may look like a disability is making me choose an option that seems favourable, but that option is favourable only because we get to choose it.

I'm tired, I choose to rest. I'm rested, I chose to get up. Rinse and repeat.

What actually happens is I'm tired, I'm injured, I deal with chronic pain or unpredictable symptoms, I'm sad, I'm hurting, I'm recovering, I'm depressed, I'm watching the world burn, I'm in burnout and I wish I could do ANYTHING else but be here in this bed but I CAN'T, I'm stuck here, trapped with this thing that is actually holding me against my will, this malady or state is holding me back from doing the things I DESPERATELY want to do.

There is grief and pain and feelings in there that come with being forced to do something against your will, even if it is "just" staying in bed and coming from the self, and they are valid.

May you never know what it is like to be held in place against your will, or forced to do things you never had a choice in, by your own body and mind.

If you do, I can only say that you are not alone, and I love every holding on and hoping and crying and breaking and healing and tumultuous part of you. Accepting this aspect of ourselves is the most heartbreaking and healing thing we could ever do, and I wish it was the case that acceptance only had to happen once, but that's not real. This breaking and healing will happen again and again and again and again. And you will keep doing, you will keep trying, and you will keep dreaming. Each time may take something valuable from you, but each time will leave something valuable too. It will give yourself and the world you in your truest and strongest form.

If you do, I don't blame you for having done what you sometimes had to, to hold on. Pain and despair turns everyone into shadows of themselves. It does not and never will define you.

I love you on your good days,

but I love you more on the bad ones.

May your soul find peace in its storms and love in its heart. You are not alone.

If you've ever told a person who's had to be bedbound for a period of time that you wish you could "just stay in bed", DO IT.

Stay in bed. For days. But don't get up if someone needs you to, or you get bored, or you get antsy. Don't do anything other than rest. Just lie in your bed, whether you need to get stuff done around the house or socialize or anything else "productive". You'll have to cancel on people, you'll disappoint them, they won't understand.

And if you're thinking, "well, i CAN'T just be in bed. There's stuff that has to be done - I have plans", maybe ask yourself why you assumed a disabled person doesn't have plans or things to do or desires.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Game On. | Touya x Reader Imagine 🌶

LOLOL But imagine Touya fucking up into you bare for the first time...

Oh, you can't!? Well let me do it for you...

He finally has you naked in his bed like he's been dreaming about ever since you joined up with the League of Villains.

You'd knocked on his door and kissed him when he'd answered it - putting a fiery seal on 6 months of mutual pining and flirtation. You'd been so desperate for each other that he'd pulled you into his arms and kicked the door closed behind you. His lips were everywhere - your mouth, your cheeks, your pulse point. He'd unbuttoned your shirt and shed you of your clothes in record time. There was no time to be embarrassed about your nakedness - not when there's so much of Touya you still need to explore.

You pull at his hair, bite at his lips, run your hands down his toned, stapled body...there wasn't time to grab a condom, not when you need each other this badly. You were already so wet and desperate for him, he pressed his thick cock into you so easily. Touya slid into you smoothly like a knife into room temperature butter.

And so now here you are, riding him. Bouncing up and down on his cock like there's no tomorrow, like you won't need to have a serious conversation about what you mean to each other after this is all done.

Nope - no thinking. No planning ahead. Just you riding his emo fucking dick and cooing at him as he throws his head back and lets out the sluttiest little sounds you've ever heard.

His piercings and staples glint in the low light and his large hands move to grip at your hips, his touch almost bruising in intensity. His cock twitches and bullies its way up into your tight pussy as he searches for your G-spot. You gasp when he finds it, and he grins wickedly up at you when he feels you reflexively squeeze around him. He focuses in on repeating the motion again and again. Your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts as he speeds up, grinding into you.

"You wanna cum, babe? You want me to fill up this tight fuckin' pussy?" He speeds up and brings a calloused thumb between the two of your bodies in order to rub at your clit. Heat pools in your lower belly and your cheeks heat up as you feel yourself at the verge of release. Touya grins up at you, wicked white teeth glimmering as he fucks you, enjoying himself.

"Don't worry about cumming too early, sweetheart. I bet I can get at least 3 orgasms out of you tonight." He flashes you a smile of bright white teeth as his cock twitches deep inside of you.

And at his inspired dirty talk, you fall over the edge and into oblivion, creaming on the cock of one of the most wanted villains in Japan. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you feel your pussy clench tightly around his dick, pulsing and fluttering in time with the pleasure of your orgasm.

Touya's icy blue eyes bore into your own. As he watches you cum, something in him falters and his eyes grow a fraction wider. It takes you a moment before you register what's going on - your orgasm is milking pleasure out of Touya's cock and the goddamn idiot is also cumming. His dick twitches once, twice, three times as he cums deep inside of you, fucking his ejaculate deeper and deeper into your tiny cunt.

Reading his body language you realize - his orgasm had taken you both by surprise. The goddamn idiot had thought he could holdout longer. But now here he is, filling you up to the brim with his thick baby batter.

"Fuuuuck!" He groans out, eyes fluttering shut as his hips work overtime to draw out his release. "Fuckin' hell." You feel his thick, hot ropes of cum filling you up and making the tail end of your own orgasm even more intense.

You groan as you both finish, crying out his name in such a pretty way that he doesn’t know what to do. His hands grab anything they can find – your hips, your breasts, your neck. He feels so good and he craves closeness – he’d climb into your goddamn skin if he could.

When you both come down from that heaven-sent high, you fall onto his chest and nuzzle into his neck. You're absolutely spent.

“Wow.” Is all you can say as you feel him gently pull out of you, cool air hitting your pussy as cum and arousal gush onto the sheets. He shifts you into a more comfortable position and you shiver as the sweat on your body cools in the AC.

“I’ll last longer next time.” He says, softness creeping into his voice. He sounds...embarrassed? You smile, savoring the rare spark of vulnerability. All sense of angry bravado has been abandoned now that he’s fucked out and breathless.

“You’d better.” You try to challenge him, but you’re too tired and too boneless to hold up your end of banter. “Hold me?”

He wraps his arms around you, strong biceps flexing against your bare skin. You feel the hard metal of staples scratch lightly across your skin as you curve into him. You shift your gaze up to his beautiful face, his mouth quirked into an unsteady smile.

His ice blue eyes search your face as he croaks out: “So…are we actually doing this?”

“Doing what?” You ask shakily, afraid of what his answer might be.

“You know damn well ‘what.’” He scowls, but his expression is softer than usual as he squeezes you to him. You can feel his heartbeat pulsing where your chests lay flush against each other. “I want you too badly. I want you to be mine.”

“Like…in a hookup-fuck-buddy kinda way? Or in an intense, deep devotion relationshipy way?” You ask, suppressing a giggle as Touya scowls at you with those endless icy eyes of his.

“Don’t make me say it.” He says gruffly, rolling his eyes as he looks past your face to stare hard into the cracking ceiling. “The latter. I need you all to myself. Idiot.”

“Touya, you’re so goddamn mushy I can’t stand it.” You say sarcastically, bringing up a hand to trace his sharp jawline. He fuckin leans into the touch. He’s so whipped for you, you practically glow with the realization. “So does that make me your girlfriend?” You tease.

He huffs, throwing you off of him and onto your back. You hit the plush mattress and sink in a bit, surprised at his sudden roughness. Seconds later he’s on top of you, kissing down your neck and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and sucking at the skin there. A bright hickey blooms quickly under his mouth and he smiles at it, content.

“If calling you my girlfriend gives me unrestricted access to this gorgeous fuckin’ body…then, yeah. I’ll let you be my girlfriend, sweetheart.” He whispers harshly, his fingers coming down to rub against your abused clit. You gasp, still over stimulated from your orgasm.

“You’re such a shithead jerk, Touya.” You moan in discomfort as he slips a finger inside of you with a squelch, pushing his cum back inside of you.

“Yeah, but doll I’m you’re ‘shithead jerk’ now. No take backs.”

You can feel him already getting hard again against your thigh, and you spread your legs to give him better access to your pussy.

Oh you are gonna have fun with boyfriend Touya. You gasp as he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot deep inside your still-shaky cunt.

You grin wickedly up at his ceiling.

Game on.

-------------------------

Woohoo a rare little one shot ficlet! Hope you enjoyed!

XOXO, RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

🔥Link to My Master List 🔥

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[dark-dragon-8]

A Supernatural × Batman crossover where the Batfam are actual cryptids and the brothers are sent to hunt them, only to find out that these guys are pretty much immortal, god like beings whose only weaknesses are each other, the sun and some weird sentient manifestation of their home city that they seem to care about, and most of them already grew out of the second one, since, apparently, the sun only affects them when they're newborns/newly transformed/changed.

The whole reason they ended up in Gotham in the first place was because of some online rumors saying that there is a demon cult in the city, as well as Blüdhaven [it's true, partially, the Bat clan has had several cults and/or religions painting them as godly beings/saviours of Gotham throughout the years, still do (imagine the colonies from F'ing Demon Bats, only this time the cryptid part of them is actually real)] along with shrines for human sacrifices.

At first they thought the locals sold themselves to a Pagan God in exchange for their safety, that the shrines and "holy grounds" spread throughout the city were for blood and human sacrifices and the creatures were feeding on the souls of their followers or something.

Turns out, that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes there were bloody sacrifices at the shrines, but most of the time those were just grieving kids bringing their dead pets to silence's holy grounds for them to be healed, or taken care of, by the spirit and have their souls at peace. But, again, that was rare, and only occurred at the holy grounds themselves rather than the shrines people attended to daily.

Majority of those shrines were filled with books, art supplies, music boxes with ballerinas and, sometimes, you could even find a few trinkets and computer parts, as well as the occasional plates and plastic boxes filled with home cooked meals, sometimes they even put pots and kettles filled to the brim with savory goods and nice tea. Nobody ever touched the food, not even the poor and desperate, when asked why all the brothers received were looks of horror and hushed whispers about how "The bats don't like thieves" and "They'll stop coming by the shrine, maybe even destroy it if we do that"

Dean didn't like it, neither did Sam, they didn't like how the locals, people who barely even bat an eye when they see a dead body on their way to work, get so scared and terrified as soon as they hear of something that might displease the Bats. They tried asking around, trying to figure out what is it that makes them so scared of their dearly beloved deities, after all, they talk about them like such a wonder, like they're the best thing that ever happened to them. Hell, one of them is named Mercy and was revered for its compassion and understanding of those around them.

They only got their answer when investigating a place called Crime Alley. They locals were all the same, if not even more reserved than their city's counterparts, but there was one person, a young girl who couldn't be older than ten that said she'll be willing to answer their questions in return for some money and stories from their time as hunters. They were reluctant at first, but seeing as they haven't had much of an option, they agreed.

"So, Masey" Dean started

"Missy" she corrected

"Right, sorry, Missy, you said that you could tell us what's up regarding those demons"

"Deities" she said sternly, the man simply nodded "And yes, I can do that, but you'll have to do something for me first"

"And what would that be?"

"You said you were a hunter, right?" He nodded "And you also said you have some money. So I want you to give me two hundred dollars, cash, and a written story containing at least three of your adventures with your partner. You can't use big fonts, lie or omit any details from the story, it needs to be one hundred percent real and legible and needs to be at least fifty pages, understood?"

Dean was confused, confused and worried. Why would this child need a story about them hunting monsters? And why did she need it to be so long and accurate? Was she trying to sell them out to the Bats or something? Why was this so important?

A million questions flooded his head and looking at Sammy, he could tell the feeling was very much mutual.

"Um Missy" it was Sam talking to her this time "Why would you want a story of us hunting like that? We could tell you about our time together on the field, if you want, but why do you need that written so meticulously?"

The little girl shook her head before he even finished speaking "No, no, I need it written"

"How so?"

"For Passion, of course"

"Passion?"

"Yeah, Passion, the component watching over Crime Alley, it loves reading stories but only when they're worth it. It doesn't like when people give them stories only to please it or for it to give them undeserved attention. It needs to be good and interesting, a story about two hunters will definitely do that"

The two hunters met each other's eyes, both their expressions filled with worry, apprehension and suspicion.

"And why all the other rules? Why does have to be so long and accurate?"

The girl tilted her head, looking at them as though they've said something stupid "Because you're introducing yourself, maybe"

"I can't just tell you guys all there is to know about the Bat without at least one of the components acknowledging you guys and giving me permission to share that information with outsiders"

"And what makes you think it won't just kill us as soon as it realizes what we do for a living?" They might've been desperate, but that doesn't mean they're going to give an essay about their weaknesses and hunting methods to a freaky, probably homicidal spirit on a silver platter

"Because they like people like you, people who put their lives on the line in order to help those around them. Also" she leveled her gaze with Dean's, which was pretty impressive considering she barely reached his hip "Had it wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been able to take two steps inside Crime Alley without having a heart attack, or your head magically disappearing"

The two brothers tensed, the taller's eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings, hands fishing out a weird cellular device, probably an EMF reader or maybe a bottle of holy water, as the shorter failed to keep up his confident facade in front of the (probably) ten year old (because Dean isn't going to be spooked by a kid that hasn't even reached the double digits yet, he's 𝘯𝘰𝘵)

The little girl laughed, completely ignoring their - very justified!!! - panic "Relax, would ya? Passion doesn't kill people unless they feel like it's necessary"

They didn't seem to be very relaxed, she didn't care, she just told them to meet her again on the border of Crime Alley and its neighbor city in a week, before leaving.

Two hours later, Carrie Kelley was skipping into the main living room of Wayne Manor, where several of her siblings played video games and with their father reading the newspaper on the side, the perfect illusion of a normal, happy, completely human family.

She walked up to Bruce, sitting on the arm of his sofa as the last of her illusion magic slipped away

"Did you do it?"

"I offered them the deal, still not sure if they'll end up actually agreeing to it"

"Mn. You did well"

The young teen preened under the praise, thanking her father before going off to boast and scheme with the rest of her siblings, they were up planning contingencies and devising plans until Sundown.

[catlady48]

"He’s also probably wondering what Odin would do to him if he found out that he let the Jotnar into the vaults; surely not listen or believe he did it for the good of Asgard."

I haven't seen it mentioned much, but I think a major reason (of course not the only one) for his plans to kill the Jotnar is the fact that he's afraid that the Asgardians will find out that he, a Jotun, let the Jotnar into the vault. That they'll think he decided to betray them to the Jotnar, his birthpeople, and intended to help the Jotnar wage war against Asgard. Considering how quickly certain people in Asgard tend to jump to conclusions, he may think this likely. And his fear of what they will do to him is fuel for his plan to kill the "monsters". It will ensure that they can't accuse him of not being on the side of the Jotnar. It makes him extra desperate and fuels his mental breakdown.

Of course, he's also afraid of being killed simply for being a Jotun and he also wants to prove himself Asgardian for other reasons. But still, I think this isn't talked about often enough.

[forthegothicheroine]

I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

[whywoulditho]

the thing about that one scene where caitlyn and vi fight is that caitlyn doesn't meet vi's eye the entire time. go back and watch that scene again, look closely at their body language. "you stopped me." caitlyn says, her eyes are shut tightly, she hears vi's gauntlets drop on the floor. "i had the shot." her voice is confused and desperate, she's facing the wall. "that was a kid. what if you missed?" vi asks in equal confusion. cait turns to her in fervor, "i wasn't going to miss," her voice is louder, firmer, she's ready to face vi— except she isn't, because even though she turned her way, she's still just looking at the ground. her anger is a façade even to herself. she wants so badly to pretend she wants blood. "i keep telling myself you're different but you're not." she says to vi —with as much poison in her voice as she can muster— but she's still avoiding her gaze. so afraid of her resolve breaking at the sight of her eyes. cait's pupils tremble as she says this, as if looking for something to fix her gaze on, just so she doesn't have to face vi. she steps past vi when she can't find anything in the empty hall, she turns back ever so slightly to say "it's her blood in your veins." the words feel wrong in her mouth as she utters them, she ignores it, she has to prove to herself that she's brave enough, that she can push through. but she still can't look at vi in the goddamn eye. she tries to get away, reaching for the ladder. flight, she's bitterly aware. but vi catches her by the arm and she's stopped in her tracks, grabbing the steel of the ladder with one hand, the other clutching to her gun like a lifeline. "then why are you the one acting like her?" vi yells. her. Jinx is haunting their every thought like a curse. the murderer of her mother. sister of her love. she wants to hate her so badly. she hates her, she has to. vi's grab of her arm loosens as caitlyn struggles to catch her breath. she can't look back, she can't meet her eye, but she can feel vi's unwavering gaze on her neck. she's so open, so willing to give her everything she's scared to admit she wants. vi is leaning closer, tilting her head to see cait where her face is covered behind her hair. cait's breaths start to even for a moment, and vi's eyes relax and soften. that's when caitlyn draws her arm out and hits vi in the stomach with the back of her gun. vi grunts, topples over so easily. she hadn't seen it coming. cait finally looks back and her face is confused, surprised, when did vi start lowering her guard down so much around her? why did she? she turns her back and climbs the ladder as vi's wails echo in the room. all those pained sobs can't be from the hit, she knows it would take so much more than that to break her. but she still can't bring herself to look back. vi is the strongest person she's ever known, and she's crying like a child as caitlyn leaves her behind.

[jellyfishsthings]

Hold Your Breath My Darling

WARNINGS: angst, like super angst, lovesick and whipped Spencer, earlier seasons Spencer, Hotch trained reader, Ex spy, fem reader, dying (or coming close to it), panic attacks, typical criminal minds violence... there will be a part two soon, please let my know if I am missing anything else

The BAU team arrived at the small town of Crescent Hills, ready to investigate a series of gruesome murders. The victims all shared similar physical characteristics. The team quickly realized that the killer was targeting women who looked exactly like you, the same hair, the same eyes and somehow personality, which had to be the scarriwst part of them all.

As the team discussed their next move, Spencer couldn't help but stare at her. She was the spitting image of the victims, but she seemed unfazed by the situation. In fact, she suggested that she pose as bait in order to catch the killer. She was the agent her mentor made her, because Hotch would have done the same in a heartbeat. Yet as Hotch looked at the young woman standing at his side, standing tall and holding her head high with pride and bravery, wearing a mask of calmness hiding her whirlwind of emotions with quite the efficiency.

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the thought of his best friend putting herself in danger. His hands shook with dread and anxiety and his mind raced to a million directions as his heart seemed to weight a few tons more than usual. He was so confused. He had always seen her as a friend, but in that moment, he couldn't deny the intense feelings he had for her. Yes he had always cared for her, and wouldn't wish any harm in her way, but at this moment he desperately wished to have been the genius he claimed to be, to find a way out of this, to solve this without any one getting hurt, to keep her safe and alive and well next to him, hoping she felt even a sliver of the intesity of his emotions. He knew he couldn't let her go through with this plan. He had to act quickly, not caring if he embarrassed himself in the process.

"You can't do this, it's too dangerous," Spencer pleaded with the her, his eyes shining with unshead tears as he saw her walking in her hotel room, trying to make herself more appealing for the UnSub.

"I can handle myself, Spencer," she replied confidently."Do not worry. I have been trained from the best." She whispered as she lightly hugged him and kissed his cheeks and the storm raging inside of him seemed to calm down for a few short seconds.

But Spencer couldn't shake off the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He had been so focused on his work and solving the case that he hadn't even realized his true feelings for her until now. As the team set up a plan, Spencer couldn't help but keep a close eye on the Reader. He couldn't let her out of his sight. But as she put herself in harm's way, Spencer's heart was in his throat

The warehouse was quiet, the ominous shadows twisting around the corners like specters waiting to strike and fear started clawing its way to her heart. Derek Morgan’s voice echoed in her mind; “You’re one of us, kiddo. Trust your instincts.” But in this moment, trust felt like an anchor dragging her deeper into despair.

She was second guessing herself now as well as her abilities. Maybe she had made a mistake. She had volunteered without hesitation, knowing the stakes were high. A string of brutal murders had terrorized several towns, and the Behavioral Analysis Unit needed to understand what made this killer tick. But she had never expected that the very thing she sought to uncover would entrap her instead.

As she stepped deeper into the warehouse, darkness enveloped her like a suffocating blanket. The cold was biting, but the fear coursed through her veins like ice. She had set off the sound of a chilling recording, a mocking lure that had been crafted specifically for the UnSub. The air was alive with tension, every creak of the old metal structure amplifying her dread.

“Just breathe,” she murmured to herself, but her heart raced faster with every passing second. Somehow, despite the adrenaline's flow, she felt an unsettling calm, as if her body was preparing for something inevitable.

She thought of the team back at the BAU. Hotch would be analyzing their data, Emily and Derek keeping their wits about them, and as she closed her eyes, she could almost hear Spencer Reid’s gentle voice. He was always a soothing presence, with his deep well of knowledge and quirky sense of humor.

“Remember when I tried to teach you how to play chess?” he whispered in her mind, a memory flooding back. They had been at a coffee shop breaking down a case when she had confided that she hadn’t learned the game as a child. With a persistent twinkle in his eye, he taught her the basics, patiently explaining the rules as she fumbled through the moves. They laughed when she mistakenly thought pawns could move diagonally anytime.

In this dark warehouse, she recalled how he had once said, “You have to think several moves ahead. In chess, just as in life.” She held onto that wisdom now, fighting to stifle her panic.

The quiet was shattered by footsteps echoing through the maze of crates and rusted metal. She steeled herself, adrenaline rushing through her as the UnSub emerged from the shadows. He was a tall figure, cloaked in darkness, his face obscured by a mask that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

She fought the surge of terror that threatened to overwhelm her. How? How had he been expecting her? She was a trained spy for the love of God, before joining the BAU, had she rusted her abilities this quickly? It had only been five years. Five wonderful, free years.

She couldn’t falter. In her mind, she anchored herself to another memory: a sunny afternoon with Reid. They had shared ice cream on a picnic blanket, debating the best flavors like children. He had quipped that pistachio was underappreciated, while she insisted on the classic chocolate chip cookie dough.

“You’re practically a gourmet, aren’t you?” she teased, and his laugh had brightened that day, sunlight dancing in his eyes.

But now, there were no sunny picnics; shadows danced along the walls as the UnSub advanced towards her. She could see glimmers of rage flickering in his eyes, an intensity that struck fear into her heart.

“Let’s see just how strong you are,” he hissed, gripping her arms in a vice-like hold. She gasped as pain shot through her, but even as she winced, she summoned the memory of Reid, who had taught her the importance of mindfulness in the face of fear.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, fueling her resolve with every ounce of anger she could muster.

But he laughed, a cruel sound that sent tremors of dread through her. The sharpness of reality cut through her feelings of safety, and she swallowed hard, desperately piecing together scattered memories, trying to fund the best course of action but it was already to late. She felt sluggish and slow, something was wrong.

She tried to find the good memories, to find courage and strength, such as Reid’s infinite patience, his love for obscure trivia, the whimsical way he could make her smile even in the darkest of moments.

“Your game is over,” the UnSub snarled, his breath hot against her skin.

As he began to carry out his twisted intentions, she closed her eyes tightly, conjuring one last memory, one that radiated warmth in the encroaching darkness. The night Reid had confessed his fears of inadequacy, only to find solace in their bond, his fingers grazing hers in comforting reassurance, his eyes reflecting the kind of understanding that only comes from empathy.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, even as fear clawed at her soul. “No matter what happens, I’m not afraid. I will not give you the satisfaction of the perfect murder, trust me it will be a fight to bring me down.”

"Oh, but you have already lost. I think you must be feeling it be now."

Her heart pounded with the realization that she might not escape. But in those harrowing moments, as she fought against the loop of pain and despair, she anchored herself in the love and camaraderie of her team—every shared laugh, every overcoming of hardship. No matter what happened, they would carry her spirit forward.

In those last flickers of consciousness, she thought of Spencer, his brilliance, his laugh, and the unyielding strength of their bond. She hoped he would forgive her for failing to bring him the answers they so desperately needed, all while holding onto the belief that even the darkest of nights must give way to dawn.

With that thought, she embraced the memories that would never fade, hoping they would echo in the hearts of those she loved, a reminder that even in their darkest hours, they could find light.

Then the darkness came.

The cold grip of fear tightened around Spencer Reid's heart as he stood in the dimly lit acting conference room of the BAU, a small desk office of the local police station. The air was thick with tension and the weight of impending decisions that could alter their fates. He paced the floor anxiously, running a hand through his tousled hair while his mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

“Guys, we can’t go through with this,” he implored, turning to face his team, his voice a tremor of desperation. “The unsub is more unpredictable than we anticipated, and we can’t risk her life. What if—”

“It’s not just about her,” Derek Morgan countered, crossing his arms. “This mission aims to take down a dangerous criminal. We need to act fast before he slips through our fingers again.”

“But what if he targets her, Morgan?” Spencer’s voice escalated, echoing in the room. “I've analyzed his patterns. If she’s involved, she’s at extreme risk. We can’t afford to lose her!”

Emily Prentiss, caught between the mounting urgency and Reid’s grave expression, glanced at the other agents. “We have to trust our instincts, Spencer, but you know we all understand the risk involved. We can deploy a secondary team to protect her—”

“No!” Reid snapped, panic threading his tone. “You don’t understand. I can’t shake this feeling. What if this is a trap? She shouldn’t be there. We need to stop this. We need to call it off.”

The room fell silent as his pleas hung in the air, but time was running out, and the team had a job to do. With reluctant determination, they gathered their gear and left the conference room, unknowingly walking into the lion’s den.

Spencer’s heart raced as he followed them, a whirlwind of dread washing over him. They arrived at the location of the suspected meeting and quickly fanned out, but dread settled deeper in his chest as time ticked away.

Minutes felt like hours, and Reid’s worries morphed into a nightmare. Suddenly, over the comms, a shout broke through the chaos, and panic pierced the stillness. “She’s down! She’s down!”

Spencer’s instinct kicked in, but it felt like running through molasses as he pushed past his teammates. His breath quickened dramatically. He reached the scene, and there she was—Her body lay still against the cold asphalt, pale and lifeless.

Everything around him blurred as the sirens wailed in the distance, blending into an agonizing scream that reverberated in his mind. He dropped to his knees beside her, an overwhelming despair crashing down like a tidal wave. “No, no, no…” he chanted, disbelief coursing through him as the realization sank in.

He placed his hands on her chest, feeling the emptiness where her spirit should have been. “Stay with me. Please,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he started CPR. Each pump felt futile, desperation fueling his actions—A metronome to the rhythm of her fading heartbeat.

“Come on, please! Breathe, breathe!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he pressed harder, not willing to accept the undeniable truth standing stark against reality—a truth that seemed to throng his senses.

Suddenly, strong hands pulled him backward. “Spencer, let the medics handle this,” a voice shouted through the fog of his anguish. It was Morgan, trying to wrestle him back to reality.

“No! I can’t! I won’t let her go!” Reid screamed, thrashing against the hold, fighting against the gravity of grief. But the world around him was collapsing, everything turning hazy, the wail of the sirens growing louder, drowning him in despair.

“Spencer!” Morgan’s voice cut through the fog, but it felt distant, as if coming from underwater. He was pulled away from the scene, from her cold body that lay so still. The agents moved in, the medics began their work, but Reid felt as if a piece of himself was being torn apart, the agonizing reality sinking its teeth deeper into his soul.

He fell to his knees, the weight of his failure crashing into him like a heavy stone, unyielding and unforgiving. Tears streamed down his face as he watched helplessly, the ache in his chest mimicking a gaping wound.

Desperation clawed at him as he realized that no amount of pleading or data could bring her back. And in that moment, the chaos of the world faded away, and all he knew was a profound loss that reverberated through every fiber of his being.

And then the impossible happened. She was still bleeding, covered in deep cuts by a knife that would scar her for life. Yet her chest lifted lightly before falling down.

Once.

Twice.

He was sure he was dreaming of it. His mind playing a trick on him, not being ready to register his life without her existence.

But no.

It was true. She was breathing.

[samcaarter]

so i've been thinking about this for the past 24 hours and i have one (1) thought (sorry for rambling and for hijacking the post, i'd have left this in the tags but there's a picture i wanted to include)

like we know that part (most?) of his journey is accepting that he's more, really accepting it. but right this moment he is terrified. he did kinda fuck up. he can only offer his company and he has no idea if it's what the player wants, he is bracing for the worst because that's all that's ever happened

but i want to mention the other path, the one that leads to his fears being CONFIRMED that what he can freely offer to the player without hurting himself is NOT enough. when the player confirms that they wanted to just have some fun and not deal with his issues and trauma

"yes, i suppose there's not much point to me if i won't have sex. my only talent, i'm fully aware"

he hopes

when he lays it all out in the open he hopes, he wants so desperately to be proven wrong. that everyone and everything that hurt him before and told him he's nothing, he's worthless, he's a tool, a means to an end, an object to be consumed and spat out and discarded, that they were wrong. that it's not true. that he's wrong to have ever believed it (and oh it's so hard not to believe it even if rationally you know it can't be true, it mustn't be true, right?)

that the first person who seems different IS different

and then, with the good path, tav validates his hope. he's not out of the dark woods, not yet, by far, but now he has a lantern and a hand to hold

(and it just all reminded me of this quote i came across here ages ago and can't find again)

How absolutely terrified Astarion looks when he says "... not fall for you."

How he looks like he had given up preemptively when he says "No matter how much I'd like to." because why would you want him after all of this. He fully expects you to walk away and end things. He both came clean about what he did and told you - from his point of view - that he has nothing to offer you. He knows he fucked up very bad, is about to lose the only light in his life, and for the last 200 years fucking up meant immense pain was soon to follow. He's bracing for the blow.

Then you hug him. And you prove him wrong against all odds. He may start counting down the hours until the end later, but for now he gets swept up in it all.

"I know that this... this is nice. :)" said without any charlatan undertones. His voice is relaxed, deeper, calm, happy, relieved, safe.

[cherimoyatea]

hello hi! ik the fandom mostly favors interactions between LIs & MCs/Readers but i was wondering if you have your own ideas between the LADS boys like friendship headcanons between them? how their dynamic works and which would be the best bros with each other or strongest siblings rivalry vibes between them (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

hopefully this is alright to request! 🙏🏻

Hi Annonie!

Thank you for your request! I saw the wonderful @irandial already sharing her thoughts on the same request, and I couldn't agree more with her on the boys! But since you asked I'll also drop some headcanons 🤭

I've always imagined what their life would be like if they happened to share a house and how their dynamics would play out, so I'll set the scenario based on your request.

Remember, these are headcanons and just for fun 🩷

❧ The LaDs Men as Friends - Shared house edition

He's the loudest—always getting on everyone's nerves with his antics and pouty demands. Rafayel will block the bathroom for hours with his extensive baths and beauty routines: Since he's basically a fish on land, he's super cautious about keeping his skin hydrated.

Imagine him opening the bathroom door in a bathrobe, with a face mask on and a bowknot keeping his purple bangs off his forehead, as he yells at the other guys: ''I'm gonna burn y'all in your sleep if ya don't stop knocking on the damn door!!'' Then he slams the door shut, locks it again, and puts his Airpods on full blast, while the others continue to desperately hammer against the bathroom door, needing to use the toilet.

Rafayel pretends to be annoyed by everyone in his household and murmurs''These silly humans...'' while also using his evol and wielding his dagger to protect his friends without hesitation whenever they run into trouble. Though they get on his nerves sometimes, he wouldn't want it any other way.

Xavier is in a constant catfight with Rafayel for always eating his cheesesticks behind his back. In general, he's the one who constantly empties the fridge and eats everyone's snacks and food. Even Zayne can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief, when he finds another empty cookie package in the cabinet—for the third time this week. And its only Tuesday.

Whenever Xavier isn't busy snacking, his friends usually find him either reading a book or napping in the most unusual places around the house, giving them daily heart attacks. Once, Sylus almost spilled his drink when he tripped over Xavier's sleeping form, curled up on the soft, fluffy carpet in the dimly lit hallway. ''Uhh... I'm not quite sure how I ended up sleeping on the floor... it just looked so comfy here and the stairs to the bedroom seemed like too much effort…'' He rubs his neck sheepishly and gets up with a yawn, while Sylus taps his foot impatiently, shaking his head at the silver-blond.

Definitely the ''mom'' of the friend group. He takes care of everyone's well-being while occasionally cracking one of his dry jokes, causing an awkward silence in the room. Surprisingly, nobody feels called out when he scolds his friends for eating too much junk food or staying up too late. ''Rafayel, where are your slippers? The floor is cold—at least wear some socks.'' And the Lemurian? He rolls his eyes and mumbles something under his breath but eventually gets up to grab some socks from his room.

Zayne always has an open ear for his friends. Whenever someone needs to get something off their chest, they approach the Doctor, and he genuinely tries to comfort them. ''Xavier… I don't think Sylus hates you for accidentally poisoning him with your tiramisu. However. Make sure to remember that dishes with raw eggs need to be refrigerated…''

He's the one who would probably get along with everyone, giving off protective big-brother vibes. He mostly watches his friends quietly from the background with an amused smirk, shaking his head at Rafayel causing a scene over someone spilling his paint, Xavier serving a suspicious-looking tiramisu, or Zayne gathering the others laundry from the floor with a frown. ''Doc, are you sure you want to touch that? I remember seeing the fish doing... unholy things with those socks.'' Sylus says with a mischievous grin, earning a dead stare from Rafayel. ''Hold up! I did WHAT?!''

He just loves teasing these idiots.

But Sylus is also the life of the party and always up for a night out with his friends. The guys had a blast at the karaoke bar once when Sylus was drunk enough to wholeheartedly sing Miley Cyrus' Wrecking Ball. Of course, Rafayel recorded the whole show and teased him the next morning while the silver-haired man had the worst hangover ever. ''Listen, Fish... I'm adding a cat to this household if you don't delete that NOW!''

[jmkjournalblog]

"Soulmates" Part 1

Part 2

Pairing:Wednesday Addams x FemVampire! Reader

Summary: The Fem!reader, vampire with a penchant for dark humor and psychopathic tendencies, is sent to Nevermore Academy by her parents following an unpleasant incident involving the murder of a couple of triple students in her previous school. Despite their contrasting personalities, the reader and Wednesday form a complex bond, navigating their differences while facing challenges that threaten to keep them apart.

A/N: This text combines three chapters written at different times, so there might be slight differences in style. Also, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes))

Warnings: Shitty humor

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the picturesque town. It was a quaint, almost idyllic place, with its cobblestone streets and charming old buildings—a far cry from the darkness that lurked within the reader's soul. She stood at the edge of town, a lone figure amidst the bustle of the afternoon crowd. Tall and imposing, with an air of quiet confidence that set her apart from the ordinary townsfolk, she surveyed her surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

The Y/n was not here by choice. No, she had been sent—a pawn in a game she had no desire to play. Her parents, in their infinite wisdom—or perhaps, their utter lack thereof—had deemed it necessary to exile her to Nevermore Academy, a school for misfits and outcasts. It was a punishment disguised as a solution, a way to rid themselves of a daughter whose darkness they could no longer abide.

And so, here she was, alone in a town that reeked of desperation and decay, a stranger in a strange land. It was a bitter irony, she thought, that a creature such as herself—a creature of the night, born to roam the shadows—should find herself so utterly exposed in the harsh light of day. But she was not one to dwell on self-pity, nor was she inclined to mourn the loss of a home she had long outgrown. No, she would embrace this new chapter of her existence with the same ferocity that she embraced life itself.

With a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes, the Y/n turned her gaze towards the looming silhouette of Nevermore Academy, its spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a long-forgotten deity. And as she took her first steps towards her new prison, she couldn't help but wonder what twisted fate awaited her within its hallowed halls.

*Y/n POV*

As I stepped into the imposing entrance hall of Nevermore Academy, I was greeted by the sight of a young girl. She was dressed in the school uniform, her blond hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she approached with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Welcome to Nevermore Academy," she said with a wry smile, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Enid Sinclair. And you must be the new arrival."

I nodded, returning her handshake. Enid's warmth and charm were a welcome contrast to the oppressive atmosphere that hung me like a shroud.

"Nice to meet you," I replied with a forced smile. There's no point in being rude, this school is my last resort, and it's better to try to be nicer to people. "I must admit, I wasn't sure if anyone would meet me."

" I always give a tour of the school to new students, especially since you will be my roommate." A smile spread across her face. God, I wish I could be as carefree "It's going to be so much fun, you, me and Wednesday are three new best friends".

Three best friends? Well, that's one way to look at it—a trio of misfits ready to conquer the world, or at least survive sharing a room.

"Wow, lucky me," I muttered inwardly, plastering on a grin that probably looked more like a grimace. "I've always wanted to be part of a trio. How did you know?" 

I forced another polite smile, masking my inner cynicism with practiced ease. "Okay, we can't stand here all day. Let's go. "

After walking around all the main areas of the school, Enid and I headed towards our room. The whole time we were walking, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place was definitely going to be interesting. Enid had her own issues, but I'd always been attracted to people who looked at the world with an unhealthy amount of optimism. Talking to her should dilute my morbid thoughts with a touch of sweet idiocy. For being alone with myself again does me no good, though it gives me a lot of pleasure.

“So, roomie, ready to see your new abode?” - Enid said with a smile, her hand resting on the doorknob. With a casual shrug, I followed her into the room.

A huge room greeted us, with beds on both sides. The left side was a riot of colors, what I would call “colorblind worst nightmare” It was a cacophony of hues that defied description. Plush toys adorned one wall. Well at least it is not dakimakura with half-naked characters from anime or furi costumes. On the other side of the room, the atmosphere was stark—black linens on the bed, a desk, and a typewriter. Its practically untouched. It felt more like a museum piece than a living space, devoid of any trace of personality. Enid had mentioned that the other girl had only recently moved in…

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY ROOM ROOM?” – Enid asked in irritation.

Her voice startling me out of my thoughts. Distractedly looking around the room, I completely missed the girl who was tearing off colored stickers from the right half of the huge window. It must be Wednesday.

“Dividing our room equally,” replied Wednesday, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked the last of the colored paper to Enid's side for emphasis. "It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side." She finished in a calm tone, as she returned to the desk at her side of the room.

God, I love drama.

“I...” I could literally see Enid's ears steaming right now.

“Silence would be appreciated.” Wednesday spoke as she quickly cut her roommate off. "This is my writing time."

I like this school already.

“Your writing time ? ” Enid asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wednesday rolled up her sleeves as she situated herself in front of her typewriter. “I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same your vlog might be coherent.” she slides the carriage of the typewriter to the side as she continued, “I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation.”

She read serial killer diaries? One point to the goth girl.

Enid clenched her fists “I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love.”

“Your followers are clearly imbeciles.” Wednesday stood up from her desk as she moved infront of Enid. “They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures.”

“Uh, you mean emoji's?” a small smile appears on Enid face “It's how people express their feelings. I realize that's a foreign concept to you.”

“When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole.” She continues “By the way, there are two D's in Addams." she moved back over to her desk. “If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly.”

“Ahem”- as much as I'd love for this delightful show to continue, I can't just stand there like an idiot with things to do. I could certainly settle down nicely on my suitcase to brew some coffee and continue watching this wonderful drama, but I think sooner or later they'll notice me.

“Oh, sorry about that please, I'm just not used to this attitude. Wednesday, meet Y/n. She's going to live with us too.”

“That's okay, Enid, you can continue this lovely conversation, very intriguing actually. All I need to do is put my things somewhere and ideally lie down myself. The long drive and the splendid but somewhat drawn-out tour, has tired me out.”

Wednesday turned to me. “Nice to meet you, now if you'll excuse it’s my writing time,” she said, before turning back to her typewriter. She began methodically tapping the keys of her typewriter.

I smiled to myself, amused by the interaction. These two were definitely something else.

“Ms. Thornhill has decided that your bed will be on Wednesday's side, there's more room and the closet is close by. Bed should be arriving soon, but in the meantime, you can lay out your things, the outer two doors are yours.”

“Got it, okay then, that's what I'll do for now.”

Taking the suitcase in my hands I headed over to the closet, starting to put things away. I've always had a problem with this, not that I don't like it on the contrary, pedantically folding shirt to shirt, pants to pants, has always calmed me down. Things in the closet should look like they're on the counter of a boutique. If something doesn't look right, I can't sleep well.

Enid put on a song. I guess this is another one of God's tests for all the sins I've done. Don't get me wrong, I like music, but on rare occasions. People who play it on a regular basis to soundtrack their daily routine are the real psychopaths.

“Turn it off!” Wednesday gets up from her chair and heads over to Enid.

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the exchange. It was moments like this that made me grateful for immortality. Trying not to attract attention, I peeked out from behind the locker door, amused by the unfolding drama.

“This is your final warning!”

As she got too close Enid raised her hands and let out her rainbow painted nails out a claw. “Don't mess with me. This kitty’s got claws and I’m not afraid to use them.”

Suddenly the door swings open and a woman walks into the room.

“Good evening girls.” She looks around the room throwing a glance first at me and then at Wednesday. “I wanted to make sure that Wednesday and Y/n was settling in...”

She walks to the middle of the room, kicking up mud from her shoes on the wooden floor…. It drives me insane.

“I’m Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived. I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome.”

“She's been smothering us with hospitality, I hope to return the favor. In her sleep”.

Such unconcealed aggression, I like it.

“Enid did a great job of showing and telling me everything, thank her so much, and it's nice to meet you,” I interjected, wanting to move the conversation along.

Ms. Thornhill turned to me, offering a warm smile. “I'm very glad it went well.”

“The only thing I would like to ask about is the bed. I wouldn't really want to sleep on the floor on the first day in such a beautiful place. It would have dampened all the excitement I got out of today.”

“Oh right, the guys were supposed to bring it, but it looks like they're running late. I'll have to find them again and tell them.”

At this rate, I was going to sleep on the floor tonight.

“Ms. Thornhill, why do we need the guys? Why don't you just show me where to get it, and I'll take it from there? I think I'm strong enough to do that,” I replied with a sweet smile.

She looked at me in disbelief. I smiled a little, letting her catch a glimpse of my fangs.

“Ah, okay, I didn't realize right away. Not all vampires who are in this school have abilities such as strength or speed, so...Let's go,” she said, turning around and heading for the door. I followed her, casting a disdainful glance at the dirt left on the floor.

Who even does things like that?

Y/n POV

The walk with Ms. Thornhill was uneventful, except for her curious glances, which I pretended not to notice. She seemed… overly friendly, and her cheery disposition grated against every instinct I had. There was something unsettling in how her smile lingered just a bit too long. Still, I played the obedient new student—sweet smiles, polite nods, not even a hint of fangs. It wasn’t hard to find the storage area, cluttered with dusty furniture and half-forgotten relics from who knows how long ago. With little more than a gesture, I hefted the bedframe onto my shoulder, making it look far easier than it should have been.

As I walked back through the hallways of Nevermore, I couldn’t help but scan the dimly lit corridors and high arched ceilings. This place was dripping with history and secrets—I could practically taste it in the air. I wondered what kind of skeletons were hiding in these closets and whether any of them were literal. The thought amused me enough to crack a smile, which I quickly smothered when I caught sight of the door to our room.

Returning to find Enid attempting to cheerfully hang more decorations—and failing spectacularly in the face of Wednesday’s withering glares—was almost worth the trouble. Almost. I stepped into the room, set down the bedframe with a soft thud, and stretched slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh that earned me a sideways glance from both girls. I raised an eyebrow at Wednesday, who, naturally, looked unimpressed.

“You’re back,” she stated flatly, her attention already returning to the clack of typewriter keys. “I’d begun hoping you’d gotten lost and decided to stay that way.”

I grinned, leaning casually against the wall as I met her icy gaze. “Oh, did you miss me already, Wednesday? I’m touched.” I let my words drip with playful mockery, watching for her reaction.

She didn’t even pause her typing. “I don’t miss nuisances. They have a way of making themselves known whether one wishes it or not.”

“Well, it’s good to know I’ve made an impression,” I replied lightly, crossing my arms. “I do so hate being forgettable.”

There it was—a slight pause in her keystrokes. Barely perceptible, but I saw it. Victory. She resumed typing, but I could see the muscles in her jaw tense, and that alone was worth every ounce of effort. Behind me, Enid let out an exaggerated groan.

“Can you two not flirt for five minutes?” Enid asked, half-exasperated and half-amused as she tossed another garish pillow onto her bed.

“Flirting?” I said innocently, a hand coming to my chest. “Enid, I think you’ve misunderstood me. I was simply trying to have a civil conversation.”

“Your idea of civil conversation seems to involve needling people until they bleed,” Wednesday remarked coolly, finally glancing my way. “I’m sure you’re quite proud of yourself.”

“Oh, very,” I said, flashing a grin that showed just the hint of fang. “But I only needle people who are interesting. Take that as a compliment.”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a spark in her dark eyes. A dangerous, calculating spark. “Compliments from you hold about as much value as a counterfeit coin. Useless and possibly diseased.”

I tilted my head, letting my smile widen. “And yet you’ve pocketed it anyway.”

“Enough!” Enid interjected, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m already regretting my decision to be roommates with either of you.”

“I thought we were best friends, Enid?” I teased, giving her a mock-wounded look. She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

As the brief silence fell, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter, the clack of the keys resuming with renewed vigor. I moved to finish setting up my space, feeling her presence keenly even as she pretended, I didn’t exist. But I knew better. She’d noticed me, whether she liked it or not. And I intended to keep it that way.

I focused on arranging the few belongings I had, keeping one eye on my two roommates. Enid flitted around, determined to keep the atmosphere upbeat despite the thickening tension, while Wednesday remained stoic, her fingers tapping out words with relentless precision. The mechanical clatter of the typewriter filled the room, a fitting soundtrack to our peculiar dynamic.

As I stowed the last of my clothes, I moved to the shared windowsill. Half of it, Wednesday’s half, was bare and colorless, just like the rest of her side. I dragged a finger across the divider she’d drawn—black tape down the middle, stark and deliberate. When she’d divided the room, she hadn’t left any margin for negotiation. That was fine. I wasn’t one to negotiate either.

“Did you choose the décor yourself?” I asked, tone light but teasing. “It really says a lot about you.”

The typewriter stopped mid-sentence, and her head turned, her expression a mask of cold detachment. “If by ‘a lot’ you mean ‘nothing,’ then you are correct. My surroundings reflect my disregard for frivolity.”

I leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed, giving her a slow once-over. “Yes, I see that. Stark, somber, a touch of morbidity… What’s next, Wednesday? Iron bars over your window? A ‘keep out’ sign? Or is this already your version of a welcome mat?”

“Those who need signs to warn them of danger are already too foolish to avoid it,” she retorted, her voice like ice. She didn’t look away, and I felt the weight of her attention settle on me like a dare.

“Danger? That sounds intriguing.” I stepped closer, deliberately closing the space between us. “But I’d rather find out for myself than take your word for it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she’d lash out. Instead, she simply pushed her chair back with a quiet scrape and stood. “Are you always this insufferable?” she asked, stepping closer herself. We were nearly face-to-face now, her glare as sharp as a blade.

“Only when I’m provoked,” I said, my voice softening, the challenge in it unmistakable. “Or intrigued.”

For a heartbeat, I thought she might reach for one of her knives. It wouldn’t have surprised me. But then she stepped back, and the flicker of emotion was gone, replaced by a cold, composed exterior. “Intrigue is a fleeting distraction. You’ll tire of it soon enough.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” I murmured, watching her turn her back to me and return to her typewriter. I had to give it to her; she was disciplined. She’d withdrawn from the confrontation as if it hadn’t fazed her, as if the moment hadn’t happened. But it had.

Enid broke the silence, plopping down onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. “Why can’t we all just get along? Isn’t this supposed to be like… the beginning of a beautiful friendship?”

“I don’t recall asking for friendship,” Wednesday replied without looking up.

“And I don’t recall rejecting it,” I added with a smirk, earning a scoff from Wednesday.

“See?” Enid grinned, ever the optimist. “Progress! I’m telling you, we’re going to be the best trio ever. Just give it time.”

“Optimism is a fool’s currency,” Wednesday stated, resuming her typing. “It’s usually spent too freely and leaves the owner penniless.”

“Good thing I have plenty to spare,” Enid shot back, unfazed. She turned to me. “Y/n, you’ll see. She’s all doom and gloom now, but she’ll warm up eventually.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I said, letting the implication linger. “Though I have to admit, I like her just the way she is.”

Wednesday’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second, and my grin widened. There it was again—the tell that she was paying attention, even if she pretended otherwise.

Enid reached for her phone, likely ready to drown out the tension with music or social media, but she paused, her expression curious. “So, Y/n… what brought you to Nevermore?”

“Exile,” I said simply, my voice taking on a darker edge. “I’m here because my family thought it would be safer to have me… away.”

Enid blinked, unsure whether I was joking. “Safer for who?”

“Exactly.” I allowed a flicker of my fangs to show, then shrugged. “But this place isn’t so bad. It might even grow on me.”

“It’s full of disappointments,” Wednesday said coolly, not missing a beat. “Don’t let the shadows fool you.”

“Disappointments keep things interesting,” I replied, stepping back toward my side of the room. “And I’ve always been drawn to interesting things.”

I felt her eyes on me even after she turned back to her writing. This was going to be fun. Dangerous, maybe—but undeniably fun.

The next morning, the air was crisp, and a thin layer of fog crept around the gothic towers of Nevermore Academy. I found myself sitting on the edge of my freshly delivered bed, lacing up my boots. The rest of the room was quiet, but I could feel a watchful presence. Turning slightly, I caught Wednesday’s reflection in the mirror; she was silently observing me while pretending to prepare her things. Her eyes were intense as ever, like she was sizing me up, waiting for me to make the first move. It amused me, and I made no effort to hide my grin.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I teased, breaking the tension in the room.

She blinked, a slow, deliberate motion that barely disguised her disdain. “Please spare me your nauseating pleasantries.”

“Why, Wednesday, it almost sounds like you didn’t sleep well.” I stood, stretching. “I’d say I’m hurt by that, but I do recall you typing well into the night. Plotting murder, perhaps?”

“If I were plotting murder, you wouldn’t have woken up,” she replied with a deadpan expression.

I laughed softly, loving how quick she was. “Noted. I’ll try to be more deserving of your mercy.” I leaned closer as I passed her on the way to the door. “For now.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she muttered, though there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she was far from indifferent. Oh, this was definitely going to be an interesting place.

The hallway was bustling with other students, each an oddity in their own right—shapeshifters, psychics, sirens, and more. I navigated the throng with ease, catching glimpses of curious eyes that lingered just a moment too long. Whispers followed me. New arrivals always attracted attention, and I wasn’t exactly the type to blend in.

“Y/n!” Enid’s cheery voice pierced the noise, and she bounded over like a hyperactive puppy, practically glowing with excitement. “How did you sleep? Oh! You’re going to love breakfast here—it’s the best part of the day!”

“I’m surprised you managed to sleep at all with the ambiance,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I half-expected bats to swoop down from the rafters.

“Oh, they’ve tried.” She shrugged with a wide smile. “But seriously, come on! The sausages are to die for.”

I followed her, letting Enid’s chatter wash over me. She was like a rainbow in this dreary place, and, strangely, I found her optimism a welcome contrast. Wednesday walked a few steps behind us, silent and brooding as ever. It was almost comforting.

The cafeteria was a storm of voices, laughter, and clinking trays. Enid led me through the throng of students, her energy a stark contrast to the brooding architecture of Nevermore. We found a spot at a small table near one of the tall, stained-glass windows. As I settled in, a presence made itself known—a girl with sleek black hair, crimson-tinted sunglasses, and a confident air that turned heads without effort. She walked up, holding her tray like she owned the place.

“Mind if I join?” she asked, but it was rhetorical. She was already sitting down, her eyes on me.

Enid perked up. “Oh! Y/n, this is Yoko Tanaka. Yoko, meet Y/n. She’s new.”

“Yoko,” I repeated, my gaze trailing over her with casual interest. I extended a hand, playing along. “Nice to meet you.”

Her grip was cool, steady. She didn’t let go right away, and her lips curled into a smile. “The pleasure’s all mine. So, Enid’s newest roommate, huh? Welcome to the madhouse.”

I returned her smile, undeterred by the playful challenge in her tone. “Thanks. From what I’ve seen, I’m going to fit right in.”

“Really?” Yoko’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. “It takes a lot to fit in here. But something tells me you’ll manage.” She tilted her head slightly. “You’re not... ordinary, are you?”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I might,” she replied, the light catching the edge of her sunglasses. “Most newcomers are easy to read. But you? You’re a little... more.”

Wednesday, who had been quietly picking at her food, suddenly spoke up. “If you two are done exchanging veiled flirtations, there are more important matters at hand.”

I turned my gaze to her, a smirk playing on my lips. “You know, Wednesday, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“Jealousy is a pointless emotion,” she said flatly, though her eyes seemed to darken. “I simply despise wasted time.”

“Oh, so you’d rather spend your time... constructively?” I asked, feigning deep interest. “Writing your next bestseller or analyzing the cafeteria’s murder statistics?”

She set her fork down with deliberate precision. “Both. I find productivity in all things. Unlike some people who waste their breath on hollow banter.”

“See?” I leaned forward conspiratorially, turning to Yoko. “This is what I get for trying to lighten the mood.”

Yoko laughed, a rich, throaty sound that drew a few glances. “You two are something. But don’t worry—I enjoy the kind of banter that makes the daylight hours less boring.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, deciding to prod a little. “To liven things up for me?”

She pushed her sunglasses up, revealing striking eyes that glimmered with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure you out. Vampires don’t often get surprises, you know.”

“Vampires?” I arched an eyebrow, pretending not to know. “Is that what we’re calling ourselves these days?”

Enid jumped in with a cheerful clap of her hands. “Y/n’s also a vampire, Yoko! You two should totally hang out. Maybe you can teach her the ropes!”

Yoko’s smile widened, showing a hint of fang. “Oh, I’d be delighted. As long as she doesn’t get scared too easily.”

I matched her smile, unflinching. “Scared? That’s not really my thing.”

“Good.” Yoko’s voice dropped, her gaze sharpening. “Because there are plenty of things in Nevermore that will test your limits. I’d hate for you to miss out.”

Before I could respond, Wednesday stood up abruptly, gathering her tray. “This conversation has officially crossed into drivel. Some of us have standards.”

“Leaving already?” I asked, enjoying the way her expression never wavered.

“Unlike you, I have productive tasks awaiting me.” She paused, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Try not to lower the collective intelligence of the room while I’m gone.”

I grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

She left without another word, and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a hint of amusement hidden beneath her icy exterior. Yoko watched her go, then turned back to me, a knowing look on her face. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Good,” I replied. “I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”

[fairytsuk1]

Fr thinking ab getting hella teased by alex 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

alex teasing you <3

alex and you are too busy being enveloped in each other to care about anything else on this soft, slow night. his hand glides up your outer thigh and plants itself right on your plush ass. alex's bulge rub against your clothed pussy when he tugs you closer by the waist; you mewl against his lips for more.

ducking away during the kiss to let out a giggle while shyly smiling at your wanting gaze, "you know you're spoiled, right?"

your bottom lip is plump as it sticks out in a playful pout. obviously you were spoiled! with alex as your boyfriend, with his card easily accessible, with his dick hard and leaking; you were almost more than spoiled. you were a princess.

"no, i'm not."

"yeah, you are! you can't handle if i even tease you a little," your period of silence gives him room to bite back first and tilt your hips with his strong hands after. "am i right?"

"no, you´re not! i can handle it, tease me all you want."

you challenged his authority without really absorbing the fact that you had already lost the minute you gave in to alex´s whims. you stood in your bra and panties before alex--manspreading on the edge of the bed. you were really starting to regret your choice of words.

"alex—"

"hey, you said to tease you all you want. that's what i'm doing! do a little twirl for me, baby."

your face is flushed and burns as you swivel on your feet. his power play is clear as he sits fully clothed while you expose more and more of your seductive body to him. he sees your desperation in the way your legs cross and your thighs squeeze together.

"sit on my lap," alex hums lazily with a knowing smirk.

you're instantly moving to crawl into your favorite seat; rolling your hips against him with a relieved and aching sigh. he stops you with a firm grip that leaves your jaw dropping in protest. alex tuts and effectively silences you with a mere sound.

he rewards you with a handsy kiss, one hand tugging you so close that you might fuse into him and become one. he's so greedy in the way his palms keep skirting down to grab handfuls of your cheeks. a loud smack mixes with your boyfriend's light laughter, which draws a keening gasp from you.

"alex!"

"what? was that too hard?"

he checks in with a low tone, brown eyes searching yours and only finding your horniness instead. it clearly didn't hurt at all, and based on how your soaked pussy grinds against his dick with even more fervor, you clearly wanted more. a nimble finger drags against the skin of your outer thigh, stopping at your knee before the pendulum dips the other way, and he's running a hand up your thigh to grope your butt. your moan is soft and seeking forgiveness, "please, alex. just touch me."

"touch you... where?"

"you know what i mean," and you're such a brat as you say it. like a direct command. "i'm so wet for you, just c'mon!"

"i'm just not getting it," and he smiles in your face before a sneaky hand comes to grab at your chest. "you mean, here?"

his fingers rub at your pebbling nipples as he peers at you with a curious look. he asks you to clarify again while tugging at your chest and you let out a defeated wail, "alex, please, i-i want you. you know that's not what i meant...!"

shoving his face into your chest and moaning was typical. you suck air in between your teeth while your back forms a most beautiful curve into alex's chest.

"fine, you spoiled brat," it's muffled as he plants a hickey on the column between your tits. "i'll give you what you want."

[the-blackbird-roleplays]

"... Nines, get Ivy back up with us. The chamber kept her protected, but I can't imagine she'd be in good shape for an android. Our research indicated it was intended for humans... I can't imagine what it would do to an android. Until she's at least in... Whatever you have for a medical facility and stabilized, you are not to leave her side. Am I understood?"

He... Ignored her question about the golden power of the goddesses, unsure himself why they'd chosen him to carry on their power. Either way, he had questions for this android, this... 'Ivy'.

"Find me as soon as she wakes. I will have questions, and I want answers." He turned, eyes seeming... Darkly hopeful. Like he was desperately clutching onto a single string that could give him any chance of finding something to help himself or Zelda make sense of this world.

"A2... I must request another favor. A... Companion of mine... Someone as important to me as humans are to YORhA, is in a desperate state. She needs a power source, but not a modern one. That symbol on my hand, the Triforce, if you find anything with that symbol on it, I request you inform me as soon as possible and by any means safe and necessary."

Of Scanners And Soldiers

New Gerudo Legacy Chapter 2

Closed with @the-blackbird-roleplays

It had been a few days since Dune had been awakened from his thousands of year slumber. Not that he needed too much sleep since then.

The YORhA Units had been doing their best to make the human feel welcome. A bit... Too hard at times. Cooking for him and cleaning. But also offering random favours of the... Adult variety at random moments.

Honestly the Bunker had been as comforting as could be. While not having much animal product on board, they had enough fish to last him a while. And their vegetable selection was minimal, it at least gave him a balanced diet.

Right now he had Unit 2B watching him as he exercised in one of the Bunker's training rooms, right now just set up with a basic track and some weights for him to stay in shape with. The white haired female android just watching on with a neutral look and her ever present blindfold.

2B having been one of the main units set to watch over him and keep him safe.

[aayakashii]

Some people asked me to make a pt.2 of collared with pegging and well. This is not it (⌐■-■) I just like to bully Leo, sorry... have the twink being tortured yet again 🫳 not really femdom content this time around like the 1st part BUT he still suffers (∗´艸`∗)

WARNINGS: this is a part 2 (?) to collared, so read that one first! This is smut and has explicit language, NSFT !!!!!!! Do not engage if it makes you uncomfortable <3

Leo grunted, fist wrapped tightly around his length as he leaned against the wall of his spacious bathroom. His tip was a furious red as he jerked his cock, desperately seeking a release that seemed far away, gritting his teeth at the frustration that washed over his body.

His hand stopped, and he gasped for air, chest heaving up and down and hair sticking to his forehead after exerting himself. He slammed his fist against the wall, furious.

He had been like that for weeks. Unable to relieve himself of his pent-up stress and unable to ignore the desire that kept on pooling in his core.

He had tried everything. Watching porn, using toys, hooking up with some students – but nothing worked. He would get so close, so fucking close but then his orgasm would ruin itself no matter what. It was like something was broken and he didn't know why.

Actually, Leo knew what might have caused it. But he also tried to avoid thinking about it at all costs.

He dry swallowed, throat bobbing up and down, as he waited for his heart rate to slow down and his breathing to even out.

Meanwhile, his mind raced, trying to find anything to think about, only to run away as fast as he could from those memories. He'd conjure up thoughts of old parties, old hookups, bad hangovers and mundane shit that didn’t matter at all, only to escape from unconsciously recollecting that day.

But the ghost of the sensations remained on his skin, on his nerves, on his cock.

His breathing got heavier again and he pushed himself away from the wall of his bathroom.

That was all futile. He needed some fresh air. With some luck, he could find some stupid student to bully and maybe get into a fight and just have someone rip the horny out of him through punches and kicks.

Yeah. That's what he needed.

Instead of following the flawless plan he had hurriedly concocted before leaving, however, Leo found himself in front of the old, beaten down Cathedral. He heard rumors of how it had been another dorm before, but now it only housed the stupid NPC.

Leo cursed under his breath.

Why the fuck did he find himself there? He had no business with you. He didn't want ANYTHING from you.

And yet, his gaze locked onto the only window that was open on that large building, with faint candlelight flickering inside.

You were right there. He knew that. And he fucking hated the way his mouth dried up and his heart picked up speed yet again.

God fucking damn it.

Wasn't your "revenge" something that should have happened only once? (Even though for the first days he kept waiting and waiting, sitting on pins and needles, for you to come back and show him how else you could fuck him).

If it was just that one forsaken moment, then why should he keep on being so fucking frustrated all the time, rubbing his thighs together in a futile attempt to ease the annoyance, all because he can't cum like before?

He groaned as he felt his cock stiffen once again as the memories of your hands roaming all over his body became, finally, inescapable.

Leo stepped out of the paveway and into the trees and bushes, still keeping his eyes locked at your window.

It wouldn't hurt to try and relieve himself right then and there, right? Just that one time. Just to get the edge off and then afterwards he would do anything in his power to erase the memories of that stupid fucking NPC making him feel pleasure that he had never felt before. Even if he had to create mesmer matches that worked only on him, just for that.

He palmed himself through his pants, breath faltering and labored as he felt how painfully hard he had become. All to the thought of you.

He felt pathetic.

And still, he pulled his pants down and leaned against a tree, trying to control the small moans that began spilling from his mouth.

Against his better judgment, however, Leo gave in to his curiosity.

"Haxs." He whispered through his sighs, and his half-lidded eyes immediately widened as he heard the telling sound of your labored breathing and the wet noises of your fingers thrusting deep inside yourself.

Leo's eyes rolled back as a strangled moan caught on his throat as soon as he realized you were masturbating just like he was. His hips jerked forward, hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he bit his other fist in order to muffle the sounds of his mewls.

He fucked his fist at the same pace of your moans, desperately trying to picture you with your legs spread open wide, shoving your fingers deep inside your pussy in order to teach him how he should fuck you – just like you taught him things he wouldn't ever forget the last time.

Leo was too caught up in his fantasies and the sensation of finally – Finally! – being able to quench that awful thirst, that the next sound you made caught him completely off guard.

As you reached your own peak, your mewls and whines grew louder and, in your orgasm, you moaned another ghoul's name.

His hips stuttered and he thrusted one last time, his release gushing out of him in thick ropes before he could even notice. A loud whine ripping out of his throat without restraint.

He panted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes due to the wave of pleasure he so desperately seeked finally washing over him.

But his eyes were sharp, glaring towards the only lit window in the Cathedral.

You fucking moaned someone else's name.

Leo inhaled deeply, trying to keep the confusing swirl of emotions at bay, blinking fast in order to get clear headed quickly.

What the actual fuck.

So you liked someone else? Apparently yes, since you fucking came with someone else's name on your lips.

What was all that happened between you two then? Did you REALLY just want to fuck with him as a punishment?

... Nah, he didn't believe that. Not when he could so clearly remember the way your eyes ran all over his body and how you looked like you would devour him at any given moment.

He would know.

Every single time he closed his eyes, he could still picture you hovering over him, touching him, praising him.

So why the fuck were you touching yourself to the thought of some other fucking ghoul?

Why not him? Why weren't you thinking of him while you masturbated, when he could only cum to the thought and sounds of you after you completely ruined him?

Were you really not as affected by all that as he was? Was he the only stupid moron that really couldn't even jack off properly if he didn't have you around somehow?

Leo bit his lip, brows furrowing as he felt his chest tightening. He haphazardly wiped his hands on the grass below him, and buttoned his pants.

Was this the actual punishment you were talking about?

Leo felt his throat close painfully and the back of his eyes sting as furious tears threatened to pool on his eyes.

He stumbled on his way back towards Vagastrom, confused despite the clarity brought by his orgasm, and, much to his dismay, feeling a type of hurt deep inside his chest that he had always thought was pathetic.

Leo felt discarded, like trash, for the first time in his life.

Kudos to you for flipping the script on him so perfectly without even trying.

But not to worry. When it came to cruelty and breaking hearts, he would always get first place.

He just had to think.

[multific]

A Husband's Duties

Marcus Acacius x Reader

Summary: After a small injury, you decide it is better to not burden your husband, and hide it from him. But of course, when he finds out and he is less than impressed. 

As you prepare dinner in the warm glow of the kitchen, a sudden surge of pain shoots through your body. 

In an instant, you feel a sharp pain in your side, causing you to wince and clutch at the source of the discomfort. 

As you try to shake off the pain, you can't help but worry about how Marcus will react when he comes home and sees what you've been hiding.

The minutes tick by slowly, each second feeling like an eternity as you desperately try to compose yourself. 

You know that Marcus will be upset if he finds out you've been injured and kept it from him. But deep down, you also know that you were only trying to protect him, to spare him from unnecessary worry.

Finally, the sound of the front door opening echoes through your home, signalling Marcus's return. Your heart races as you continue to work in the kitchen, your movements becoming more strained with every passing second. 

You can hear his footsteps approaching, growing louder with each step.

"My Love, I'm home," Marcus calls out, his voice filled with a mix of fatigue and excitement. 

But as soon as he catches sight of you, his eyes narrow, and concern replaces the joy on his face.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice tinged with anger, his eyes fixed on the pained expression etched across your face. 

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to explain yourself.

"I... I didn't want to worry you," you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought I could handle it on my own."

Marcus' anger softens, replaced by a mixture of worry and frustration. He crosses the room in a few strides, gently taking your hand in his. 

"I appreciate your efforts, My Love, but you should never have to face something like this alone. Tell me please, what happened?" he says, his voice filled with a tenderness that reassures you.

You let out a long sigh.

"I fell. I took the wrong step and fell up the stairs. I hurt my side when I fell on the stone steps."

He carefully tends to your injury, his touch gentle and comforting. As he wraps a bandage around your side, you can feel his relentless support, his love flowing through every action.

"My Love, I might just have to follow you everyone to make sure you are safe and sound."

"I do not wish to keep you from your duties."

"Being your husband is my greatest one." he said and you smiled at him.

For the next couple of days, Marcus becomes your rock, taking care of you with such love and care. 

He cooks, cleans, and ensures that you have everything you need to heal. But more than that, he listens to your fears and worries, offering a steady hand to lean on during your recovery.

Through it all, you learn the importance of openness and trust in a relationship. 

You realize that keeping secrets, even with good intentions, can only lead to misunderstandings and unnecessary distress. 

Marcus's anger reflected his concern for your well-being, a reminder that the strength of your bond lies in open and honest communication.

As you heal, you grow closer and closer, cherishing the deep love between you. 

In the end, your injury becomes a trigger for strengthening your relationship, reminding both of you of the power of compassion and teamwork in overcoming any challenge that comes your way.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

hey you’re really good at explaining viddy games. what’s the full story behind Amanda the adventurer bc it looks really cool but I doubt I’ll ever be able to play

Well first off if this is just based on "can't play game" and not on triggers/disabilities, I would recommend watching CoryxKenshin's playthrough of the first game, and there's plenty of playthroughs of the second, I just haven't picked a fav yet.

But otherwise, here you go:

I'm telling this in two sections: The Story As Told, which details lore as you learn it, and the Summarized, which just spells out everything as simple as possible.

Story As Told

The game starts in the year 2023 with you as the character of Riley Park– gender is left ambiguous, but in the second game Amanda uses they/them to refer to you, so we're probably enby. Our Aunt Kate, a librarian, has recently died, and left us a note that says we not only get her house, but she has something very important in the attic for us to check out, though she's hesitant about actually giving it to us. She tells us to watch some VHS tapes in the attic, but warns us that there's no going back once you do.

In the attic, we play VHS tapes of Amanda the Adventurer, a TV series from the early 2000s starring Amanda and Wooly, an energetic little girl and her more cautious sheep sidekick. However, there are two very suspicious things that immediately pop out: one, viewers can actually interact with the tapes, and our answers to Amanda's questions change how she reacts. Two, Amanda is saying some very eerie things that don't seem good for a kids' show, such as "It's good to be brave [and use knives without supervision] when you're alone!" and "I'm not sure where [my parents] are now."

The third suspicious thing is that after watching the first tape, the attic around you changes; suddenly, a toy oven appears on the table behind you, and when you mimic what Amanda did in the first tape to make an apple pie, you find a second tape. This sort of puzzle-solving is the main gameplay; the tapes change the world around you, and you mess with that world in order to get the next tapes.

Exploring the attic, you can find a newspaper clipping saying that the creator of Amanda the Adventurer was a man named Sam Colton, who had his daughter, Rebecca, star in a live-action pilot version. We also see a note from a girl named Joanne, saying that two years prior, her brother Jordan got addicted to watching Amanda, and then he disappeared without a trace. Now that her parents are dead, she has taken over investigating, and that she believes Kate's paranormal investigations could help.

In playing the tapes, Amanda gets more and more irritable and dark, often making jokes about death or disassociating when she's not snapping at you or Wooly. Wooly is desperately playing damage control, trying to guide Amanda to more child-friendly activities. At one point, Amanda tries to mail cookies to Kate, and Wooly tries to stop her; upon replaying the tape, Amanda is aware that something bad has happened to Kate, and Wooly tries to rewrite the tape so that she's sending him a gift instead. Both of them are also terrified of the Butcher, a stick figure with googly eyes who runs a butcher shop in their town. When you have to go there, Amanda pleads for you to not send her there, and asks, "Why can't I stop it?"

The first ending comes when you play a tape titled "Everything Rots." Amanda explores several things that are rotting, and asks you if everything rots; this is the famous line you might've seen around. No matter what you answer, the tape ends, and a giant Monster emerges from the attic trapdoor, before attacking and killing you. This Monster has the same afro-buns as Amanda, so we'll call it the Amanda-Monster. However, information you got in this ending will help you in future playthroughs. As well as this, doing "secret" activities (such as following Wooly's hints and making a peach pie instead of an apple one) will net you Secret Tapes, which you need to collect to get the true ending.

Here is the information gathered through the regular tapes:

As mentioned, Amanda knows Kate and considered her a friend. When she's aware of something bad happening to Kate, she's upset. Both times, Wooly does not want to talk about Kate or send her anything.

Amanda does NOT like Wooly. At first she treats him with neutral disdain, just kinda ignoring him, but in several tapes she actively encourages hurting him.

Amanda has a fascination with death. In the "Everything Rots" tape, she says, "Sometimes I can feel myself rotting... but it seems far away."

In certain points, if you reference words such as "butcher," "Hameln", "Sam", or "Rebecca", Amanda will have a stunned reaction and Wooly will look uncomfortable, before the tape glitches. Using "Sam" in one instance gets you a secret tape.

In one tape, Amanda encounters a "lonely kitten." She asks Riley if you'll help the kitten. If you say "Yes," she looks surprised and the tape ends. If you say "No," she'll start begging and pleading for you to as the world glitches around her. The tape will end and you will be killed by the monster.

In order to get the tapes, you sometimes have to do upsetting things, such as cutting off a doll's head (causing it to scream), or breaking a toy robot that begs you to stop. At one point, you have to kill a rat in the attic and place it in the toy oven.

And the secret tapes:

Amanda was originally a live-action program starring Rebecca Colton. It was acquired by a company named Hameln to make it into an animated show, but they started having Rebecca say suspicious things into the mic which made her dad uncomfortable. (Such things were seemingly innocuous phrases such as "bye yell," which when said quickly sound like the name of demons like Bael). Sam Colton then disappeared mysteriously, leaving Rebecca in the care of Hameln.

Children other than Joanne's brother have disappeared while watching Amanda; we see a little girl glued to the TV as Amanda plays, and her mother leaves the room for a minute, before returning to find her completely missing.

When you have enough tapes, you get a second version of "Oh No! Accidents!" in which Wooly is supposed to be injured, but isn't. Amanda insists he's still injured, but in the head, and that they need to make him better. She then drugs him and takes him to a dingy hospital set, where she says she's going to use several tools to do surgery on him. Whether you help Wooly of Amanda, she attacks and seemingly kills the sheep. You have to solve a final puzzle, in order to get a tape entitled "We Can Share." In the tape, Amanda is alone, with Wooly edited out of the intro and suspiciously lamb-based products in her lunchbox.

She will then ask Riley if she can share a secret with them. She will ask this three times, giving opportunity for Riley to refuse. Here are the three endings this tape will give you:

If you say "No" at any point, Amanda will get upset, and say "I thought you were different." The tape ends, and when you turn around, the attic is completely empty except for a note that says "Leave."

If you say "Yes" every time, Amanda will then say, in a voice ungarbled by TV static (implying she's in the room with you), "I'm out there. Somewhere." The TV will glitch and start screaming, and you have to throw a brick at it to break it.

If you say "Yes" every time AND have all five secret tapes, the same thing will happen, but a Masked Figure will appear behind you. This is the True Ending as confirmed by the second game.

There is also a final, optional ending: If you pause "What's a Family" during the weather reports and play with the weather toy, the attic trapdoor will start glowing. When you enter, you awaken as a piece of meat in the butcher shop, and the game ends. This is known as the Butcher Ending, and implies that those who disappear into Amanda's world are killed by the Butcher and subsequently eaten, likely by the Amanda-Monster that's been attacking you.

This is the end of game one. The second game picks up immediately afterwords; the Masked Figure speaks in a feminine voice, telling you she was a friend of Kate's and that she'll help you. She drives you to the library, asking you to gather the tapes inside while she keeps watch outside. Once inside, you can indeed find several new tapes while the Figure occasionally contacts you, saying that a monster seems to be following her outside; at one point, she also tells you that Kate's house has burnt down after you both left. Your goal in this game is to get into Kate's office, which is locked.

For the first few tapes, Amanda is alone without Wooly; however, a mysterious Possum will show up and try to mess with her. When it does, she is genuinely surprised to see it, not knowing who it is. Amanda is more open with Riley, often trying to say that she can't go anywhere, that she feels trapped, and that Hameln and the Butcher scare her. In fact, ANY reference to the Butcher will make her terrified and angry, and at one point can softlock you in the game. If you let her have a nightmare in the "Goodnight" tape, you see her nightmare of being watched while the Butcher looms over her; if you give her a nightlight, she calls Riley by name.

In the tape "Let's Practice Patience," suddenly Wooly appears, as if late to the program. Amanda will get angry and attack him, before the tape glitches back to the beginning. As she tries to intro the segment, Amanda snaps and says she doesn't want Wooly there; it will once again glitch to the beginning and they will continue the tape. All following viewings of the tape will have this third intro, as if Wooly was always there. It should be noted that the Hameln logo only appears in the tapes that Wooly does, and that Wooly also does not know who the Possum is.

In a following tape, Amanda will try to hunt for treasure. If you lead her to the wrong place, she will dig up what seems to be Sam Colton's clothes, look distraught, and then rebury it at Wooly's prompting. If you play it normally, Amanda will get angry that she hasn't found any real treasure, and tell Riley to give her something that will make her happy. The Amanda-Monster will then appear from behind the TV, and no matter what you give it, it will kill you, leading to the first ending.

However, once you "start over" the game, the first tape is different, with Amanda asking you to do something different than you did last time. When you do, a train set appears behind you, and having it go to the places Amanda wants to go will get you a new tape. Taking it to a different exit will also get you a secret tape.

An important tape is the one titled "When You're Feeling Bad." Amanda is having a bad day and lying on the couch, snapping at Wooly. Wooly tries to tell her a story about a knight saving a princess from a dragon; if you help Wooly tell the story normally, she will get angry and the Amanda-Monster will kill you. If you follow the story told by Amanda's drawings in the background, a mysterious narrator will tell a more tragic tale, of a princess being turned into a dragon which her beloved knight then slays, which upsets Wooly but makes Amanda happy. She will then tell the Amanda-Monster not to kill you and send it away.

Upon finishing this and replaying the "Hunt for Treasure" tape, you now have the option to give the Amanda-Monster a Wooly toy when Amanda demands treasure. It hears a roar from elsewhere in the building and runs off, breaking open Kate's office door. You can enter and find several puzzle pieces you'll need, as well as a locked desk and a broken tape titled "We Can Fix It!" First playing that tape will show nothing but horrifying glitches, but repairing it makes it only mildly glitchy as Amanda tries to fix Wooly's box of junk. After the Possum attacks Wooly in this tape, he says he's tired of this game and will try to sit down, as if waiting for the tape to end.

It should also be noted that in this tape (iirc), you can see the Butcher figure, telling you to "count backwards from ten," and that you may feel a pinch. If this seems confusing, it's what doctors usually say while putting you under anesthesia before a surgery.

The Bad Ending comes when you reach the final tape without having all of the other tapes, and you have to complete it in order to get the True Ending later. You'll watch a tape titled "Do You Feel Safe?", where Amanda expresses distrust in Wooly and a slight trust in Riley, before hearing the Masked Figure over the radio and saying she doesn't trust new friends, ending the tape. The Masked Figure will enter and tell you that she's gathering a few things, and tell you to finish up. Completing a final puzzle will get you three keys to unlock Kate's desk, which has a tape recorder (which you can't play until the True Ending) and a button that opens a door to a secret bunker, with a ladder leading into the ground.

The Masked Figure will arrive and tell you it's time to destroy the tapes. She will smash one with a hammer, causing light to emerge from it. However, the Amanda-Monster will then attack her, and Riley flees into the bunker at her urging. You'll close the door and descend the ladder as the Figure screams and dies, ending the game.

The True Ending comes with the secret tapes, which give you the following information:

There is a tape of several adults investigating the paranormal activities around the Amanda tapes, as they're noticing several references to demons of multiple religions. They conclude that Hameln is connected to a cult that hasn't been practiced publicly since the middle ages; however, as the adults start disappearing, they get more antsy about what's going on with the company and if they can actually contact "Rebecca" through the tapes. Kate believes she is talking to Rebecca through Amanda, but she's volatile. It should be noted that this tape seems to take place "fifteen years" after the show first aired, placing it in mid-2016, several years before our game takes place.

One tape shows Hameln trying to coerce Sam into telling Rebecca to trust them. They are holding him hostage and refusing to let him see his daughter unless he complies, claiming that his contract allows them to do this. He refuses, saying he did not agree to lie to his daughter.

Someone secretly filming in a hospital shows an adult woman strapped to a hospital bed being monitored by doctors who talk about "incidents." They spot the person filming and chase them; it should also be noted that this tape is labelled in the files as "Rebecca's Room."

Getting all of these will unlock the True Ending, which starts the same as the Bad Ending, with the "Do You Feel Safe?" tape. However, as the Masked Figure talks to you, this time the Possum will arrive, and seemingly recognize the voice. It jumps at the screen, shouting, "JO- JOA-" before playing dead. (It often plays dead at the end of tapes, but whether it's playing or not in this one is unclear.) Amanda and Wooly will throw its body into a dumpster and leave; if you refused to help them, they will be angry at you, and if you did, they will simply ignore you.

The Masked Figure comes in and tells you to collect everything as she gathers items. However, this time, you will be able to play the cassette tape in Kate's desk, and hear audio of her death; she is in a car, having a breakdown and telling you not to investigate the tapes, that everyone who's done so is dead, and "Joanne is dead; she trusted me." You hear the car crash, then, which is what killed Kate.

The Masked Figure enters, stunned, and reveals herself to be Joanne. She says that someone approached her and told her that if she destroyed the tapes, she could free her brother. She went to Kate, who wouldn't let her destroy the tapes, and the Amanda-Monster attacked, likely trying to protect the tapes. She pushed Kate out and told her to run, and while she survived but ended up scarred, Kate died in the following car accident. Joanne suspects that whoever told her to destroy the tapes may not have had the best intentions, and tells you to take one specific tape and run into the bunker, and finally destroy Hameln. As you do, the lights go out and Joanne is attacked. However, you see a different monster than the one that normally attacks; instead of Amanda-Monster, this one looks eerily like Wooly. Joanne's death sounds will be much more brutal and painful as you escape and end the game.

This is where we're left off until Amanda 3 inevitably drops.

Lore Summarized

In the early 2000s, Sam Colton started a local live-action television show starring his adopted daughter, Rebecca, Amanda the Adventurer. It became a local hit, and he partnered with the library and head librarian Kate to use it to promote literacy and exploration. The show was acquired by a company named Hameln, who wanted to turn it into an animated program. However, they started making Rebecca record suspicious lines that sounded a lot like demon names, and Rebecca expressed discomfort at "a man in the headphones" telling her to do bad things. When Sam started showing hesitancy at letting Rebecca do things, Hameln kidnapped and held him hostage, telling the rest of the world that he'd abandoned them and his daughter. It's most likely that they eventually killed Sam and buried his body.

Now with full control of Rebecca, Hameln had her continue their strange experiments until she too disappeared from the public eye. What is most likely is that they had her put under a medically-induced coma that transferred her consciousness into the animated world, literally turning her into Amanda; somehow, this also enabled a demon to enter the physical world with a connection to her.

Rebecca remains stagnant in the animated world, continually luring children to join her in this world, where the Butcher kills them and uses them as a meat source. Amanda doesn't seem to want to do this, and is disgusted and horrified by the Butcher, but she also doesn't seem to have a choice. The Butcher may also be connected to the doctor who put Rebecca into this procedure.

While Wooly is still ambiguous, the leading theory rn is that Wooly was a Hameln employee who was placed inside the world as a way to keep Amanda from questioning them or divulging from the path, and Wooly does not realize how long he's been in there or that Hameln has also abandoned him and made a demon out of him as well. Amanda, however, starts to pick up on this in the first game, which is why she is so violent towards him and eventually kills him.

Kate and her paranormal investigation friends began investigating the tapes after she noticed Demonology in it, but they slowly disappeared one-by-one. Kate became convinced that she could contact Rebecca through the recorded tapes of the show, which Amanda seems to confirm as she references Kate as her friend, but which Wooly didn't like.

In about 2021, a boy named Jordan Cook disappeared while watching the show. His sister, Joanne, became obsessed with finding him, and someone told her that destroying the tapes would free her brother. Kate refused to let her, and the Amanda-Demon attacked, resulting in Kate's death as she tried to escape in a car crash, and Joanne's scarring.

Following Kate's death, her house was given to her nibling Riley Park, who began playing the tapes and piecing together what happened as they also communicated with Amanda. Amanda attempted to kill and eat Wooly to prevent him from returning, but the next game shows this was not a permanent solution. Amanda does communicate to Riley that she is out there somewhere before the TV freaks out and Riley has to break it.

Joanne then meets with Riley and brings them to the library, hoping to get into Kate's office. Joanne is stalked by a monster, likely the Wooly-Demon, while Riley plays more tapes. Amanda shows even more disdain for Wooly, as mentioned, and Wooly keeps trying to steer her onto the scripted path. In these tapes, a Possum will appear and try to stop whatever they're doing; both of them are surprised and confused by its appearance.

If you destroy the tapes, the Amanda-Demon arrives and kills Joanne. But in the True Ending, the Possum hears Joanne's voice over the radio and recognizes it, implying that the Possum is Jordan. When Riley hears the audio of Kate's death, Joanne will break and tell them to run with a tape. They enter Kate's secret bunker, before seeing the Wooly-Demon kill Joanne. Riley escapes into the unknown, until Amanda 3 drops at least.