#but then they got older and things went downhill

[smolstarthief]

So this is incredibly random as a HC but... Sumire having freckles as she got older but covered them up to further emulate Kasumi anyone??? Just something to contrast Kasumi having a beauty mark and thought she would look adorable too!

[limethefirst]

Void Runners Pt. 1

pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader

warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, blood, the normal deadpooly stuff

summary: Reader has been trapped in the void for a few months now, after getting into trouble with the TVA, when they suddenly stumble upon a Deadpool and a Wolverine.

Part 2

a/n: if this gets popular enough I might write a part two, I'm having Deadpool and Wolverine brainrot, also this is unedited so pls tell me if you see mistakes

It had been 4 months since you had been sent to the Void; the apocalyptic like plain, becoming what you had accepted as your new home.

You were a time traveler, that had accidently messed up some big event and that caused the TVA to come and take care of you. You weren't sure what the big event was, something about some saving some rich guys parents. You thought you were doing a good thing by it but apparently not.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter anymore, you were now stuck here. You'd been alone most of the time, sometimes seeing other people but you had learned quickly into your stay that these others were part of this group formed by Cassandra Nova, an insanely powerful woman who you never dared cross paths with.

Until unfortunately today.

Sadly you stumbled upon the wrong people at the wrong time. As you were walking through the dusty plains, you saw two men falling from the sky, thinking back on your heroic days you felt obligated to help out. That was not the best idea, you tried to go up to the men but instead they started arguing when a fight suddenly broke out between them. By the time the fight had ended you had blood all over your (as clean as they can be in the void) shoes.

"Augh, I just cleaned these too." Is what seemed to snap the men out of whatever had just happened.

"Oh my gosh! How long has the movie been out? Five days, and we are already getting reader inserts? Wow!" The man in the red mask said to no one in particular, "And what might your name be sunshine?"

"Uh Y/N, are you guys okay, you seem to be stabbed in a lot of places?" You answered a bit concerned after seeing two men almost tear each other apart.

"Oh this? Sorry, my partner here has weird kinks-" The strange man is cut off by the other seemingly older man punching him in the jaw. "See what I mean kiddo?"

"Enough Wade." The older man gruffed, his arms crossing as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Whatever you say sugar cube!" The man known as Wade looked back at you, "Oh you must be wondering who we are huh! Well this hairy beast of a man is the one and only Wolverine, and I am your friendly neighbor Deadpool!" Wolverine looked at you and sighed at the at his 'partners' antics.

From there things only went downhill, and that is how you were stuck with them being hauled off to Cassandra Nova's lair.

"Awee are we having a flashback already?!" Deadpool's annoying voice rang from in front of you. Currently you were stuck in a ball like cage with, Johnny Storm, Wolverine and Deadpool.

Johnny began to explain to the men where we were all headed, going over the basics of who were about to meet and the type of woman Cassandra was. You looked a bit ahead as you noticed you were already here.

As you guys had come to a stop you saw the others being throw out of the cage, you held up your chained hands to the man before they could throw you as well, "I got it, thanks" jumping out before you got tossed as well.

At the same time you got down you heard Deadpool's odd comment, "Huh, Paul Rudd finally aged." You turned down at the man slightly and gave him a quick look of confusion unsure what he was talking about; his partner seemingly unphased by the comment, most likely used to it.

Looking ahead ignoring the bickering next happening to your right, you saw what seemed to be a bald woman in the mouth of the giant skull. As the dust cleared you could see her get up from the wheelchair she was sitting on, "What was the point of the wheelchair.." You dully commented.

Deadpool adding on, "Oh ableism great, that's not gonna go over well with the Woke mob!"

You looked at your surroundings, no longer caring about the scene unfolding before you, Deadpool began to talk with Cassandra, somehow coming up on the topic of a coke, loving roommate.

After a bit more talking between the two you hear Deadpool slandering Cassandra, and then telling her it was all Johnny who said it. This brought back your attention just in time to see Johnny's skin ripped from his skeleton.

"Not my favorite Chris." Deadpool says, not having much remorse for the scene in front of him.

"You piece of shit you just got him fucking killed." Wolverine adds, pointing at the remains of Johnny.

"Awe I kinda liked him," You mumbled to yourself, as Wolverine looked at you with a look of discouragement on his face, almost as if saying not to get Deadpool started with this.

"Hey we are all grieving," Deadpool yells, "He doesn't know what he was doing to the budget." He mumbled the last part.

Cassandra ignored his words and walked past the group, "Shush, Alioth's hungry."

"There must be some kind of mistake," Deadpool started again, "Big yellow is an anchor being and I'm Marvel Jesus, MJ if you're nasty." Cassandra turned her head a little as you stood next to them listening to their story, not getting the chance to hear it earlier. "This may be hard to hear but there's another British villain, he's gonna destroy my universe and I'm gonna stop him."

"Oh honey you don't really strike me as the world saving type." Cassandra answered him, this seemed to upset the laidback man. You watched as he seemed to straighten himself up hearing that. "Did I hit a nerve?" She turns back, almost sarcastically.

"I didn't want it to come to this," Deadpool says, "Either you help us or my friend here is gonna sing the entire second act of Music Man with no warm up"

You look at him confused, "What the hell is that?"

"Where'd you get the chair?" Wolverine asks Cassandra as she walks back towards the skull.

She quickly answers, "Every once in a while we get a Charles here, never mind though, he didn't care to find me."

Deadpool leans back seemingly annoyed, "Ughh Gen Z and their trauma bragging!" He shoots you a quick glance, "Can't you just stuff it down and turn it into a cancer like the rest of us?"

"But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together." A light smile graced Cassandra's face as she watches you guys.

You watch their exchange a little more before you notice the purple mist coming up behind you guys slowly getting closer. As you turn back around you see Wolverine getting dragged through the ground and Deadpool backing up.

"I am so not with them." You tell Cassandra hoping that doesn't happen to you.

"Oh yes they are." Deadpool fires back, making sure he isn't next. Unfortunately for him he was, you watched as Cassandra got behind him and put her fingers in his head.

She began to whisper something and within the next minute she let go. Deadpool shook his head and started rambling yet again, "You are so mean! I could taste your fingers! They taste like hate, and where in God's name is the intimacy coordinator?!"

"You're so lost Mr Wilson, long before you came here." Cassandra told him.

He took out his knife and held it up, "This is baby knife, she's gonna fuck you in the face now."

Cassandra looked at the knife at back at him, "If you're going to kill me it's going to take more then a little blade."

"How about six?" Before she could say anything else, Wolverine came up behind her and stabbed her with his claws.

"Holy shit" You said covering your mouth.

Before you could celebrate, Cassandra began laughing and fell from the claws, "This has been fun but the big guy needs to eat and the rent is due." She turned around walking away as a looming shadow of darkness rose above the skeleton you were in.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything people had scattered and Deadpool grabbed you and hoisted you up over his shoulder taking you towards the machine Wolverine was trying to fix for an escape.

You hadn't a second to say anything because the next thing you knew, you were being taken with them hopefully away from the giant monster.

[lucysarah-c]

Fifteen, what an age to be alive. Dad!Levi

Summary: Steal your father's car! What could go wrong? Author note: Since the Marley world seemed to be around the 30s-40s, I’ll set this idea in a world that looks like the mid-50s. This is POST WAR. Warnings: Cursing 'cause Levi, obv. And slightly mention of a group taking advantage of a girl, nothing really happens and there's no graphic description at all. Word count: 3.9k Pairing: Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

His hands gripped the big round wheel of the car as his eyes scanned the dark night with a nervous smile, quickly turning into clenched teeth. His attention shifted to the passenger seat, soft as if it was a scene from one of the horror pictures he saw at the drive-in.

A light blond girl lay unconscious, her head resting against the door, appearing lifeless. She wore a typical sleeveless red button-up shirt and very short white shorts, with white socks crumpled down to double-coloured loafers. Her hair was still in a ponytail, exposing her face completely. It was August, plain summer break, and he knew that most of his classmates wore shorts or even swimsuits at the pool or beach. But somehow, her exposure made him blush and feel ashamed, as if even staring felt wrong.

Turning to the back seat of the car, he picked up his letterman jacket and placed it on top of her, covering her as much as possible. It looked big on her, and somehow, Adrien blessed every deity mentioned; he probably was inheriting his father’s uncle’s height and not his father's, a fact becoming rather obvious every day, as he was only 15 and already almost 1.80m.

“Calm down, Adie… you got this,” he whispered to himself, “I’ve no idea what I'm going to do but I got it.”

How did he get into this situation? It was supposed to be a silly night out; one of his friends invited him to a party of the seniors who were graduating from high school that year. What was the issue if he was just a freshman? Fifteen, eighteen, it’s the same! Plus, it was some party at some old forgotten building, half destroyed during the rumbling around ten years ago, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing wrong with that.

Yes, perhaps he stole his father’s keys and car. Yes, perhaps he lied about sleeping in his room. Yes, maybe he stole a bit (a lot) of money from his parents. “I mean… deep down, it’s my father’s fault for not allowing me to come legally,” Adrien argued with his own reflection in the car's mirror.

But everything went downhill when he saw a group of guys dragging a girl who was clearly not feeling well and decided to step in. Now, here he was, the party had turned into a mess as the fight happened, he got kicked out with an unconscious girl, and who knew what they had given her. He hit his forehead against the wheel as time slipped through his fingers; he was supposed to be back home already.

“Fucking shit! Who told me to step in!” he cursed under his breath. Deep down, he knew stepping up for what he had been told was horrendously wrong, knowing he had the strength to fight those assholes back. ‘The curse of being a fucking Ackerman, man,’ he thought.

He had done the right thing, at least one right thing during the entire night, but now he had to face the consequences. Muffled cries mixed with distressed groans filled the car, “My father is going to kill me!”

His forehead kept hitting the wheel repeatedly as if that would knock some common sense into him or perhaps give him a concussion and fake that he had been kidnapped or something. Surrounded by trees in a dead-end road, it wasn’t even paved. Only the footprints of multiple cars to follow back to civilization. The distressed teen didn’t even know where he was; his older friend had guided him there and left with his girlfriend at some point of the party.

Slowly raising his head up again to admire the endless kilometres of dim nothing, contemplating his options, seizing his courage. “Come on, Adie. Be a man, be a man!”

The trees’ branches creaked in the middle of the night, the car slightly swayed under the strong summer wind. “I want my mommy,” he muttered.

Hand on the wheel and turning on the car, one step at a time, he took a deep breath and then decided to go out on the road again. Forgotten somewhere, his father’s car’s papers and driver's license. In them it read “Levi Ackerman.”

Each branch from the forest that scraped the car was a personal pain, praying to any god's existence that it didn’t scratch it. Of course, his father had filled up the tank, obviously he had. Levi was like that, always cautious. Adrien did a personal wish his father had a map stored in the glove compartment, but obviously, he didn’t. After all, Levi knew the streets of the city like the back of his hand. He drove a lot, especially since his legs weren’t what they used to be anymore. Perhaps he didn’t need any support for walking any longer, but walking long distances wasn’t in Levi’s plans anymore.

“Perhaps I can… drive to the hospital, leave her, and like run away,” he contemplated, before groaning loudly, “No, I can’t do that. God, I’m dead.”

‘I could have walked away, but no, Mr. Adrien Ackerman has to be a hero. Mr. Ackerman has to do the right thing.’

Adrien had driven twice in his life; this one was the second. The first was a few years ago when his father sat him down on his lap and let him do it for a little bit. He was happy he hadn’t encountered much traffic and only had to drive ahead because he wasn’t completely sure yet what the third pedal was for.

“I got it, do not worry,” he said, trying to sound reassuring to the unmoving girl on his right. Adrien’s grey eyes checked on her from time to time, but she seemed deeply asleep, or so he hoped. “I’ll get to the hospital in no time, and you’ll be alright,” he promised.

His smile created a couple of dimples on each side of his face, but it quickly faded as fear kicked in. “And if you’re not alright, do not worry. I’ll throw myself off a bridge, and we can be not alright together,” he kept joking as if, by some miracle, the girl would reply.

He didn’t even know her name, and somehow, that made him feel even guiltier. As civilization began to appear and the sky began to lighten up, he lost hope of not dying at the hands of his own progenitor, but he was also hopeful that at least he was getting somewhere without crashing. The sun hadn’t shown up yet, but the deep blue of the sky had a particular glow to it that made it imminent.

The streets were deserted, and rightfully so; it was the middle of the night on a Monday. Adrien tried to park the car as best as he could, finally reaching the only hospital he somehow remembered the route to. Rushing to the other door, he carefully picked her up.

When he crossed the doors of the main hospital, which was almost empty at those hours, the doctors on duty quickly took her in, some searching for identifications inside her clothes. The police officer at the front gates forbade him from leaving the place.

“Alright, please hand me your ID,” the front gate secretary asked after informing him that the girl was out of danger, but she would have to stay for monitoring. Adrien’s suspicious silence made the woman raise her eyes from the form she was filling out to look at him. “You know that carrying IDs is obligatory, right?”

“Yes, madam…” He felt his palm sweating as he feared being taken to the police station.

“How old are you?”

Her voice sounded calm but tired as she quickly understood the issue, “… eighteen.”

With a loud sigh, she took off her cat-eye red glasses and then slowly blinked back at him. “Look kid, I’ve been on night watch for three days straight. I’ve no energy to deal with this.”

Adrien’s eyes remained glued to the floor, feeling small despite his stature. “… fifteen,” he admitted reluctantly.

Her unpleasant groans echoed in the empty walls that reeked of disinfectant. He slowly turned to the gates, and the security guys began to chuckle as they drank coffee. Feeling the need to clarify, he said, “I swear it wasn’t me who hurt her.”

“Kid, people who drug girls don’t carry them to hospitals,” she replied disinterestedly, pouring the information into the typewriter, the typing echoing in the place. Finally, she picked up a post-it with a pencil and raised it to the top of the reception table. “Your parents' contact number, please.”

Her eyes quickly moved to him and then back to her writing as he hesitated to fill out the paper. “You know I’ve done nothing; can’t I just go?” Adrien insisted, trying to escape the situation.

“Kid, you’re breaking national curfew and walking around without identification. A responsible adult must come and sign for you to leave; otherwise, you’ll live here until you turn 18.”

“Could you at least wait until 9 am to call my mother’s work number?” He smiled awkwardly, trying to find a way to avoid his father’s rage. The secretary looked up at the clock; it wasn’t even 5 am and then back to him, deadly. Unpleasant complaining groans echoed as he reluctantly wrote his house’s telephone number. “Sorry.”

Sat down at one of those uncomfortable waiting room’s seats with a latte and chocolate donut he brought at the cafeteria, he waited as someone waits to be hanged. The doctors and nurses moved here and there attending to the few people that came in with emergencies. Until the secretary walked by and said, “Your father picked up the phone; he said that getting the car and coming this way.”

Adrien’s grey eyes quickly turned in fear to check out of the window, grimacing uneasily as he admired the family's car parked outside. “Great…”

The longer it took, the more Adrien knew he was in trouble. Pressing his eyes closed and clenching his jaw, as if he could already feel the kick in his ass. Despite the nerves, his head bobbed forward as he fell asleep, and the tug of falling forward snapped him back awake. At some point, he rested his head on the joined seat and fell asleep, mouth open.

The front gates snapping open woke him up, and he wished to make himself smaller so he could hide behind the back of the seats. But as he turned backwards, Levi was at the front desk talking to the secretary and security guards. His dark hair was a mess, and it seemed like he had just put on some shoes and a shirt because he still had the pyjama pants on. Outside, the cap that his father had probably been forced to take there.

As the secretary picked up the forms for him to fill, his father quickly raised his grey eyes to shoot him across the room the deadliest glance he had yet to witness. ‘Goodbye everybody, it was nice knowing you.’

Avoiding facing death, Adrien remained seated, giving his back, but he quickly heard the footsteps of his father, characterized by the slight hobble he had after the war. With his presence looming, he looked down at Adrien, who slowly raised his attention up.

Smiling innocently, “Hi, dad.”

Levi didn’t smile back; quite the opposite, he frowned even more and extended his right hand that was missing two fingers. “My fucking keys.”

The teen searched for them inside his jeans and quietly handed them over with puppy eyes. Levi snapped them, but his hand didn’t withdraw. “And my damn money.” Repeating the same action but with the bills, Levi grabbed them and began to count. “And the rest?”

Adrien mumbled some incoherent groans as he refused to make eye contact. “Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue and gripped his shirt neck, raising him from his seat, pushing him to the exit. “Get in the fucking car.”

The walk of shame only accentuated as his father's angry tone didn’t match the polite one he used to greet the secretary and guards on his way out. He cowered in the passenger seat, trying to make himself a tiny ball as Levi slammed the door shut. Loud sighs that didn’t withdraw the deep frown before he turned on the car again.

“You’re so fucking wrong if you think I’ll stand this type of behaviour; I'm telling you,” Levi spat the words as he drove back home. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Adrien!” Levi insisted as the kid didn’t even reply, looking to his right as he waited at a red light. “You don’t want to talk? Fine, fucking ungrateful brat. You know how fucking worried your mother was when we received a call from the shitty hospital? Eh?”

“The drive-in the other day, the supposed hang out at your friend’s house that you were never fucking there, and now this. Are you fucking proud?” the ex-captain of the scouts kept going as his eyes were glued to the road despite only one of them working anymore. “You’re grounded, you’re so fucking grounded that I’ll fucking die, and you’ll have to get a damn Ouija board to contact me to see if you can go out to buy groceries.”

The teen just silently rolled his eyes as the long list of unhappiness of his father about his behaviour couldn’t care less. “Don’t you dare to roll your eyes on me, brat. You heard me? Drop that fucking attitude.” Somehow his father always seemed to have eyes everywhere. “Happy now? You ruined your entire summer break; beg all you want later on. You’re not leaving the house.”

“As if you’d let me go out anyway,” Adrien murmured mockingly under his breath.

“What?” Levi demanded. “If you’re going to have the guts to steal MY car, MY money, and break MY orders, then grow the guts to speak the fuck up.”

“That you never let me go anywhere!” Adrien shouted back angrily.

“For what? To go to this damn party in the middle of nowhere to hang out with fucking rapists and get

shit-faced?” Levi argued back. “You think I was born yesterday? I know exactly which places I don’t want you to get involved with. You think you’ve everything figured out, but that’s not it, Adrien! You’re 14! Fourteen!”

“I’m fifteen!”

“You turned fifteen two weeks ago, for fuck’s sake!” Levi shouted, slightly turning to his right before focusing back on the road. “I’m telling you, better fix your attitude or this is not going to end well. You may be getting big and feel cocky, but you won’t play smart-ass with me. You can grow up to be as tall as the fucking Colossal Titan, and yet you would do whatever the fuck I tell you!”

“I did the right thing! I stood up for her; I’m not stupid enough to do whatever my classmates do. Why can’t you see that?!” Adrien complained as they reached the front of the house, and Levi stopped the car.

“’Cause you were stupid enough to steal my car even when you don’t know how to fucking drive!” Levi complained as he got out of the car, walking to the front door. He kept going with the lecture but lower as he didn’t want to wake up the neighbours. “You don’t like it? Choose another father in your next life; in this one, it’s me, and I’m not going to let my teenage kid not give a fuck about the decisions I take. I’ve gone through too much shit for a fucking brat to tell me what I believe is the best for them.”

They both walked in, and Levi locked the door behind them. The room was still dim for the early hours, and their dog greeted them enthusiastically. The keys dropping at the front plate echoed loudly, and the tuxedo cat of the family finally appeared to rub himself against the legs of the teen, who quietly picked him up. Y/N quickly rushed to check on her kid.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you somewhere?” She seemed clearly agitated, and Adrien remained with his eyes glued to the floor.

“No, mom,” he murmured, downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Oi, to your damn room,” Levi quickly ordered. “and clean it up; I won’t say it again.”

The kid left, cursing under his breath as he went upstairs and slammed the front door shut.

“What happened?” she asked Levi, who was preparing himself a tea to calm down, enveloping herself in a negligee.

“What happened? That kid is driving me nuts, that’s what's happening,”

Y/N sighed loudly, positioning herself behind her husband and running her hands through his arms, seeking to provide some comfort. She then switched to hugging him from behind. “He’s going through a phase… his new classmates are mostly kids who survived the rumbling, and some of them aren’t the best influence. He just wants to fit in, you know how important that is at his age.”

“Tch,” Levi kept facing the countertop, murmuring as the anger didn’t quickly wash away. But eventually, he closed his eyes and sighed loudly as the adrenaline slowed down. “The audacity of that kid, where the hell does he get it?”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle against his back, “MH, I wonder,” she said sarcastically. “If they were still around, perhaps we could have asked some senior MPs… perhaps they could enlighten us on how you were as a teen,”

“I wasn’t like that,” Levi softly replied, almost ashamed of the point out.

“No haha you were worse,” Y/N was entertained as she kissed his shoulder blades tenderly. “Or do I have to remind you how you made me sneak out to meet you after curfew?”

“That’s different…”

Forcing him to turn around to place a kiss on his scar as she caressed his face softly, “He’s your kid,” she murmured against his lips. “He hates to be told what to do and has the strength to know he can get out of almost any situation. Asking him to be submissive is like asking him not to be an Ackerman; he got it in his genes,”

Levi just groaned, accepting the caress, her loving his face as if he was brand new and the residues of the war had never happened.

Days passed by, and while the mood in the house was slowly returning to calmness, the punishment still stood, and Adrien was reading in his bedroom, suffering the heat of summer without being able to go out with his friends. He couldn’t even play his record player because if in normal cases his father tolerated him to play his favourite bands loudly, now he was almost cursed to quietness. Levi didn’t seem to be very fond of Rock; perhaps Paradise music was too behind, and the period of adaptation was lacking. It sounded like loud noise to him.

A quiet knock at the front door was heard, mostly because the dog that was resting beside him in his bed raised hastily and rushed downstairs. The noise was almost imperceptible as his father was vacuuming the living room’s carpet while his mother prepared dinner. Adrien was about to raise himself from his bed and open the door himself, but the overwhelmingly loud noise of the vacuum stopped, so he guessed his father was on it.

Levi opened the front door without checking; he had faced so many adversities in life that he hardly doubted that anyone who rang his bell at 6 pm on a Thursday in their quiet family neighbourhood was a threat. “Yes?” he crossed his arms as he admired the young girl at the front gates. She was wearing the usual outfit of the time, white and brown loafers, crumpled low white socks, an inflated pastel yellow skirt that was tightly around her waist with a white blouse. The matching light cardigan was hanging from her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to put it on, another thing that Levi thought was some stupid new fashion trend from teens. That and his son’s imperious necessity to fold the sleeves of his t-shirts. High ponytail and blushed cheeks.

“Good evening, Mr. Ackerman,” The girl greeted him with kindness and politeness.

“Hello,” Levi replied, almost uninterested, his usual unfriendly nature not withdrawn even after years of not being on service.

“I was wondering if Adrien is at home,” she asked, and Levi wished he could roll his eyes at how almost immediately the girl blushed at the mention of his son’s name. “I’m the girl from the other night; I wanted to thank him…” seeing Levi’s slight frown at the memory of that early morning, she nervously added, “And you, of course, for what he did for me,” The young girl handed a package that was easily deduced to be a cake.

“He’s grounded,” Levi quickly replied. “And you don’t need to thank him; he did the only right thing to do. I don’t raise abusers,”

“Oh…” the disappointment in her voice was palpable, “Well, but please at least take the cake? For all the inconvenience,”

“No, kid, it’s alright-”

“Hi, sweetie! Adrien will be down in a minute!” Y/N popped behind Levi, slightly pushing him to the side and smiling softly at the girl. “Do you want to wait inside?”

Levi looked at his wife, confused and slightly offended by how quickly she overstepped him in the conversation.

“Ah, no, it’s alright; I don’t want to be a bother-”

Adrien appeared behind his parents, wondering what the whole issue was, and his mother quickly pushed him forward. “There he is!” She added while tugging Levi back inside. “Let’s give him some space,” she whispered to her husband, who was refusing to move.

“Oi,” Levi complained as he was forced back inside.

Both parents faking to be doing something in the living room to not be seen; Levi wasn’t spying, but his wife was. “She’s so cute,” she whispered, “and she’s crushing so much on him.”

Levi clicked his tongue, “He’s tall. All girls of that age crush on tall boys,” he argued back.

Y/N chuckled and turned to look at him, “talking from experience?”

“Ha ha,” Levi faked a sarcastic laugh. “He’s supposed to be grounded,”

“Shh, I can’t hear!” She hushed him back and then moved slightly as Levi joined her next to the window.

“Great,” Levi said annoyed, “she’s fucking bonnie,”

Confusion was written all over his wife's face as she grimaced dazed and raised an eyebrow, silently asking how those words could be said with such disappointment.

“Now I won’t only have to buy him all those stupid vinyl records, textbooks, and uniforms for the school team, but I’ll also have to start buying condoms; there goes my fucking salary,”

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[ssavaart]

Sometimes You Have to Make 100 BAD Drawings To Get 1 GOOD One

(Earlier this year, a publisher asked me if I'd be interested in writing a book on art. As we discussed it... they asked me to "give it a try" and this is one of two tests I did. I don't consider myself a writer, really, so this is just "in my own voice". I wound up turning down the offer... but would love to know your thoughts on this. Thanks)

Drawing something good. Something you like. It’s… elusive. Especially when you’re just starting out.

But, here’s the thing. You have good art in you. I promise. You just have to get to it and it’s stuck under a bunch of bad art. Really bad art.

When I was younger, I would draw every day. Filling up sketchbooks with doodles and sketches and I hated ALL of them.

Page 01: Crap

Page 02: Crap

Page 03: Crap

Page 04: Worse than Crap

Page 05: What even is that?

Page 06: Ugh

And it was just downhill from there…

But… somewhere around like page 100… I made something that… “wasn’t crap”. I actually didn’t hate it.

And that gave me courage to keep going. That one drawing made it all worth it. I was cured. I was now an expert. All of my art would be great from now on.

Oh… if only.

The next drawing was worse than any other drawing before it.

How??? I just made ART! like 5 minutes before that. I got all the bad drawings out! How did my art just go from Van Gogh to Van NO???

Honestly? I… got lucky. That one good drawing? Total fluke. Dumb luck. Sheer Happenstance.

Doing 100 drawings didn’t suddenly make me an expert. It couldn’t.

Have you ever heard of the saying “If a million monkeys type on a million typewriters for a million years, they’ll eventually write Shakespeare”?

I was those monkeys and that drawing was my Shakespeare.

I just pooped out enough bad art that eventually sheer luck was going to mean I may make something really good.

And I’m TOTALLY okay with that. I was 11. I’m not a prodigy. I don’t have any special gifts. But what I did have was… a taste for how making good art felt.

Seeing that one good drawing made me want more. Like my first time tasting chocolate ice cream. I was hooked.

So, I made 100 more bad drawings. Maybe more. And, guess what? ANOTHER great drawing emerged!

Another Shakespeare from this 11 year old monkey!!!! Huzzah!

From then on… I knew that all I had to do was keep banging away at that typewriter (I’m still on the million monkey thing… bear with me) and I would get rewarded with another masterpiece.

Week after week. Month after month. I would fill up my sketchbooks with the most horrific, amateurish, incomprehensible art… and, sure enough, 1 of every 100 drawings would not suck.

I would show it to my mom and she would say “Oh! That’s wonderful!” and when she tried to turn the pages to see more, I would quickly SNATCH it out of her hands and run back into the shadows like Gollum hiding his “Precious” from prying eyes.

I dare not let her see the monstrosities that came before the work of genius.

And… this went on. For years. Predictably. Rhythmically.

Until, one day… my 75th drawing was really good.

How? It was 25 drawings early! That’s not how it was supposed to work. That wasn’t the plan.

But there it was. A really amazing drawing of a spaceship I came up with out of my head. It had lasers and a cockpit and wings and…It was glorious. And it was totally unexpected.

Maybe NOW I was an expert and I no longer needed to make bad art? Would today be the day I would only make masterpieces?

I quickly turned the page and began to draw what would soon be my second greatest work of art and… NOPE.

Still crap.

Hm. But… something was different. It was still crap. But… it wasn’t as “crappy” as the other crap.

I grabbed my previous sketchbooks and looked at the bad drawings from previous years and… guess what? My older bad drawings were WORSE than my newer bad drawings!

Apparently, the more I drew… the better my BAD drawings got too.   

Okay. So. I drew 75 more “not as crappy” bad drawings and… predictably… I made another great drawing!

I was… IMPROVING.

This went on for years. I went to high school. Then art school. I hated MOST of my art… but as I practiced… the number of BAD art I had to make to get to the GOOD art got lower and lower. Soon it was 50 bad pieces for 1 good one. Then 25. Then 10.

It took decades when I noticed… I liked my art more often than not.

It was a complete surprise. I was in my 40’s when this happened. I was SO conditioned to just accept I was going to hate my art that I hadn’t noticed that I had made 5 paintings that didn’t suck. IN A ROW!!!

Unheard of!

But, there it was. 5 good paintings. One right after the other.

The 6th one was complete trash. Tossed it in the garbage.

But, the 7th one? I liked. And the 8th. And the 9th.

I’m now 54 and I know I still have SO much bad art in me. I can feel it. Always ready to pop up and ruin my day.

But, I “pooped out” so much bad art over the years that I’m not really worried about those pop up bad art surprises. I know it’s just temporary.

I like my art now. And that’s because I got MOST of the bad art out of me and into those old sketchbooks.

I know it may seem daunting doing 100 bad drawings just to get to 1 good one. But… if you love that feeling of making that one GOOD piece of art… you need to be patient and get the bad ones out. They’re blocking the good ones. Keeping them deep inside you.

So, crack open that sketchbook. Poop out those bad pieces of art and never look back.

You’ll thank me in like 40 years or so. I promise.

(Oh. And sorry for all the poop references. I’m still that 11 year old when it comes to humor)

Poop.

[samkerrworshipper]

Medication - Leah Williamson

fluff, little bit of angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of depression, 3500 words

balled my eyes out to black fridays by tom odell and then this was birthed.

blurb:

your a rookie on the lionesses squad, who suffers from anxiety and when you stop taking your meds after learning you are starting a game in the euros everything goes downhill for you.

i am so sorry for how vague this was lol i’m writing this and publishing at 2:30 in the morning

I’d never liked gamedays. Everything felt different, all the feelings and emotions heightened. The pressure was insurmountable, especially when you are playing for your nation. Especially when you are one of the youngest, one of the least experienced, one of the youngsters. Today, we were playing Norway, my first game as a Lioness where I was a part of the starting line-up. It was a must win game, the stakes were high for us to win these Euro’s, especially considering it was a home euro’s for us. If we wanted to progress to the finals we couldn’t lose, the pressure was on.

I’d understood that as soon as I’d been notified that I was to start the match, understood that everything changed as soon as you were actually on the pitch. Our one point win over Austria had been great, but we were all hungrier for more, hungrier for the points that we needed to get us ahead in the competition. Sarina knew that there was an expectation for us to win, we all knew that.

I’d been feeling it all week, feeling the anxiety thrumming through my veins as we practised and went about our normal routine for the week. Something was different, it was my first year as a senior Lioness and I’d never been named as a starter. That was a big deal, a really big deal. That was all I could think about. What if I fucked it up? What if I messed up and they told me that I wasn’t going to be welcome back. What if Sarina saw me on the pitch and thought that I was worthless, useless, bad. That was all I could think about as we were standing in the tunnel getting ready to walk out. I was sandwiched in between Lucy and Beth. My hands shaking in my pockets and my breath quickening subconsciously. If I wasn’t aware of it then apparently the defender behind me was, because just as we were about to walk out I felt one of her hands fall to my shoulder, pulling me back into her just enough for her to be able to press her mouth to my ear and whisper,

“You’ve got this amore, you’re going to do perfectly fine,” Lucy’s voice was so strong, but so comforting. She was like an older sister to me, and had been since my first day at training camp. She had been the first person to believe in me besides my Arsenal teammates, the first person to really advocate for my future. She was also the first person on the Lionesses team besides Leah to learn about my struggles with anxiety, adhd and depression. She’d been a light in my life, texted me to make sure I was keeping up with my medication, or just to check in.

In the wake of the Euro’s I’d stopped taking my anxiety meds. I took Lorazepam, which worked really well for me, but it also tended to make me really drowsy and fatigued. Things that are not ideal when you are training and playing almost everyday for your country. It had positive effects, I definitely found it a lot easier to train and play my hardest, but there were a lot of negatives. Like how I was feeling right now. Like my heart was going to beat out of my chest, my hands getting clammy with sweat and shaking non stop like I’d just shot up on steroids. The sound of the crowd at Brighton didn’t help either as we walked out onto the pitch. I struggled to get through the national anthem and the pre game pleasantries, my chest and body hurting from the anxiety that was building up inside of my body.

I was grateful but also not to step out on the pitch properly. It felt like I was on a different planet, my senses overly heightened and my brain short circuiting almost everything.

I could feel Leah’s gaze on me as we all lined up to start the game, she worried about me, a lot. I was also her Arsenal teammate and she’d taken me under her wing beyond football, we’d become very close in our time spent together. I ignored her sidewards glances though, tasking myself with showing our nation that I deserved to be where I was and some jitters weren’t going to affect that.

My first half was rocky, normally with the mixture of adrenaline and endorphins my anxiety subsided when I started playing but this time I must have been too far gone, too much pent up anxiety built up for it to just fade away. It reflected in how I was playing, but our forwards had been flawless, slotting in six goals which put us in a lead that was pretty much untouchable. Clambering into the rooms at halftime was a charade. Everyone besides myself seemed ecstatic and hyped about our lead, I was on the inside but I was also wrapped up in my own bubble. I took a seat on the floor of the change rooms, taking in Serena’s speech about keeping our heads and just continuing what we were doing. I allowed Lucy to pass me a drink bottle, obliging her request for me to hydrate myself. She could tell something was up, she’d been hovering around me on the pitch, covering me. When one of the Norwegian girls had taken my feet out from under me she had immediately been at my side, pulling me up and then yelling at the umpire about how it had clearly been a foul if not a yellow. Leah had to pull her away just to ensure Lucy wouldn’t get carded herself, all whilst I stood there absolutely helpless as result of the amount of effort I was having to put into not collapsing from the amount of pain in my chest.

Leah kept it pretty brief after Serena, sticking to what she’d said and putting an emphasis on a few things before we headed back out. She managed to snag a grip on my jersey though as I trailed with the girls at the back of the group.

“Are you okay?” There was a little bit of captain in it, but it was mostly gentle, her voice a little bit rugged from the amount of yelling she’d done on the field.

“I’m fine.” Her facial expression was enough to tell me she didn’t believe a word I was saying.

“I’m telling Serena to sub you off, you clearly don’t look well enough to be playing.”

“I told you I feel fine Cap, I can play out the rest of the 90, please let me play it out.”

Leah looked conflicted, conflicted with what to do and how to react to my plea. I wasn’t one who begged very often, I didn’t see the point in it.

“Fine but y/n, as soon as anything happens out there, you put yourself in danger or someone else in danger you are going off, understood?”

I didn’t have any other option but to nod at Leah.

“Yes, captain.”

My voice had held some sarcasm as I tore her hand from the bottom of my jersey and started jogging back up the tunnel to catch up with girls that I’d previously been chatting to.

The last ten minutes of the second half was when bad transitioned to really not good. My body began to catch up with my over exertion and every second on the field became a battle. It was a blessing that the ball wasn’t really travelling down my end, Less and Toony had both been substituted in and were having a field day in our forward half kicking it back and forth to run the clock down. The Norwegian girls were giving it their best but you could tell they knew it was over. As the minutes passed though and we went into extra time I could feel my body really starting to get heavier, you could blame it on the lack of hydration and the english heat that we were playing in but I knew it was my body betraying me. I’d been denying my body for too long and it was catching up with me. I didn’t even know how many minutes of extra time we had, my vision was slowly blurring, my steps becoming wobbly and the pain in my chest becoming overbearing.

I could hear my opponent, I think it was Maren, or was it Guro? Asking me if I felt alright. I didn’t really comprehend it though, I couldn’t hear anything properly, it felt like I was underwater, my ears ringing out and my vision blacking over as I fell face first into the turf. Maren managed to catch me before I fully face planted into the grass, helping my limp form down to the ground before starting to yell out for help. It was then of course that the whistles blew and the match ended. I could make out the sounds of the crowd going nuts, maybe even my teammates on the sidelines yelling in triumph. I couldn’t open my eyes though and I definitely couldn’t make out the voice of Maren on the ground beside me trying to ask me questions and attract the attention of a medic. It was all mellowed out as my body succumbed to a coma like state that I’d forced myself into.

Leah and Lucy were the first two from my own team to locate me, passed out on the ground with Maren trying to provide as much privacy for me as possible whilst also pressing her hand to my throat to make sure that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong. It was Maren, Guro had been subbed off at the 84’ minute mark. I remembered that because I’d silently been wishing at the time that Serena would do the same, but she’d made her final changes and taking me off apparently hadn't been one of them.

“Y/n, can you open your eyes for me? Or squeeze my hand?”

I could feel Leah’s own hand fall into mine and I squeezed it as best as I could, it was enough for me to tell her that I was conscious enough to make out what she was saying to me.

“Good y/n/n, the medics are about to be here, can you try and open your eyes and talk for me?”

I tried my hardest to crack my eyes open, when I did finally muster up the will to open one of them I was met with the brightness of the stadium lights. I groaned almost immediately, being forced to take in my surroundings. I was surrounded by our trainers, who were draping different towels over my body in an attempt to cool me down and cover me. My cleats had been removed from my feet and someone was soaking my socks in cold water, something that I was not pleased to be awakened by.

“Good sweetheart, stay focused on me yeah, eyes on me.”

My eyes snapped back up to Leah, who was crouched above my head, Serena and Lucy’s heads were beside her own, staring down at me.

“The medics are going to come look at you and you are going to let them, okay?”

I almost immediately shook my head at Leah but she kept her jaw clenched and her stern face up.

“I’m not asking y/n, you just passed out on the field, you need to be assessed.”

I shook my head again and Leah rolled her eyes at me.

“An-n-xiety.”

I could hardly make out my own words in the stadium full of noise and the words themselves made me realise how much I was struggling to regulate my own breaths.

Leah nodded knowingly, suddenly everything seemed to come into perspective for her.

“You stopped taking your medication, didn’t you?”

I gulped and nodded at her, trying to block out all of the distractions that were happening around me. She looked annoyed at me, I cowered a little bit with the glare that she was giving me. After the last time I went on a sabbatical from my medication I swore to Leah I would never do it again.

As the medics crouched down next to me I shut my eyes again, it all becoming too much for my head. I let the medics fuss over me, I blacked out somewhere in between them putting me on a stretcher and getting me off the pitch.

I reawakened with sweat dripping down my body, all of the oxygen depleting from my body and my chest aching like it never had before. I choked a little bit as I sat up from my spot, gasping for air to enter my lungs. It took me a few seconds to recognise where I was, sitting inside the makeshift medical room at Brighton. My head was pounding and my whole body was aching.

“Y/n, look at me, you're having an anxiety attack, deep breaths.”

“Wh-what.” The words came out in a gasp as I struggled to take in any air, looking at Leah for guidance.

“We’re at Brighton, we just played Norway, you had an anxiety episode on the pitch. You’re having an attack right now, I need you to take deep breaths, follow me, in and out.”

I watched Leah as she exaggerated some deep breaths, if it hadn't been for the circumstance I probably would have laughed at her.

As I slowly started to take in more air she tried a different tactic.

“Good y/n/n, your doing so well my good girl. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

It was deflection, something that Leah had picked up on from her therapist.

“Serena, you, the light, Lucy and a drink bottle.”

Leah nodded at me encouragingly, rubbing slowly up my back as she continued.

“Good, you’re doing so well, how about four things you can feel?”

“Your breath, the scratchy blanket, my wet socks and I don’t know.”

My words were still choken as I used up whatever oxygen I was taking in to get the words out.

“That’s okay, that’s good, you are doing so well for me angel, how about three things you can hear?”

I tried to focus fully on Leah, on her words, her rubbing my back, her breath against my neck.

“Serena tapping her shoe, the heart monitor and the music from the changeroom.”

It was faint but if you focused in enough you could just hear the sound of my teammates in the change rooms, getting up to god knows that with the absence of their captain and manager.

“Perfect, you are doing absolutely perfectly. How about two things you can smell?”

“Antiseptic and your perfume.”

“Good, last one, one thing you can taste.”

I could feel my breath and body evening itself out, it felt like I was a piece of linen that was slowly but surely being ironed out, all of the crinkles and creases leaving my body.

“I don’t know.”

“Last one y/n, I know you can do it.”

“Metal, the iron taste from blood.”

Leah nodded at me, plastering a kiss on my forehead. Her words and actions being enough to bring me back down to earth fully. I very slowly took in my surroundings properly, Serena, Lucy and Keira were all sitting at the end of my bed, watching as Leah did her thing. I was hooked up to a few different things, cords and wires poking out of my extremities. A saline drip, heart monitor and another machine that I wasn’t sure the purpose of.

“Hey my girl, you back here with us now?”

I pushed my head into Leah’s chest, trying to hide from the world that I was now a participating member of.

“No hiding, not here,”

I groaned as Leah pushed me out of her chest, annoyed by the loss of contact and the confrontation of having to be put in front of some of the people I respected most.

“You gave us a fright back there, I think you came close to killing Maren.”

I gulped nervously, hanging onto every word that left Serena’s mouth, just bobbing my head in agreement because what else was I supposed to do.

“M’ sorry, didn’t mean to, just wanted to prove that I deserved to be here.”

Serena’s face held a kind of understanding, like she’d seen girls before me who had been the same, willing to die to prove their worth to the dutchwoman who we all regarded so highly.

“You wouldn’t be here in the first place if you didn’t deserve to be. It’s one thing to push yourself but to the point where you black out on the field is another thing. If it ever happens again y/n y/l/n then I can swear to you now that you will be benched, am I understood.” I nodded meekly at Serena,

“Yes ma’am.”

She nodded at me, she’d gotten her point across.

“Leah tells me this happened as a result of you not taking your medication?”

I pushed my head back into Leah’s chest, grunting at her when she pushed me out of it. I couldn’t do much else but nod at Serena.

“I get side effects ma’am, it makes me drowsy and sleepy, I didn’t want it to affect my game.”

Serena was very quick to fire back at me,

“You take medication to ensure that you feel well, there is no shame in that. If you are having a problem with side effects then you are to bring it up with one of our doctors, not boycott your medication entirely. From now on I am going to be responsible for your medication, you will come to me everyday to take it so I can ensure that you are receiving the correct doses so something like this does not occur again, is that understood?”

I gulped and nodded at Serena. She smiled at me knowingly in return.

“You are an elite athlete y/n, it is imperative that you care for your body. Or something like this happens, something with such magnitude that it can’t be overlooked. Your health and wellbeing comes first, always.”

I nodded at Serena once again, allowing her to give me a hug before leaving the room to give us some privacy. As soon as the door closed behind her I shed a few tears, I hated confrontation, it was one of my biggest fears.

“She’s right y’know, this could have been a lot worse, what if you’d put yourself in a really dangerous position because you were in a bad headspace and ended up seriously injured, you can’t just stop taking your medication randomly y/n, it’s not safe.”

Leah’s voice was murmured against my forehead, her lips staying plastered to the oily and cold skin.

“No one else on the team relies on medication to function, I thought I would be fine, I feel so stupid always being the one having to rely on shit to get through the day.”

I could feel Leah rolling her eyes from above me.

“No one else on the team struggles with intense anxiety and depression like you do, we are all different, we all function differently. There is no shame in needing medication y/n/n, Lucy uses an asthma puffer, does that make her stupid?”

I looked over at Lucy, it was different.

“No but it’s different.”

“How?”

Leah’s answer was fired back at me and I struggled slightly to recover from her sudden reply,

“Lucy has a physical problem, mine’s just in my head.”

“What you went through today seemed pretty physical to me.”

I was stumped by that answer, looking across at Kiera and Lucy who nodded along with what Leah was saying.

“You struggle with your mental health, there is no shame in that. You rely on medication. So what? Good for you for listening to your body and acknowledging that you need that to help you make it through the day. Y/n, there is absolutely nothing wrong with using medication to help you. If I felt sick, with the flu, and I needed antibiotics or whatever, would you think that I was weak for using them?”

I shook my head at Leah almost immediately, the question was a no brainer for me,

“Exactly, because I’d be taking the medication needed to keep me well and functioning. All you are doing is the same thing y/n, keeping yourself alive and well.”

[baalzebufo]

some additional doodles and a Lot of Headcanons... sorry if im spamming these a little bit. ive got so many thoughts in my head, lmao

theres my older pacifica- after weirdmageddon, her and gideon become friends. theyre both sort of ostracized from the town as a whole bc of their past attitudes/actions so they cling together and become buds. its nice having someone else who 'gets' it.

pacifica moved out as soon as she could to get away from her folks and has a job at a local mall. gideon enables her to enjoy at least SOME of her old luxuries by taking her shopping and to get their nails done together and stuff. also his prison buddies help ''kindly persuade'' her parents not to break her enforced no-contact rule from time to time. i know the two have the bitchiest gossip in the entire town together. sometimes when its hard to be 'nice' they know they can at least vent to the other and they wont get judged for it, yknow?

also some backstory doodles! he was a Normal Kid, Once. or close enough to it. gideon was a sickly child and was sheltered and homeschooled for most of his life. the gleefuls moved from texas to oregon when he was about seven (yes i know this breaks canon a little. its fine shh.) and he found journal 2 shortly after. things went downhill from there

other notes. he's always kept his hair long, but used to either let it down or tie it into a long braid. he very briefly attended a public school and he didnt fare very well there (fat kid + albino + 'girly' + general weird interests is basically painting a massive target on your back) he used to stay up and watch late night televangelists when he couldnt sleep in hospital and copped his aesthetic from there

sorry this post is so long i have a lot of thoughts about him </3

[kritzel]

Adams Past Thoughts

(English isn't my first language so sorry if I make mistakes)

After finishing HH I got to thinking, was Adam always the way that we see him in the show.

Because he, Lilith and Eve were created without original sin. So it wouldn't make sense for him to be a complete idiot from the beginning.

Here's what I think could be a possibility on what happened (after all we don't know how biased Lilith's book is):

First he and Lilith are created

Maybe he didn't really boss her around and it was more like a situation of a sibling telling the other sibling what to do (I know they where married but it's the only example I could think of)

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you can tell me what to do" kinda way (since Adam probably was made first)

But it was not supposed to be an order from Adam more like a suggestion

So Lilith walks of and meets Lucifer

Heaven realises Lilith won't work as a wife and they create Eve from Adam

Eve is a lot more naive than Lilith

Adam is explicitly told to look after her and make sure she is alright

He does just that and they both are happy together

Lucifer and Lilith create the fruit

And in a rare moment where Eve isn't with Adam she finds the tree

Eve eats the fruit

She gives it to Adam

He eats it too because he loves Eve and doesn't want her to endure the punishment alone

Everything goes downhill from here

I believe they were not really capable of feeling negative emotions before they ate the fruit

Eve being the first to eat it develops a lot of doubts towards Adam

Why wasn't he looking after me? That's what he was supposed to do now we are stuck in a world filled with danger and death

Adam ,who before the fruit didn't care about Lilith leaving him, was now starting to yearn for the woman he never had. She was supposed to be his and now she is with the most hated being of all creation.

They never really expressed the thoughts they had after eating the fruit with eachother

Resentment started building up without them really noticing

They still held love for eachother and tried to survive in a world full of danger

It went alright in the beginning

They had two kids

Everything seemed to look up

But of course Cane kills Abel

And that was the last nail in the coffin

Adam and Eve could not cope with the loss of both their sons (let's pretend Seth never becomes a person in this story)

They still tried to stay together

But the resentment grows bigger

Love turns into hate and a lot of hurtful things are said between them

They separate and go there different ways

And lets pretend Eve really did have something with Lucifer

As soon as Adam hears about that his hate for Lucifer and Eve just grows bigger

What is wrong with these women? What is it about this Lucifer?

He develops a lot of doubts about himself in his living life. Which causes him to develop the fear of being left by anyone who he lets into his life.

After he died he hears all about how great he is being the first man and all

And over the years he starts believing that he can do no wrong and it was only his wife's and Lucifers fault that everything went to shit

And even though deep down he wants a meaningful relationship he opted to just go for hook ups in fear of losing someone again

And after a few thousand years those things develop into the kind of person we see in the show

But this is just one possibility

I hope it is understandable what I'm trying to convey

Please share your thoughts with me.

What do you think happened all these years ago?

[catscidr]

HIIII CAN I GET DOTTORE(WEBTOON VER) X READER (fluff if u want) PLS..... where ur his assistant (besides krupp, like reader and krupp are both his assistant) and he so clearly has favoritism towards reader, bro is SMITTEN. have a good day... :D

this is sorta taking place right when the manga starts, right before dottore and the gang have a meeting about fatui stuff n all. also spoilers for the manga kinda if u haven't read it already?? i threw krupp under the bus a lot but its to make up for the fact that he’s alive in this lmaoa sry to any krupp lovers out there (′ʘ⌄ʘ‵) also there’s a lot of buildup n world building kinda im sorry i got in the zone HAHA ALSO MB THIS TOOK A WHILE TO WRITE i was drowning in leftover dessert from the holidays and was in a food coma for a couple o days. forgive me nonnie but u can get ur food now ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: reader is overwhelmed, not proofread i just went ham. not too much dialogue it's mostly unspoken bc webttore is an "actions > words" kinda man includes: fem reader, webttore, krupp, diluc mentionned wc: 1,7k

The mission was a complete and utter disaster. 

All three of you were supposed to attend the Ragnvindr ball with a simple goal; blend in as much as possible, gather intel on the Knights of Favonius and leave without a hitch. Of course, that wasn’t an easy task considering Dottore’s eccentric and unpredictable personality and Krupp being a thorn in your side at best. 

Things started going downhill before you had even left your private quarters. While you were getting ready, carefully blinking as you brushed your mascara into your lashes to blend them in with your fake ones, you were startled by a loud, quick series of knocks on your door, making you smudge the dark pigment on your eyelid. Seeing the look on your face, Krupp had apologized (halfheartedly) before leaving you to your devices, seemingly forgetting why he had even interrupted you in the first place. You tried to convince yourself that it was fine, it was an easy fix anyways- but you couldn’t help but get irritated by your coworker’s behaviour at the very least. 

The next accident happened when the three of you had stepped out of the carriage in front of the Ragnvindr mansion. Masquerading as Dottore’s concubine, he held your hand to help you out of the caravan. That in it of itself was fine; the texture of his velvet glove was nice, the warmth emanating from his hand was even nicer and you swore you saw his face soften at the sight of you carefully stepping down the singular stair, leg jutting out as you balanced yourself on the cobblestone path on your heels. But Krupp just had to step on the back of your dress, a brown footprint now adorning the periwinkle frilly trail of your gown. The only good thing that came out of it was Dottore moving his hand to your waist and swiveling you to his side, fixing his assistant with a hard glare that could kill. 

Then, after you had gotten most of the dirt out of your dress (with the help of a kind butler), your trio stepped into the venue, splitting into two groups. Krupp would blend in with a group of nobles whereas you and Dottore, arms linked together, would speak to people in the Knights directly. Eyeing your coworker in the crowd, you saw him courteously kiss the back of a noblewoman’s hand; despite the slight look of disgust crossing your face, he seemed to be doing well with the mission. 

However, it seemed that whatever Archon was watching over you then didn’t appreciate the lack of drama. As Dottore introduced the both of you to a platinum-haired man, he had gotten his shoulder shoved by what had appeared to be a new hire from the manor (at least, you assumed so considering the way he had immediately gotten yelled at by a lady older than him). 

You yelped when the Harbinger spilled his drink all over the front of your dress, some champagne sliding down your chest leaving an uncomfortable, sticky feeling on your skin. Cheeks reddening from embarrassment and frustration, you brush away his frantic apology as you storm out, grabbing a handful of napkins on a nearby table while making your way to the closest bathroom. 

Thankfully it wasn’t hard to find, not with a maid offering to help you (she had gotten turned down but kindly pointed you in the right direction at the very least). Patting your skin dry, you burst into the surprisingly empty bathroom and assessed the damage. 

That’s where you are currently. 

Staring at the state of your previously pristine appearance you can’t help but tear up. Sure, this was just for a mission, and you could just wipe away the booze as much as you could and go back to do your job. But the one time you get to dress nice, the one time you can rid yourself of that ugly, stuffy uniform and feel pretty... had to be ruined by men. While it wasn’t exactly Dottore’s fault that he spilled his drink all over your dress, you still felt mad at Krupp for stepping on it when you all had first arrived. Was it petty to still be upset about it? Yes. Were your feelings justified? Also yes. 

Being the Doctor’s assistant was a chore. A challenge, sometimes. He was demanding, strict and you often had to walk on eggshells around him to avoid setting him off. Whenever it happened, he’d start ranting and raving about how incompetent everyone in the fatui was- although, he’d never point a finger at you, usually Krupp was on the receiving end of his bite (even if he wasn’t even included in the conversation). 

Knowing him well enough to understand his moods and personality had its perks. Unfortunately, it also had its drawbacks- those being how, naturally, your boss would also know how to read your mood surprisingly well. Dottore was known to be mean and ruthless to anyone he crossed path with, however, he’s always had a soft spot for you. 

Sometimes it was obvious that he did, but sometimes it was like he saw your coworker’s face instead of your own- scowling at your mistakes and scolding you harshly for mixing in the wrong powder in a flask. Whenever that happened, you could almost forget how he was able to hold you so gently, as if you were a glass sculpture ready to break if even the slightest breeze hit you. But if he were to be described with one word, you’d never call him dense- as entitled as he could be, the Harbinger was still (maybe surprisingly) quite well-versed in human emotions. 

You barely hear your name being called in the distance, muffled by the sound of the angelic piano and violin in the main area. Too caught up in your thoughts, you continue seething and aggressively rubbing away the sticky residue on your chest, muttering some choice words about your coworker and your boss. 

The door to the women’s bathroom flies open, revealing a frustrated but concerned Dottore, his curly hair a mess from how often he must have run his hand through it while he ran to find you. Uncaring of how he was intruding on your moment and how he was in the women’s restroom, he stomps over to you, gloved hands coming down to your shoulders as he closes the distance between you so he can look at the damage properly. 

He doesn’t speak for what felt like minutes, leaving your heart to pound in a mix of shock (who wouldn’t get scared at the sight of a Harbinger slamming a door open?) and nervousness. One of his hands come down to move your own that still held onto the (now damp) napkins as he stared at the front of your dress. 

The sweetheart cut of your dress was soaked, the edge and thin lace sticking to your skin, light indigo dye appearing darker because of the stain. Snapping out of your frozen stupor, you push his hand away and bring your hands back up to cover your chest, flustered from how hard he was staring with those blank, crimson eyes. 

“...You’re in the wrong bathroom,” you murmur, unsure of how to get him to leave you alone without possibly setting him off. Dottore’s eyes flicker up to your side profile, his expression still freakishly unreadable. 

You suddenly feel both of his hands on your cheeks as he manhandles you to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. Unable to bring yourself to stay mad, tears prick at your eyes, and you look down. Holding his gaze was impossible, not when you’ve been feeling humiliated since the start of the evening. He doesn’t comment on your sorrow, keeping on staring at you intently. 

“I can always buy you a new, nicer dress if that’s what you want,” you hear him say, voice uncharacteristically quiet, and maybe even... unsure? 

You shake your head softly, sniffling. 

“No? Why are you upset, then?” 

Hearing him so utterly confused, puzzled, perplexed made you even more frustrated. Furious, even. With your emotions all over the place and a newfound fury blazing in your limbs you snatch his hands off from your face and stomp out of the bathroom, shouting I’m waiting in the carriage! before stepping out into the chilly Mondstadtian evening breeze. 

Dottore stood there, brows furrowed and mouth agape in confusion as he blinked at your retreating figure. He didn’t have the chance to go after you because, as if on cue, Krupp interrupted the show. 

“I gathered some juicy intel, boss! Those Knights are incredibly foolish for being so loose lipped,” the mustached man declares proudly, acutely unaware of the stuffy atmosphere. Maybe not completely unaware, but he’s for sure ignoring it if he noticed it. Instead of hearing him out though, Dottore scoffs and walks into him, shoving him to the side with a scowl. 

“Don’t waste my time with your useless boasting. We’re leaving,” the Harbinger all but groaned, running a hand through his hair, stress emanating from him in waves. His assistant catches up to him, stuttering out a Of course sir! as he opens the door for him, his shoes digging into the cobblestone path. 

Dottore immediately looks at your sat figure, chin in your palm, looking out of the window. The sight would make him melt if it weren’t for his other assistant’s presence a mere meter away from him. He says your name quietly, softly enough that no one other than you can hear and Krupp steps into the carriage, shouting directions to the driver. 

“Can I stay in the lab next time?” you grumble, refusing to turn around and look at your boss and coworker. Krupp opens his mouth to scold you, but Dottore beats him to it, shooting him a sharp glare, lips curling down in a frown. 

“You can,” he answers you while still looking at his employee. “In fact, it’ll give me an opportunity to properly teach my other assistant some manners,” he adds, practically growling the sentence. Krupp swallows thickly and pretends to not be involved in the conversation, looking away nervously. On the opposite side of the plush seat, you hide the smile creeping its way onto your features.

Ignoring the way your heart swelled, you inwardly celebrate your small victory. Dottore could be brash and cruel, but you’ll always cherish the moments when he shows you some lenience. Especially when it’s at the cost of your coworker’s imprudence. 

[3xiles]

Sweet lies

Pairing • Toji x gn!reader

Warnings • Angst!, Cheating mentioned, suggestive, manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing, not proof read sorry!! lmk if i missed anything >.<

Word count • 405 words

A/n • This is my first time writing in a while LMAO. I hope you all enjoy! :)) Repost are always appreciated!

You knew your marriage was going downhill the first time you caught him but, you being young, naive, and stupidly in love you let yourself believe the foolish lies that he would spill to you every night. The tongue that was used to pleasure another being the same one let the words “i love you” effortlessly roll off.

You met Toji when you were fairly young. A fresh college graduate moving away from home to a new city to start your new life. Things were going great! You were able to snag a great job as an accountant and you were making good money. You got a beautiful pent house apartment and were wearing clothes that years ago you thought you would never be able to afford and not to mention all at the age of 24. Yeah, things really were going great for you and things would still be that way if you just hadn’t gone out that night.

You had met a group of girls from this dance class you joined when you first moved and they somehow convinced you to go out clubbing with them one night. ‘What’s the harm in one night out?’ you repeated to yourself in your head, you were never really the clubbing type. Little did you know that one night would somehow change the course of your life. You met Toji on this night out.

He had this charm to him. Maybe it was something about a man that was older that got it you or the strong cologne that hit your nostrils as soon as he walked up. It could’ve been how smooth he was with his words and how dominating his presence was. At first glance he seemed scary but something about him made you feel… safe. Using that deep rasp voice and smooth combination of words he managed to bring you home that night.

It wasn’t something you were proud of, you didn’t like one night stands. Afterwards you were ashamed you would let yourself go like this, especially with a guy you just met not even 2 hours ago! You can’t lie tho, he was the best fuck you’ve ever had. He fell asleep shortly after so you took that as your que to leave. Before you leaving you left your number on his nightstand, you wanted to see more of him but it also made you feel better about the situation. Much to your surprise he ended up calling a few days later and asking you out on a date. It made you feel good, he wanted you. He wanted to turn into something. All that talk at the club wasn’t just to get in your pants, he actually liked you! You both went on more dates and shortly after began dating. It was a very nerve wracking experience for you, him being your first relationship since high school.

You fell hard. He made you feel things you’ve never felt before. He was all you wanted and more. He was nothing like the guys your age, he was grown. He was doing things for you that you’ve only seen with TV couples. Bringing you flowers while you were at work, random dates and gifts, and so much more. Toji was the man of your dreams but like every couple you guys had your ups and downs. The thing that made them all better, that damn mouth of his.

Toji’s words were your drug. He just always knew the right things to say. He had you right in the palm of his hand and you didn’t even know it. The things he has convinced you to do are unbelievable and looking back on it now you definitely wouldn’t have done them. Cutting off all your friends because in his words “They are all too immature” and “bad influences”, moving out of the apartment you loved so so much because he says would be better to wake up with you by his side and even quitting the job of your dreams.. because he promised he would take care of you. He didn’t want you to ever stress your pretty little head or lift one of your polished fingers. You began to rely on him, you began to need him.

About a year and a half into your relationship he proposed and of course you said yes! who were you to say no to him? He was providing for you, keeping you safe, the least you could do was tie the knot with him, right?

Biggest mistake of your life.

part two???

[no-saints-around-here]

I read Quiet Afternoon and I got to thinking, it says “tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.” Does this mean this is the first time Rindo has slept with bestie? If not, what was the first time/incident that caused Rindo to sleep with airhead best friend?

Masterlist | Quiet Afternoon

ahhh this became a lot longer then I anticipated - wrote a short fic at the bottom cause I thought it would explain what happened much better than just word vomit!

‎‎

To answer the question first: no. Its not Rindo's first time, not by a long shot.

That line is more so that Rindo is a delusional and unreliable narrator when it comes to his bestie: that is delusional and unreliable on a good day, and straight up in denial on having even held hands with you, let alone touched you, on a bad one. And this is also when this boy is at his most dangerous, willing to do anything to anyone, Ran included, to prove to himself that he was your best friend and nothing more, that you were still his sweet, naive, innocent airhead who he found especially annoying.

If you squint really hard at the implications of Rindo installing a soundproof door on his first day of moving into Bonten HQ, together with how well this boy already knows your body and your patterns by the time of the events of Quiet Afternoon, you may be able to infer that its definitely not your first tango, even if Rindo insists it is (no sweat if you didn't though, it was really very, very subtle on purpose).

And no one knows this fact better than Ran, given the older Haitani was the precise reason your purple-haired Bonten friend first broke rank against his better sense.

Rindo’s breaking point came sometime during your stardom period. All started going downhill when he reluctantly allowed you to continue to perform as an idol against his judgement on the basis of just how happy it made you - it had always been hard for this baby boy to deny you anything you wanted, and fresh out of another stint in jail, the delinquent-turn-yakuza was eager to make up for his time away from you. And this was on top of the weak spot he always had for your pouting, so no surprise that he caves as soon as you started to look the slightest bit down about having to leave your little gig so quickly after starting.

One of the caveats he does put in place in exchange for indulging you is that he is now personally in charge of your security, and that the rest of your bodyguards were from Bonten. No exceptions. Absolutely does not trust your ���agency’ or whatever other maggots that you choose to surround yourself with, and so will take it upon himself to accompany you everywhere, to stand guard outside your changing room when he absolutely couldn’t be inside with you, fly with you everywhere you go. But of course this also means that he has to take time off work to do so, and that meant convincing Mikey to let him do so. Ran finds it amusing to what length his younger brother will go to keep you by his side (cough begging and grovelling in front of Mikey), promising that you could help to launder their money and what not. Mikey honestly couldn’t care even a lick, as long as Rindo takes the work in whatever country he ends up in.

Yet for all that he has done for you, the honeymoon period lasts only a good 6 months before everything fell apart. Rindo thought he had a good handle on things, but never has he been so under-prepared when it finally strikes your best friend just how massively popular you had become in such a short period. Everywhere you went, no matter where you toured, your concerts were all full, stuffed to the brim with fans. And oh how he detested that word.

Fans. Rabid, like mad dogs. Decked out in merchandise bearing your face and name, screaming at the stage hoping for even a smudge of your attention. even coming to the concert venue early hoping to get a glimpse of you.

Scum of the earth, how dare they ask for more than getting to breathe the same air as you?

How dare they demand more?!

The resentment of your adoring masses only built up more and more in Rindo, having to watch from the sidelines as you enthusiastically shook hands and thanked your fans for your support, dancing for them and winking at them. Like you were some sort of whore putting yourself on show for the world. Rindo would never stand for this, not for his best friend, yet he still gritted his teeth; for reasons beyond him, you were enjoying this, enjoying shaking your ass and chest at the unwashed insects.

And then all hell finally broke loose upon one of your returns to Japan after another of your tours.

‎‎

‎‎

All Downhill from Here

"Let. Me. Go," Rindo hissed as he was manhandled away from the still buzzing arrival hall by a rather amused Ran, his twisting and struggling to break free from the other’s grasp to no avail. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him, and then I'll kill you."

The older Haitani sighed as he continued to force his younger brother along the otherwise empty corridor. "And that is precisely why we are in this situation."

And as usual, to none of their surprise, you were at the center of it all, though your airheaded presence that Rindo’s world revolved around was nowhere in sight, having already been sent ahead to the meeting point without your best friend’s knowledge. The hallway echoed with the clicks of their shoes, joined occasionally by the buzz of machinery as they passed and the hum of air-conditioning overhead. If he had known what the day was going to bring, Ran mused, he would have proposed doing this from the start; after all, airport staff were easier to disperse and keep away compared to the hordes of fans that you attract everywhere you go, and these staff corridors were rather convenient, snaking throughout the airport and away from the public eye. 

Rindo’s cursing and swearing went in one ear and out the other as Ran continued to daydream, though the man couldn’t quite blame his unusually hot-tempered younger brother either. After all, it had been the continuous build up of months of stress, having to deal with you and your little idol gig that you insisted you wanted to keep, and this latest incident was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A huff as Rindo finally gave up on his failed escape, his shoulders relaxing in the armlock he had been held in for the past fifteen minutes.

Ran raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

”Yeah. Let me go.”

“You sure?”

”Fuck you, I’ll get that shitstain later.”

Which was exactly what the older of the brothers wanted to hear, Ran nodding as he released Rindo without another word. Shitstain was putting it lightly in his opinion, considering how much trouble he had caused in the span of a single minute - but it wasn’t his problem to solve. As long as Rindo wasn’t attempting to pull a gun in front of the police and the public to settle his little lover’s quarrel, Ran couldn’t quite care what happened to another nobody.

Ran jerked his chin down the corridor. “She’s two doors down to the right. Security escorted her there earlier.” The room was already demarcated as yours, what with two Bonten grunts flanking each side, but he thought it would be better to make it clear, given Rindo’s state of mind. 

His younger brother was already gone before he could finish his sentence, and all Ran received as a thank you for his hard work was the slam of the door.

Ah, siblings.

‎‎

‎‎

Rindo didn’t quite see it as lightly as Ran did. 

This past day had already been particularly hellish for him by any standard measurement. It all started with the last concert of your first tour two nights ago - he had been watching from backstage, as he always did, when your skirt had ripped during your second song. The sound of cloth tearing reached his ears even over the sound of the throbbing music. He had confirmed as much when you finally returned to him waiting for you in the dressing room during the intermission, which only sealed the suspicions that churned in his sinking gut: at just the right angle, you would have flashed the fans in the first few rows, his wretched older brother seated in the VIP box included. Even if he had made you put on a new, longer skirt, it was already too late. 

And then when he had tried to drill into you about the importance of keeping your distance from those lowlives least you catch something nasty, you hadn’t taken his concerns quite as seriously as he had hoped, laughing and beaming back at him, patting his hand reassuringly and trying to convince him that they were harmless. Strike 1.

He didn’t know what he expected, Rindo had to admit to himself; you had always been such an airhead, even since childhood when he first met you. You probably wouldn’t even have survived for so long if the younger Haitani hadn’t take you under his wing as his best friend, and the least you could do to pay him back was to listen to him. All he asked was for you to stay close to him and far away from everyone else, especially Ran.

Sure, there were times like this where Rindo would be forced to allow Ran to inhabit the same space as you - seeing as his older brother had attended your concert and similarly happened to be heading back to Bonten HQ, the three of you had to share the jet - but of all the people to turn up cheekly waving merchandise with your face and name plastered all over? Well, he did say that you were one of the best he’s seen in a while, but still. The man with the short purple hair did it on purpose, Rindo was certain, and definitely to trigger an outburst from him; if you hadn’t been present, he would have strangled Ran himself for bringing up how good you looked on stage (now he was certain Ran saw your panty flashing). Strike 2.

‎

It was without a doubt that your best friend was already rather on edge as the jet finally landed back in Tokyo. It was supposed to be a secret when you would arrive, which meant that there were fans behind barricades eagerly awaiting your appearance outside the airport. Sure, fine. You were famous, whatever, Rindo could hardly bother. But what broke his dam was a single unruly fan. One man, decked out from head to toe in merchandise spouting your name and face, who had decided for very clear, unacceptable reasons to jump the fence in an attempt to ambush you. And the vein that had been throbbing on Rindo’s forehead all day finally burst. Strike 3.

If Ran hadn’t been a second faster to grip and restrain his hand, Rindo would have shot him dead before security could grab the assailant. 

And the missed opportunity continued to haunt him despite thirty minutes having already passed and nothing having happened to you, the sheer anger he had felt in that moment surging through his veins once more as Rindo stalked down the corridor, leaving Ran to talk at his back. Sure, he was going to arrange to have that scum erased, yet the upcoming torture wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves. Because how dare he? How dare that unworthy insect you called a fan even think of laying a finger on you? 

And then the heartstopping fear that chilled him to his bones that followed - what about you?

Throwing open the door and seeing your back turned to him only reinforced his sudden onset of fear, the closing of the door behind him reverberating in his ears. You were too naive, too stupid to think beyond your next meal, but what if there was someone else in the picture? Could it be that you had laughed away his concerns earlier because someone else told you so? Could it be that you continued to indulge others because you were being influenced? Could it be?

It had to be, Rindo gulped, as you finally acknowledged him, standing from your small seat and waving eagerly. Someone must have gotten to you while he was locked away in prison, brainwashing you into abandoning him and running off with them. Or worse, with Ran.

He couldn’t hear any of the words you were speaking at him, trapped in the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, his body numb as you tugged him over to the small comfy corner that the airport staff had set up for you. 

Nothing went in, Rindo staring blankly at you, though you seemed to have failed to notice your friend’s inaction until you tried to get his attention. 

”-n! Rin-rin!! Hello?”

The Bonten executive blinked, awakening to your curious face taking up his entire view. 

“Rin-rinnnnn.”

Rindo simply stood suddenly, forcing you to back away, though a beam quickly replaced your surprised expression. A quick glance around the room told him that it was empty of cameras, and he was certain enough that the grunts outside had ensured as much - they were, after all, the ones who would pay with their lives should the police ever become involved. “Bend over the table and pull down your skirt,” he ordered, though he didn’t wait for you to register his instruction, instead already moving to gently guide you.

He had to make sure that you knew who you belonged to, and no matter how much your best friend dreaded what he was going to do to you next, it was necessary. You couldn’t be trusted to know up from down, let alone keep yourself safe and away from those who wanted to do your harm. From those who wanted to see you separated from him.

“Okay!” You cheerfully agreed. “What are we doing?”

Needless to say, this fateful day was the start of the end of your career as an idol. You had a good run while it lasted.

[altocat]

Growing up, who was the one who gave Sephiroth the "talk" when he reached puberty?

Hojo gave Sephiroth a number of "talks". Even before the boy came of age. The intended effect was to alert Sephiroth to the fact that he'd eventually be expected to breed for Shinra in the far future, though the attempt to secure Sephiroth a proper "mate" (aka Aerith) ultimately fell through.

Hojo, naturally, was rather clinical about how he went about explaining things to Sephiroth, often with hyper detailed charts and slides that made everything feel robotic and decidedly unappealing. Sephiroth was more than often confused about such acts of intimacy, knowing full well how they WORKED but less about the emotional connection or chemistry that goes into such matters. What's more, he's even more confused that he doesn't appear to be showing any interest in the female anatomy the way Hojo claimed he would once he got older. The idea of following through with Hojo's distressing breeding plans felt gross and unnatural to him. And he's sure that even if such plans WEREN'T in place, it would still feel wrong. Something was different about him. Something was...off. Which frustrated Sephiroth to no end. It wasn't just that he was different in so many OTHER aspects, he was different in THIS aspect as well. It wasn't fair. NONE of it was fair.

Sephiroth felt something changing as he grew into his teens, still just as confused but now with some niggling secondary half-awareness as well. Dreams were suddenly more uncomfortable, hyperdetailed. He would catch himself staring longer than usual during early practice. His presence around other boys his age felt almost...threatening. And yet pleasant. Awkward, yet exciting. Challenging. Maddening. He knew he was NOT to go to Hojo about this under any circumstances, lest he be rewarded with a nasty tongue lashing or an excuse to cut him open for the sixtieth time.

So Sephiroth stews. Brooding. Wondering if he could ever truly come to know himself, or at least just a PIECE of himself.

Then Genesis shows up.

And it's all downhill from there.

[starryeyeddreamer21]

Headcanon that Vaggie knew Alastor's mother:

The exorcists weren't allowed to socialize much with the rest of heaven but that didn't mean they couldn't socialize at all. They couldn't just keep them locked away but discreet was something most exorcists just weren't so the time they were allowed out and about was limited and usually chaperoned.

Vaggie, being one of the top girls, was one of the very few allowed out unchaperoned and she would always make the most of it. She didn't talk to many people but she would go to a different place every time, usually some kind of cafe or some place with a nice view where she could relax for a little bit.

One day she found this cute little restaurant. It was nice and homey which was something she didn't get much of and she could smell the delicious food from outside.

Vaggie went in and looked around. She noticed everyone else was eating with someone else but she was alone. She was a little self conscious about it but she really wanted to eat there so she stayed.

A woman sat across from her a little while later. She was older, with dark wrinkled skin and doe like features. She was smiling so kindly it immediately filled Vaggie with a warmth she's never experienced before.

The woman introduced herself as the owner of the restaurant and continued talking to her, asking her questions about herself that Vaggie didn't know how to answer. She seemed to realize how nervous Vaggie was but she didn't leave. She stopped asking her questions and started talking to her like they had been friends for years. The woman stayed with her for the rest of her meal even though Vaggie didn't talk as much as she probably should have.

Vaggie went back as often as she could. They became genuine friends. The woman never pushed when Vaggie was quiet, she never asked where she went when she wasn't around, or about the dark bruises, sore limbs, or the faraway look Vaggie knew she got sometimes.

The woman knew how to fill the silence. It seemed she could go on forever with stories, from her life and afterlife.

She often talked about her son. Her sweet baby boy called Al. The way she talked about him Vaggie never would've guessed the full story until she asked if she still saw him. Vaggie had never seen her friend so sad before, talking about her son's life.

She talked a little bit about her ex husband, how terrible of a man he was to both her and Al. She, understandably, didn't go into too much detail but she remembered hitting her head. Her ex husband pushed her down and she fell against the counter. The last thing she remembers is watching Al take matters into his own hands. Al killed his father and then cradled his mother in his arms as she died.

After she died she would get glimpses here and there of her son's life. No one ever found out that he'd been the one to kill his father, he'd blamed an intruder. He later became a famous radio host but he never stopped killing.

The woman had tears in her eyes as she tried to explain to Vaggie that she wasn't defending his actions. She knew what he was doing was wrong but that it was his own misguided way to help others. Vaggie didn't know how to explain how well she understood.

Vaggie couldn't stop thinking about her friends' stories. She couldn't help but wonder how many people in Hell were like this, that weren't monsters but people who made mistakes and could learn. Vaggie could only think about how similar it is to what the exorcists are doing. She wondered if Al was dead, if she was the one that killed him.

The guilt just built and built. Her friend knew something was wrong and did her best to help but didn't know how to, Vaggie didn't know either. Her training went downhill too, she just didn't believe in the cause anymore.

The next extermination she just couldn't do it. She stared a frightened child in the eyes and let him go. She wasn't surprised with the consequences that followed but she knew her friend would be proud, even if she would never know.

When a beautiful blonde found her and wrapped her wounds she knew she made the right choice.

Years later when Alastor appeared Vaggie noticed the similarities. His name, the deer like features, and the way he talked sometimes was just a little too familiar. He was a radio host and a serial killer but she put the thought out of her head immediately. This wasn't her friends sweet misguided son Al this was Alastor, The Radio Demon, an overlord with no mercy and no morals.

Vaggie had almost forgotten that she'd ever even had the thought to associate him with her friend until he cooked for the hotel for the first time. The smell of the food brought back fond memories but the taste only brought horror.

Vaggie couldn't deny it, it really was him.

[poppadom0912]

Together (IV)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, bullet wounds etc.

Summary: When Kelly finds out, things only go further downhill. 

A/N: So things go a bit awry so I apologise heavily in advance. Hope you have fun with this lil one. Writing this helped get rid of biology stress.

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

Everything happened so fast.

One second Will was saying how lucky Jay was as he groaned but let out a big sigh of relief when Will brought up a bullet in the tweezers grasp. Fortunately, Jay wouldn't bleed out and if time permitted, Will could probably stitch him up here.

Will was saying something about Jay's thigh being in decent condition before the three of you continued joking around, keeping the atmosphere light hearted despite the grim thoughts in the back of all your minds.

Then, all of a sudden, the basement door burst open with such a fury that you all flinched.

Several men came barrelling into the room, all dressed in black but only two of them looked familiar causing you to sweat in dread.

So much was happening that it was difficult to register.

In the corner of your eye, you could see several men restrain your older brothers despite their pain, holding them down tightly and not once moving as if their shouts didn't bother them.

Their shouts were desperate that it physically pained you to hear but it all of a sudden clicked that their shouts were directed towards you.

Your restrained self allowed not much movement but you tried anyways, pushing them off with your elbows and trying to wiggling your way out their hands.

You tried reasoning with them, giving empty promises, trying to bargain and even begging but it was useless.

The hate you had for the Murray brothers was increased tenfold as tears fell down your scarred face, a phone being propped out and facing you directly.

*****

Kelly was starting to get worried.

It'd been around less than half a shift since you left and according to his watch, you should've called him several hours ago.

To get out of his worrying thoughts, Kelly found himself doing his paperwork in the common room, hoping that the idiocy of firefighters would distract him.

It was beginning to work but then a notification went off and his first thought was that you were finally telling him you were still alive. Maybe his worrying was pointless afterall.

The smile on his face dropped in nanoseconds when he picked up his phone and there was no text message but a video instead. The video was of you, attempting to kick as you thrashed in two mens hold.

You were practically drenched in blood. The colour of your jeans you wore this morning and your half naked torso drowned in crimson made Kelly's heart lurch out of his chest.

Your screams of agony echoed out his phone and into the firehouse, putting everyone at a standstill. Your cries were very much audible, along with your breathless begging for them to stop; you had enough and couldn't handle it anymore.

The video ended with your screams blending in with the desperate shouts of two deep voices that Kelly couldn't help but recognise. Your pleads would forever scar your family, simply hearing it was enough to do so.

Kelly felt like being sick.

*****

Forensics were scattered all around the cabin, inside and out, leaving no rock unturned.

Time was ticking and they were soon going to lose daylight which would only make their jobs ten times harder.

Kim was jotting down a few notes on what a tech was relaying to her when her phone rang, the name not surprising her at all. "Hey Hailey, what do you have?"

"I've got Severide with me."

Hailey's words confused the brunette causing her to stand up straight and squint her eyes in confusion till she remembered that the two of you had been dating for the past two years.

"And?"

"He got sent a video four minutes ago."

Kim swallowed harshly. Such simple and vague words but she knew exactly what they meant. Looking over her shoulder, she jogged towards where the rest of the unit had huddled together after collecting all the physical evidence left behind.

"Sarge, I've got Hailey on."

"What's up?"

Before either female could reply, Kim received a notification and upon seeing what was attached, she already wanted the ground to swallow her up. She really was dreading what they were about to see.

Nothing was going to prepare her for what she saw nor what she was hearing.

Your bloodied and bruised body left no trace of your usual pale complexion. Your shouts turning into screams felt as though they vibrated through her being, her blood turning cold knowing her friend had been put through so much.

Screwing her eyes shut, she paused the video, refusing to see anymore of you in such a state. It was obviously clear as day that the rest of the unit felt the same way.

"I tracked the video and it's coming from here in Illinois, not Wisconsin." Hailey paused. "Trudy's got units on the 5 mile radius I was able to narrow down."

"Alright, we're coming back." Hank said, gesturing for everyone to get a move on. "Call us back as soon as you got something."

"You got it Sarge."

*****

Your breaths were shallow, eyes dim and body numbing further time went by.

Death sounded so sweet right about now.

Jackson and Ezra had their fun but upon announcing their hunger, they simply let you fall like a ragdoll onto the cold concrete before leaving without another word.

Before you could register their exit, you felt two pairs of hands coming to hold you up. On instinct, you began fighting them off even though it brought you immense pain and it took too much effort.

But, it was only Jay and Will. Gosh, they'd watched the entire thing unfold and they couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." You repeated under your breath, voice hoarse and sounding like you were about to lose it anytime soon.

"Y/N, hey, don't be silly." Will comforted you, sitting you up, back against the wall so he could inspect just how much more damage was inflicted. "Don't be sorry- we're sorry."

"I've literally traumatised you guys with my stupid screaming." You pointed out, your tone flat as you pointed out the most obvious. Guilt was swallowing you up whole and all you wanted to do was drown in it.

"Y/N, you're in pain, you have every right to scream and cry." Jay retorted back, also pointing out that what you did didn't need to be justified. "If you didn't, I'd be worried for you."

"I wanna go home." You whimpered, fingers curling around Jay's hand as the pain you were enveloped in increased tenfold. You must've sounded like a little child but your bed and sleep sounded so good right about now.

And your older brothers could do nothing else but agree.

Series Taglist:

@mads-weasley

@sowrongitslottie

@elite4cekalyma

@senjoritanana

@hufflepuff-blackwidow

@mrspeacem1nusone

[tartarusknight]

Eddie had this thing where he'd lie to the simplest questions. Honestly, it wasn't even because he thought it was funny or that he felt uncomfortable. It was just that sometimes someone would ask him something, and a lie would come out. Well, it wasn't the truth either.

Because Eddie grew up having to lie. His dad told him to lie to the cops. His mom told him to lie to his dad. Wayne told him not to let people know why Eddie was kicked out, that he was a queer. Soon, lying became a part of his performance, and Eddie was always the performer.

But eventually, it got to the pint where he'd panic at the thought of telling the truth in moments when he didn't feel in control. So he'd lie about the most basic things.

Like once Dustin asked what his favorite color was, and without hesitating, Eddie replied, "Forest green." Like sure, green was a nice color, but he always loved red. And he didn't want to be like, "Haha, I was just lying. I like red," so he gave Dustin a smile and continued on.

It never really was a big thing. He could just confuse people later when someone inevitably asked again. However, there were a few things that started to go downhill. He moved in with Wayne and told the older man he was allergic to celery. He wasn't, but he told this huge story that had Wayne believing. So, Wayne went out of his way to make sure he was always good.

Or when Gareth asked if he played anything else and he lied and spun a story of playing piano with his mother. And the time when Mike asked if he was doing okay after the Upside Down and Eddie went off on a tangent about how well he was adjusting. (Although he's sure the kid knew that was a lie)

Anyways, don't yell at him. He knew it was wrong, okay? He just could stop it. And he wished he could when it came to Steve. Steve made him nervous, honestly. He was hot and kind, and he always listened to Eddie. Three perfect qualities. And even better, Eddie had watched him rip a demobat apart with his bare hands. So yeah, if Steve wasn't kind, Eddie would be scared of him, but... Eddie mostly just wants to bite him. (Aka, he has a pathetic crush on him)

And when Eddie got crushes, his anxiety spiked, and so did his lying. Which wasn't going great. Steve asked if he was busy, Eddie spun this story of a trip to Indy with Gareth. Steve asked what his favorite food was, and Eddie said he liked smoothies more than solid food. Steve asked him what the black hanky stood for, and Eddie said how he wanted to be a pirate when he was younger. He asked more and more and Eddie continued to lie.

However, it got really annoying when Robin asked him, as she stood next to Steve if he was a friend of Dorothy's, and Eddie pretended not to know what they were talking about. Even as their expressions dimmed and Eddie continued on like nothing was wrong.

Or when Steve asked if he had his eye on anyone and Eddie's mouth started up while his brain froze. He wasn't exactly sure what he said, but he knew it wasn't that he was gay and in love with him, so....

Eventually, Erica called him out on it. They were watching a movie he lied and said he had never seen before. She looked at him with an annoyed expression on her face. "Why do you do that?"

Everyone looked confused, but Eddie just looked away, "do what?"

She snorted, "Lie."

He tensed up but forced himself to shrug. She didn't look like she bought it. He huffed, and words just spilled out. "Lie? Why would I lie? There's no reason to. Honestly, Lady Applejack, I don't understand why you would-"

"Cut the shit, Edward." She snapped.

"Erica," a chorus sounded from the group, and Eddie winced.

"But you do lie a lot." Dustin said softly, and Eddie felt like he might make a break for it.

"He doesn't lie a lot," Steve said, jumping to his aide. Which made Eddie feel like dying honestly. Robin nodded, but the kids didn't look convinced.

Dustin sat up, "Eddie what's your favorite food?"

And the words just spilled out, "this is ridiculous. I'm not a pathologic liar."

But Nancy was on the scent now. "Then answer the question."

And he would, but he knows he gave each kid a different answer. "So, I have to prove myself you?" He didn't even put any hurt in his tone. No, he was too busy trying not to break down.

"No he does-"

Except Eddie didn't want Steve to defend him. "Don't," he begged, and Steve's eyes widened. "Fuck," he jumped up and stormed out of the living room. He could hear the party, but words seemed to blur together.

His childhood had been ruined because of liars, and he had become one. Now, he'd ruin his future because he became who his parents raised after all. They'd all realize he couldn't help it. That he was just a coward in every way.

"Eddie!" Steve called, and Eddie pulled open his van door, but Steve shoved it shut. "Eddie, I'm sorry they have no -"

Eddie turned towards him and could feel the tears falling. "Stop defending me!" He snapped and watched Steve take a step forward before he faltered. "They're fucking right! Don't you get that! I'm a Liar, Steve!"

Steve finally took the step closer, "It's okay."

Eddie knocked him back, "no its not! I just can't stop it! My mouth moves on its own, and I can help it! My nerves get the best of me, and I say shit like, no, Steve, I'm not gay! I'm completely straight! I'm totally not in love with you! But I'm going to pretend to be busy so I don't have to deal with the anxiety of lying to you day in and day out!"

"Oh," Steve says softly, and Eddi looks away. "You love me?"

Eddie's mouth starts up, "what I didn't -"

Steve covers his mouth, "I've been trying to get a read on you for months. God, you have not been helpful. So I'm just going to say that I like you too. I really do, and I'm like a hair trigger from loving you, honestly. Robin was sure that you weren't straight, but then you monologed about how badass Nancy was and well..." Eddie winced and flushed at the idea of saying Nancy was his type. "You don't have to be scared of us. You're our friend, and we care about you."

Eddie nods, and Steve pulls his hand back. "I'm a terrible person."

Steve snorts, "Nah, you're human. Robin rambles when she's nervous. You lie. I flirt. The holy trinity."

Eddie rolls his eyes, "Oh yeah, a holy trinity."

Steve clears his throat, "So, if I'm not reading this wrong, you'd go on a date with me?"

Eddie nods, "yeah."

"Good."

A Part 2 done by @fairy-princette

[inkyquince]

@yogurtpop come get your boy

Nihil x amab reader

cw. incest, noncon, drugging, implied creep behaviour from more brohters than just Nihilism Soda, implied gaping, mentions of violence and gore, art the clown jumpscare, Nihil creeping on reader, piss (made sexual by Nihil), narsty wedgie from Nihil, Nihil in general is a terrible brother.

Your brother was always... Well, off. 

It started with people struggling to even pronounce his name and went downhill from there. He was always in trouble, a fighter, and was someone that every parent who even slightly liked their kid demanded them to steer clear off. 

You didn't have that option, but back then he was just your cool older brother with the shit eating grin aimed at other idiots. You never noticed when it turned to you instead.

But you did know when it became obvious. Maybe it was when you were wearing shorts and he snickered and said your ass was hanging out. He gripped the back of the fabric and yanked it upwards, giving you a painful wedgie. Except, unlike the other times he liked to bully you, his breath was all heavy against your neck, pulling more and more, obviously showing your underwear. His knee also slid between your thighs, handling you so roughly it was like he was grinding it against your crotch. 

It was until your father came in and snapped at him to let you go did he stop the torment.

Other times were less painful, but still humiliating. When you were showering and he barged in, flatly saying he needed to piss. You shouted at him to get out but too late, toilet seat up, sound of liquid hitting the bowl. You tried to continue to wash yourself, it was serene for a moment until the curtain twitched. 

"Hey, you've filled out!" His cackle was horrifying. He never used to talk about you like this, even telling you that if anyone tried to mess with you, he'd beat their skull in. “Your cock isn’t as shrimpy as it used to be.” 

You yelled at him to leave again and he finally did, after another snort and without washing his hands.

Maybe it was just that you were more aware of your body these days, not that he behaved differently. He was always play-fighting with you, hands on your stomach and sides and chest, tickling, as long as you could remember. You remember a year back when he pinned you down and tickled you until you actually pissed yourself. You were mortified but he was laughing his ass off, before shedding his trousers and telling you to go clean them. 

But now it had become a rule in the house. Nihil wasn't supposed to touch you anymore. You didn't even realise it had been made a thing until you came across your father flatly telling your brother that you was going to quit it with how he was hanging around you. And apparently, this talk was had with a few others, but you never caught those interactions. 

It was like your brothers, the people you somehow loved and hated the most, became too aware of you. You had no idea why you were the subject of this strange bullying more now than ever, and Nihil never let up. 

You still loved him a lot though. He was your favourite for some reason, to your own astonishment most of the time. So, when you were home late (your oldest brother had let you sleep at his after you were fired suddenly. Guess who had visited you at work, made a nuisance of himself and you were blamed?), with no one else around, you were kinda excited to have some proper time alone with your second oldest brother, without the looks from your father or from Kage. You found him in his room, shoes still on, watching something on his phone only to immediately toss it aside in favour of you, the moment you stepped inside. He leaned back in the bed, against the headboard, grinning his sharp smile. It just grew when you excitedly offered to marathon some horror movies. Nihil mentioned he was going  to make drinks and food, and said he’d make you regret it if you picked a shit movie. 

So you got to work. The Terrifier, the Collector, the gore stuff that got him shifting in his seat a lot before deciding to throw your own favourite movie in right at the end, thinking he’d let it go once he got his own fill. 

You could hear him making soft grunts from the kitchen and rolled your eyes, already loading in the first disk. 

“Why are you taking so long? Someone will be home and kicking you out if you don’t hurry up!” You called, tucking your feet underneath you.

“Yeah, yeah. Brat.” Nihil appeared again, two separate bowls of popcorn and two drinks, immediately throwing the bottle at your head for your attitude. 

You managed to catch it in time and scooted along the sofa to make room for his large frame. The first movie was a hit, your brother chuckling every now and then, shovelling food into his mouth and chewing loudly. Your own popcorn was a bit wet and too salty, and when you complained, Nihil snorted. 

“Blame Gore’s shit microwave.” Still eyeing you as you ate a few pieces at a time. 

It took a few slow, struggling blinks, for your own brain to realise that you were falling asleep. You didn’t want to, you finally got some time with your brother. Yet, here you were, head bobbing lower and lower each time, until you were tucked fully into the couch, thin blanket thrown over your legs, and your head against the pillows. By the third movie, you had drifted off, your feet in Nihil’s lap, as his large hand moved along your ankles. 

Your dreams were weird. With the horror movie still playing in the background, you were pretty sure, with every brief moment of lucidity, the sounds of wet stabbings and groans of the dying slipped into your head. Blood on your face, a knife, dripping with blood, dragging over your stomach, a victim groaning low and hot. A pain against your collarbones, something sharp and wet, then a spray of your own blood against your face. 

You only woke up with the grunt of Nihil’s “fuck it”. You blearily blinked, patting at the blankets as your brother sat up, shutting off the fourth movie half way through. You whined softly, in protest, not wanting the evening to end just yet, even if you were half asleep. 

But your lips couldn’t move properly. Your tongue was sluggish. It reminded you of being twelve, and Nihil had rough housed too much and slammed your head against the wall. You needed emergency surgery on some of your teeth, your dad sitting in the room, fuming. The Novocaine had you tired and not able to talk, even when your brother got shouted at when you were finally home, wrapped up in a blanket and Gore carrying you to bed. Unable to speak, tired, and the sounds of the blanket being pulled up around your face, it was a strange sense of Deja Vu, but instead the scent of Gore, of unwashed hair and clothes, there was the smell of Nihil. Blood and body odour and something salty, tangy. 

He lifted you easily, and it took your brain a moment to catch up with everything. His shirt bunched around his stomach, leaving his happy trail, flecked with white on show. Stains on his trousers, zipper open. Cock, heavy, hard, dribbling long strains of cum, down his clothes and onto the carpet. You gave a soft whine of confusion, the first sound you managed to make. Nihil grinned down at you, flashing the red staining his sharp teeth. 

You blindly wondered if he was just tired of watching, had relieved himself, even as weird as that was to do in front of you, and was just going to tuck you in. The dim lights overheard made you dizzier, as you passed underneath them. His hot, sour breath panted against the side of your head. You closed your eyes and when you opened them again, you were in your bed, your clothes being wrestled from your hips, Nihil grumbling as he fought with your belt. His cock was fat, leaking, and looked like it was pointed right at you as his own trousers had slipped down to his knees. 

It took a few frustrated, rough tugs to rip the fabric off your legs, abandoning them on the floor for the hopeful thought that he was just going to change you into your pjs, to disappear. Next he went for your underwear, tucking his fingers into the elastic band, but he paused. Bit his own lip in excitement then leaned down, tucking his nose between your thighs, and inhaled deeply. He groaned, open mouth, against the fabric, right where your flaccid cock lay. His breath was so hot and wet, you didn’t realise he was pressing his tongue against you until he dragged it all the way up to your stomach, only to bite you again. 

His teeth easily broke the skin, letting blood dribble forth swiftly as he finally did rip your boxers off. Nihil took a moment to sit back on his haunches, staring down at your penis, his own hard and dribbling against his stained underwear. 

A moment passed. You could feel your breath freeze in your lungs as he examined it. Your brother slowly leaned forward, bringing his hand over and- 

“Ow!” You whined as he flicked your cockhead. 

“Why aren’t you hard yet?” He slapped it a bit this time. “Either get hard like a man or get wet like a bitch.” 

This time he smacked your ass, nails scraping your hole painfully as he did so. Your brain felt like it had been soaked in syrup, sinking slowly through a bucket of molasses. You weren’t the same as the rest of your family, you were painfully ordinary compared to them, but you grew up with them, you knew them. And, for one reason or another, your thoughts refused to come together, to figure out why, why, this was happening? 

Nihil scowled down at you, before slowly sinking his thumb into your ass, even as you whined and kicked your feet, the stretch burning more than anything else. He stuck his other thumb in, just to part your hole more, his displeased expression slowly morphing into a wide grin as he got to spread you obscenely. 

“Awh. Maybe you’re more of a girl than I thought. Your insides are all cute.” He spat onto your rim, watching it trickle into you. “Guess I should bite your little dick off so everyone else can see that you’re the bitch of the house.” 

You gave a soft whimper of terror, knowing that when your brother made half of these types of threats, he usually meant them. He seemed to savour the noise, not caring that feeling was slowly coming back into your legs as you sluggishly kicked at him. Your hands still felt numb, the blanket trapping them against your chest not helping at all. Even if he did care, you don’t think he’d do anything, except get harder. You knew he loved the struggle, the fight. 

Nihil, not caring even slightly about your weak wiggles and mumbles, ducked his head to lick at your hole, worming it in between his thumbs. He sucked roughly on the rim, before focusing on trying to get his tongue as deep in you as possible. The moment he started, he was making loud, disgusting moans, grinding his cockhead against your covers, leaving precum stains on the blankets as he bucked. You tasted good. A part of him found it as hot as he did because you were his baby brother. He already had fooled around a bit with a brother or two, and it never failed to get him hard as hell. But also you were you. A fuckable little thing. Even if you hadn’t been related to him, he’d have made sure to snap you up (probably with some trafficking, but shush) and ruin your hole with his cock until you cried. 

Just the thought had him leaking more, dribbling slowly, smearing the pre against your skin. 

“Nihil.” You whimpered, feeling tears in your eyes, partially from what was happening, but also from the way his tongue was pressing something sensitive, strange, deep inside of you. 

He groaned into you and wrenched his head back, tongue lolling out like a dog. After a dog-like licking of his lips, he roughly turned you onto your stomach, spreading your cheeks more. 

“Want something to bite down on?” Nihil snickered, papping his messy cockhead against your rim, leaving sticky residue behind. “A pillow, a belt. Should I get Kage?” 

You whined and kicked at him more, not even catching his notice, or him ignoring them anyway from how pathetic the attempt even was. Your own cock was finally hard, perked up and leaking against your stomach, after all the manhandling Nihil put you through. You desperately couldn’t help but wonder if this was what your own father was afraid of, the intent he had underneath all the tickling and rough housing that your brother loved to pull you into. It didn’t matter. 

Nihil pressed his cockhead in, groaning when your insides clamped around it. 

“Fuck. You’ve been wanting this huh? Wanting cock from your big brother?” Ignoring the way you were twitching under him, whining and shivering, he started to bully the rest of his fat length inside. “You must have. Saving this tight, slut hole all for me, haven’t you?” 

Even if you wanted to reply, through the tears of pain and pleasure stinging your eyes, he wouldn’t have listened. Not when your body was welcoming him into you so warmly, so snugly. 

He was deaf to the front door opening, the grunt of a displeased brother as the remains of food and drink were obviously left in front of the still playing TV. No, as he forced his cock into your hole which was too small and tight to welcome him in easily, he didn’t hear the slow, heavy footsteps towards his oldest brother’s room. Thank goodness, or he’d have gone soft in seconds. No, Gore only paused in front of your door, hearing groans and the sounds of your bed obnoxiously squeaking through every thrust, and just frowned. Then he shut himself in his own room. 

Same for Jules when he swung by, pointedly ignoring whatever was making you squeal and Nihil groan. 

Would you have felt betrayed? By the brothers that came, only to not intercede as the second eldest played with you so roughly, moving you like a living doll, on your back, on your stomach, knees up against your chest, hole slowly, forcefully resized? It didn’t matter to Nihil, who wouldn’t stop thrusting into you, only stopping to pull his cock out and grind it against yours, dirtying it with cum and spit, before making you clean it all off. Who whispered into your ear that you were built like a fag, built to take cock, especially from big brothers who you loved oh-so much. He was only satisfied when his cum was stuck in your hair, dried, and your rim was puffy and sore. That was when he forced his mouth against yours, licking along your teeth, before pulling away and chuckling that you two were going to watch movies every week from then on. 

[littleclosetofbyler]

it was me, i was mike

Hello world.

So I got around the byler rabbit hole around 13 days ago (backed up by a comment on the first byler yt video i watched, kinda crazy), and everything went downhill from there until two or three days ago when i realized something extremelly curious: I was Mike Wheeler once.

Now, you might be asking yourself "the f is this woman into" but hear me out: everyone has a past.

So I will tell you a little bit about myself and my first friend crush.

I was around 15-16 when it started, year 2005, she was two years younger than me and my best friend. We went to the same school, she was really really smart, we would hang out because we both liked anime and books and games. Basically I asked her to be my friend during recess one day, of course when you are 15 the interaction goes more like "hey i heard you like anime, me too, wanna hang out after this?"

And hang out we did. A lot.

Fast forward a few years we are in full friendship with me being around 18 and dumb as f. We would go everywhere together and all was great, until I met one of her friends, a guy who was just kind of cool, but I actually just liked his name.

I started dating him, because I had nothing better to do, and my friend and I were okay for around a week, and then this guy asked my friend how he could make me kiss him... and my friend cut me off.

Like that. No longer friends.

In january was her 16th birthday, I called her on the phone and asked why we were no longer hanging out, I told her I missed her and she gave me the answer that has been with me for over 15 years already: "Our age gap is too big".

At the moment I was sad and weirded out, we were friends, best friends, what the hell happened. Until a few weeks later I talked with another friend, a wise dumb kind of guy who told me the second answer that has been with me for years: "She liked you".

I was 19 when I understood my feelings for women were more than platonic, I was 19-20 when I had my first everything with women. I was 19-20 when i came out of the closet.

But when I was 18 and she liked me, I was just... oblivious.

I used to make jokes about gay people, I had a lot of internalized homophobia, I thought things were not very logical at all. It took me years to realize that my "looking up to X older girl" was not a common universally straight experience, not in the way I used to do it. It took me even more years to realize that my first idealization of a "wet dream" was not the man, but the woman in the blue dress and high hair.

A few years more, of should I say, many years more, is what it took me to realize a lot of other things; looking back, my relationship with her was never completely "normal", not for two girls in my country at that age in the year 2007.

Hidden messages, special presents, a folder full of drawings, german music, a little too close in all the photos, sleepless nights on her bed, ice cold tea specially for me, holding hands while watching anime in the darkness of a movie theater, almost hugging while a kiss happened in those movies, sleeping on my shoulder, except that she was never really sleeping.

We were everything and we were nothing, platonic friends only.

Today I am 34, and an openly not straight woman (lesbian? bisexual? I don't know, i don't care).

When I lost her I did not only lost my best friend, I lost so so much more, and it was probably the cathalist for everything that came after.

I miss her to this day.

So I understand the universal not straight experience of the crush on a friend as well as the being the crush of said friend, and let me tell you, I was Mike Wheeler, remember that guy I told you about? Well, I told him I loved him (can´t actually even remember if this happened exactly like this), because he insisted I never said it.

I have never been in love with a man, I am not sure I even ever feel anything for a man beyond platonic whatever.

So, whenever I see people say that Mike Wheeler just can't be gay, or be or anything... oh my sweet summer child, he can be, because I was, at the same age, in a not conservative contry, in 2008; why do you think it might be impossible in the 80's in a conservative town in a pretty conservative country?

Dunno, just asking.