#but that anger will continue to hurt YOU. it will punish YOU. it will prevent YOU from making new deep connections. it will protect you yes

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[mymindisneverhere]

late night writes… punishment (pt. 1)

18+ SMUT 

pt. 2

Imagine… Terry orders you to keep quiet after constantly dealing with your smart mouth.

warning: bd/sm themes 

arms and legs restrained. knees bent, calves pressed against your thighs, each leg wrapped separately in rope to prevent you from moving them. your lower set of lips parted from the spread of your legs. arms tied behind your back, wrists pressed together as the rope did its job. flat on your back… head somewhat hanging off the bed.

he left you like this for a while, alone. to think about why you lost a few privileges, one of them; the privilege to move freely. 

so caught up in your temporary emotions, you’d move away from him whenever he’d reach for you as a way to express your anger without actually saying anything. your passive aggressive body language bringing his aggression to the forefront. 

finally returning back to the room after what felt like decades but had only been an hour. he stood in the doorway, knocking on the door frame to gain your attention. you turned your head to him, the only part of your body that went unrestrained. leaning against the frame, he asked you if you could tell him why you were being punished.

with his permission to speak, you finally answer, remorseful of course. grateful that you could finally say something. that was the second privilege you lost: the privilege to speak freely. 

you had been quite mouthy with him over the past few days, slick remarks and smart comments leaving your lips anytime he asked you a simple question. 

“what do you think?” had been your favorite response when he questioned you about your sudden change in attitude, when you could’ve just used your words to simply tell him what you wanted… more attention. 

so he decided to leave you alone all by yourself in silence; no music, no tv, nothing. you couldn’t even hear the sounds of him shuffling throughout your home. 

facetiming himself from the iPad in the room, monitoring you from another area in the house. you weren’t allowed to do so much as whisper to yourself or it would add onto the time you spent tied up and alone. 

walking over to the bed he bent down to take your clit into his mouth, making a smooching sound as he pulled away. the sudden encounter causing you to shudder from the feeling of his lips. 

your mind had been filled with so many different scenarios, you made yourself wet just by predicting what he’d do to you. and he knew how your mind liked to wander, that’s why he left you like this. 

he stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed. his eyes trailing over your body slowly as he made his way to the other side. finally reaching you, he stood over your head, staring down at you. 

‘he looks like a God from this view.’ you thought. 

placing his hands on the bed, both at your sides, he bent down to your stomach, the cold feeling of his chain against your belly sending chills up your body. he planted kisses against your skin, licking and sucking each spot he touched. 

his attempt at trying to soften you up before ruining you the way that he planned to. 

he kissed below your navel, between your thighs, right above your lips, exhaling harshly. the feeling of his breath brushing against your clit caused you to bite your lip, preventing yourself from making a sound.

he made his way to your nipples, hard and sensitive. pulling one into his mouth, rolling it in between his teeth, gradually tightening his bite. you turned your head to the side still fighting against your voice, it hurt so good. 

he did the same to your other nipple, biting and then tracing your areolas with his tongue. you lifted your back off of the bed as much as you could to feel more of him on your body. your hole closing around nothing as he continued toying with your breasts. 

‘just fuck me already’ 

you wouldn’t dare say it outloud though. because you’ve been deprived of touch for a few days and not allowed to speak since the start of today, you have a lot of pent up ‘energy’. but you knew better than to express it verbally at this moment. 

he stood up and stared down at you as he reached between your legs, taking note of how wet you were. that mind of yours was something powerful, he had to admit. running his fingers up and down to collect all of your essence on his fingers, he went two fingers deep in your slit. 

fingering you slowly, making sure to coat his fingers all the way up to his knuckles. he loved playing in your sex and you enjoyed it too but you knew eventually it would become too much to handle because this session was for learning purposes only. 

‘it feels so fucking good tho’ 

you naturally let your eyes roll into your head when you hear “eyes”, signaling your eyes to lock onto his. his eyes a bit dark and low as he dug deep into you. the more you focused on his gaze the deeper felt his fingers go, pulling them all the way out then pushing them all the way back in.  

shirtless. you could see the muscles in his chest flex as he pumped you at his own pace. “did you get your ounces like you’re supposed to?” referring to the amount of water you were supposed to drink on a regular basis, his orders. 

“yes daddy” was all you were allowed to say. your walls tightened around his fingers and your eyes began to roll again until you felt a firm hand right under your jaw, pinky grazing your chin. 

“eyes!”

your eyes followed suit and land on his again, his eyes never leaving yours. the longer you focused on his eyes, the more your inner focus went to the feeling between your legs. 

your breathing was deep and slow, matching the rhythm of his fingers. relaxing deeper into the mattress with each exhale. your eyes were still on his but your mind was solely on the pleasure.

a small smile crept on his lips as he noticed the look on your face, you were pleading with him as best as you could without vocalizing it. he enjoyed having you weak like this, the woeful expression on your face was so satisfying to look at. 

he sped up his pace, hitting your spot over and over again as he curled his fingers upward, not giving you enough time to react to each hit before feeling the next. 

relaxing all of the muscles in your body, you could feel a rush threatening to release and you refused to fight it. you couldn’t fight it anyway, he knew your body too well.

he sped up a bit more, still holding onto your gaze, daring you to make a sound. your mouth hung open as your eyebrows lifted in ecstasy.

“oh-“ escaped your lips before you could catch yourself, your eyes widened as the flood released from your body. you pushed all of your breath out as the juices rushed to leave your center. 

you watched his mouth form the words “don’t test me”, making you regret the sound you had made, it was an honest accident that you would still have to pay for. 

finally removing his fingers from your entrance, wrinkled from the time spent inside of you, he dragged them up to your clit that stung from arousal. using the slickness that had gathered on his fingers, they glided across your clit back forth, left to right, the slippery surface making it easy for him to toy with it. 

your body jerked against the restraints as he ran his hand back and forth, gently slapping your spot again and again. it wasn’t like you could do much moving anyway, the grip he had on your neck kept you in place for the most part. 

“say something.” he dared, his fingers still manipulating your clit. you inhaled deeply as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. the feeling of his heavy hand providing you both pleasure and pain at the same levels. it was a lot to take but also too good to let go of. 

he stared down at you, one brow raised as he watched your lips, seeing it you’d test him further. you knew better tho. 

your legs shook, torso jumping as you let yourself get played with. thankfully your climax was right on schedule. the splashing sounds were the only noise in the room as his rhythm went uninterrupted. 

you bit down on your lip as you struggled to muffle your cries and keep your eyes open and on him. eyebrows curled in defeat as you looked up at him. he was staring into your soul.

your clit had grown so sensitive, too sensitive to be worked over like this but he didn’t care, that wasn’t his problem. 

finally letting up a bit, he slowly caressed your swollen button, allowing you a small window of time to regain your composure. his free hand left your neck and caressed your forehead that was beginning to bead with sweat. 

“good girl” he said, as he slid his hands back into your opening, curling his fingers upward once again, rolling his wrist a bit, his hands pushing back and forth faster than before. “i love playing in this shit”

he was torturing you solely for his own pleasures, barely allowing you time to come down from your last climax or the one before. back to back. 

his hands slid down your head and locked onto your hair, pulling your head back even further. your chest rose again as he worked to pull yet another release from you, his eyes focused on your center this time, waiting to watch it do its magic again. 

his eyes shined as he looked on in awe at how much of a mess you were making on his hands, taking all of the credit for your ruins. a large puddle formed beneath you on the king size comforter and it was your job to ensure it was cleaned properly after he was done with you. 

he stood so close to you, you could feel his hard dick against your face through his pants. you wanted so badly to feel it inside of you but you were in the middle of a teaching. 

getting what you wanted was at the bottom of tonight’s task list. you’d get there only if you earned it.

“shit here it comes” he announced, so in tune with your body and how it responded to certain rhythms and being touched in specific ways. feeling the pleasure built with each pump, your stomach was tightening as he pushed his fingers into you. 

he kept the pace, lifting your head to make you watch yourself squirt all over his hand. your face was riddled with sorrows and pleasures.

“beautiful” he said to himself. you were unsure if he was referring to you, your pussy, or both. 

he kept pumping and the juices kept flowing. your chin pressed into your chest as your vision blurred, a set of tears forming as he drained the rest of your fluids out of you in a different way. 

he pulled out of you and gave a few slaps to your clit, causing you to jerk each time his hand landed on it. pulling your head back onto the bed, he ran his drenched fingers over your lips. smearing your juices all over you before grabbing your jaw.

bringing his face down just a few inches from yours he stated “watch your mouth when you talk to me, understand?” 

“yes daddy.” you whimpered, staring into his eyes. “i’m sorry.” you spoke honestly, regretting the way you treated him up until today. his stern expression softened just a bit before returning to its usual state.

he kissed your lips and stood up to examine you from head to toe. he reached down and finally wiped the tears from your face as he let out a deep breath. 

he wanted so badly to finish you completely, no breaks but your slow blinking and semi-limp body let him know that you may need some time to reset. 

“make it up to me or do you need a break?” he stared down at you, thick eyebrows bent in genuine concern. 

“a break p-please.” you managed, swallowing the lump in your throat after finally being able to speak words other than the only ones he’d allow. 

he smirked to himself, loving the pitiful expression on your face as you looked up at him. 

“okay.” he walked out of the room, shortly returning with water for you. removing the ropes from your legs, he pulled them straight across the bed stretching them slowly. he left your wrists tied as he sat you up straight. 

tilting the straw forward, you took as many sips as desired before he pulled the glass back and placed it on the nightstand. he placed his hands in his pockets and stared down at your mascara stained face as you looked up at him. 

“you can rest for a bit, you’ll need it.”

with that he walked out of the room leaving you there alone once again with your thoughts. you sat there, yet again trying to predict what would be a part of this punishment next. 

you just hoped you’d be able to finally use your words… 

part two tomorrow night 🩵

[jinxvex]

can we get jinx w a very doting gf :3

♱ gf!jinx x doting (affectionate)!reader ♱

yes!! i love this request! 🖤 oneshot vibes fr!

cw: a bit angsty at first, little snippets of act 1/season 2,SFW & NSFW!!!, smutty drabble at the end, jinx pushes you into a wall once, you're very affectionate (obv), kissing, hugging, dirty talk, tribbing, praise, dom-ish!jinx & sub!reader, etc etc

wc: 1.4K

jinx had nothing; no one.

not after the her attack on piltover.

her unhinged, yet powerful act of rebellion ultimately caused a war between the city of progress and the dangerous underground city of zaun.

and had forced her into hiding…

i mean, what was worse? being caught by the stuck-up, zaunite-hating, piltie goons who murdered her mother and father or being alone?

she often contemplated that question.

she contemplated her future.

was any of it worth it now that her sister wanted nothing to do with her? now that she’s laid her adoptive father to rest in the contaminated murky river? now that she has a bounty on her head?

she wasn’t sure.

she wasn’t sure if anyone even gave a damn about her or whether she lived or died.

“it’s all just… pointless!” she replayed on a loop in her head, the place that has always been too loud and too daunting for her comfort.

jinx was alone.

well, until she met you.

as jinx sneakily roamed the dark and dingy alleyways of zaun in her not-so-discreet disguise, she was met with (almost) complete and utter silence. which casts an eerie feeling of unfamiliarity within her bones.

the lively (although still dangerous) streets of zaun were usually bustling with people. drunks, shimmer addicts, salesmen, crooks, and goons alike typically overcrowd every inch of the sunken city, which used to allow her to go wherever she pleased without anyone noticing her.

since the enforcers started raiding the city and imprisoning the people of zaun, a petty punishment for her own wrongdoings, many zaunites didn’t feel safe. they opted to stay inside, shut themselves out, and draw the blinds closed to prevent them from being taken too.

as jinx continues to walk towards her destination, “home”, a wave of loneliness washes over her, a feeling she so desperately had attempted to rid herself of for years.

she isn’t inclined to speak, though. not out loud to empty space or to the voices. maybe she’d save that for home.

as her head is angled downwards, looking at her dragging feet, she turns another corner in order to make her way back to her humble abode.

and all of a sudden, she bumps into a hard, human-shaped object? as she backs up menacingly after plummeting into something, she slowly brings her head up and is met with the sight of… you.

“a girl?” she exclaims in her head.

“a pretty one.”

“does she live near here?”

“wait! does she know who i am?”

“is she here to kill me? take me away?”

“no. no! i can’t let her.”

“not now…”

“damn it!”

her thoughts overflow with endless possibilities and scenarios that cause her to grip your shoulders and harshly back you up into the hard surface of a cement building without warning.

you gasp loudly, but as you bring your hands up to fight back and protect yourself from whatever is about to come, your moments are suddenly still.

as you look into her pinkish, vibrant eyes, you’re met with fear. you’re met with anger, loneliness, and suffering, which prompt you to freeze. her face is littered with fresh cuts, scrapes, and scars. your heart squeezes in empathy as you look into each other's eyes—jinx not even having the energy to reach for her gun out of concern for herself.

“you’re hurt.” you mutter softly. your caring nature immediately wanting to help her. jinx. and yes, you know of her. that doesn’t matter to you now.

her eyes still gaze into yours, even as she removes her hands from your shoulders.

“yeah, tell me ‘bout it, sweetness.” she laughs almost mockingly, not towards you, but at herself.

“want me to clean that up?” you point your chin up at the wounds on her face.

she blinks at you incredulously before allowing a smirk to grace her features for the first time in what seems like forever.

“damn! take a girl out to dinner first, babe.”

you smile.

… ( mini time skip!! a couple months)

jinx wasn't used to physical and emotional affection. love. let alone romantic gestures. silco looked after her but struggled to give the affection a parent would once he took her in all those years ago.

at first, she was incredibly taken aback by your willingness to help her even though you knew who she was. you knew who she was and still allowed her to lead you back to her workshop to patch her up. after that day, spent cleaning her wounds, you never left.

she was enamored by you.

by your ability to love.

you were moderately affectionate in the beginning, but as the weeks passed, your excessive praise and doting intensified. at first, it was lingering touches on her face after you insisted on "checking" her facial bandages. then it was moving her hair out of her face and caressing the sides of her head when she's in an episode.

once you started coming up behind her as she was working on her gadgets to link your arms around her waist and lay your head on her shoulder, she was hooked on you.

she did initially flinch and curl out of your touch, but as she took in your scent and realized it was you, she relaxed. she accepted you.

...

"just me!" you exclaim happily as you nudge your face into her neck, and she softly gasps when you give her small, gentle pecks.

"hmmph! you're too sweet to me, buttercup! scares me sometimes..." she fluctuates the tone of her voice from happy to unsure and back to happy again.

one thing she is sure of, though, is her love for you.

as you peer up at her from the side of her neck, you tighten your arms around her, "you deserve it. all the hugs, kisses and love!"

you both never felt a need to verbally establish a label on your relationship.

the night you took each other's first kiss, there was a mutual understanding. you were hers, and she was yours.

when she's with you, the voices quiet, and the visions aren't as prevalent anymore. she feels safe. not just because she's in hiding, still successfully dodging piltover, but because you're there.

although that is the case, you still make her crazy for you.

your unconditional affection ignites a fire inside her that loving you could only put out.

...(nsfw incoming!!)

"s-shit, babe! fuck!" her voice echoes throughout the seemingly endless depths of her workshop as she circles her hips and drags her wet cunt against yours.

your moans and little "oh my g-god!'s" adding to the music that is your pussies grinding together to make filthy sloshing noises.

"fuckin' pussy is so so good, bunny! pl-eease!" she begs you, although she's the one above you, her hand pushing one of your legs up to rest on her shoulder and her other hand pressing your leg down onto the couch. her ass is perched on your upper thigh to allow her to buck her hips up into your cunt as close as she possibly can.

"yes! yes! more, baby! you feel so good!" you babble as you lay back, looking up at her through your eyelashes. she's sitting right side up as she continues to hump your cunt with her eyes glued shut in concentration.

she can feel every pulse, every throb of your heat as she chases her high, and it affects her deeply.

"you're perfect, y-you know that?" you question. "fucking perfect. i love you so much!" she almost stills. that "perfect" word causes her heart to beat out her chest. she slows down slightly as she opens her eyes and looks down at you, looking back at her lovingly.

now inspired by your praise, she then speeds up, even faster and rougher than before.

"yeah? yeah? 'm perfect, baby? you loveee me?" she asks you mockingly as she stares into your eyes.

"yes! you feel so good. so perfect! fuckin' love you! need ta' cum! you scream out.

"mhm! thought so. then show me how good you're feelin' and cum all over me." she demands of you. "make a mess on this pussy, toots."

she lets out a "give me that shit, baby" and a "need my sweet girl to cum, so fuckin' nice to this pussy" to urge you on.

"fu-uck! right there! i'm cumming!"

"shit, me too!"

...

as you both come down from your high, she eventually lets your leg down and sits you upright to hug you tightly.

she feels so appreciated, so loved in the moment that she cups your jaw with her shaky hands and kisses you hard.

"i love you, hon. you're so..."

"i love you too, pow."

...

and y'all live happily ever after, and the events of act 3 NEVERRR happen!!! 😜🥳‼️

[supremechancellorrex]

Avatar in my head and I was thinking about Maiko and Mai.

Now, Mai's character arc in Avatar, from my interpretation, is rediscovering herself and her wants and personhood that has been stripped from her as a noblewoman part of a family that submitted to the Fire Nation Imperialist structure and Ozai. We see in Book 2 set up for this. Mai in early Book 2 does not resist Azula's will aside from brief sparks of rebellion where she isn't present. "Of course not, Princess Azula" she notes formally and apathetically when Azula asks if she "minds", knowing she has no choice as Azula 'just' ponders if Mai's hostage brother is worth an Earth King like Bumi. Mai is always aware that Azula, as Princess in an authoritarian nation where the Fire Lord is God, can have her executed and her family punished. The unequal power dynamic is surprisingly consistent in the show.

Mai can't even insult Azula back in Zuko Alone as a child. She just lets Azula put an apple on her head (as Ty Lee loyally sniggers along), set it on fire, and when Zuko pushes her into the fountain to put it out, Mai, drenched, glares and says "You two are such… ugh". We know Mai can have an acid tongue, yet her fear of Azula prevents her from using it. Her most rebellious act in Book 2 is when she says "She can shoot all the lightning she wants at me. I am not getting in that wall sludge juice". Mai actually has self-respect, but she can't express it in the presence of greater threats, meanwhile Ty Lee merely says "Come on! Azula said we have to follow them", because Ty Lee follows Azula's will even when she isn't there.

Even when Mai gets with Zuko, she falls into a subservient role. When Azula interrupts Maiko's smooching, lazily dismissing Mai with "Oh Mai, Ty Lee needs help untangling her braid" Mai responds quickly "Sounds pretty serious" with only a touch of dryness and leaves, only able to muster throwing Azula a dirty look a split second after passing her. However, this little ember of rebellion will grow.

Mai has continued difficulty understanding Zuko's anger and reactiveness, or how to even function in a relationship. She initially tries to joke in a dismissive fashion, as if saying 'ugh, feelings are lame, right?', but that would only work with Azula logically. The Beach episode is a key Mai episode. She continues to be emotionally repressed, to the point Zuko, Ty Lee and Azula comment on it. However, Zuko's insecurity at her talking to Ruon-Jian to the point he physically removes him from her presence, and his accusative comments like "You like him, don't you?", also makes Mai feel a little boxed in, controlled, and that does irritated her given her history. However, at the Beach's emotional narrative climax, Mai is able to finally express herself at the rest of the group (Azula included) for the first time, telling them to "Leave her alone" and that she's "still mad". After Zuko explosively reveals the extent of his pain and confusion, we see a 'smoothing' effect on her attitude. She realises her and Zuko are dealing with pain in different ways and his way is understandable.

Mai says softly, "I know one thing I care about, I care about you". This is the one thing Mai can grasp in the confusion. This is where Mai betraying Azula becomes inevitable. We see Mai continue to be more supportive with Zuko, more actively trying to cheer him up in Nightmares and Daydreams with big smiles and jokes while Zuko remains shut down over the War meeting and is acting irritated and repressed due to his family trauma. When Zuko later leaves and joins the Avatar, Mai is hurt and angry, which shows in the Boiling Rock, saying "All I get is a letter? You could have at least looked me in the eye when you ripped out my heart". They have a tense conversation, but it's their most honest one. I actually think Mai already made up her mind in this scene to support Zuko over Azula, and she doesn't quite realise it. "Save it? You're betraying your country" she accuses, to which Zuko replies, resolute, "That's not how I see it", and in response Mai just folds her arms and turns her head away in an almost defeat.

I find it very telling she doesn't respond. It's because she realises Zuko is more passionate and resolute about his mission than she is hers. It's because she knows the Fire Nation under its current authority is not exactly great. Sometimes in life we fall into a box and we need someone to give us that little push so we can realise we can climb out of it, that the toxic space we're in isn't normal, and we don't have to tolerate it. I like to think Mai was thinking in that moment where Zuko locked her in the cell and he and she gazed into each others' eyes, what she was really thinking about was what life she actually wanted to live. She was thinking of Azula and being under her thumb, and she was thinking of all those moments with Zuko, like when they were lounging on the sofa together, smiling and joking in Nightmares & Daydreams, and she realised how ridiculous it was to be afraid of Azula killing her when the real fear should be being Azula's servant until her dying days, decades of repression and misery.

After all, what does Mai have left to fight for? Fear of Azula? Hah, what a joke. She remembers "I know one thing I care about. I care about you" and when she sees Zuko about to die she has to intervene.

"I guess you just don't know people as well as you think you do. You miscalculated. I love Zuko more than I fear you" Mai says to an increasingly-enraged Azula's speak of 'consequences', because Mai did fear Azula, but now in her love for Zuko she has found a purpose she has been lacking, her feelings and wants over Azula's will. Zuko being true to himself is contagious. Iroh's love for Zuko puts him on the right path, and in turn the love Mai has for Zuko saves her. As a consequence Ty Lee chooses Mai and their friendship over Azula's toxic, fear-based one and even later bonds with former enemies like the Kyoshi Warriors. Like Zuko says to Ozai, "an era of peace and kindness" will replace an "era of fear". In the face of fear, love and empathy win.

[soapyghostie]

Hey! Absolutely random request, but imagine reader being a tired person that out of wounds and stress they just fall asleep when they're being carried, about to go on a hook. How would the dbd killers(any, really) react?

Like, imagine. Being carried, without anything under legs can already make someone sleepy if they don't have adrenaline pumped through their veins. Plus, i know that having wounds(aka blood loss) can make people very tired.

Since this request it a little vague, I decided to get a little creative with it and wrote some angst because I’m a sucker for angst with dad slashers (except Frank is your big brother in this request). 😭 Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

Danny would be confused at first, bloodlust still kicking through his veins even after killing all our teammates as he carries you, his injured daughter, to the hook (Sorry (Y/N), he’s just doing his job. No hard feelings). He’ll pause for a moment, trying to process the fact that you feel asleep on his shoulder.

As he realizes that you fell asleep due to exhaustion and stress from your wounds, Danny’s demeanor would soften and his parental instincts within him kicks in. He’ll gently adjust you in his arms from being thrown over his shoulder to being carried bridal style, ensuring that you’re comfortable even as he still proceeds to hook you. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state would stir up a lot of internal conflict in Danny. He’s torn between his role as a merciless killer and his love for you as his daughter as he hesitates to sacrifice you to the Entity. Danny’s had a lot of bad performances in trials lately and he really needs the 4K. However, to get the 4K he needs to sacrifice you. Of course it has to be you: the Entity is so cruel. 

As to not get punished by the Entity, sadly, Danny will throw you onto the hook. Danny would feel a pang of remorse and sadness. He knows that he’s the cause of your pain and exhaustion, and seeing you in such a vulnerable state serves as a painful reminder of the life he’s subjected you to. He silently reflects on his actions and their consequences. He’ll gaze at your sleeping form dangling from the hook, grappling with the complexities of his emotions and the choices he made. 

Despite his conflicted emotions, Danny remains committed to his role in the Entity’s twisted game. However, Danny’s determination to protect you remains unwavering. He’ll play the Entity’s game and continue this dark path as a killer if it means to ensure your safety as he doesn’t want you to be harmed as a result of his shortcomings… 

The Legion/Frank Morrison

Frank would be initially shocked and panicked to see you, his younger sister, in such a vulnerable state. Despite his tough ‘bad boy’ exterior, he deeply cares about you and seeing you hurt triggers his protective instincts. 

The sight of you falling asleep from exhaustion and stress while carrying you to the hook fills Frank with anger and frustration. He’ll curse under his breath, feeling powerless to protect you and frustrated with the situation at hand. First off, your god damn heavy after going unconscious and, secondly, he has no choice but to hook you due to the amount of failed trials he’s had lately to try and please the Entity. 

Despite his anger, Frank, also like Danny, would feel a sense of inner conflict. On one hand, he wants to lash out at the Entity for throwing her into a trial with him, but on the other hand, he knows he has to get the 4K by hooking you so you end up safe and sound at the survivor camp instead of the agony the Entity threatened to put you through if he didn’t start stepping it up in trials. You’re the reason he has the strength to keep going in this awful, twisted game of cat and mouse. 

Frank would grapple with the feeling of guilt and responsibility for your condition. As your older brother, he feels entitled to preventing you from getting hurt in the first place and blames himself for everything that has happened to you. Despite his conflicting emotions, he would carefully and gently place you on the hook, making sure you're as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. As he watches you sleep on the hook, Frank would have a quiet moment of reflection. He reminisces about y’all’s childhood together and vows silently to himself to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

Seeing you vulnerable would only fuel Frank’s determination to perform better in trials. He would be even more relentless in his pursuit of survivors, driven by the desire to protect you from the Entity’s hungry claws. 

The Shape/Michael Myers

Michael would pause, a flicker of confusion crossing his expressionless face. The sight of you, his daughter, falling asleep despite the dire circumstances briefly disrupts his usual relentless pursuit to satisfy his murderous desires. 

Deep within his obscured psyche, a conflict brews. While Michael is driven by an insatiable urge to kill, his parental instincts stir, conflicting with his murderous impulses. This momentary hesitation leads to a brief internal struggle, the likes of which observers of Michael would never perceive. 

Despite the task at hand and the chaos of the trial, Michael momentarily freezes, holding your unconscious body with an eerie stillness. His iconic breathing momentarily ceases, as if he too, like Danny and Frank, were contemplating the peculiar situation. 

In a rare display of tenderness, Michael gingerly adjusts your position, ensuring that you're comfortable even as he prepares to hook you. His movements would be precise, almost caring, as if he’s trying to shield you from further harm, even in your unconscious state. As he gazes upon your sleeping form, fragments of memories flicker through Michael’s mind. Images of you as a child, innocent and untouched by the darkness that now envelopes you both, momentarily soften his gaze, perhaps even cause a subtle twitch at the corners of his mouth – a long-forgotten smile. You are his world. 

Ultimately, the weight of his desire to kill and the futility of his attempts to connect with you wash over Michael. With a heavy heart hidden beneath his iconic mask, he proceeds with the task at hand – sacrificing you to the Entity. With a solemn determination, Michael carries you to the hook, his obsession with killing eclipsing any semblance of any paternal sentiment.

[degenerata69]

Continuation from my prompt for time-travel-age-gap-AU-or-whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Meanwhile, Mullet Stanley gathered the courage to speak to teen Ford. It was awkward, Ford didn't want to believe him at first until there wasn't any doubt it was him. Horrorized by the sight and realization, he dragged Stanley to their bedroom for him to treat his wounds and create a plan. During these months, despite his anger, he couldn't help but wonder how his brother was doing. He convinced himself Stanley was a fighter and would survive, but reality struck him like a million bricks. He had a mullet for fucks sake.

Stanley smoked a Cuban cigar while explaining to Teen Ford everything that went down, how he'd lived in his car, the gangs, the scams, the violence but left out an important piece of information he'd figure the young and jealous Ford didn't need to know yet. He remembers that the first time Stanford topped was after school, Stan got compliments from a sweet girl in class, and Ford needed to "claim" him. He couldn't imagine telling him that around this time, he survived by hopping from motel rooms, bars, gas stations, and public bathrooms.

Teen Ford just stared at him, hugged him, cried profusely, and apologized for abandoning him, promising to fix it. One thing led to another, and Ford put his lips on Stanley. While Stanley craved this more than anything else, we wanted to give up. He shouldn't do it. He is hurting his brother, he cannot allow this. Not again.

~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•

Paranoid Stanford, like the past few months, was not thinking straight, he was pounding his little brother on top of his work desk. Probably ruining some projects along the way, he bit, spit, bruised, slapped, and fucked him, desperate for marking him, he couldn't believe Stanley was tainted by someone else, couldn't let that happen to this Stanley, he needed to make him his again.

~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~

It turned out, to the surprise of no one, that Stanley couldn't resist the temptation of fucking his twin. A few kisses on the neck and "But I want this" and that's what it took to have Ford jumping on his cock, burning the cigar to his flesh as Ford requested.

He knew Ford was a masochistic freak. When he got an A instead of an A+, he would ask the younger to fuck him without lube. It shouldn't be a surprise but he was astonished by Ford's insistence on being "punished"

~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~~•~•~

They enjoy the sex their younger selves were providing for them, forgetting anything else existed, they both finished at the same, hitting the post-coital blues while the teenagers clung to them.

Of course, the best thing to do was to fix the machine and send everyone to their original timeline. But was it? He couldn't count that past Ford would make up things with Stan before it was too late. He couldn't bear to imagine him sleeping another night alone. But what about his Stanley? Was he selling his body at this moment in time? He knew he had to make it up; he might be tainted, but it was his fault.

Stanley, in the meantime, knew that everything was set up in his favor; Stanford would forgive his past self, and they'd figure it out together, get a real job, and attend university with his twin and prevent him from doing whatever the hell was happening in the present. If time travel movies were depicting reality, as soon as he comes back to his timeline, everything would change and it would be the perfect world.

But what if it isn't? What if the Stan Twins from this dimension live happily ever after but he doesn't get the same? Ford is waiting for him to take a stupid journal to the other side of the world, could his mind be changed, or was he sending teenage Stanley on his way, all alone?

The teenagers purred, their heartbeats synchronizing with their adult counterparts.

There is no harm with one more week, right?

[seramilla]

(How DARE you post it when I promised I’d be good, now look at what you’ve made me do!!)

Lute may want to see Emily but…why?

Does Emily even want to see her right now??

It’s all just complicated.

Emily is with Odette and Clara when Sera comes to let her know Lute is awake and they spoke.

…And that she wants to see her.

Emily is very hesitant to get up and go. Her mind is racing with an endless stream of thoughts and questions.

Clara and Odette watch her carefully for any reaction at all when Clara speaks up.

“Do you want us to go with you? I can punch her in the face if she tries anything.”

Emily shakes her head breaking the trance she was in.

“No, thank you for the offer though. I think I can handle this.”

Emily gets up and follows her sister to the room and takes a deep breath as she grabs the handle.

Lute is sitting in the bedroom alone with her thoughts.

‘You idiot, why would she want to see YOU? You’re nothing but a vile DEMON that got her and her sister cast out of heaven. It’s all YOUR fault they needlessly suffered! You don’t deserve their kindness. Just look at what you’ve become. Now your outsides match your insides. No better than the very sinners you slew…’

“…shut up…”

It’s hard to breathe suddenly.

“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!!!”

Lute clutched and clawed at her head and pulls at her hair because pain would usually makes those thoughts get quiet again. She stared at her left arm and grabbed a patch of feathers and pulled….ripping them out right as Emily walks in.

Emily can only stare in shock and horror as she sees Lute tearing out a clump feathers.

“LUTE!!”

"Lute, stop!"

Lute doesn't listen. She keeps pulling, and pulling, until there is a patchwork of tiny pinpricks and golden blood marring her skin, like someone had taken a hole punch straight to her arm, leaving tiny, miniscule openings for blood to come through.

"Lute, please, you're hurting yourself!"

Emily pulls on Lute's opposite arm -- the angelic one, that can still fit so perfectly into the other angel's palm. She tugs when Lute tries to wrench it away from her again, to continue her relentless picking of feathers on her demon arm, but Emily is stronger than she looks. She holds Lute's hand to the bed, preventing her from causing more damage.

"Why do you care if I'm hurting myself?" Lute asks. She's trying to project anger, and that same stone-cold demeanor that Emily is used to. But Emily can see that the wall placed around herself is crumbling. This behavior, this blasé and no-care attitude, has always been a front. She can see that, more than ever now. Lute has always used it to hide the pain.

It's not an excuse, Emily reminds herself. It's never going to be a valid excuse to justify everything Lute has done. But it's an explanation. One she can understand...even if she doesn't support what it used to hide.

"Because I don't like to see anyone in pain," Emily says, holding her hand down tighter. "Even you. Even though I'm still...mad at you. I am still so livid, that I almost didn't come in here. What you did...it makes me so angry to even think about. I still haven't forgiven you, for everything you did! But..."

Emily observes Lute for what she is now. A decrepit, mangled creature, constantly fighting against her own will to survive, and wanting to inflict pain on herself. For what? To punish herself for past mistakes? That wasn't her call to make. To the people she'd wronged...this isn't justice. It's insanity! Two wrongs don't make a right...Lute torturing herself won't change what happened!

"...But?" Lute asks. She tries to make it sound disinterested; like she doesn't care. She fails spectacularly.

"But I never wanted this!" Emily clarifies, motioning to the whole of Lute's body to illustrate her point. "I would never want you to suffer like this!"

"Then what do you want?" Lute asks, turning her head away, and grunting as she tries to lie down. Emily can see it's hard for her to get comfortable. Lute won't look at her now.

"I wanted you to change. See that there could be another way," Emily explains. "Heaven made you do such awful, terrible things. Then told you it was okay, because it was for the Heavenly mandate. Heaven doesn't know everything! They get things wrong, sometimes! They were wrong about me! You could have stood up for me and Sera, but you didn't!"

Lute flinches away. She turns over on her good side, facing away from Emily. Emily can see how much it pains her to do so. But she doesn't let Lute's feigned indifference make her stop talking.

"I know you can hear me. You know I'm right. What I want, Lute...is to be able to forgive you someday. I didn't want to trade my suffering for yours. That doesn't solve anything and just perpetuates the cycle of pain. I just wanted you to see...see where I was coming from. I think now you have. I hope I can try to forgive you, but...you'll need to start learning to forgive yourself first."

Lute doesn't answer. She doesn't even acknowledge Emily's words, even though Emily knows she heard them. Emily apologizes, tells her to "Think about what I said, okay?," and turns away. As she leaves the room, she doesn't see Lute's shoulders quake with grief. She doesn't see Lute cry, as her tears mingle with the golden blood that's already stained her pillow, and wallow in her self pity even more.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Stronger together

---

<<Part 1

Part 2 to 'Don't make me choose'

Pairing: Miguel o'hara x reader

Word count: 800

Tags: @itzmeme @miatjie @juneonhoth

---

You slumped against a broken metal shelter on some roof. The world glowing around you with a goulish green hue as faint sirens haunted the far distance. Earth-42 wasn’t paradise, it was the opposite, without a guardian in this realm, crime was raging and rampant.

But this was where you tracked Miles to last before the little red dot that kept tab on him faded. Now you were stranded, not sure of how any of this could help in preventing what was to come. Instead you were hungry, tired, soaked wet by the rain and there was no other alternative to survive here. The battle within your mind was that, you only knew one number by heart.

Tapping the device in your hands as you thought through the outcome, you took the jump, to make the call and waited as it beeped searching for a connection. You prepared your mind in that moment, for the possibility that he wasn’t going to pick up or that he would deem you deserved this to confidently abandon you here as a form of punishment.

Two beeps in, the line was active, his voice cracking through as he called your name repeatedly, his tone soaked with worry.

“Can you hear me?”, the line stabilized and you held the device close to you, as though it was an extension of him.

“Are you al-alright?”, the connection was a bit sketchy as he asked you but before you could respond,

“Yes.”, you said desperately.

“Are you hurt?”, he bombarded you with questions, without waiting to hear your reply and it only made it more clearer that he had been trying to search for you without a clue as to where you had vanished. In the state you were in, it cut loose within you everything you had held back, when you were out here thinking of the worst, he was there desperate to get you back.

“Where are you?”, he continued.

“I’m sorry.”, was all that you could utter before you broke down into sobs.

“I’m sorry, Miguel. I was foolish.”, you rambled only to hear silence from the other end.

“Hey.”, he interrupted you, his voice tender and soft.

“I was at fault too.”, he sighed.

“I lost sight of us and our pledge to carry the responsibility of being a hero, succumbing to the fear of the past “, he explained, not a hint of anger in his voice.

“Where are you?”, he asked again.

“I’ll come get you.”, he said it with a sweetness that you realized when you were longing to get back home, you were just wanting to get back to him.

“Earth-42.”, you answered and there was a pique in interest as he mumbled.

“Earth-42? How did you track him there?”, he asked, you could practically hear the gears turn in his head as he tried to connect everything together.

“The transporter maps us to our universe based on our spider bite.”, you began to explain but he jumped in following your train of thought.

“and he was bit by an anomaly which in turns masks his genetic makeup when scanned.”, he finished your sentence and you couldn’t help but smile. He understood the way you worked and that could not be replaced with anyone else.

“Clever as always.”, he remarked but you could sense the smile with which he said it.

“My power is running down and I don’t know how long I can stay put here, this world is –

The whizz of the dimension portal startled you as it opened near where you were and in the pouring rain your heart skipped a beat as you saw his silhouette step out, his head moving from side to side as he scouted for you.

He called for you and you didn’t wait, springing up from where you hid to run to him.

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tight that he huffed bracing your impact. But the moment he felt your warmth, he held you close, placing his cheek on the top of your head, not worried about the rain or anything else.

“Te extrañé.”, he spoke into your ear.

“You're not angry with me?”, you mumbled into his chest to hear the soft reverb of his laugh.

“We’ve got to help him, Miguel.”, you said slowly and he nodded taking in the state of the world around, he brushed away the strands of hair that stuck to your face. He was making it clear now, that you ranked higher than those worries.

“I can’t stay mad at you for long.”, he tilted your chin up to see him and when your eyes locked, you knew that wherever you stood, with him, it was paradise. Even on earth-42.

“We’ll figure it out together.”, he gave you a knowing smile.

“Like we always do.”, he held your gaze, as if that was the core rule his universe operated on.

You were certain you would find a way to save Miles’s father, because when you and Miguel stood together, nothing could stand in your way.

“Now let’s go home.”, his hand slipped to yours and you wrapped your fingers around his.

[mystwrites]

Sneak Attack!

Summary: Douma notices Akaza looking upset after overhearing he got yelled at by Muzan and Kokushibo said some backhanded things to him. Deciding to cheer him up, Douma launches a sneaky tickle attack on his “best friend”

A/N: Day 13 of Tickletober! Enjoy another lazy drawing. Douma be looking kinda funky in my eyes but I was too lazy to fix him😂

It wasn’t unusual to see Akaza upset whenever he was called to the Infinity Castle. Douma and the others never failed to see him frowning or glaring at them anytime they met up. On this particular night however, Akaza was in a rather snappy mood, giving Daki some attitude and telling Gyutaro to fuck off when he asked what his problem was. Knowing Gyokko and Hantengu possibly knew what was making Akaza so angry, he decided to ask Upper Moons Four and Five.

“Eeeiiiyyy!! Douma!! Akaza was mad because Muzan sama yelled at him!” Hantengu cried, shivering behind Gyokko.

“It’s apparently because he still hasn’t located that stupid flower. None of us have and we all should be receiving the same punishment if you are to ask me.” Gyokko replied, shaking his head. “And you didn’t hear this from me, but when Akaza tried to suggest that the reason he couldn’t find it could be due to our inability to walk in the sun, Kokushibo sama ended up giving him a backhanded compliment that hurt Akaza dono dearly.”

It all made sense now. Douma knew Akaza was always acting tough, but the reason he did so was to hide how sensitive he actually was and how he was always seeking to please his superiors. A frown appeared on Douma’s face, deciding he wanted to try and cheer Akaza up since the treatment his superiors were giving him was unfair.

“I see.” Douma said, standing up and bowing. “Thank you Hantengu, Gyokko. I owe you for this.”

“Yeah, you owe us some tasty meals…” Gyokko muttered as he watched Upper Moon Two walk off.

As Douma walked off, he searched every room in the Infinity Castle for Akaza. After a while of searching, he found Akaza standing alone on a platform, simply staring off into space, his eyes unfocused but showing anger. What a pity it would be to anger him by deciding to bombard him with questions.

To Douma, nothing cheered up a demon than a playful tickle so he snuck up on Akaza, his fingers wiggling and his tiptoes as silent as a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. By the time he was directly behind Akaza, he smirked and was aware Akaza didn’t even comprehend another presence behind him.

“Surprise, Akaza dono!!” Douma shouted, his fingers grabbing Akaza’s sides and squeezing. “You seem upset so Tickle Demon Douma is here to cheer you up!”

Akaza let out a startled cry before the laughter eventually overtook him, his right hand grabbing Douma’s wrist and the other clamping down tightly to prevent the offending hands from going any higher. A series of curses and begs for Douma to stop escaped as his laughter grew, Akaza’s knees buckling upon feeling a squeeze under his ribs and fell to the floor, Douma following him down.

“Oop! And down we go!!” Douma laughed, continuing his tickle attack as he grabbed Akaza and pulled him close, holding him tightly against his chest.

Fingers flew all over his body, one minute squeezing his waist, then somehow worming their way under Akaza’s arms. Laughing harder by the second, Akaza threw a punch at Douma but wasn’t able to land a single blow. Kicking didn’t help either since Douma decided to squeeze at his thighs, the kicking coming to an end after Douma’s thumbs drilled into the center of his inner thighs.

“S-stohohop!! Ahahahaha!! Ohoh gohohosh ahahaha! Dohohouma!!!” Akaza cried, weakly shoving at Douma’s hands which were tightly clamped onto his thighs. “Why ahahare you tihihickling mehehe you ahahasshole?!?”

“Why am I tickling you? Because you looked upset and I heard Muzan sama blamed you again for not finding his stupid flower.” Douma replied, reaching down to try and tickle Akaza’s feet, giving up when a powerful kick nearly kicked his hand right off.

“Ihihit wahahasn’t my fahahault!!” Akaza whined, screaming as Douma tickled under his arms. “S-stop!! Stop! Stohohop!! Ahaha!! You ahahare pissihihing mehehe off!!”

“If you really wanted me to stop, you would’ve stopped me by now, Akaza dono.” Douma sang, tickling up and down Akaza’s sides. “Normally you let me know when you’ve had enough by kicking my stomach but you’re not doing that right now. I think you and I both know you need this distraction, especially after Kokushibo dono said hurtful words to you.”

“WHOHO TOHOHOLD YOU THAHAT?!?” Akaza cried, shocked to know that Douma knew what happened.

“Gyokko and Hantengu have all the details. They know what goes on around here, Akaza dono. That’s how I found out.” Douma replied, grinning as he held Akaza in his lap, tickling up and down his sides and laughing along as Akaza threw his head back, leaning on his shoulder. “Do not fear, Akaza dono! I know how to bring that smile to your face!”

“W-WHAAA?!?” Akaza squawked, shocked to know that the two gossipers seemed to know everything that was happening. “Ihihi swehehear Ihihi ahaham gohohonna kihihill thehem ahahand you!”

More threats were spewed out but eventually, Akaza stopped threatening and resorted to squirming so much that Douma lost his grip. Now on the floor, Akaza attempted to roll away only for Douma to grab his ankles and pull him back towards him, curses and threats escaping as Douma’s hands found his sides.

There was no real heat to Akaza’s words throughout the entire time Douma started tickling him. He was just upset about the incidents earlier and was startled by the sudden tickle attack. If anything, it seemed that Akaza was actually in need of this and decided to submit to Douma’s tickles, something that pleased Douma to say the least. He normally would keep fighting until he couldn’t but he gave up rather quickly, going limp after a few seconds of nonstop tickling.

Now curled up on the floor, Akaza screamed and laughed, Douma’s cold hands grabbing his ankles and straightening him out, holding his arms out to the side. Without hesitation, Douma pulled his arms up over his head and tickled Akaza’s armpits, the loud, hysterical yet adorable laughter from the striped demon bringing a fond and genuine smile to Douma’s face. Releasing Akaza’s arms, Douma tickled up and down his friend’s ribs, bringing out more of the bright giggles he always loved hearing. Akaza no longer fighting, resorted to squirming and flailing out of pure instinct, too ticklish to keep himself still.

Smiling, Douma paused to give Akaza a break. The demon gasped and coughed, relieved that the tickling had stopped briefly. He looked at Douma, his eyes only widening as he noticed those rainbow eyes eyeing out his stomach. Akaza knew what Douma was thinking, having received raspberries many time before.

“D-Douma…Douma don’t you fucking dare!!” Akaza growled, his face trying to remain angry but clearly failing as a wobbly smile appeared. “NO!! YOU ARE GOING TO FUCKING DIE!!”

Douma put his finger to Akaza’s lips, telling him to stop talking. Glaring at the blonde, Akaza opened his mouth to bite his fingers but quickly threw his head back as Douma clawed at his stomach, easily rendering him defenseless.

“Don’t make threats to me! I am your superior after all and I’m trying to be nice to you!” Douma growled playfully, making Akaza scream as he squeezed just below his ribs. “And don’t bite me!”

“IHIHI’LL BIHIHITE YOUR HAHAHAND OHOFF!! I SWE-AAAHAHAHAA!! STOP!! STOHOHOP!!” Akaza shouted, trying to shove Douma off of him, slowly growing weaker as Douma’s relentless tickles continued.

“Oh I’m not stopping.” Douma sang, his fingers crawling up Akaza’s sides, digging into each space between his ribs. “I’m trying to cheer you up and I won’t stop until I know you’re truly happy, Akaza dono!”

Pressing his full body weight onto Akaza to stop him from flailing like crazy, Douma skittered his fingers up to Akaza’s armpits, giggling as Akaza screamed loudly. Unable to escape, Akaza slowly grew weaker and weaker, submitting himself to Douma’s weird technique of cheering him up. Gasping as the tickling stopped, Akaza was about to sit up and glare at Douma but fell backwards once again, letting out a scream as lips were pressed against his bellybutton, a loud raspberry being blown.

Douma smiled, giggling as he pressed his lips to Akaza’s torso once more, blowing raspberry after raspberry over his entire stomach. He was well aware that this technique could potentially be crossing the line but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was able to tickle Akaza as well as cheer him up. Akaza soon fell silent, laughing so hard he couldn’t make anymore sounds. Douma giggled, his fingers gently scratching up and down his ribs.

“STOP!! D-DOHOUMA!! P-PLEHEHEASE!!” Akaza begged, his voice now weak from how hard he laughed. “PLEHEHEASE STOHOHOP!! IHIHI’M FEHEHEELING BEHEHETTER NOW!!”

“Are you? Or are you just saying that so I’ll stop tickling you?” Douma asked, his cheek resting on Akaza’s stomach while his fingers gently traced shapes along his sides.

“Ihihi’m seheherious!! NONONO!! AHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEASE!!” Akaza pleaded, weakly shoving Douma’s head away as he blew more raspberries on his stomach once more.

“Last one, I promise!” Douma said, grabbing Akaza’s wrists, smiling as he watched the muscles in his arms flex. “Last one for good measures!”

“Ugh!! I can’t stop you…fine…” Akaza grumbled, laughing as Douma blew as hard as he could onto his stomach, his head shaking to add more to the already ticklish sensations. “STAAAHAHAHAP!!”

Douma laughed, giving Akaza’s stomach a pat and helped his friend up, giving him a hug, expecting Akaza to punch him or shove him away violently, but the violent actions never came. Relieved, Douma let go and was about to walk away but was stopped by Akaza.

“T-thanks…I guess.” Akaza muttered, looking away.

“For what?” Douma asked.

“For cheering me up…or doing your best to do so since you lack emotional understanding.” he replied, suddenly grabbing Douma’s wrist and using his martial arts skills to flip the demon onto his back.

Hitting the floor, Douma gasped, the wind suddenly knocked out of him. Unable to process what happened, he suddenly squeaked as Akaza quickly sat on his waist.

“Ooh! Akaza dono! What’s gotten into you-OUUUUHUHU!! AHAHA!! OH NOHO!! OKAHAHAY!! OKAY!!” he cried, laughing hysterically the instant Akaza simply touched his waist.

“Jeez! I didn’t do anything to you yet!” Akaza laughed, an evil grin forming on his face. “This is payback for your little sneak attack bullshit!”

[thesupremeuziplushy]

J x MD!Reader - One push

Reader is GN

Warning, this is heavy angst. Might do a alternate happy ending one for this. TW: implied death, torture, not proof-read.

J’s arm shakes, the gun aimed directly at your head. No matter what she did, it wouldn’t move from its place, and neither would she. Heaving and sweating, all doubts she ever had run around in a whirlwind in her mind, scrambling her thoughts and messing with her programming. And yet through the chaos, her thoughts would always return to you. You, whom she loves with all her heart. The wounded you in front of her, knocking on death’s door.

J never hesitated. Never with a kill. Obeying the company, she’d kill any worker drones that crossed her path and punish all signs of deviancy in her team.So what happens if you’re the deviant?

In J’s head, you’ve betrayed the company. You’ve disobeyed their orders and questioned their intentions. You’re defective, like the workers. And the best course of action is to put you out to prevent you from wanting to harm the humans.

But in J's heart? You betrayed her. Stabbed the knife into her back and twisted and turned it at her most vulnerable state. Even if you never intended to hurt her, she was caught in the crossfire. And despite that, you continued, dragging the knife deeper down her back, watching her bleed. She thought seeing you bleed would make this easier. After all, she was only doing what you did to her, right?

Broken and shattered, there you lay in front of her, unable to move or regenerate. And yet you still managed to look up to her with pleading eyes. And still unmoving, J faces the consequence of her blinded rage. She didn't know whether saving you was even possible, and for a second she feared herself. Maybe, you would have been better off without her from the beginning. If she hadn't cared, you wouldn't be lying here.

"What are you waiting for?" Your once soft voice that would always calm J's nerves only added to her stress. "Do you want a goodbye kiss?"

Yes, is what she wanted to say. Pick you up and beg for anyone to help, even a worker. Anything to keep you alive and with her.

"Do what you have to do. I won't hate you for it." You smile meekly. "I could never."

"Yes, you do!" J couldn't belive that she'd still find her voice. "You hate me. Otherwise you would have never betrayed me." While her voice managed to keep her anger at bay, the feeling kept rising, slowly reaching it's limits. Her hand no longer shacking.

There she stood, on the edge. And all it needed was one push.

"J..." You muster any strength you have left to look up at her. "I love you"

And there was the push.

[klausinamarink]

In Thunder, Lightning, Or In Rain

rating: M | cw: major character death, mild gore | tags: witch Steve, necromancy, rituals, brief appearance of possessive Steve | wc: 992

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 20: Magic au

Despite the roar of thunder above him, Steve continued his trek into the woods. He stomped hard onto the still-fresh footprints of the crowd that had passed here. Beneath his boots, the ground smothered and turned the new trail into golden-red flecks of ember, floating towards the town by the growing winds.

The willow trees wept to Steve, their leaves brushing across his raised shoulders and wet cheeks. We tried to stop them. We heard his cries but we had done nothing. One older willow stopped him for a moment’s notice, pleading for his mercy. I offered shelter for you and your beloved but they burned my fingers when I reached out.

Steve forgave them all. You made your attempts but do not harm yourselves, he told them. The older willow tree wept again and let him go.

Lightning flashed in the sky. Steve sparsely caught his reflection on the bubbling creek. He looked disheveled. His hair was tangled in different directions, his clothes looked baggy, tears stained his cheeks, and his hands were already from gripping the shovel and ax for so long.

The creek with its minnows and newts lamented for him. We tried to stop them. We tried to drown them but they shoved his head into us. Our waters have always been refreshing to both of you so we couldn’t end him, even in his suffering.

Steve forgave them all. You were always kind and accommodating to us so do not poison your waters with your suffering, he told them and continued on his way.

As he reached the end of the trail, where the embers under his boots stopped burning at the tainted clearing, thunder and lightning embraced each other at once. Then it began to rain. Thick droplets landed on the new grave, twisting the torn up ground awake. They wailed to him.

They’ve hurt him. They hurt us. We tried to stop. But their feet trampled on us and spilled his blood like it was their precious alcohol. They’ve violated the grounds of your loving embraces into this.

Steve forgave them all. Please do not hurt yourselves, but take your revenge on anyone who trespassed here, he told them. The ruined ground wailed again, their cries going silent as Steve started digging.

They haven’t buried him too deep. When Steve saw why, his anger turned the thunder deafening.

They had cut Eddie’s body apart. His bloodied head was placed under his arm, which was missing a hand. His torso had chunks of flesh missing and was only attached to his legs by a single intestine. His feet looked like they had been broken by a hammer.

Steve kept his tears secure in his eyes, careful not to spill them onto Eddie’s remains as he tenderly lifted him out. Once his body was found whole, Steve wrapped him around a quilt like he was tucking in a child for a long journey.

Underneath his knees, the ground wailed again and turned angry, rolling down to the south. Steve stood up and picked up the ax again. The ground was already sinking a blond man, whom Steve recognized at once.

“Witch!” Jason Carver spat, his hair drenched on his forehead, “Release me and face punishment.”

Steve shed exactly three drops of tears as he raised the ax above him.

To revive a soul is to sacrifice a soul, no matter how good or wicked either may be.

—

In his secure and well-hidden covered wagon, Steve worked feverishly in the dark. He shook not with the cold, but with grief and exhaustion. He had rushed back to the town once the winds carried Dustin’s panicked news of the accusations against Eddie for suspected murder and witchcraft. But even though his return failed to prevent Eddie’s fate, Steve refused to let his beloved rot from such injustice.

The storm rattled on, contempt in his aid.

He finished the stitching, cutting the thread with his grandmother’s golden scissors. Then he took the moon-crescent silver knife and carved it into his left side. Steve focused onto the rapid plattering of the rain as the blade touched his sixth rib bone. Once the rib was cut, Steve dragged the knife so it slit easily through his flesh, allowing the bone to come out.

He gently placed his rob bone in Eddie’s hands, positioned to be crossed over his chest, right above where his heart would start again.

Steve lit the candles. Two on both sides of Eddie’s head and seven at his feet. Representing the two lives his lover will now have and the seven realms that gifted magic at every witch’s fingertips.

Steve placed his hands firmly on top of Eddie’s still chest. He sucked in a deep breath and, after hours of containment, finally screamed out his anguish.

In between the short pauses for air, Steve thought of every memory he had with Eddie. Their first run-in at the market, Eddie’s musical flirting, Steve growing a sunflower in between their cupped hands, their first lovemaking, and the very last kiss Eddie had given him when Steve had left.

The flames of the candles grew brighter and taller. Steve could no longer hear the thunder. His horrible cries filled the wagon more. He tasted the salt of tears as they fell onto Eddie’s unmoving face.

An ice-cold breeze passed through Steve’s body, silencing him. He dared not to look up, for no one knows what their own death would look like, even to the Foresights. He kept his eyes on Eddie, watching and waiting for the first sign of life.

A small light-blue wisp fled through Eddie’s lips. Then his eyes shot open, coughing and gasping for air. His chest finally heaved underneath Steve’s hands, though he only removed once he felt the confident heart beat.

As Steve held Eddie close and tight, thanking for his lover’s second chance, he Swore to him to never let Eddie escape his sight again.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Sweet S/O gets a cruel punishment

[ ONE-SHOT ] [ Nagito Komaeda ] [ Danganronpa 2 Goodbye Despair ]

⚠️ This contain a little bit of spoilers

This was requested by @sleepyone2three, thank you for requesting it!! The version of the other characters requested you can find it in the masterlist

Im so sorry!! Im a really simp for Nagito and I think i expressed it pretty well here, still I did my best and I really hope you enjoy it

It hurt me write this but at the same time i enjoy it like you have no idea 😭😭

The trip to that strange island was pretty weird, and still almost everyone seemed to don't care much about it and just want to enjoy it. Nagito being one of those who doesn't seem to care much, he knows that the island is kinda suspicious but he doesn't say much about it, just happy that his lucky give him the opportunity to enjoy of this trip with his amazing classmates, and more important, you, his beloved partner, the hope of his life

When Monokuma revealed his plan to everyone Nagito doesn't take it too bad, maybe blaming his bad luck but aside from that he just stays cheerful, saying that everyone will find a way to get out of there and with your own positivity helps others to stay positive and don't freak out immediatly, winning hope and motivation to continue

The first days, even when everyone were wary of the situation most of them were willing to work together, specially since Twogami take the role of the leader. However you know Nagito really well to know that he was acting different but he deny it anytime you ask him about it (also, he was more focused on your well-being as normally and he wasn't causing troubles yet, so you shouldn't worry so much)

But then the first trial came, everyone were really nervous since the party was supoused to prevent this but still everything become a mess in a second, mixed between investigate and don't fully believe what were happening you tried to cheer everyone to find the culprit, to don't let Twogami's death be in vain

Is probably you already suspect that this was by Nagito's hand but still when he revealed that he was the one who planned all the killing was pretty shocking. It has to be Hajime and you the ones calming everyone down and make them think clear before voting by anger towards him and condemning everyone

Nagito hated seeing you so worried about him but he has to continue to help you bring hope to everyone, he was planning to properly apologize to you for all what he has done after the trial but being attacked and chained stoped him from doing so

When the news of what they did to Nagito reached you you weren't happy, but as much you find their conduct reprehensible you understand why they are doing it, so you do your best to convince them to let him free, promising to personaly watch over him so he won't do anything bad again, and they accept it (a little hesitant but at least you will be able to free him from the chains)

Once you went where he was kept locked up he received you with his normal self depracating attitude, but just as always you treat him with nothing but love and sweetness, even after almost killing someone and making everyone fear him, even after making you worried sick of him possibly truly being the culprit you still greet him with a smile and even take time to ask him how he was. He apologize to you for everything he did, even calling him rude names but you just respond with your usual sweetness, scolding him for doing such thing but still don't leaving him alone, you even go as far and take care fo him, making sure the chains didn't hurt him, making him company while he take breakfast and making sure him propertly rest, even making sure that this time he do it in bed

Just as you promised you were making sure that Nagito doesn't plan anything weird and deal with others when they don't want to directly talk to him out of fear or anger (what he totally understand), or even defending him when you feel like others are just being unfair or overreacting about him (specially when the second trial come)

You don't let anyone opinion affect you nor even make you doubt him, not the rest of your classmates, not him, not even Monokuma have managed to make you doubt or lose hope and that is something Nagito admire and love, your unbrekable hope is giving him hope too, this is the hope he is searching for and he is sure that, even when you are stuck with him you still bring hope to others, you are the one who can truly make everyone bright with a beautiful hope and that is why he decided to just follow you and look after you, he doesn't has to try and give them a little push because you are the one giving them hope, he just need to help you, to be with you

However the killing game were just getting more and more difficult, with Monokuma bringing out new incentives and hints of things that just confuse everyone, just like the Future Fundation or the posibility of a traitor between them, and the more resent incentive were a problematic one

The despair disease is one that change the personality of the affected, turning them into someone completely different in some way, and unfortunately you were one of those affected, making you lose that sweet smile of yours that always decorated your lips or that soft eyes that could calm anyone, making you hold an annoyed expression like if you were mad for just even been there. That morning you greeted Nagito with an annoyed expression and just passing from him, like if talking to him were a waste of time and even when he think that of himself you never treated him like that before, you even scold him for treating himself like that

Everyone was surprised because some of them were acting really weird, and of course your change didn't went unoticed, your usual sweet words were vanished and replaced for bad comments and insults

In this case could be that Nagito were infected too, and since he is just lying and just doesn't shut up someone will have to separate the two of you before you start to fight with him for being so annoying and for being insulting you. However if is the case that he isn't infected he is really shocked about your change, and, as much as he believes that he deserve to be treaten like that he knows you will never do it, did someone did something to make you change? Did HE did something that made you mad? or is the work of Monokuma?

After Monokuma explained that all of this is an incentive and Mikan offering to take care of everyone, she took all the affected to the hospital but you take another road not really wanting to follow them and Nagito followed you, he wanted to make sure you were alright (even if he says the contrary), but right now he weren't doing anything aside from annoying you, you had even screamed at him, calling him a creppy and asking to leave you alone but Nagito just can't, he was growing desperate, where it goes his sweet partner? the one who had took care of him and loved him? The one that was full of hope?

But non of his questions will be answered because Monokuma came to you two, teasingly he ask what you where doing, weren't you supposed to be in the hospital? But right now you couldn't care less about that, not when Monokuma was finishing with the little patience you had behind, reaching your limit you end up screaming and hitting him with all the anger you have

If Nagito were fully in his senses he will tried to help you, and even when he tries his luck didn't helped him this time because you fate was marked when you threw that blow, Monokuma was annoyed by your actions but at the same time were happy to finally get out of the problem you are, so with all the excitement in the world he remember you the rules and before you could even say something he attacked you mercilessly, laughing while he just leave your body fall to the floor to wait the death

Nagito was devastaded, he wanted to help you but even when you were bleeding you still were angry, pushing him away even calling him usless, and he just accept it, Nagito just sit there watching you die in pain because he can't do anything, all your harsh words repeat in his head again and again like a broken record but this time he is starting to believe that he deserve it, he deserve to recive that threat from you because he is so usless that he can't even save you

Nagito blame himself for your death, he fully believes that it was because his bad luck, and even when he says to everyone that all of you just have to continue deep down the memory of you being rude is hunting him down, it doesn't let him alone when he is awake and when he is asleep. Nagito desperately wants to remember the sweet and hopeful you, but your annoyed and angry expression remember him that he doesn't deserve to be treated kindly

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Box Boy Universe Story: A Girl Called Spider Timeline: A ways into Rayce’s training

Crate [Prev | Next]

It doesn't take the full hour to satisfy Divya's anger, even though her injured hand continues to throb as an insistent reminder. Her trainee is a sweat-drenched, squirming mess. He's lost his voice from screaming. 

He's paying for his decision, and it soothes the bitter blaze of anger back to calm. 

She doesn't feel bad about venting. It's best to get the anger out now, in the first phase of punishment while it's appropriate. This is meant to be the Pet’s rock bottom, the nightmare he'll look back on and do anything to avoid in future. 

The next step is teaching him the lessons she foolishly let him convince her he'd already learned. And for that she needs to be calm, and he needs to be back on planet earth. 

But right now, after a less than optimal night, what she needs is more coffee. She catches the newest junior in the hall, and hands off responsibility to him for the time being.

Not that he's really a junior, he has four years of experience in… Romantics, if she recalls correctly? But he's new to S Wing, and that means reduced responsibility while they find out if he's a good fit for the somewhat less by-the-books environment. 

With his help she flips the trainee onto his front so that he's less likely to choke if he throws up again. They change the ring gag for a rubber bit – keeping a stick between his teeth to prevent biting during the changeover – so that he can drink. The ring comes away with blood on the stainless steel.

The Pet manages a few sips of water, sucked from a cloth. Only a little of it is dribbled onto the table. Divya helps the new guy double check all the straps. Then she takes her coffee break, confident that her trainee will be monitored while she’s gone.

She meets up with Rory just after ten as promised. Rory's brought a wire dog crate – and not a large one. You could probably get the animal confiscated for keeping anything bigger than a terrier in there. 

"I love these," Rory says. "Set them off the ground and any mess they make falls through, keeps them from breathing it or lying in it. And if you get the size right they don't have enough room to struggle and hurt themselves."

It takes a small team to fold the sobbing Pet into the crate. Sure enough, when he’s curled tightly over his knees his back very nearly touches the mesh at the top, and the sides keep his elbows close to his ribs.

Rory uses the straps round the top of the trainee’s calves to pull his knees wide, making plenty of room for his forehead to rest against the mesh between them. The straps fasten off to the sides of the crate. Wrists and elbows get secured to the front and top so that his arms pin his head in place. Ankles are secured on a short strap to the back edge. Once fully trussed up, there really aren’t a lot of ways for him to hurt himself. 

Then they heft the cage onto a pair of tables, one under each edge, and secure it firmly to both. 

"With a sober Dog I'd call this safe," Rory says, "but with this many pharms in the mix, I still want him checked every fifteen minutes. And give him fifty to a hundred mils of water each time, he's sweating like crazy. We can move to half-hourly as he starts to come down."

Divya takes responsibility for most of the check-ups. She is his primary, after all. And it's not a complex task. Check pulse, check that no part of him is going blue. Mostly just lay eyes on him and make sure he's not choking or seizing or dead. 

The Pet they pull from the crate at the end of the day is a boneless mannequin. He mewls a little as his knees drag across the mesh, as his compressed joints uncurl. Then he's quiet again, limp in Rory's arms.

"Isn't that an improvement." Rory's voice is soft, but he's not really talking to the dazed, empty-eyed Pet. "I think you're ready to be good now, don't you?" No response. The snitch’s mouth is slack around the rubber bit. "Divya, come sit with him. Remind him that he can be good."

"He's filthy," Hannah interjects, disgusted on Divya's behalf. "That's what the coveralls are for," Divya points out. "It's good for him to be disgusting right now. He'll beg me for a shower tomorrow."

It takes two to carry the trainee, despite the weight he's lost. The Guard Dog handlers are used to that. They sling him between them like a sack of potatoes, and Divya follows them to the lounge room.

It’s a white-walled training room much like the rest, but made up as a sparse stage set imitation of a lounge. There's a plush rug on the floor, where good Pets get to kneel instead of on the cold, hard tiles. There's a couch for the handlers – and for Romantics when they're invited, a coffee table, and little else – besides the screen set into the wall where a TV might be, protected by a plate of toughened glass. 

Divya sits on the couch, and her trainee is dumped into her lap. Rory grins at her, clearly pleased with himself. "I hope you're up for some overtime," he says, "I think your trainee needs some attention while he's nice and well-behaved." "I agree."

"I've asked Hertz to take over for the night shift – hand over to him when you're done here. I don't want the trainee sleeping tonight, but if it's gentle we should be able to get him back to the land of the living tomorrow. Then we can work on comprehension. Sound good?" "Sounds good." He tosses a bottle of water to her, and she only barely remembers not to try and catch. "I'll give you two some privacy then. Have a good night." “And you.”

Divya looks down at the Pet in her lap. He’s awake. If she waves her hand above him, his eyes track the motion. But other than that, he might as well be unconscious. He doesn't look at her, only through her. 

"You're going to be good now," she tells him, with the warmth of total confidence. He has no other option. "All you have to do is take what you're given. All you have to do is not fight me. It's as easy as that."

She runs her fingers through the greasy mess of his hair. No reaction. He's elsewhere, gone out of his head. That's fine, it suits their purposes right now. It makes him good.

"Good boy," she murmurs, cupping the side of his face. "Drink." He can't help but obey. "Good boy. You can be good, can't you now. Just lie still for me."

Slowly, gently, minimising the inevitable pain of touching his inflamed skin, she pets his neck. Then his chest, his arms, his stomach. It’s the same touch exercise he normally struggles so much with, just this time in slow motion and with him sprawled bonelessly across her lap.

He's still as a doll, and silent. The closest he comes to flinching is shivering lightly under Divya’s palms. Even when she fondles his crotch, he doesn't react in the slightest.

"Good," she tells him, over and over. "That's good. It's so easy, isn't it? So much easier than fighting. All you have to do is take what you're given."

Despite the touch, despite all the pain he’s still feeling, the Pet begins to fall asleep.

Divya is delighted. They agreed on no sleep, but this is entirely different. This is ideal, relief and reward paired with submission to his handler’s control and surrender of his boundaries. This is more important than the deprivation.

Besides, she won't let him have long. 

She keeps the touch continuous while he sleeps, roaming methodically up and down across his body. As boredom – and tiredness – start to set in, she moves one hand from the Pet to her phone and finds something to read while her other hand continues to move over his skin.

Every so often he twitches a little, dreaming.

Perhaps she loses track of time, because when Hertz eventually sticks a head round the door to check if everything’s okay, it’s almost ten o’ clock at night.

"Very much so," Divya replies. "But it is about time he woke up.” A yawn overtakes her, and she stifles it behind her phone. “... and I should really get home. Thanks for taking him," she adds, pushing the trainee off her lap. He falls limply in a pile of limbs. The hoarse, muffled sound of his startle comes two seconds after the impact with the floor. "I know sleep watch is tedious work." "Are you kidding?” Hertz returns. “It's a chance to put my feet up! I barely have to do a thing all shift. Favourite job, especially at night. " Divya laughs. "Each to their own. Have a good night, then."

She knows she will. She’ll sleep soundly tonight.

[Next]

[littleshiz]

Eng: I would like to tell you a little about Valtor in my fanfiction.

Do you remember the end of the third season? How stupidly did Valtor win? I love and adore this villain and often resented that he was so stupidly leaked.

So I came up with my own version of fighting him and how he was defeated!

I called the war with him the "Fiery Month". Although the war lasted 1.5 years)

After being released from Omega, he almost killed Trix, as they strongly resembled his mothers... But he decided to use the witches for his own purposes.

He was motivated by hatred. Hatred of their mothers, creators. Self-loathing that he can't disconnect from them, do what he wants, not them.

In this state, he destroyed many planets and kingdoms. Some were able to recover, but... Unfortunately, many people died.

Alphea, the Red Fountain, the Cloud Tower fell under his power. Winx, the specialists and their allies created a resistance unit, where the best of the best were. But few people had any hope, especially Bloom.

At some point, the Trix escaped from Valtor, not wanting to die by his hand in another fit of anger, where he communicates with his creators. (They often talked to him, humiliated him, and the like).

Only Icy and Stormy continued their atrocities, but Darcy... She decided to help. I decided to tell you at what point it would be better to grab the magician and win.

The great blacksmith Hagen created special shackles that close the magic inside the wearer, preventing him from casting spells.

The resistance squad managed it. Bloom was the one who shackled Valtor, and then the nearest warriors knocked out the magician, since he was conscious and could still hurt someone.

Princess Bloom (the current queen of Domino and Eraklion), wanted to kill the magician, but could not. Not because she was afraid to kill someone, but because Valtor is immortal. He is recovering quickly. Even if you cut off his head, he will survive. It will recover.

Valtor was placed in the most guarded prison on the planet. To the Punishment Cell. There, the prisoners are in a small room all the time. They are being watched by five or six of the best warriors, who, if anything, will be able to stop the rebels. The prisoners are monitored 24/7, and no one will ever be able to escape from there.

At the moment, Valtor, almost thirty years in prison, is going crazy because of the voices of mothers. They hate him, they say that they should have killed him, not created a Dragon out of Fire. It was necessary to take his life while it could still be done.

What will happen next? Something interesting, because Valtor is not alone in the Punishment Cell... He has an older half-brother who has been there much longer than the younger one...

The older half-brother is the native child of Belladonna (the witch of the dark cold, sort of). His name is Albert and he is... Much crazier than the youngest, but, unlike him, does not suffer from the voices of his mother and "dear" aunts.

I hope you enjoyed a little digression into this story ^^

Русский: Хотела бы немного рассказать о Валтора в своём фанфике.

Помните окончание третьего сезона? Как глупо победили Валтора? Я люблю, обожаю этого злодея и часто негодовала, что его так глупо слили.

Поэтому я придумала свою версию борьбы с ним и как его победили!

Войну с ним я назвала "Огненный месяц". Хотя длилась война 1,5 года)

После освобождения из Омеги, он чуть не убил Трикс, так как те сильно напоминали его матерей... Но он решил использовать ведьм в своих целях.

Им двигала ненависть. Ненависть к своим матерям, создательницам. Ненависть к самому себе, что он не может отсоединиться от них, делать то, что он сам хочет, а не они.

В таком состоянии он уничтожил множество планет и королевст. Какие-то смогли восстановиться, но... К сожалению, множество людей погибло.

Алфея, Красный Фонтан, Облачная башня пали под его силой. Винкс, специалисты и их союзники создали отряд сопротивления, где были лучшие из лучших. Но надежды мало у кого оставалось, особенно у Блум.

В какой-то момент Трикс сбежали от Валтора, не желая умереть от его руки в очередном приступе гнева, где он общается со своими создательницами. (Они часто с ним говорили, унижали и тому подобное).

Только вот Айси и Сторми продолжили свои злодеяния, но Дарси... Она решила помочь. Решила рассказать, в какой момент будет лучше схватить мага и победить.

Великий кузнец Хаген создал специальные кандалы, которые закрывают магию внутри носителя, не давая ему колдовать.

Отряд сопротивления справился. Блум была той, кто сковал в кандалы Валтора, а после ближайшие воины вырубили мага, так как он был в сознании и до сих пор мог кому-нибудь навредить.

Принцесса Блум (нынешняя королева Домино и Эраклиона), хотела убить мага, но не смогла. Не потому, что она боялась убить кого-то, а потому что Валтор бессмертен. Он быстро восстанавливается. Даже если отрубить ему голову, он выживет. Восстановится.

Валтора поместили в самую охраняемую тюрьму-планету. В Карцер. Там заключённые находятся в маленькой комнате всё своё время. За ними следят по пять-шесть лучших воинов, которые, в случае чего, смогут остановить бунтовщиков. За заключёнными следят 24/7, от туда никто и никогда не сможет сбежать.

В данный момент, Валтор, почти тридцать лет заключения, сходит с ума из-за голосов матерей. Они ненавидят его, говорят, что надо было убить его, не создавать из Огня Дракона. Надо было лишить его жизни, пока это ещё можно было сделать.

Что будет дальше? Кое-что интересное, ведь Валтор заключён в Карцере не один... У него есть старший сводный брат, который сидит там куда дольше младшего...

Старший сводный брат является родным ребёнком Белладонны (ведьма тёмного холода, вроде). Его зовут Альберт и он... Куда безумнее младшего, но, в отличае от него, не страдает от голосов матери и "дорогих" тётушек.

Надеюсь, вам понравился небольшой экскурс в данную историю ^^

[gamerbearmira]

Coma AU part 2

Isabela had been an inconsolable mess of tears ever since the accident. She ran to her room the second she finally processed what happened and she when she felt Abuela grab her arm she panicked. Her upper arm was bruised horribly, the red ring of fingerprints wrapped around her made her shake. It was only a matter of time before she opened that door and she had to face what she had done.

The image of her baby sister's tear-stained, fearful face haunted her every time she closed her eyes. She didn’t mean to. She really didn’t. She panicked. Mirabel had all that stuff packed, and she was about to walk out the door, she didn’t know what else to do. At first, all she was going to do was use her vines to grab her and pull her back, but she just snapped. She just blacked out. She didn't mean to do all that, but when she heard Abuela scream, she instinctively retracted her vines. Every time Abuela screamed at her, her first instinct was to immediately stop what she was doing, and turn all her attention to Abuela, or she’d get in even more trouble.

She only wanted to stop her, she never meant for all that other stuff to happen. She doesn’t even remember half of what happened, she blacked out when her vines reached Mirabel.

Isabela release one more loud, ugly wail, the kind that would make Abuela look at her in disgust. She was truly sorry. Sorry for everything.

Isabela’s door creaked open, revealing an eerily silent Abuela, who was radiating fury. Isabela shot up from her bed and stood. Abuela’s face was neutral, with her anger just barely concealed. She looked Isabela down and started walking towards her. Isabela wracked with worry and terror, began begging. “I’m so sorry, Abuela! I didn’t mean to! I just meant to grab her, and-and, I don’t know, I just blacked out. I have no excuse, I am so sorry. Is she okay? Is she awake?” By the time she was done with her rambling, Abuela was standing in front of her, looking at her with a cold, angered expression. Isabela shrunk under her gaze and curled in on herself. “I’m so sorry, Mirabel.”

Isabela cried and never looked up. “Do you know what you have done?” Abuela's voice was calm but harsh, cutting through the tense air. “Do you know the damage you have done to your sister?” Isabela remained quiet. “Do you understand how hurt your sister is right now? You could have killed her!” Still she was silent. Isabela didn’t dare look up at her grandmother. She knew what she had was unforgivable.

“You will be punished accordingly. Your courtship with Mariano will continue, but you are forbidden from using your powers unless I specifically say so. You are confined to the walls of Casita, and until Mirabel wakes up you are to stay away from her, to prevent any more of these ‘blackouts.’”

Isabela continued to spew apologies. She sank to the floor after her knees gave out. She wailed so loud Abuela recoiled in disgust. “You have no right to cry! Your sister is in her bed with a shattered arm and collarbone, fighting for her life!” Isabela stopped and looked up at her grandmother with wide red eyes. “What?”

Abuela sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mirabel is in a coma. Because of the injury to her head, she will be unconscious for the unforeseen further. Your mother is unable to heal her.” Isabela cried out her sister's name and clenched her stomach. She was horrible. A terrible sister. She didn’t deserve Mirabel. She had been nothing but mean and catty towards her. Jealousy blinded her.

Abuela scowled at her oldest grandchild, and rage overtook her. She reared her hand back and brought it down hard on Isabela’s cheek, knocking her to the ground. Isabela yelped in shock and looked up at her grandmother in shock, her hand held on the red mark on her cheek.

“You have no right to shed tears. Your sister could die and it will be all your fault! You’re lucky your mother wasn’t there to see what you did. They think she fell from the roof, and as far as they know it will remain that way.”

Isabela just stared at the old woman in shock and horror. She… lied? She lied to mama? “Why? Why would you do that? Why would you lie?”

“To save you and prevent more stress on your mother. What would the town think if they found you were the cause of your sister's near fatal injury. You would be shunned, ostracized. Our family's reputation will be shot. Your reputation will never be the same. I am doing this for our family. The least you can do after the trouble you’ve caused is be silent and follow orders.”

Isabela could only just stare. This was wrong. So wrong. “But what about Mirabel? When she wakes up, she’ll tell the truth. We need to tell mama.” Abuela shot her a harsh look, “you will stay silent about this. Mirabel won’t say a word. I will handle that,l. You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone or so help me, Isabela.”

Isabela shuddered in fear. She wanted to say no and run out the door and tell the truth to the whole family, but she knew just by the way Abuela was looking at her, it was better for her to stay silent. Her cheek still stung from the slap. “Yes, Abuela.”

Nodded and started her way back to the door, but stopped l. “Isabela. Don’t disappoint me.” And with that she was gone. Isabela sat on the floor, her hand on her cheek. This is wrong. This was so wrong. She stared at the door and silently cried.

She wishes she had run away with Mirabel when she had the chance.

NO...NO BOTH OF YOU ARE IN THE WRONG DAWG...

Like for one. Why tf is Alma not properly handling it. Idgaf how good or bad your reputation is, I GUARANTEE it can't be as important as the health and wellbeing of a family member. Like. Please fess up. It worse when you try and hide the wrong that you did, because it finally comes to light, everyones like. You lied. And then tried to cover it up. And then Isabella your telling me she can't stand up this old woman. Like what is gonna do??? She's two wrong steps away from going into cardiac arrest GO CONFESS ALREADY

Its like a lawsuit waiting to happen ,💀

[leuchtstabrebell]

Whumptober Day 4 / Prompt: Shock

It did not rain often in Mos Espa. Some years it did not rain at all.

But Anakin remembers how he could feel a coming storm in his bones, remembers the sweet metallic taste in the air before a thunderstorm. When the storms came, they rained down on Tatooine with a mighty, violent force that seemed to shake the world itself. His mother used to say that it was a cause for celebration because the storm made them all equal. Even the masters could not rule over lightning and thunder.

The smell of ozone used to mean reckoning.

It doesn’t anymore.

Palpatine does not use force lightning often to punish Vader – after all, the machinery keeping him alive is vulnerable to that sort of thing, and it is so bothersome to have to keep replacing fried circuits and broken parts. However, he has no such concerns about torturing Luke or Leia with it. So of course, when Anakin tells them about the mighty storms, about the sacred rains, about the sublime sight of lightning striking the earth, they look at him with disbelief and even some sort of envy. He can’t bare it. Instead, he tells his children other stories from his childhood, about silent defiance, about chain-breakers and cruel masters, and of course they understand those much better. He never tells them that on Tatooine, children born to a free mother are also free. It feels too much like mockery.

Anakin doesn’t know what it was this time – a failed mission, suboptimal performance in training or simply perceived disobedience but in the end, it doesn’t really matter. If Sidious wants to hurt them, he will find a reason, and there is little that could prevent him from doing so. When the twins were small, Anakin used to be able to redirect some of his master’s ire. He hasn’t done that in a long time, hasn’t even seen them much in the past three years. They’ve become adults while Palpatine sent Vader through the Galaxy to do his bidding. They’re fifteen already. Stars, they’re only fifteen. Vader had begged and pleaded to see his children for a few days and Palpatine had finally relented, which means that this time, he is there to witness the aftermath of Palpatine’s increased cruelty. Fifteen is old enough to bear the pain with dignity, after all.

When Luke comes stumbling in, Leia draped over his shoulder and struggling to support them both, he rushes to their side instantly. At first, he thinks it must have only been her this time. She is whimpering in pain, and her muscles keep spasming and she can’t really walk. Then he sees the fine tremors still running through his son, the sweat on his brow, and he feels a deep and horrible ache and anger dwell. He pushes it down. It is neither the time nor the place.

“Sit down Luke,” he rumbles, taking Leia from her brother and placing her carefully on the floor, her back leaning against the wall. Her muscles are still contracting but she is conscious. There are no burns, there never are if Palpatine doesn’t want them to be there, and with Leia and Luke being semi-public figures he cannot afford too many obvious injuries.

“Is your shoulder dislocated again?” Luke asks, sitting down carefully beside her. His breath is still labored, and he seems to occasionally suppress sounds of pain but other than that, he seems, well, not fine, but at least not badly injured. Vader is so focused on watching them that the words only register a few moments later. He didn’t even know that she had been electrocuted that badly the last time. They must have dealt with it themselves. It makes sense – there is no use in whining, and you should never let your Master hear you complain. Lessons he taught them well.

Leia has closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the white wall, while her body continues to move painfully in small spasms. Still, she looks almost nonchalant.

“Father, could you get me that book I left laying on the table this morning?” Luke asks, with pained boredom in his voice. Anakin recognizes that tone far too well, and for a moment he looks at his children, shaking on the floor and he cannot move. The moment passes. He leaves to bring Luke that book.