#correct me if I'm wrong but I don't remember that and no one has said the Dragon's Peace was in the notes that RJ left SO THERE'S THAT

[rin-solo]

ALRIGHT, I AM FINALLY REBLOGGING THIS<3

Amazing post! I really enjoyed reading it. Now, I don't think I'm going to go too deep into my own theories because I want to do my own (more story- than music-based, though) analysis (will probably do it saga by saga so as to avoid the word count problems ...)

Overall really thorough, so I'm going to add just a few things here and there:

I strongly believe Just a Man is a prophecy in some way, or at least heavy foreshadowing (deliberately picking imagery for each saga in Act 1): comet/meteor -> TROY; candle/blaze -> CYCLOPS; ripple/tidal wave -> OCEAN; reason/blame -> CIRCE; man/monster -> UNDERWORLD (I'm not going into detail on why I believe this for now because I will be in my post eventually.)

Fun (?) parallel that came to mind: Odysseus claims to be the "man who, unlike you, has mercy" to Polyphemus (which is an at least partially inaccurate claim spoken out of resentment) and later does the same with Poseidon in Get in the Water (my beloved 🫶), except there it's much more genuine and much more presented through other words/actions rather than outright stated (making it a lot more authentic and accurate.)

Odysseus was 100% correct in going to Aeolus, and I am tired of people criticizing him for this, sorry. I mean, Hermes later tells us literally that "no mortal can pass Poseidon's storm," meaning that they couldn't have gotten past that storm without divine intervention. The few animatics for Storm that exist probably massively undersell how bad it actually was (I'm actually currently making my own one because I think this song is underrated.) And then it's also not Odysseus' fault that the wind bag was opened; apart from not trusting anyone with the wind bag, he actually didn't do anything wrong in the Ocean saga. Going to Aeolus is really the more responsible thing, in my opinion, rather than trying to survive with a fleet of ancient, very sinkable ships in an impenetrable storm. They would've all drowned had he not decided to do something about it.

I wager Aeolus' "Keep your friends close" was trying to give Odysseus a hint at how to beat her game. I don't think she was setting him up for failure, as some believe. If he had actually kept his friends close, he would've probably won. I am convinced that Eurylochus wouldn't have opened that bag if Odysseus had actually entrusted him with it.

THANK YOU for everything that you said about Ruthlessness. The amount of people who misunderstand that song .... sigh. And yes, I believe the ripple/tidal wave reprisal was deliberate, not just because this is the tidal wave to Remember Me's ripple, but also because this is Poseidon's own ripple to 600 Strike's tidal wave.

I've actually always interpreted the ending of There Are Other Ways as Circe "opening her heart" somewhat, as she has now been shown that she is potentially hurting good/innocent men by striking first. Odysseus proved to her that such a thing exists, and she might actually be rethinking her approach now (I hope so; as understandable as her actions are, they're still harmful.)

Thank you also for pointing out how "No longer you" only means "not the man you are right now" as opposed to "a monster," as I've seen so many claim.

And, last but certainly not least:

If the (heart)beat signifies looming/imminent/perceived danger by at least one involved party, I am eyeing very, very interestedly the fact that it disappears as Odysseus finishes his "... just go home" speech in Get in the Water (my beloved 🫶) and is present neither during the 3-second pause nor "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" Hm, yes, very, VERY fascinating indeed...

... Of course, I was going to close off with this one 😂

Anyway, that was really fun to read and I hope you enjoy my additions :) I'm very curious what you think, actually!

Epic Analysis - Act I

So I made a joke a while back about analyzing the themes of the musical and that'd be ten pages long and it turns out I'm not that far off considering just act I has ~checks mark ~ 8 pages and over 4K words lmao.

I want to preface this by saying I'm pointing out things that I have noticed while listening to it - I'm no way claiming to be right about anything, and there things I may have missed or may have misundertood.I don't have a degree in music nor am I a professional writer/songwriter, so you can interpret the points bellow however you wish.

And to follow along with.

Red - Song titles

Orange - repeated sentences that appear later on.

Blue - motifs

I hope you all enjoy and please do me a favor and like and reblog this with your thoughts because I lost a good amount of brain cells doing this.

Also, please share your thoughts and theories, too <3

And if you kindly could like and reblog so this can reach new people I'd be greatly appreciated.

The Horse And The Infant

We get our first introduction to Odysseus' electric guitar with his motif.

We also learn a bit about Odysseus himself - he can operate well under pressure, he is a good captain who knows the strength of his men and he also says: "Neo, avenge your father (Achilles) kill the brothers of Hector"

We hear a heartbeat when he's thinking about Penelope and Telemachus. (This will be important later on, trust lmao).

Zeus appears and we can hear his synth base.

We hear the music box that will later be heard again.

Odysseus begs Zeus to not make him kill the infant.

"Please, don't make me do this"

"The blood on your hands is something you won't lose, all you can choose is whose".

Just A Man

We get our first introduction to Odysseus' acoustic guitar.

But when does a comet become a meteor?

When does a candlе become a blaze?

When does a man become a monster?

When does a ripple become a tidal wave?

When does the reason become the blame?

When does a man become a monster?

Is important to note that the acoustic guitar disappears completely as soon as Odysseus decides that he has to kill the infant to ensure the lives of all of those he loves. It's also important to note that despite providing Zeus with alternatives, he still does what it takes as he said he would not long ago.

Here we also learn of Odysseus' hunger - And his is vastly different from pretty much any other character - because his hunger is about seeing his wife and his child - is not literal, but rather metaphorical.

And another interesting fact - we hear a choir singing back Odysseus' words back to him and that won't be the first time that it happens.

There's a possibility that's the crew doing so - but if he's in the wall and they're bellow, how exactly do they know what's happening there? And how can they hear what's he's saying?

I point this out because Jay himself has claimed that only gods can summon their own choir, so - what exactly is happening here?

Full Speed Ahead

We are introduced to other character and one foe that arguably poses more threat than the gods - hunger.

And Odysseus has enough hindsight - at that moment - to know that there was something was off because he could see fire but no smoke, which is an interesting thing in and on itself considering that we often say that "where there's fire, there's smoke".

He also stops Eyrulochus from barging in the island and states that he should go ahead with Polites, because they could find a way of no one ending up dead.

But when Eyrulochus states that they don't know what's ahead, Odysseus says that if they don't return six hundred men can make the whole place burn. (This is interesting, and quite telling if I say so myself).

Full Speed Ahead serves to drive the plot forward, but also gives us insight into Odysseus' mindset prior to Polites' death.We close the song with Ody's eletric guitar again.

Open Arms

We are presented with Polites' philosophy about kindness and greeting the word with open arms.

"You can relax my friend"

"Greet the world with open arms"

We can hear a (heart)beat - not to be confused with the heartbeat we hear in the name of Penelope - as soon as the minions ented the sound space with "welcome" and the beat remains there until we hear Polite's say: "See".

I said not to be confused with Penelope's because this beat does sound like a heartbeat - it picks up the pace and slows down but is not present in every song nor is it present in every section of the songs it shows up in - which leads me to believe it might mean something (unless it's a random beat, but I'm being honest I have a hard time believing that).

So our first theoretical introduction to this sound happens when they are near perceived danger - but we all know what the danger motif sounds like at this point (which I won't tackle because is everywhere and it doesn't feel necessary as off now).But the beat disappears as soon as the situation is resolved and it does not appear again.

And again, Odysseus is warning the winions that if they don't make it back safely, his men will burn the island down. And here, Odysseus presents Polites with the idea that Open Arms with no discernment can sometimes lead them down a path they do not wish to go - "that's what you get with open arms".

But when they manage to "succeed" living by what Polites' said, Odysseus begins to ponder which is why Athena shows up.

Warrior of The Mind

We are introduced to Athena as a character and we hear her motif for the first time.

We hear the heart(beat) again as soon as Odysseus asks Athena to show herself. So here it seems to be present again near perceived danger, or at the very leas near the unknown.

And we hear his electric guitar motif right before she asks what his name is.

Polyphemus

Again, we hear the electric guitar and his motif but on a different scale than what we usually get (I'm pretty sure)

And not for the first time, we have Odysseus having enough awareness to notice that something is off, because everything is too perfect.We hear the heart(beat) again once Polyphemus asks "who are you?"

Here is the first time where said beat can be perceived at different metric sections than they'd normally be for a normal beat, here they are present in certain words.

At first, we hear it constantly until Odysseus says they come in peace, and they stop and come back in the word "sheep". It appears between that and favorite, and appears again in "favorite", again in "right" and "deep", and then in "know" and then the beat is gone.

But is important to note that in this first section, we only hear one beat per minute.

It stays gone for a good portion of the song and it shows up again as soon as he stops saying: "A gift for you and a gift from me" and it sounds a little bit more stuttery in this part but is gone again before Odysseus says his name is "nobody".

And we hear the electric guitar again in this section. And then the beat again - this time two beats per minute.

This is the first instance in which we hear the beat associated with actual danger, but not only danger but also presented in a context of someone claiming they come in peace right after they kill a sheep that was there just minding its own business and then in a context where one of the parts is being manipulated but has also made up their mind about things will end.

As for the song itself, there are some things I find interesting in it because I don't think we talk enough about how the themes are connected, or about this particular theme that I'll touch on again.

But Polyphemus asks Odysseus what gives him the right to deal that kind of pain - i.e: the pain of losing his friend sheep, and asks him if he doesn't know that pain he sows is pain that he'll reap and proceeds to warn him that he'll learn that is not so fun to take."A trade you see, take from you like you took from me".

Everyone talks about how this line is foreshadowing to him taking Odysseus favorite person from him - and it is! But it also shows us something else: Consequence (which isn't the first we see off and won't be the last). Odysseus himself will later say he didn't lose any of his men in the war - because up to that point - he was a brilliant commander that thought up an idea to bring a horse into a city so that they could win, but before Astyanax - which is a point I'll make later on -, Odysseus was never presented with the consequences of his own actions.

This isn't an argument about who was right or who was wrong - but objectively, about the principle that every action has an reaction, and that's when Odysseus will learn this the hard way. So the song and the character are telling him (and us by extension) that Odysseus entered the cave, killed the sheep and that actions will have consequences. He obviously didn't know that he was killing something important to someone, especially someone that could kill him - but that's the thing, whether he knew or not doesn't matter to Polyphemus. He still felt the pain of losing the sheep, and because he felt that pain, he had to make Odysseus feel the same.

There was an action, that action caused someone pain, and so because of it, that pain must be felt in the same way to be understood.

And then again we see Ody's mind at work - with him tricking Polyphemus with the lotus wine -. Odysseus is trying to fix the situation with a gift - as a way of saying, I may have taken something from you, but here I am giving you something back -.

"A trade you see, a gift for you and a gift from me"

I also find it interesting that Odysseus talks about the power that's in his hand when referring to the wine. I understand that apparently it was Dionysus' wine, but if we think about another possible meaning, it could also refer to Polyphemus own thirst (and his father's, by extension) which is the thirst for power, not on the traditional sense but rather on the sense that he felt his power over the island and the sheep was taken away, so in order to gain it back, he must kill the people that took it from him.

Survive

We hear Zeus' reprisal of The Horse and The Infant but I'm pretty sure the tempo is a little bit faster than what it is in the previous use of it.It could be because the same way Zeus ordered Odysseus to kill Astyanax, he's ordering his men to kill Polyphemus who also happens to be a child Cyclops - but I think there's more to it than that.

We hear the guitar again.

Odysseus explicitly states he's ready to kill. "Is just one life to take".

"When we kill him then our journey is over"

We don't hear the heart(beat) here at all.

And then Polyphemus takes over the song and the motif as well, and kills Polites.

And then he says "You've hurt me enough".

"Six hundred lives I'll take, six hundred lives I'll break, and when I kill you then my pain is over" (Sidenote, I was looking at Spotify and the lyrics there were "then my deed is over" and it make me question everything because I always heard it as pain and everywhere else has as pain so yeah, Spotify sucks).

Going back to the point, I always found it interesting that Polyphemus would say that when he kills the men his pain will be over. Because it made me wonder - does he mean his literal pain or the psychological one? Is not like he didn't care about the sheep - he did - quite a lot. So is it possible that he's not referring to just the physical pain but a different one too? Because here he sounds more vulnerable than he did in the previous song when he says "enough, you've hurt me enough". He doesn't even sound angry, but rather quite vulnerable.

So if my interpration is correct - this is also the first time that Odysseus sees the emotional pain he caused on one of his foes, but is also the first time we have another character stating that for said pain to be over, the thing that caused it has to be dead.

Remember Them

This is Odysseus "coming to terms with his losses" (I'll touch on why this is on quotes later). But we again get his eletric guitar and Odysseus resilience being brought to the forefront.

He goes back to his military mindsight quite fast considering what just happened, and he delivers his orders very fast at that moment.

And after a whole song without the (heart)beat - it appears again when the other cyclops appear in the soundspace and ask "Who hurt you" and it disappears as soon as Athena appears.

So here the beat appears again in perceived danger - but also when someone is actually hurt.

And this is when Polyphemus is presented with the consequence of his own actions as well. He killed some of Odysseus pain out of retribution because Odysseus killed his sheep - so now Odysseus stabs him in the eye so that they can get out of the cave -.

And now, instead of killing the Cyclops, he decides to let him live, which will have consequences. As I said before, one song ago Odysseus was ready to kill him, but he had no qualms about doing so either; however, as soon as Polites dies Odysseus' whole mindset changes.

He decides to spare him like his friend would have wanted, but he also gives his own name away due to what I can only surmise to be resentment. Is almost like he's saying: "This is the man, that unlike you, has mercy".

Also, this is what Odysseus says:

"Remember me. I'm the reigning king of Ithaca"

"I am neither man nor mythical"

"I am your darkest moment"

"I am the infamous Odysseus"

And again we hear a choir in the background as he says all of this. Could the choir be the crew? Maybe - but if that's the case, why would they enter when this is singularly about Odysseus himself?

My Goodbye

We get Athena's motif again.

This song does a great job of recontextualizing Warrior of The Mind.

We hear Odysseus' guitar again - and I believe we get both of them although I'm not entirely sure if I'm being honest. I touched on this before, but I find it interesting that Athena tells Odysseus that he needs to put his emotions aside while actively being emotional herself. She's the one that's berating him, calling him a waste of effort, she's the one that sings a whole break-up song about it while Odysseus just wants her to be gone.

The lyrics and the musicality show us that Athena does care about him - we can feel that especially after Odysseus tells her that she's alone because of the notes on the piano, is almost like his words have a physical effect on her -.

Storm

The trumpets!

And we have Aeolus' motif.

Luck Runs Out

"How much longer 'till your luck runs out? How much longer 'till the show goes south?"

You rely on wit and people die on it"

Here we have Odysseus blindly deciding to ask a god for help. When we consider the fact that he just lost his best friend because he decided to barge in some place he shouldn't have, his choice to just climb to the top and ask for help makes even less sense, unless, you consider the fact that he took Polites' advice about "just asking for help" to heart.

Then Odysseus states that he still believes in goodness and that people can be kind - and we'll later learn that remains to be true even after everything - but he doesn't seem to grasp, yet, that blind goodness/kindness can have consequences - is no wonder we always say that no good deed goes unpunished.

Now, remember when I said that before Odysseus could both grasp when something was off because of the lack of smoke or because something was too good to be true? Why does that change? And it does, because he should've known how gods are - hell, he just had a huge blowout with one a few songs ago -, so why does he lose this hindsight all of a sudden?

Eurylochus' concerns are very valid - he has a point about Odysseus' relying too much on his wit to get people out of situations. He shouldn't have questioned him in front of the entire crew, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a point.

Here, we also get a glimpse of Odysseus' current state - he says that he took six hundred men to war and that none of them died there -, which is true, but why isn't he addressing those who died after?And get the (heart)beat all over this song too.

Keep Your Friends Close

We have the (heart)beat again.

Is interesting that Aeolus' remark about keeping friends close and enemies closer led Odysseus to be distrustful of his crew, and yet, the god didn't say not to trust the crew, she just said: "Keep your friends close".

But because of what just happened one song ago, Odysseus doesn't feel like he can trust the bag to anyone else, which means he doesn't switch shifts with anyone and ends up falling asleep.

"So much has changed, but I'm the same".

Storm motif.

Full Speed Ahead motif.

Poseidon shows up.

Ruthlessness

Oh, this song!

First of all, the lyrics do a great job of presenting us with Poseidon philosophy and character

"Guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now" This line here, oh is beautiful. Because Poseidon acknowledges that Odysseus and his men are dangerous (the pack of wolves) and that they can be brutal in their own right - he's not taking away their merit like many would in this circumstance -, but he's saying they're swimming with the shark (him). Meaning: They are under his domain now, under his control, and he now has the upper hand because he's not only distant from them but also has more power. (Credit to Mortius for the amazing analysis of this line)

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves"

I touched on this before, but I needed to highlight how I have seen far too many people completely miss the point of this song - not only on YouTube but also here, for some reason -. People argue that Poseidon asked for an apology which Odysseus didn't give and that's why he killed most of his fleet.

No.

The entire song is an exposition of Poseidon's philosophy - it's a way of showing us that he doesn't believe in mercy or kindness, that he believes that in order to survive one must be ruthless at all times. He's literally saying: "If you had been ruthless and killed my child, I wouldn't be here right now because I wouldn't know who did it".Or even then - I don't think he'd have sought Odysseus out. The reason he does is precisely because Ody decided to be merciful instead.

So is not like he's looking for a genuine apology - there was nothing Ody could've said that would've made Poseidon spare him -, he's just toying with Odysseus at that point.

Odysseus' apology (which he gave, in the ancient Greek way) wouldn't amount to anything.

We hear the (heart)beat again as soon as Poseidon tells Odysseus is time to say goodbye but it gets faster as soon as Odysseus enters the sound space and it stops completely on the word "scape".

"Captain, captain, captain"

When does a ripple become a tidal wave?

"When does a man become a monster?

"I am your darkest moment"

"The monster that always draws near"

We actually get Odysseus' acoustic guitar here too. Now, I'm still debating why Jay decided to reprise Just A Man here, especially with the ripple and the tidal wave (obviously, because they are at sea and all that, but I believe there's more to it than that).

If we follow the idea of consequence, it could suggest that this is the ripple effect of Odysseus choosing to spare the Cyclops, but it could also imply more about the Vengence Saga.

And as I said before, is interesting that Poseidon states that he's a monster and I wonder - did he mean it literally or figuratively? And I also wonder, how does Jay mean it? Because the whole concept of the man and the monster - besides reminding me of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and how in said book the allegory presents the duality of human nature, and how the balance between darkness and light is what makes one truly human - makes me believe that we might have an allegory at play here.

If - and that's a huge if - Jay is going for a similar allegory with Odysseus' arc it makes sense that he'd choose two disparate symbols of it (the man and the monster).So share your thoughts on this topic because I'd like to know.

Puppeteer

Full Speed Ahead motif.

There's a debate about whether or not Ody knew Eyrulochus was the one who opened the bag but we can talk about this later.

Circe's motif.

Here - we are once again presented with the theme of hunger - for food and for a woman/ for sex (let's be real) - and the "a woman" line always takes me out. We also get some context into Circe's character - a woman turning men into pigs once she feeds them -.

At first, we aren't clued in on the reason why she's doing. All she says is "think of your past, and your mistakes. They'll be the last mistakes you make".

And we again are presented with someone who has power and seeks to maintain it. This is our first introduction to her - she simply states that she has all the power and that she's not playing with people, but rather manipulating them like a puppeteer does.

She has the strings and she controls the outcome because she can twist and bend people to her will. The closest we get to something deeper is with the line "the world does not tend to forgive".

Wouldn't You Like

Hermes! I love him but there's not to say about this song, except that Hermes tells Odysseus that Circe can make him fall in love with her - so the fact that she tries and fails tells us exactly how much he loves Penelope.

Done For

Odysseus' guitar and motif.

The heart(beat) is very present here.

Here we are presented with more information about Circe's motivation. She states that she has people she needs to protect, nymphs she can't neglect. So in order to maintain control and power over the situation, Circe preemptively strikes before any harm can be done to her or the people she cares about.

Odysseus here tries to trick Circe but she doesn't fall for it. And the thing, Circe and Odysseus' reason isn't different at all - both want to protect the people they care for, but they're going at it in different ways.

She does tell him that the last time they allowed people to live, they faced a heavy loss. We don't know exactly what happened, but once can only assume that it wasn't pretty, so Circe learned from it and decided to use of her art of persuasion to get what she wanted.

There Are Other Ways

Here, Odysseus starts to repeat back what Circe said in her own song, almost as if he's slowly following her lead, until he thinks about Penelope and we hear her motif and her viola.

Here Odysseus vulnerability and the proof of his love for his wife is what convinces Circe to help them. She must've come across countless men before and I think is safe to assume none of them denied her before.

And that's the thing about Circe - when presented with a good reason to help, once she realizes that Odysseus just wants to go home, that he loves his wife so much that even after twelve years (lol) he remains faithful to her, and is desperate to see her, and that's a good enough reason to help him.

Circe already knows who she is, already knows what she's capable of and what she's fighting for.

Odysseus is on the way to figuring that out.

The Underworld

Full Speed Ahead motif.

"All I hear are screams"

The bells we hear are ringing the same notes that we hear in The Horse And The Infant as soon as Odysseus finds Astyanax.

"Captain, captain, captain"

"This life is amazing when you greet with open arms, whatever we face we'll be fine if we lead from the heart... Greet the world with open arms".

"Waiting" with Odysseus' motif on a different scale on the piano.This is the first time Odysseus truly addresses what has happened and what he's gone through.

Here he is, looking for the prophet to help him get home, and yet he's being haunted by the voices of those he lost and their last thoughts before they died. Yes - he's hearing their literal screams as they pass the river Styx, but is more than that. For the first time, he can actually see the consequences of his own choices and his actions.

No Longer You

Tiresias' motif.

"There is a world where I help you get home, but that's not a world I know" - This line here is brilliant, because not only addresses the fact that in the original poem Tiresias does tell Odysseus what to do and what to avoid, but it also further solidifies that this is very different from the original epic.

I see a song of past romance (Siren's song)

I see the sacrifice of men (Scylla's throat)

I see portrayals of betrayal (Mutiny)

And a brother's final stand (Lightning bolt)

I see you on the brink of death

I see you draw your final breath

I see a man who gets to make it home alive but it's no longer you

No Longer You is a great way of setting the stage for the next act, by providing Odysseus with a vague warning about a man who is hunting and a man with a trail of bodies behind it, it allows his mind to wonder and the ponder who that man can be. The interesting thing is - Tiresias is telling that the man that makes it back home is no longer him - as in no longer Odysseus, as in no longer the current Odysseus -.

At that moment Odysseus already has a trail of bodies behind him. Whether or not the deaths in the cave were his fault isn't the argument here, but rather that they happened and happened under his command. But here Odysseus is presented with a future and a past he can't change or can't control.

Monster

Odysseus' guitar motif that gets pulled away.As discussed by my amazing mutual @rin-solo in her Monster essay, Odysseus is non-judgmental by nature.

Monster is Odysseus debating if mercy is not the thing that has been killing his men all along, if him caving to guilt is the reason they're not making it home. He's not justifying the actions of his foes, he's not saying they're morally right in doing what they're doing.

Is the Cyclops struck with guilt when he kills? Is he up in the middle of the night? Or does he end my men to avenge his friend And then sleep knowing he has done him right?

When the witch turns men to pigs to protect her nymphs Is she going insane? Or did she learn to be colder when she got older and now she saves them the pain?

He's simply questioning if these people are allowing themselves to be stopped by guilt or by mercy, he acknowledges their perspective, he acknowledges that them doing the things they way they're doing them is what keeps them alive.

"Ruthleness is mercy upon ourselves"

Here Odysseus addresses those he lost again, and is the first moment where it feels like he's really allowing the grief and the hurt to set in.

I said it before and I'll say it again, Monster doesn't seem to about Odysseus choosing to become a monster because he wants to, but rather because he feels is the only thing he can do under the circumstances. With the context we get from songs that will come, Monster seems to become more and more about Odysseus not wanting to feel guilt about the choices he knows he'll have to make to make it back home.

He wants to throw the guilt he feels away:

"Does a soldier use a wooden horse to kill sleeping Trojans cause he's vile? Or those he throw his remorse away and saves more lives with guile?"

Monster also seems to be Odysseus' way of starting to understand his own morals, of coming to terms with them, of accepting things about himself that he didn't seem willing to do up until this point.And once again, we hear a choir in the background singing the words back to Odysseus.

[caracarnn]

While I do have show verses I will be TAILORING THEM basically au versions of the show bc Rand - is just...Rand won't be the Rand you see in the show. The Dragon is not the friends that you made along the way and Rand also didn't fck off to Cairhien to work in a mental health facility. He is v much Channeling and grappling with his own sanity at this time and he did fight his own battles. He also wasn't all HELP ME PLS to a fckn Forsaken. Just so show watchers know. It's a show verse but an AU show verse. ahem. He also cannot be shielded by ONE aes sedai and he isn't just a plot device for everyone else.

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."

[solardrop]

silver.

aaron hotchner x reader.

summary: hotch really doesn't think getting old is sexy. tags: fluff. a suggestive line here or there but nothing crazy. age gap (reader in their 30s, hotch is 57). jack mentioned. i think this could be read as gn!reader but i could be wrong. just short and cute. word count: 1.0k a/n: last fics rules still apply. be nice to me! when i look up photos of hair dying on pinterest i get rainbow haired e-boys so accept this haircut photo <3 divider creds to @/cafekitsune

Your name echoes across the house when Aaron yells for you from the bathroom. Once you enter the space you're greeted by his hair spiked in every which way, covered in a brownish-black goop. His thick hands are gloved and hold a small black toothbrush-like applicator.

"Sweetheart, can you check if I missed a spot?" Aaron hands you the brush and tray of inky black dye. You make a show of rolling your eyes and pouting back at him in the mirror and you take the items from him.

"I forgot it was that time of month that you decided to cover up all your sexy.." you sigh.

"Really," he scoffs, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, "I thought all the sexy was gone when I shaved.'

You almost teared up remembering the loss of his beard. A case off the grid forced him to grow one out for a few weeks. You understandably jumped his bones upon seeing the new look when he returned. The extra hair provided some out-of-this-world sensations for your softest parts that you would never forget. Only for the wicked man to shave all of it after two days, citing the "professional dress code" of the FBI as the culprit.

You snap a latex glove onto your hand, "Shush and bend over, big guy."

He smiles and kneels to face you, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs. You slowly worked around his head, dabbing bits of dye in bare spots. Your fingers rake through the inky black mass on his head, gently massaging his scalp. Aaron hums and thanks you under his breath.

"Do you know why I started dying my hair so consistently?"

"To torture me?"

"No," he huffs," when Jack was about... eight? I had taken him on this trip with a couple of his friends and their fathers, it was fun, but at the end of the whole thing Jack pointed at the grays starting to grow out on my hairline and turned to his friends and said-"

"Baby no...."

"'Guys look! My daddy is sooo old!'"

You clamp your lips shut to hold in your laughter. You didn't want to embarrass him further, especially with the deep red flush rising up the nape of his neck.

"Oh honey Jack was still a baby then... kids are insane you know that"

" I do, and I know. I laughed it off. I know he didn't really mean anything by it, but I didn't know if he felt like the odd one out for having an old dad.." Aaron runs his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. "And now I don't want you to feel out of place either."

You pause at that. In the few years you and Hotch have been together, never has he shown any insecurity about the difference in age between you. And he sure as hell wasn't about to start now if you had anything to do with it. You slicked his hair back with your hands and placed the clear complimentary shower cap in the box on his head, snickering at how silly he looked. Once you slide the slimy gloves off you set the timer on your phone and grasp the face of the man you loved so dearly, forcing him to rest his chin on your stomach and look into your eyes.

"You have less than thirty minutes to explain to me why you think I'd care about you looking old"

"you're young-"

"I'm in my thirties-"

"you're younger," he corrects "than me by quite a bit. All your friends have other young people to share their life and first experiences with. Meanwhile, you're stuck with a sixty-year-old-"

"You're fifty-seven-" Your eyes roll.

"a fifty-seven-year-old with a sassy kid turned angsty teenager for a child." he sighs, "Sweetheart I just don't want you to ever look at me and feel a loss."

You take a moment to scan his face. Despite the stupid shower cap mushrooming around his head, his face showed no amusement when he spoke. The sweet, shy smile he always sported around you was gone, replaced with a grimace and furrowed brow.

"Aaron I have never felt more loved, accepted, and safe than I have with you. I know you know that," you say.

He nods, pressing a quick peck to your belly button before looking at you. His eyes search yours for a moment of hesitation or change in resolve. but you stand your ground.

"The only thing I worry about with you on my arm is fighting off all the homewreckers."

He wheezes a laugh at this. Eventually having to stand up before he smears the dark dye all over you. He always does this. Laughs and acts like he wouldn't have crowds of people stop to fawn over his beauty if he let them.

"Remember that neighbor at the old apartment who would only stop by with cookies when she knew you were home?"

"Or the time Jack's classmate profiled their teacher's crush on you?"

"Don't even get me started on that detective JJ keeps telling me about from years ago in New Mexico. The male detective."

He smiles at you sheepishly, "You've made your point."

"If you want to dye your hair or shave to make yourself happy I think you should," you whisper, "but Aar I love every version of you possible"

You press your lips to his cheek before you continue, "You are the most beautiful, devastatingly sexy old man out. And I will still throw myself at you in public if you decide to finally ditch the box dye."

He smiles at you fully now, eyes shining as he looks down at you. He slides his lips against yours, grinning into the kiss before he pulls away to thank you.

"Maybe after this starts to grow out I'll see how I feel about the silver again." He looks back at his reflection in the mirror. He turns his head every which way to peek at the processing strands under the shower cap.

"Think about the beard too damn it.." you mumble. You begin to wander out of the bathroom when he yells for you again.

"Oh and sweetheart one more thing," you turn to look at him, confused when he stifles a laugh, "will you still think I'm sexy if I start balding like my father?"

[fox-guardian]

hey guys did you know that um. did you know. first of all did you know i'm losing my mind, secondly, do y'all remember in tma how when someone reads a written statement, they don't really Stop unless they're interrupted? and they read the whole thing easy cheesy, no issues with reading whatever words are there? like. jon literally could read french for a whole statement and was Fine. granted, that's Jon, but like nobody else struggled with pronunciations and whatnot (that i can recall)

presumably, this is an eye thing. either as employees of the institute, or because everyone there is just also eye-aligned in some degree (melanie had the ghost hunting show, the eye is fond of martin, etc)

and then there's tim in season 3 ep 86

[Sigh] Statement of… uh, Benjamin Hatendi… Hateendi? Regarding a… [papers rustling] a blanket. Dead friend. Monster. Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end. How he tried to hide. He couldn’t. Statement is from… 1983, March 2nd. And I guess… [long sigh] I guess I’m doing this one. Tim Stoker. Archival assistant… Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.

correct me if im wrong but i don't recall anyone struggling with pronunciations before this bit. but that's not even the biggest thing here, that's just a lil Taste, a lil Flavor.

note the phrasing there. "Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end." why would he say this when the written text on the statement says this:

Uh, right. Benjamin Hatendi’s account of… [rustling pages] oh for… a, a strange encounter. Er, statement date, March 2nd, 1983. Melanie King recording. Apparently.

"a strange encounter". that's it. nothing about an unavoidable death, just a "strange encounter". Tim Why Did You Say That.

why would our dear timothy bimothy, who is being pushed to the brink, who is becoming rapidly more depressed and losing hope, say this?

this isn't the only time he's said some weirdly grim shit tho (ep 104)

There was never really any hope for me, though, was there? This was how it was always going to go.

and then there's this bit from elias apparently having Looked into tim (also 104)

TIM All right, hit me with your X-ray eyes then, boss. What do you see? ELIAS Disruption. An unpredictable, angry man with nothing left but the desire to feel in some way revenged. TIM [Sarcastic] Ooh, terrifying! Surely only magic could have let you see so deep inside my very soul.

"nothing left" but the desire to feel revenged. and tim doesn't dispute this, because it's true.

when he first joined the institute he did so in order to look for answers about danny, but then he stopped seriously looking. and now that the circus is back, this is all the drive he has left. not looking for answers, just wanting revenge. closure. an end, if you will.

this is Literally It For Him. a couple lines later he suggests elias kill him, he's At The Breaking Point.

he is so tired, he's lost all hope, and he's saying all this grim shit about "unavoidable death" and "this is how it was always going to go" like hmmmm sounds familiar doesn't it. DOESN'T IT (<- is going insane)

(ep 11) [....] despite the rapid response of the paramedics and how much of his medical history I had immediately to hand, there was nothing I could do to save him. (ep 11) I have no responsibility to try and prevent whatever fate is coming for you. Based on my previous experience, such a thing is likely impossible anyway,[....] (ep 121) There. That was it. That was our fate; where we would always be.

hmmmm sounds a bit like oliver huh? everyone's favorite ex-accountant avatar of the end?? right??

but then there's this last bit i have from ep 86.

why did he stop reading the statement

Statement. “My parents never let me have a nightlight. I was always afraid, but they were ju–” Ugh, this is stupid.

why did he do that. again, correct me if im wrong but when else has someone just Stopped Reading like that without someone or something else interrupting them? why could tim just stop himself?

my theory is this: at this point, tim is completely gone from being aligned with the eye. he no longer seeks to know what happened to danny, he just wants closure. he doesn't wanna do any statement work, and he keeps mentioning these tidbits about hopelessness and the inevitability of terrible events, specifically death.

the eye isn't compelling him to read the statements like it does the others, because it doesn't have as strong a hold anymore. the grip is slipping from him. and by the time the unknowing rolls around, maybe it's lost him for good. maybe he finally fell into a different power he never meant to serve, and yet, he does.

and maybe. just maybe. because i'm so not in denial. but MAYBE. he did die in the unknowing. but maybe he got better.

basically end!tim truthers rise up, this is how end!tim kayaking with his bf oliver banks can still win, etc etc I'm Going Feral <3

[teaboot]

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 | 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒓𝒐𝒆

summary: you and Sam have a secret affair while your bf is his enemy. when you call him to pick you up in that slutty outfit of yours, he shows you what you‘ve missed while partying. - based on this request

warnings: smut!, arguing, cheating, mention of alcohol, smoking, oral (on both), unprotected p in v, cum, choking, orgasm denial, breeding kink, 69 position, dirty talk, dom!Sam but still whimpering here and there bc you cannot tell me he wouldn't

words: 6,5k (bro WHAT) + it‘s 5am so sorry for typos i‘ll correct later

"Don't tell me you're wearing that!" Sam's voice echoes through my room when he stares with jaw down at the dress I changed into. "Sam, it's none of your concern." I sigh, combing lightly through my curls so I don't separate them too much.

It was supposed to be a mistake, a drunken slip, a one time thing. It's been three weeks now and I can't force myself to pull away from the grip he has on me and I don't think he even knows how powerful that grip really is.

It's like I can finally breath again when I'm with him, even If it's never for long or outside our rooms. Currently he's at mine. He came over when I told him I'm getting ready for a party and well - one thing led to another and now he's sitting on my bed with his clothes back on (imagine it like in the picture at the top) watching me getting ready again.

"Are you gonna fuck him?" he asks, jealousy dripping from his voice. "No." I shake my head and glare at him through the mirror. I'm sitting in front of. Since I started sleeping with Sam I didn‘t let him touch me and Sam knew.

I notice him standing up from my bed and slowly stalking over to my chair. He leans down so his head is at the height of my ear. "| want him to fuck you, so you know I can do it better." he almost demands, suddenly tugging my head back with a hard grip on my curls I just styled so perfectly.

"Sam!" I hiss and roll my eyes at him while he still holds my head back. "You're gonna listen to me m'kay?" I gulp and loom at him through my long lashes, batting them at him. He leans closer again and I see his face upside down from my position.

"If you leave wearing that, then the second you come back I'll bend you over everything possible."

I feel the heat creeping up my neck upwards my cheeks, leaving a slight red tint behind. "You belong to me, don't forget that." he mumbles against my lips so soft that you could think he just said the most beautiful thing but his hard grip in my hair reminds me of the opposite.

I know he's obsessive, possessive, jealous. Kind of funny when you think about the fact that he's the affair with me having a boyfriend. And on top of that, his biggest rival. "Enemy" how my boyfriend James would always say.

James. He's the complete opposite from Sam. Mean, bully, rich, entitled, popular, typical jock. I forgot a long time ago why I am in a relationship with him in the first place.

I remember how he alway told me to stay away from Sam when I met him in the cafeteria in school for the first time. Not even a minute after James came and dragged me away from him, not without insulting Sam for speaking to me of course. I smiled at him apologetic, not understanding what was supposed to be wrong with him.

James said Sam's a lot into drugs and stuff but I didn't care. Half of the school is and as long as he's not harming others with it, I really couldn't care less.

I feel Sam's lips ghosting over mine, teasing me with with his hot breath. I love how he kisses me. It's always so full of life, passion and longing. When James kisses me it's just eager, sloppy and wet. Sam kisses like his life depends on it. As If he can't breathe properly but when his lips touch mine.

"Sam.." I breath out in a whiny tone. "Dress like a slut and I'll treat you like one. I don't kiss sluts." he whispers against my lips before pulling away and letting go of my hair. I sigh in frustration when he let's go of me and apply my blush with a pout on my face.

I hear him chuckle behind me, he probably saw the look on my face. "Don't pout angel, write me when you're on your way home later alright?" he grins at me, putting on his shoes and opening my window to climb out of it. I roll my eyes at him playfully, hiding a smile with it when I already feel the excitement in my chest knowing I'll see him later.

And with that he climbs outside and closes the window behind him, winking at me before walking away. It's a miracle to me how he tells me I'm a slut and how he calls me angel the next minute. He always does this, making me feel alive, giddy, like a fucking teenager.

Wait, I am a teenager. But I mean like a teenager with no experiences or one that never talked to a boy before.

I concentrate on my face in the mirror again, applying my favorite lipgloss before I take my purse and throw the lipgloss in it. "Bye Mom!" I shout through the house when I open the front door, hearing her calling me to have a good time and not come home too late.

I love her, she's not too strict and understands me, not forgetting how her life was when she was young like me. But at the same time she would kill for me and protect me from everything. It's a great balance. She trusts me and I don't overstep boundaries.

When I arrive at the party I dressed up for, I can already smell the alcohol and weed from a mile afar through my car window. I roll it up and park a few houses further away when I see everything full of cars.

But what did I expect right? It's James, I mean everyone in either jealous of him or of me because they wanna be with him. If they only knew how easy I would trade that ticket. So of course his birthday party would explode of people. He lives in a big house, his parent's house of course but I think he mentioned something of them being on vacation for two weeks.

I grab the birthday present that rots since two weeks at the backseat of my car and get out of it, making sure that I closed the doors properly. My stomach wrenched and the closer that I get the more my head is starting to get dizzy from all the weed clouds around me.

I greet a few people that I know, hug some of my 'friends' from our friend group and slowly get inside. The air inside is a little better but still smells like alcohol and sweat from the dancing body's in the big living room. "Y/N!" I hear someone shouting over the music. I turn around and notice James' best friend coming towards me.

"Hey Mike, how are you?" I ask him trying to be polite but the truth is the more seconds passed, the more I wanted to throw my gift at James and get the hell out of here. There was a time were I loved nights like these right I front of me. Where I was one of the dancing body's sweating and drinking, sometimes even smoking. But now I just felt so - out of place.. wrong.

"I'm good, I'm good. I guess you're looking for your boyfriend? He's in the backyard with the rest." I smile at him and nod, thanking him for telling me before I watch him disappearing back into the crowd.

I let out a deep breath. I got this. It's just one night. A few hours, right? And then I'll be at Sam's. God I have to stop thinking about him like that, he's just.. sex, right?

I walked into the kitchen, looking for something to normal to drink but of course they only bought alcohol. I took a red plastic cup and filled it up with tap water, taking a big chuck from it, trying to calm my nerves a little. Oh fuck it. I grabbed a whiskey bottle and filled my cup up with Pepsi and the alcohol in my hand. Yeah, that's better for calming nerves. I mean, I'm already here so why not try to have at least a little fun.

With the drink in my hand I leave the kitchen and open the glass doors t the back yard where James is supposed to be. And doesn't take me long to find him with 'the rest' how Mike said. 'The rest' is usually our friend group. I like them, I really do. But they're just.. not that deep. It's fun to party with them, go to school with them - well the ones that don't skip all of their classes, and maybe even talking about little problems like arguing with parents or fights with boyfriends and girlfriends. But that's as far as it goes.

Maybe that's the reason why I feel so comfortable around Sam. I remember the first night we had sex, he lit up a J afterwards and asked me If I wanted to. I shook my head and sat on my rooftop with him, watching the stars. I never talked to him a lot before, like I said James kept me far away from him, but still we talked abut everything that came to our minds.

Aliens, the universe, the stars, the whole fucking galaxy. How does everything work? Is the government telling us everything? Are there already people on our earth that don't come from here? Maybe it was the weed, but I don't think so. It felt natural to talk with him. Having a good laugh for the first time win months.

My heart starts to race when I think about that night with him. Sometimes I wonder If I'm - no. That couldn't be. It can't be. He would never also. Right?

I get thrown out of my thoughts when I feel two arms sliding around my body from behind. "Hey baby." a deep voice whispers into my ear. I know it's James. I smell his cologne and obviously I recognize his voice. His breath smells like alcohol, a lot alcohol.

"Hey James. Happy Birthday." I force a smile on my lips and turn around in his grip. He kisses me and cups my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together. "Thank's babe. Why are you standing here tho? Come on let'S go to our friends." He takes my hand into his and pulls me towards a little chill lounge where everyone sat with drinks or J's in their hands. "Hey guy's!" I greet every single one of them before sitting down next to my boyfriend.

"Here, for you." I smile at him and give im his present. "Thank you baby." he smiles brightly when he opens it and see's what's inside. "Hell yeah!" he grins and pulls out a pair of shoes. To be honest, I don't know what's so special about him but I knew he talked 24/7 about them with Mike and how hard they are to get to I asked a friend of my dad who had a lot of connections when it was about fashion.

"They are great, thank you baby." He gives me another kiss, sloppy and a little too wet. God how I missed Sam's lips and - no. "Yeah, no problem." I answer, trying to hold my smile up.

The night went by slow, my mind racing with the wrong thoughts when you're considering I'm sitting right next to my boyfriend. He has his hand on my thigh, and his other one around his red cup filled with liquor.

At some point I started to take drink after drink, probably not being able to drive later. I took out my phone, reading some messages I have gotten. Two from my best friend Lisa, who lives in New York, sadly, and one from Sam. My heart starts racing again so I take another sip from my drink before opening it.

"How's the party going?"

I try to hide a smile when suddenly a evil little idea gets to my head. Everyone around my was busy ding something so no eyes were on me when I took a photo of James hand on my thigh and send it to Sam with a little message.

"How I wish it was your's."

I bite the inside of my cheek when I wait for an answer, not expecting it to come as quick as it does.

"Is that you'r way of showing me how sorry you are for ging out like that?"

I swallow down the clump in my throat and try to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Is he mad? Was it a bad idea to send him a picture? I know he's a jealous type but I already have too much alcohol in my veins to be reasonable.

I lean backwards against the lounge I'm sitting on and take another picture. This time of my face and cleavage not letting a lot to the imagination. I bite down on my bottom lip and smirk into the little camera of my phone, looking up as innocently as possible.

"How about I show you how sorry I am later?"

What I don't know is how Sam's breath got stuck when he saw my message. He looked at it, imagining how he would rip that damn dress off and fuck me through the whole night. His hand wanders down to his hard cock, massaging it slightly through his sweatpants. A quite moan leaves his lips when he stares at the way I bite down on my lip. "Little minx." he mutters to himself when he closes the picture and let's go of his boner.

"Trust me, you'll be sorry. Have fun at your little party, angel."

With a smile on my lips I put my phone away again, grabbing my cup. "Why're you smiling like that? Who texted you?" the voice of James ask me, making me jump a little. "Huh?" I look up at him when he towers his head over me a little. " I saw you texting and smiling. Who texted you?" he repeats himself, a serious look on his face.

I sigh when I knew how this would go. I mean, he's right and If we're being honest, I'm cheating on him There's nothing romantic or noble behind this. He's right. But at the same time, he was jealous in a little meaner way than Sam is. I never cheated on James before and even two years ago when we started dating, he always accused me of cheating on him or texting other boys when in reality I've never done such a thing.

Oh, there even was a rumor once that he cheated on me with a girl from our friend group, Amanda. She's nice. But also knew it was true that she had an eye on James.

"Lisa texted me." Well, that wasn't a lie. "Oh yeah? And what made you smile about it?" he asks, glaring at me. I roll my eyes at him and look away, knowing he hates it. So I'm not really surprised when he pulls my face back into his direction and repeats himself again.

"What made you smile, y/n?" "Oh my god she's my best friend and lives in another state! I was just happy she texted me!" I groan annoyed and stand up from my seat, his hand dropping from my thigh. "Where are you going?" he calls after me but also doesn't make any attempt on following me so I ignore his words and walk back inside through the house and up some stairs that I know lead to a bathroom.

When I get inside I lock the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I pull my phone out of my purse and look for a certain name in my contact. I hold it against my ear when it starts ringing on the other side. Not even two rings later he picks up.

"What's up, angel?" Sam smiles into the phone. "Miss you.." I mumble into the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub behind me. I hear him chuckling. "Then leave, it's that easy." "You know its's not." I argue, pouting while looking into the mirror over the sink. I run a finger over the corner of my mouth, taking off a little of my smudged lipgloss.

he sighs into the phone now too so I continue talking. "he's gonna ask where I'm going and then will insist on one of his friend bringing me home just so he knows I'm not going anywhere else. And If I go without telling him he'll literally stand in front of my house after at least an hour."

"Break up with him." he says. "What?" I gasp, surprised he said that. I mean yes it is obvious that I should but not one time one of us really spoke these words. "You're not happy with him and you'll never be. You should find someone where you are." Someone. I don't know if it's the feeling slowly creeping up my neck and spilling over after holding them in for so long or simply the alcohol but I only scoff and roll my eyes.

"Yeah, right. Someone." my voice sounds cold and distant, pissed. "Y/n was you know what I mean.." "No, Sam. Actually I don't" Silence. And another sting I feel in my heart.

"See you, Sam." I chuckle sarcastically and press the red button on my phone. Not a second later I hear someone knocking on the door. "Y/n? Are you inside??" I groan when I hear James voice. God why can't he just leave me alone.

I stand up from the bathtub and walk over to the door, unlocking it. "Oh, Mike." I say, realizing it's not James. "Uh- James told me to look after you." "Oh, great? And he couldn't do it by himself?" I scoff, pushing past his best friend. I hear him sigh too and walk after me. "You know how he is." "An asshole?" I state, looking at him. He just grins and shrugs. "It's fine. I just wanna be alone for a moment, okay?" "Okay." He nods slowly and leaves.

I really don't know why he's keeping up with James bullshit. He's way too smart and nice for all of this. Well, just like me.

Still annoyed I wander through the hall of this ridiculous huge house, scanning all these portraits and pictures on the walls. My parents are rich too, really rich but this is just.. hideous A family of 5 living in a house as big at the fucking White House.

My mind races with thought when I suddenly hear voices whispering and giggling. I knit my eyebrows and try to be as quiet as possible to hear them again. They lead me to a big door to which I press my ear against. I recognize the voices but I couldn't quite put my finger on who they were so nosy me slowly opens the door a little just to take a little peep.

I didn't expect to see what was I front of me. My boyfriend. And Amanda. Making out on a couch. "When are you finally breaking up with her?" I hear Amanda whine like the little bitch she is. "I don't know. I told you this is just a one time thing Amanda." he answers.

What is going on? "One time thing? You're telling me four months are a one time thing for you?" she argues back. What did she just say? Four months? I close the door and take a step back.

I mean I know I'm cheating on him too. I'm no saint. But fucking four months? At the same time, I go inside myself for a moment and try to feel anything. But nothing. Not a single tear, not a single ache in my heart. I feel.. relieved? Am I crazy? My boyfriend of two years cheats on me and I feel relieved?

I quietly walk back down the hall, back down the stairs to the party. It's over. It's fucking over. I feel a smile creeping up my face when I walk outside into the backyard again. "Hey y/n, everything good?" A girl named Jessy asks me. I smile at her, almost laughing. "I'm feeling as good as never before." A giggle slips out my mouth when I sit down and take another drink from the table. They share a few looks but I couldn't care less.

I take out my phone and open the chat between me and Sam. Just now I see he texted me right after our phone call.

You know what I meant y/n.

It's complicated.

Please don't ignore me.

Are you still coming over later? I miss you

Miss your tight litte pussy around my cock

I roll my eyes at the last message but chuckle.

Oh and I know you just rolled your eyes at that

Wanna see your pretty (your eye color) eyes roll back when I fuck your attitude out of you

I quickly type in my answer, sending it with no regret now.

Can you come pick me up Sammy? I'm drunk and I want you, please.

Of course angel. Where do you want me to park? The street before the main?

Just park in front of the house

He was surprised at my massage but shrugged it off.

Alright. Gonna be there in 30.

I tucked my phone away again, taking in a deep breath. The excitement crept up in my chest again. Now that I knew James cheated on me too, I had a much less guilty for doing it with Sam. Old me would have ripped her hair out when I saw her sitting on my boyfriends - ex-boyfriends lap. But you know what? Let her have him. I know he's bad in bed. Let her realize one day she's off better.

After only fifteen minutes I heard them coming outside together, giggling slightly before sitting back down and pretending nothing happened. I played dumb and smiled at James. "Hey, where have you been? I looked for you." Yeah, let him sweat a little. "Oh uh- I looked for you too, I've sent Mike to tell you." he grumbled, glaring at his best friend.

"Hm, weird. And why did you came outside with her?" I point at Amanda, who looks at me like a deer in the lights. "She uh- she helped me. She helped me looking for you.." he stumbles over his own words.

I just nod when I felt my phone vibrating.

I'm here. Drove faster.

I smile at Sam's message and stand up without saying a word. "Where are you going?" James asks, this time following me. Amanda and Mike stand up too, following him like fucking puppy's.

"Home." I say, shrugging with my shoulders without looking at him. " You're drunk. Let Mike drive you home, he didn't have that much." he tries. "Oh don't worry, my drive is already here silly." I giggle, my stomach tingling in the best way possible when I see Sam's car lights through the windows.

"What do you mean?" James asks me mad, walking a bit faster now to keep up with me. I walk through the living room again and then outside the front yard where I see Sam leaning against the passenger seat door.

Before walking towards him I stop and turn around. "James, it's over. I'm not mad at you okay? I did the same. I'm just so relieved that you obviously feel the same about our relationship." He looks at me dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes and laugh at his words. "Oh come on. I saw you and Amanda and I heard you too and don't even try to deny it please cause I'm fucking someone else too."

I see the anger creeping up his face, ignoring the fact that he's cheating on me completely. "WHAT? Who the fuck are you talking about?" Then it hits him. He looks at me and beside me in the distance, he recognizes Sam standing against his car.

"You've got to be fucking kissing me you dumb slut!" he starts shouting and insulting me but I turn around and walk to Sam. I notice him looking at me confused but I just straight walk towards him, push myself against him and kiss him with all the passion inside me, in front of everyone.

I hear James yelling in the background, Mike probably holding him back. Sam's lips move against mine, his hands wandering up my sides, gripping the flesh beneath his fingers. "Fuck, what's that all about huh?" he mumbles against my lips, pulling away slightly.

Out of nowhere I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, yelling at me to finally fuck him. "I want you Sam. Want you to fuck me stupid." I had to giggle, I can't stop it. God he has to think I'm ging literally crazy but he just bites his lips and pushes me inside his car, driving off with me.

"What happened in there?" he chuckles and gazes at me for a second before returning his eyes back to the road in front of us. 

"You'll never believe! When I hang up I wandered around the house and found him with Amanda, making out and her saying that they are fucking for four months now. And I - I just felt so free all of a sudden. No tear no anger, nothing. Just free." I ramble my words down, smiling the whole time.

"So I got you for myself now huh?" I don't know why but my cheeks burned like hell when he said that. Did he want me for himself? I mean yeah well who wants to share but like- does he want me or want me?

When we arrive his house, he parks in front of the house, helping me out of the car and inside the house. "Your Dad home?" I whisper to him when we walk up the stairs to his room. He shakes his head and grins devilish. "He's camping or something. Means you can be as loud as you want, angel." I bite my lip at his comment and rush upstairs with him, him basically throwing me onto his bed but upside down, so my head is at the edge of the bed.

"Remember what I told you If you go out in that outfit, I'm gonna fuck you over everything possible?" he remarks with his voice so raspy in my ears. I bite down on my lip again, nodding and trying to hide a smile but failing miserable. "This will be the last time you're laying on this bed for tonight." he grins down at me and leans down towards my lips, licking over my bottom lip before kissing me.

I hum against his lips when I feel him nibbling on mine. When he pulls away his breathing gets heavier. Is he just as excited as I am? He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes the skin with his thumb. "You're gonna be a good girl, angel?" "Hmm of course."

"Good, then do what I say, alright?" he half demands. I see him opening his belt, and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. "You got me so fucking hard you have no idea." he chuckles while pushing everything in the way down.

No matter how often I see his cock, it always amazes me again how big he is, his pretty pink tip leaking pre-cum. He takes a step closer to the bed again and grabs my arms, pulling me so much that my head hangs over the edge. "You're gonna suck my cock and maybe I'll play with you." I nod eagerly and open my mouth for him, ready to take him in.

He takes his dick into his own hand and rubs it teasingly against my lips, biting down on his own lip. I sneak out my tongue and lick off the salty essence from his tip, letting it slide over and over it again.

"Hmm.." then out of nowhere, he pushes in, almost choking me with it. His eyes roll back before he moves his hips, fucking my mouth without giving me a moment to get comfortable. "Shit, it alway surprises me how well you can take it. Let's see how far you can." he groans, pushing his hips deeper.

I try to breathe through my nose and concentrate on pleasuring him, hoping he would reward me for it. "I'm gonna fuck your throat baby, 's that alright?" he asks before pushing in deeper after I nod slightly. "Oh fuck.." he let's out a deep groan and closes his eyes. "I can see my fucking dick in your throat baby. God that's so hot."

His gaze wanders over the rest of my body until he sees my purse beside me, my phone fallen out of it. He leans forwards, choking me even more and takes it into his hands. I see him start taking pictures of it and smiling at them like a artist who just found his muse.

Tears start forming in my eyes due the feeling of him choking me every few seconds. "Fuck you look so pretty when you cry baby but that's your fault hm. Got outside like a little slut. Remember, you act like one, I'll treat you like one." he repeats himself.

I move my tongue up and down at the side of his cock, massaging the prominent vein he has. I hear him whimper slightly, his tough facade faltering a little.

He let's his hands wander over my body, massaging the flesh beneath my dress, pinching my nipples through the fabric making me whine around his cock. "Fuck you like that, right? Think I'm gonna reward you for listening so good." he slowly pulls out his cock and let's me catch my breath. I cough a little and swipe away the tears that started to run down my face.

He looks at me expectingly and raises one of his brows. "Thank you." I choke out to which he nods and leans over my body, pulling up the front of my dress. I hear him chuckle when he notices the wetness soaking through my underwear. "You get off on sucking my cock?"

His fingers ghost over my aching clit, teasing it through the fabric. I whine out loud and push my hips up. "Please, please touch me Sammy." "Hmm but I', already touching you. Gotta be more specific."

"Pleeease, need to feel your mouth. Please." never in my life would I beg any man like that. But for Sam to touch me I would get on my knees and start praying.

He pushes my underwear to the side and laps at my puffy folds, tasting me and groaning. "You taste so good.." then he starts sucking my clit and I almost faint at the feeling. I let out a silent moan, bucking my hips but he presses them down and slightly nibbles at my clit.

"Fuck Sam!" my scream echoes probably through the whole house. "Suck my cock again." he mumbles against my pussy, adding a finger and teasing my entrance with it. I grab his hard cock and wrap my lips around the tip, sucking on it with a lot of pressure. "Oh yeah.." he groans against me, sucking harder on my nub.

I feel his finger entering me slowly, then another one so it's two and curling them up just right. I let out a long moan around him, squeezing my eyes shut. I take him deeper until he hits the back of my throat.

He groans against my clit, making me moan around his cock because of the vibration. It's like an endless circle of pleasure.

He starts pumping his fingers faster, flicking his tongue over my clit like he knows every inch of my body. Well – he does.

Then I start feeling it, the fire pooling in my abdomen. My walls clench around his fingers, signaling him I'm almost there. He let's go of my clit and continues pumping his fingers. "Are you close baby?" he asks tauntingly and puts his thumb on my now sensitive clit, rubbing it without any mercy.

I cry out around his cock, tears running down from all the pleasure around me. Never ever did James make me feel like this just from oral. Then, right before I explode, he stops. Pulls out his fingers and let's go of my pulsing nub, even pulling his cock out of my mouth.

"Sam!" I cry, bucking my hips into the air. "That's for leaving in that fucking dress." he whispers, kneeling down so his face is in front of mine. I huff out some air, pouting when I lose my orgasm.

He grabs my should again and pulls me up, away from the bed. He pushes me towards his desk with a mirror on it, grabbing my neck. " 'm gonna fuck you from behind and you're gonna watch yourself in the mirror, yeah?" "Yes." I answer, leanin forwards, my upper body on his desk now. "Spread your legs." he commands and pushes them apart with his knee.

"Look at that, I don‘t even have to fucking touch your dress, you‘re such a little whore." he spat when he sees my dress isn't covering my ass anymore. A sudden pang hit's me. I look over my shoulder back at him and see him grinning at me, slapping my ass again but this time a lot harder.

I moan when his hand hits my skin, making him smirk even wider. "I should have known you're gonna like that." he pulls my underwear down and positions himself at my entrance. "Beg for it, wanna hear what a little slut you are for me."

"Hm yes your slut only.." I moan and wiggle my hips against him, hoping for some friction. "Please Sam, I need to feel you inside me, please. I've been so good, please." my begging is like music to his ears and before I can see it coming, he pushes inside me with one go.

"Oh fucking hell!" he groans loudly, his mouth wide open and his eyebrows pushed together. "Fuck Sam, I feel you so deep!" I whine, grabbing the edge of the desk. He starts moving his hips, slowly at first and then fast like never before.

The sound of his thrusts, his skin slapping against mine could be heard through the whole house together with our moans and groans. Thank god his Dad is camping.

His right hand finds it way around my throat, squeezing it just lightly to make me feel lightheaded. "Look at yourself." he demands. I bite my lip when I watch him through the mirror. I could see the sweat on his forehead, a few hair strands clinging to it. His eyes are slightly hooded from the pleasure he felt every time my walls massaged his cock just so perfectly.

"So fucking tight I swear If I didn't knew better I would think you're a fucking virgin." I love how dirty his words are, every time. "God, you're milking me." a little whimper leaves his lips when I squeeze my walls around him, the sound going straight to my core, making me clench even more. Like I said before, just a circle of pleasure.

"You know what's the best of it all? At first it was more about fucking his girlfriend, knowing she's coming around my cock. But now I have you all to myself and I'm gonna die before I let anyone else touch you ever again. You're mine now, angel." he pants and Strats to move his hips in a brutal pace now, making me scream out his name.

"Yeah, scream my name so loud the whole fucking neighborhood knows who you belong to, come on." The grip of his hand around my throat get's tighter, making me dizzy but also so soaked.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good until your little cunt is dripping with my cum." I gasp at his words, my walls clenching around him automatically. "Oh you like that baby? Like the idea of me pumping that pussy full with my cum? Shit, you're like a fucking dream. Just as sick and dirty as me." "Sam.. please.." I whine, sobbing at the thought of his words.

"Say it baby, say it, come on. Let me hear it. Fucking let me hear you beg for it." he groans, his cock already throbbing inside of me, ready to bust. "Oh Sammy please, please fill me up. Come inside of me, wanna feel it so bad." I let out a few sobs again, watching him react to my words in the mirror.

His eyes roll back and one of his hands wanders around me, rubbing my clit in circles, adding to the tight feeling in my stomach. "I'm so close.." I whimper, closing my eyes.

"No no no, you're gonna watch yourself come around me." I open my eyes again, feeling tears pooling inside my eyes. I look at the desk beneath me, rocking back and forth, all his school stuff already on the floor. "Sam, please let me come, please."

He lets out a dark laugh and slaps my ass again with much more force than before. "Want me to fill you up real good? Wanna feel my cum dripping down between your pretty thighs? Wanna walk around with my baby inside you? Fuck you would be such a good mommy hm.."

My eyes roll back at his words and the crushing feeling finally explodes inside me, a broken cry leaving my lips when I finally come around him, milking him so good.

"Fuck y-yes oh I'm gonna come. Gonna come in that tight pussy." a whimper leaves him again, adding to the crushing orgasm I have. His grip on my hip and my throat get's tighter, so tight I almost can' breath.

With a loud moan he let's go, spilling his hot seed inside of me. "Shit.." I whimper, feeling him flooding my cunt. When I slowly calm down again, I look over my shoulder, seeing him panting heavily, his chest rosing up and down. He slowly pulls out of me, a little whimper leaving me.

He takes a step back and smirks the he scans my body, his cum running down the inside of my thighs. "Hmm looks so fucking good." He comes closer again and pushes his cum back inside. "Keep it there." he whispers inside my ear, leaving shivers down my spine.

He pulls me back up and hold me when he notices my numb legs. "Don't think I am done with you angel. I said on every fucking surface."

My wide eyes look up at him but only met with his devilish looking ones. "This is gonna be so much fun, angel." he speaks before pushing me against his window, my legs wrapped around his hips.

This is definitely better tan crying after a break up.

Sooooo what do we think? My first Sam Monroe fic 🤝🏻

hope u liked it and thank u for reading! 🖤

My Masterlist

xoxo sarah <3

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Good fucking day, Robot enjoyers! Gaze upon the updated semi-accurate height comparison of Bumblebee across the multiverse.

This is an updated version of a chart I made a few months ago. I had gotten some feedback and then TFOne came out and I kinda had to update it. I also added a Gen 1 Optimus Prime for scale, for fun... no other reason... (edit: slight adjustment made, just corrected a slight mistake in the order)

I am also working on at least two more character charts and one universe chart, so hopefully I can finish those soon (for some fucking genius reason I decided to do the characters that show up EVERY FUCKING UNIVERSE so I'm s u f f e r i n g)

*PST! Optimus, Megatron, Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide ones are done now*

Master Post

Listed Heights, Explanations, and Justifications below the cut, bc you couldn't shut me up if you tried and I had shit to say.

Gen 1 - ~10 feet (TFwiki says greater than 3 meters so I rounded up to the first whole number because round)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~10 feet (He looks identical to Gen 1 so... the reason his photo looks weird is because I couldn't find a good full body photo with him standing straight up facing the camera so I put two images together to make the worst looking photoshop job you have ever seen)

Earth Spark - ~10 feet (There is no confirmed height yet, but using this screen shot (see below) of him standing in front of a barn door, I was able to make a reasonable guess, bc I'm so smart.)

One V1 - ~13 feet (I am well aware of what the TFWiki says: 26.429 feet. And I fully reject that number. A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, and Bumblebee in both sets of LA movies does not exceed 20 feet tall. Ever. So, for sanity's sake, I have used the KCV numbers as my baseline. Bee grows when he gets his t-cog so shrink this one down a few feet. Look, I'm working on the Optimus chart rn, and one of the numbers from Beast Wars on the wiki was very observably wrong, and if I can dispute numbers older than me, I can dispute numbers 2 decades younger than me from fucking Walmart. Also, yes, his picture is 3 images sandwiched together)

Animated - 13 feet 3 Inches (There is no actual given heights, but in the comments of the previous version, @phoenix-inanis told me that they had done their own analysis of TFA heights and, gonna be real with you, I am blown away by all of their work and how detailed it is. Go marvel at how much work they put in -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4 )

One V2 - ~15 Feet (Please see reasoning above. Since this is as tall as we see Bee get, he's the same height as KCV Bee. Sweet fuck, I have put way too much effort into this shit)

Knight/Capel-Verse - 15 feet (No actual numbers, but Mirage is stated to be 15 feet tall (TFWiki), and he and Bee are like the same height, so... Capel directed the ROTB movie if you're wondering why his name is there)

Bayverse V1 - 16 feet (TFWiki. This is like the first 3 movies minimum, I don't remember when he hits his growth spurt. Also mr bay is king, we have numbers for nearly every character in BV)

Cyberverse - 18 feet (I'm gonna be honest, the only info we have is from a really shitty screen shot of a magazine. SO if any one has a copy of this book from the video below, a high quality scan would be greatly appreciated and I will kiss the ground you walk upon. Yes I found the video where the screen shot comes from leave me alone)

Bayverse V2 - 18 feet (TFWiki. Movie 4-5 I can't remember which one, I'm not re-looking this up. I fucking love the bayverse tho, this is the only universe with concrete and consistent this-character-is-this-height info)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - 20 feet (TFWiki/Fandom. Video game info screens you godsend, kiss me sweetly)

Aligned Cont. TFP/RID15 - 21 feet (These two designs are canonically identical, like in ALC canon, Bee has not changed visually at all...Ok, yes I got this number from fandom and they give literally no source for where they got these numbers. But, I can fully believe these are accurate. Just by looking at these characters on the show I can verify these numbers in my mind. Here, let's Compare.

This is Sam compared to Bee from one of the BV movies, I'm too lazy to check which one. Sam is average size for a human and we know Bee is 16 feet tall in the first three movies. Checks out. Let's now look at a TFP Character who is also 16 feet tall.

Jack is average size for a human, and the size difference is about the same. Can you see why I can't question the Aligned heights, even if they don't have a source??!?! They specifically made this universe to be full of freakishly tall robots for some fucking reason.)

Not Pictured: Aligned Cont. Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Academy Bumblebee - 21 Feet tall. Look, did you want to see all 5 versions of ALC Bee? No, you don't. They're all the same height anyway; the back row would have just been a wall of redundant yellow. 5 different fucking art styles in one universe, why is that one my favourite.

Here's the front row and the back row separated into their own jpgs. I know it's kind of hard to tell which Bumblebee is which when they're all together.

[mysticlael]

God, y'all like these <_< >_>

Dick: *Kicks the door open, looking panicked* Bruce: What did you do? Jason: NOBODY DIED! Bruce: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Tim: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Bruce: I hate to say ‘I told you so’— Jason: No, you don’t. You would marry 'I told you so’ and have a baby with it and buy adjoining burial plots.

Damian: I hate you with every inch of my body! Jason, looking down: That’s not a lot of inches.

Steph: My bad, It’s a knee jerk response. Dick, holding Tim's unconscious body: WHOSE KNEE JERK RESPONSE IS TO START THROWING BRICKS AT SOMEONE???

Robin!Tim: He called me the B-word. Jason: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’!

*after the Squad's plan goes horribly wrong* Bruce: Now it seems we're back at square one-- finding Jason. Tim: For the record, I already found him. Dick: And you let him get away before we could have a meaningful conversation! I'm telling you, just let me try- Tim: He stabbed me! Damian: I'm surprised he waited this long, Drake. We've all had the urge.

Pre-adoption Jason: I am very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I'm under.

Roy: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Jason: Um...Neat. *later* Jason, lying face down on his bed: I said "Neat," Dick. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Dick, upside down on the bed: Don't beat yourself up too much, Little Wing. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Wally confessed his love for me? Jason: ...Didn't you thank them? Dick: *swings up* I fucking thanked him.

Steph: Synonyms are weird because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy. But if I invite you to my cabin in the woods you’re going to die. Tim: My favorite is explaining the difference between a butt dial and a booty call. Bruce: It’s called connotations. Jason: Try this one on for size, “Forgive me, Father, I have sinned” vs “Sorry, Daddy, I’ve been naughty." Dick: Great news! Language is now banned!

Dick: What does “baka” mean? Tim: Moron. Steph: Idiot. Duke: Stupid. Dick: The fuck did I do?!

Bruce: In the past year you have managed to piss off the LAPD, ATF, CIA, FBI- Jason: NBA. Bruce: …? Jason: Snuck into a Cliffords game.

Tim: Oh god, he texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Dick... He's mad at you. Dick: No, it's Jay. He's just being grammatically correct! *meanwhile* Jason: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at him. Roy: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'. Jason: I stand by my choice.

[akanemnon]

I totally get not wanting to do the geno run, I remember wanting to start the run, killed a single monster, and deleted the save.

A friend was mean to me for giving up on it.

This was back when the game was just a few months old, and we were 14-16 years old.

It's just... like you said. I don't want to hurt the pixilated people. Makes me feel sad. And because I was maybe 15 years old, and very sensitive, made me feel extreme empathy for these characters.

I'm really sorry your friend was mean to you because you didn't want to go throught with the genocide route. These characters are written with so much love and care, that it is no wonder that you would get attached to them and wouldn't want to hurt them. I literally feel the same way.

I have no way to confirm this, but I have heard that back in the day people used to be really mean when people didn't play Undertale the "correct" way. That kinda sounds like one of these cases.

There is nothing wrong with not wanting to do the genocide route. There is also nothing wrong with going through with it. Undertale is a game and it gives you the option to approach it in any way you like. It also reacts to the way you do it.

In the end it all boils down to what you get the most out of in the game. For some people it's the characters, for others it's the fights, and then there are those who want to scour every single thing this game has to offer. Undertale has something for everyone.

I am more than content with only doing the pacifist route and never touching the game again after that. Yes, these characters are just a bunch of lines code and pixels, but in my mind, they're quite happy with the life I could help give them on that Switch cartridge.

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

[ashkabbom]

Would it have worked? - Mouthwashing

A/n: I think it's important to let you know that I haven't written frequently for a long time, but following something new has made me excited and with a peak of creativity, I apologize if I wrote something wrong or said something wrong 😭 feel free to correct me 🫶🏽

Versión en español en Wattpad: Libro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Cuenta: ashkabbom)

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

I didn't write this in a romantic way, but please give my writing a chance 🙏🏽

Mini warnings: Mention of bullets and death of the main character, I think that's all?

When you arrived here, expectations and nervousness went hand in hand, but regardless of how strange and weird everything around you was, hope was something you insisted on having at all times. Tulpar will be a good or at least interesting experience.

You really made friends, don't think you didn't!

Having someone like Anya to talk to in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep properly was comforting.

The dialogues you and Daisuke had were definitely something interesting, you got along well together, sometimes even Swansea was there too, claiming that two interns together wouldn't be a good idea.

Now, about the captain and him. The captain was actually quite calm, a very understanding man, sometimes he would join you and Anya at night... But he was something else. He could just be someone who was a little stressed and had a weird mood. There are a lot of people like that, right?

You remember talking to him and the captain a few times, but rarely, only when it was really necessary or just to relax.

A year transporting a load among so many stars, a load that you didn't even know what it was initially, it would be good to have a good relationship with the others on the ship, your companions after all.

You start to think as you stare at the sky projected on the huge screen, remembering the little conversation you had with your friend.

"Where do you think you would be if you hadn't come to work here?" Daisuke asks looking at you.

"Hmmm.. probably working in a supermarket I think. That was my option if this one didn't work out, so I would keep sending resumes to see if I could get a better job I think.." You say as you remember your old options, there weren't many, but there were still possibilities. "But what about you?"

"Honestly I don't know, I try to be positive about it.." Daisuke looked insecure and uncertain about where he could be now. "Would we still talk when we get back home? I don't know if I'm going to stay here after all this, their cake isn't the best." He tries to relax.

Out of all the people on this ship, Daisuke was the easiest to talk to and actually build some kind of relationship with, maybe because you two were the most positive in that situation.

Even with that foam everywhere on that ship, lost in a loud silence between the darkness and the stars, you were all going to make it back to Earth.

Maybe because you two were more naive than the others on that ship, the two sanest on that crew.

"Hey, you're a cool guy, I'm sure you'd be working in a good place!" A confident smile appears on your face, trying to dismiss your friend's worries. "Of course we would still talk to each other when we get back, we are friends after all, together here for months"

He smiles positively and you say not to go crazy before you, you laugh but are soon interrupted by Swansea asking what the hell you two were doing up in the middle of the night

It was kind of stupid. Maybe you two should have been a little more realistic about the situation. More than 4 or 5 months, shit, you didn't even have any sense of time anymore. No one had come looking for you yet. Had anyone noticed that you were missing and never contacted Pony Express again?

Sitting with your friends at that table, as if it were the day of that news, with everyone sitting together and the cake for the captain on the table.

Now, with a bullet hole in your forehead, along with your friends and that man, your head tilted to the side, you stare at the sky projected on the broken screen, wondering if this would have worked.

A/n: English is definitely not my first language, so I had a lot of translator help! Sorry for any nonsense words with other words.

I just wanted to write a little bit and I liked Mouthwashing, how the game approaches the theme of work and worker, each character's situation in relation to themselves and the general situation ^^. Feel free to tell me what you think of my writing and if you want me to write something, I wouldn't mind. 🎀

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

g'day! I hope you're doing well. Love your writing.

May I request a gp Donna and reader with a teen daughter who's giving them typical teenager problems like sneaking out, partying and such? Reader is scolding her but the daughter talks back and yells at her, and Donna is not having any of that and has a no one disrespect my wife moment. Reader gets turn on by it and they end up making love a little too loud to Angie's and their daughter's horror, whom apologies to reader afterwards.

Hope that wasn't too long! Thanks.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your kindness, and for your request, and no, it's not long at all, don't worry ;) I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A rebel daughter

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, family fluff...

Word count: 7,529

Summary: Young Beneviento it's just like you as a teenager, and that's a problem...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Damn it,” you cursed as you walked nervously through the house, glancing at the clock in the hall often. “This is unbelievable, Donna, what…?”

When you went to the old couch to ask for advice, or to vent to the lady in black, you found a scene that, under other circumstances, could be funny. The doll maker was lying on the couch, but she wasn't exactly conscious; her breathing was deep and her one eye was closed.

You growled, clenching your fists and walking towards her, clapping your hands.

“Donna!” you said in a brusque tone, scaring the lady, who opened her eye and sat up confused.

“Ugh… Lasciami dormire,” she growled uncomfortable at the noise, but her protests didn't matter as you approached and shook her shoulders hastily.

“Sleep? How can you sleep in this situation?” you asked nervously, holding back the Lord’s grumbling grunts for a bit.

“What? What's wrong?” she asked, waving her arms for you to give her some room. “(Y/N), tesoro, let's go to bed…”

“Have you seen what time it is?” you asked again, blinking nervously and pointing at the clock. “It's 2 in the morning, Donna, and Stella isn't here.”

“Mm, okay…” the lady whispered in a sleepy voice.

“Okay?” you asked mockingly, watching as sleep devoured the brunette again. “Look, the mother of the year… Hey, hey, Donna.”

“(Y/N)…” the woman protested again, frowning.

“I told her to come home at 10, at 10! And she still hasn't come back,” you said impatiently, letting yourself fall on the couch. “This girl is going to kill me.”

“Leave her alone, she must be with her friends,” Donna commented, yawning again.

“You're always so worried, aren't you?” you said, crossing your arms. “What if something happened to her?”

“Nothing happened to her,” the lady corrected, rubbing her eye. “She's not a child. She knows how to take care of herself.”

“Sorry, honey, but I think she's actually a child, she's 15 years old,” you said, laughing ironically and nervously. “Besides, even if you're right, she's disobeyed me again.”

“Maybe you're too hard on her, she's a teenager, and she does teenage stuff,” the lady said, shaking her head. “You know she loves to contradict you.”

“Forgive me for trying to educate my daughter,” you said frowning. “Your daughter.”

“Stella will arrive any minute, stop worrying,” she said, getting closer to kiss your shoulder comfortingly.

“It's easy for you to say it,” you whispered, calmer due to her kisses, sighing and looking at the clock out of the corner of your eye. “Donna, I can't help but think about what I was like when I was her age and… Well, the, the consequences…”

“Mm?” Donna murmured confused. “What do you mean?”

“Um, well… remember that I… well… Stella was born precisely because I was careless and…”

“You weren't 15 years old,” she said, upset by the comment.

Of course it was a hurtful comment. No matter how much time passed, Donna would never understand the fact that you were very young, too young to be a mother. You weren't ready.

“I know, but…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Damn, she does this just to annoy me. I don't even know where she went, do you know anything? At least she talks to you.”

“Me? No, I don't know where she went,” Donna said, pointing at herself and smiling after a few moments. “But… well, I can think of a way to wait,” she whispered seductively, starting to kiss your neck.

You opened your eyes wide, and although the proposal seemed tempting, you rejected the woman in black with a gentle push.

“How can you think about doing that now?” you asked offended, earning another growl from Lady Beneviento, who crossed her arms with a snort. “Our daughter is missing and…” you said, looking around and fixing your gaze on a small figure that moved slowly so as not to attract attention. “Angie!”

“I’m not here!” the living doll shrieked, fleeing from your call.

“Come here!” you shrieked back, pointing at the floor authoritatively.

“What do you want, silly?” Angie asked, approaching little by little, but keeping her distance. “This is not the time to yell.”

“Yeah, well, nice try, but it won’t help,” you said triumphantly, grabbing one of her wooden arms. “Angie, my dear Angie… You don’t know where Stella is, do you?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, let her be,” the puppet protested, breaking free from your grip mockingly and running to her owner’s side.

“Angie, do you know where she is?” Donna asked, with a calmer, softer tone. “Come on, talk.”

“W-Well, maybe…” Angie murmured thoughtfully, but before she could say anything interesting, the discreet creaking of the door distracted you, making both of you turn your heads towards the entrance.

“Finally,” you said relieved, straightening your dress and walking slowly, controlling your anger. “Hey!” you shouted when you saw your daughter walking subtly, ready to go up the stairs. “Stella Beneviento! Come here, now!” you shrieked, stamping the floor impatiently.

The young woman walked slowly with a face of having been caught, lowering her head, trying not to look you in the eyes while playing with her unmistakable black hair.

“Are you, are you still awake? Wow…” the teenager commented, still unable to look at you directly.

“We are, what a setback, isn't it, young lady?” you said in a motherly tone. “Let's see... what time is it, Stella?”

“Um... I don't know, I forgot my watch,” your daughter said in a clueless tone, turning her ankle on the wooden floor.

“Oh, that's new. You make up better and better excuses,” you said in a mocking tone. “Don't worry, I'll tell you what time it is... it's... 2 in the morning!” you screamed furiously, getting closer to the young woman, who shrank in embarrassment.

“Really? Wow...” Stella said, seeking refuge in her mother, who silently watched the conversation without saying anything, as always.

“Look at me, young lady... you've gotten yourself into quite a mess,” you said in a stern tone, crossing your arms. “You're going to be grounded until the day of...”

“What? Why? It’s not fair,” young Beneviento protested, stamping her feet in a childish way. “I told you I forgot my watch.”

“Tell me, Stella, do I look like a fool?” you said ironically with a smug smile, blinking in the same way.

“Can I answer?” Angie intervened, pulling at your dress.

“Shut up,” you growled, causing the doll to take refuge behind its owner’s legs. “Donna, for the Gods’ sake… say something.”

The lady in black was startled but cleared her throat, walking towards her daughter.

“Mamma, io…” the girl murmured, lowering her head.

“Stella, è un po’ tardi, vero?” Donna asked in a soft tone, with a look that didn’t have the spark of anger it should.

“Lo so…” the young lady sighed. “Ma era la festa di Paola…”

“Paola?” you interrupted, putting a hand on the brunette's shoulder. “The butcher's daughter?”

“Y-Yes,” your daughter answered, looking at you briefly and then back to the eye of her dear mother, her protector, unfortunately. “I was having fun, so I didn't want to go home that soon.”

“It's not about what you want, Stella, it's about listening to what I tell you to do,” you said, with a calmer, but authoritative tone.

“If it were up to you, I wouldn't leave the house,” Stella murmured, looking away even further.

“What? That's not true,” you said in your defense, forcing the young lady to look at you. “Hey, look at me.”

“Lasciami,” the girl protested, struggling with your grip. “Mi stai infastidendo.”

“What? Am I annoying you? Is that what you said?” you asked, glancing at your wife. “Did she say that?”

The lady nodded slowly, sighing at the tense situation.

“Oh, excuse me, your royal highness…” you said in a mocking tone. “Don't worry, Stella, I won't annoy you anymore, especially since… You're grounded.”

“No!” the teenager protested, clenching her fists. “Why?”

“Disobeying me,” you said calmly, crossing your arms with a cold look. “Now stop protesting and go up to your room.”

“That's unfair!” the young girl shrieked, with a look of hatred that pierced your chest. “You can't ground me for that… Mamma…” she whispered in a pleading tone, looking at the brunette, who sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Oh, no, no, Donna isn't going to defend you,” you said, looking away from your daughter to look at your wife, laughing sinisterly. “Isn't that right, Donna?”

“Um... well...” the doll maker murmured, moving you away from Stella, with a mediating tone. “Let it be, (Y/N), the girl has returned home safe and sound and...”

“I can't believe you, my love, the girl has disobeyed, she deserves a punishment,” you said incredulously, with your mouth half open.

“Forget it, (Y/N),” the lady said, gently grabbing your shoulder. “Stella was having fun with her friends, she wasn't doing anything wrong.”

“You see?” said the young girl, with a triumphant smile, resembling the Lord even more.

“I can't believe it...” you sighed, clenching your teeth. “Donna...”

“Hey, come on, it's okay... Tomorrow is another day, besides, Stella has learned the lesson, haven't you, signorina?” Donna said, hugging you affectionately despite your reluctance.

“Yes, I promise,” Stella said, rolling her eyes. “I'll be good, really.”

“Mm? How about that?” the brunette said amused, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Go to your room, Stella, it's late and you should rest.”

“Yes, yes, right away,” your daughter said, approaching Donna and giving her a quick hug. “Ti voglio bene, mamma...”

“Anch'io, tesoro,” the lady whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead.

The young lady nodded and looked at you amused, discreetly sticking her tongue out at you in a mocking manner. You raised your eyebrows, but you weren't in the mood for another argument, so you ignored her teasing.

“Great,” you sighed, crossing your arms.

“Good night!” the girl said, gesturing to the doll, who immediately approached. “Come, Angie, I have to tell you many things.”

“Oh… girls' night,” the puppet said, letting Stella pick her up as they climbed the stairs.

Silence fell over you both as the bedroom door closed and you, slowly and menacingly, looked at Donna, who seemed in a hurry to escape from your darts.

“Wonderful, Donna,” you hissed, shaking your head. “Wonderful.”

“Come on, (Y/N), forget it,” she said, comically running away from the threatening footsteps approaching her. “It's fine this way.”

“It's fine this way? Ugh… Okay, I've had enough Beneviento for today, I'm going to bed,” you said, exhausted and worn out, passing by the lady in black, who quickly followed you so you wouldn't go down without her.

“W-Wait,” she said, following you to the elevator.

Another day in the hell of your happiness. Lying in bed, ready to pretend to be angry with the lady in black, you thought about your past, about all the events that led you to that situation, 15 years ago.

You were just another young girl from the village, another unfortunate soul who decided to be born in that sinister place. Your life was boring, but your youth gave you the advantage of seeing the bright side of things, or rather, the fun side. Your parents were always on your heels, trying to control you so your pranks didn't go too far.

Going out at night, having clandestine parties, playing dangerous challenges... At 18, that was your daily routine. As a rebellious young girl, you were the best, but also you were the most daring.

You can still feel the cold breeze of that night, when the fun got out of hand and your friends challenged you to a very dangerous challenge. The premise was simple: enter the grounds of Donna Beneviento and stay there for half an hour.

It wasn't the first time you'd snuck into a Lord’s territory, but you had to admit that this veiled woman, dressed in black, and her talking doll gave you the creeps. Of course you would have done anything to prove yourself to your friends, and as scary and dangerous as it was, you decided to accept the challenge.

Darkness was encroaching on you, and your brain was busy forming shadows with everything you could see. Still, you always considered yourself brave, and you didn't look back. Time was running out, and you were going to be the queen of the party again, but before you could take a step, danger appeared in front of you.

Donna Beneviento, the doll maker, the youngest of the four Lords, caught you. No matter how many times you humiliated yourself by begging this silent lady for mercy, to kneel in the snow, you knew it was your end.

Of course, it wasn't. Instead of nightmares and torture, you had a little chat with the lady in black (through her doll, of course). You had heard hundreds of horrible things about her, but it didn't take you long to see that you were a little bit wrong.

Visits to the estate weren’t long in coming, silent teas in which you both looked at each other, exchanged curious questions and hidden glances. Youth played against you, and it didn't take long for you to change that kind of platonic admiration for an irrational and intense love. Luckily, the lady was also interested in you, and so, your romance began.

Donna was a sick, strange and lonely woman. Her beauty struggled to show itself overshadowed by a horrible scar that you never gave importance to. You loved her, she loved you. According to you, Donna would always be the most beautiful woman in the world.

But your 18 years old weren’t enough to realize the possible consequences of your actions. The Black Gods seemed to have had too much fun with the lady in black, altering her body in an almost cruel way. Once again, it didn't matter to you in the slightest.

But not caring didn't mean you ignored the dangers of making love to her without protection. Donna didn't make any effort to do so either, but you should have known that, you knew her.

You were young and reckless, and that carelessness led to an improvised scenario, one that you, even today, you didn't feel ready for. The test didn't lie, you were pregnant.

Your emotions were a whirlwind that could devastate the entire village. You were afraid, angry, sad... Negative feelings about the new life that was on the way. Donna, on her part, saw your pregnancy as something... well, maybe not indifferent, but unimportant. You couldn't expect her to understand all your doubts, your reluctance to be a mother at such a young age.

Despite the disturbing news, the love you felt for her didn’t diminish, and, in order to calm the traditionalist way of think of the lady, you decided to marry her. After all, you already knew that she was the woman of your life. You knew it before carrying her child in your womb.

After a few months of extreme care, of insecurities you faced with Donna, a new life came into your life, a beautiful baby, a girl with visibly black hair and a charming smile. Stella Beneviento was born.

Taking care of such a fragile being was complicated, but, the two of you proved that you could do it. Holding your daughter in your arms calmed your fears, and, as she grew, you realized more and more that it was the life you wanted despite your young age.

You remembered what your daughter was like in that tender time of childhood. A nice, polite girl and, well… saying that she looked like Donna was only the surface. She was a damn clone of the lady in black.

Adorable, cheerful… That girl was amazing, she was the daughter you always dreamed of, and the one Donna loved with all her heart.

It was a wonderful time that ended abruptly with the first disagreement you had with Stella. Her rebelliousness, one of the few things she had inherited from you, soon began to cause problems. Running away, disobeying, saying bad words (surely due to Angie's bad influence)… All of that became a routine that only got worse.

Donna was a good mother, she really was, but she did spoil young Beneviento too much, something you warned her about at an early age, but she didn't pay any attention to it. You reap what you sow, they used to say.

Your 33 years weren't enough, not even… well, you never really knew Donna's age, and the fact that she didn't get old didn't help at all: it didn't matter; the thing is that you were young, and inexperienced.

You couldn't help but feel that you didn't have the experience required to handle your unruly daughter, and besides, Donna wasn't behaving as she should, spoiling her daughter, something you were convinced she wouldn't stop doing.

“What are my girls doing?” you asked the next day at noon, bringing a steaming pot to the table.

Mother and daughter were sitting on the sofa, sewing, or at least trying to.

“Così?” young Stella asked, greeting you disinterestedly.

“Mm...” Donna murmured, glancing at the fabric her daughter was sewing proudly, smiling tenderly. “Buon lavoro, Stella.”

“Grazie, mamma,” the girl said, smiling triumphantly as you approached. “Hey, hey, I haven't done anything.” she said frightened, making a peace gesture with her hands, to which you frowned.

“I know that,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Do you think I'm always going to tell you off?”

“Well, you always do,” she replied, in a petulant tone. “Mamma is teaching me how to sew.”

“Mm, that's fine,” you said, nodding, playfully pinching the teenager's cheek, which made your daughter make an embarrassing gesture. “How is it going, Donna? Is she a worthy successor?”

“The best successor,” the lady said, kissing you softly on the lips.

“Hey, don't do that! How disgusting…” Stella protested, looking away while you laughed in amusement.

“That's it, you disgusting cheesy fools!” Angie added, climbing onto your daughter's lap. “Get out, out, out…”

“Hey, give me a break,” you joked, reluctantly moving away from the brunette's lips, who laughed with her eye shining. “Well, Donna, honey, let's eat.”

“Great, tesoro… it smells wonderful,” the lady said with a tender smile, getting up from the sofa.

“Hey… the table isn't set,” Stella murmured, surely knowing what was coming. “Oh…”

“Run, Stella, run before…!” Angie shrieked, pulling on the young Beneviento's dress.

“You're not going anywhere, young lady,” you said amused, grabbing the shoulder of your daughter, who gulped comically. “Set the table, will you?”

“You always do the same, what's the problem with setting it yourself?” she protested with a childish tantrum, crossing her arms.

“I've cooked. When you cook, I'll set the table. Come on, don't complain,” you said with an authoritarian tone, pointing to the cupboard where the plates were kept.

“You're worse than a sergeant,” the teenager growled. “I don't want to set the table.”

“Stella, please, can't you be a good girl for once?” you asked, rubbing your eyes, feeling frustrated by your daughter's ever-rebellious attitude, one that seemed like it would never change.

“I don't want to,” the young lady said, looking away.

“Hey, come on…” Donna interrupted, grabbing your waist to make her way through you two. “Listen to your mother, Stella.”

“Ma, mamma… it's always me,” your daughter said, looking at you resentfully.

“Well, it's not like she asked you to climb a mountain, right?” the lady joked, tilting her head, amused. “Come on, tesoro, we'll set it together, okay?”

“O-Okay, that sounds better,” Stella said with a triumphant smile, probably holding back the urge to make fun of you again.

“Oh, you two are hopeless…” you sighed, shaking your head. “Hurry up, or it's going to get cold.”

The lady and her clone, oh, sorry, her daughter, set the table amidst playful comments. At least you expected it to be a quiet meal, that's what you wanted to hope for…

“What's this?” the girl asked, dipping her spoon into the plate and playing unpleasantly with the liquid inside.

“A delicious, warm vegetable soup,” you said, serving yourself and Donna a glass of wine.

“Delicious? It has to be a joke,” the young lady said, crossing her arms with a look of disgust. “Mom, I don't like it.”

“Oh, your majesty doesn't like it…” you said ironically, shaking your head while Donna, oblivious to the conversation, began to eat on her own. “Well, I'm sorry, but it is what it is.”

“I don't like vegetable soup, I want mamma to make me pasta carbonara,” said the girl, grumbling and pushing her plate forward.

“Your mother is eating. Leave her alone, she's not your servant. Eat,” you said in a patient tone, enjoying the warmth of the soup

“But I don't like this soup,” she repeated again, with a defiant look. “Mamma…”

“Eat, tesoro, your mother made it with all her love,” Donna said, without looking up.

“No, she made it to annoy me, she knows I hate vegetables,” the brat said, looking at you furiously.

“Stop talking nonsense and eat,” you said with a loud hiss, but without losing your patience, yet.

“No,” she said defiantly. “I want mamma’s pasta.”

“Do you? Fine, then don’t eat,” you sighed, taking a sip of wine as Donna watched, impassive. “That’s your decision.”

“Oh, you want to starve me to death?” Stella said, pointing at herself to be more dramatic.

“Stella Beneviento,” you said firmly. “Eat your damn soup.”

“Oh, Mom, you swore,” your daughter mocked, making you growl in rage.

“That’s enough,” you said, slamming the table, causing Donna to slowly get up, without saying anything, and disappear down the hall. “Donna?”

The tense glances increased the tension of the moment. Your daughter looked at you and you did the same, in complete silence, an exchange of glances that could melt the largest iceberg in the world.

“Prego,” Donna whispered, appearing after a while and leaving a plate of steaming pasta next to her daughter.

“I can't believe it...” you sighed when you saw Stella's excited look at her new meal. “Donna...”

“I don't want you to argue, (Y/N). It's already solved,” the lady commented, sitting down again.

“Grazie, mamma...” the teenager said, with admiration, eating while holding back the urge to smile triumphantly again. “You are the best.”

“Donna...” you growled looking at the brunette, who shrugged and continued eating as if nothing had happened.

Luckily, that calmed the meal, turning into something like a relaxed lunch.

“Oh, keep my dessert, I have to go,” the young girl said, finishing her plate and getting up from the chair.

“Go? Where to?” Donna asked, with a curious look.

“I'm meeting my friends, it's Roberto's birthday,” the girl answered, looking at you briefly.

“I think you're grounded, young lady,” you said with an ironic tone.

“I think I’m not. Mamma Donna said I wasn’t,” the young lady answered, putting on her coat.

“Mamma Donna says a lot of nonsense,” you corrected, looking at an embarrassed lady in black, who pretended to drink water. “This afternoon you're going to stay home to work on your studies.”

“It's Saturday,” Stella said, crossing her arms. “Stop pestering me.”

“And you stop being that… Ugh…” you said, getting up abruptly. “Oh, no, you're not going out.”

“But…”

“I said no, clear the table,” you said sternly, pointing at it.

“I don't feel like it,” your daughter rebuked, in a mocking tone.

“Well then… then… go to your room and stay there,” you said nervously, losing patience little by little.

“Mm, va bene,” she said, with a strange smile, obeying you immediately, something that was not a good sign, at all.

“Va bene? Stella… come, come back here,” you said angrily, pointing at the floor. “Stella!”

You couldn't do anything.

As you could already see, the teenager wouldn't take no for an answer, and it wasn't long before you heard some familiar noises on the roof. Your daughter had escaped again, climbing out the window.

You were so tired that you could only collapse into a chair.

“Gods... she's out again, Donna... I don't know what to do anymore,” you murmured with your hands covering your face, on the verge of tears.

The lady in black slowly stood up, bending down to take one of your hands and gently caress it.

“Oh, damn it...” you groaned, getting up and walking out the door. “Stella, I hope you're here before dinner!”

“Yes, mom!”  You heard in the distance.

“Ugh...” you sighed, letting the lady in black hug you. “She's going to finish me off.”

“Shh, calm down, tesoro…” Donna whispered in your ear, gently brushing your hair away from your face. “Calm down…”

“Donna, if only you had moved away in time…” you said quietly, remembering past mistakes. “I-It doesn't matter…”

“Mm, let me pick up the dishes, and you, try to relax, I'll be with you in no time,” she said, kissing you softly before disappearing with an understanding smile.

You heeded her words, sitting down on the couch with a tired sigh. There, you began to remember better times, times when your daughter wasn't an unbearable brat but a happy baby, a polite and respectful girl.

Searching through a box of old memories, you found one of the old photographs from when Stella was little more than a crying baby. Your face was a smile, and Donna looked in admiration at the baby you held.

It was all so rushed and Stella grew up so fast…

“My girl,” you whispered, running your hand over one of the photos in which young Beneviento was the protagonist, one in which the girl lovingly hugged Angie. “Have I done something wrong?” you asked yourself, thinking, with the passage of time and failures, that the girl's indomitable attitude was your fault.

“I'm here,” Donna said, finally appearing and sitting next to you.

You hid one of your tears and kissed her slowly, snuggling up to her.

“Are you looking at the photos? We haven't changed much, have we?” the lady said, amused, also searching through the photographs, comically placing one of them next to her face.

“How funny,” you said in a mocking tone. “You haven't changed at all,” you whispered, sinking into her body, a gesture that the lady in black captured, surrounding you with her arms.

“Mm,” she murmured, snuggling you into her chest while she caressed your hair, kissing it in a loving, charming way. “Stella is certainly the one who has changed the most.”

“Yes…” you sighed deeply, closing your eyes to feel her caresses even more. “She is too much like me.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” she asked, with a soft and melodic voice, one that you adored.

“Yes, it is… Physically it's just like you, but with my stupid teenage mentality,” you said, looking at one of the last black and white photographs (due to the time delay that place suffered). “It's a dangerous combination.”

“Do you think so?” the doll maker asked amused, kissing you again and bringing you closer to her warm body. “It could be.”

“Donna, I… I'm, I'm going through a bad time,” you confessed, putting away the photographs and drawings of little Stella. “I don't know what to do.”

“A bad time? What's wrong, tesoro?” the lady asked, with a more worried tone.

“Stella is making me crazy… I try, I really try to make her a good girl but… she never listens to me and… I'm starting to get desperate, Donna, I'm starting to think that I'm not a good mother, that I haven't known how to educate our daughter.”

“Don't say that,” Donna whispered, caressing your face, lifting your chin so that you would look at her. “You're a good mother, (Y/N), the best one.”

“It doesn't seem like it…” you sighed. “Stella is getting older every day and I feel, I feel I'm not capable of… of even making her see me as her mother, do you understand? I think she hates me.”

“That's not true, Stella loves you very much, you're her mommy, remember? Mommy, mommy, the monsters in the closet scare me,” she said, imitating the voice of a little girl, something that, at least, made you smile.

“Those times are long gone,” you said with nostalgia, shaking your head and letting a tear slide down your cheek. “I wish I could go back and... it doesn't matter, Donna, just, just hold me, okay?”

“With pleasure, amore mio...” the doll lady whispered, letting you drown your tears in her clothes, a cry of desperation and rage, of frustration, that the lady in black knew how to understand and relieve.

The afternoon passed like that, with a relaxing silence, with her kisses, whispers and caresses relaxing your worries, at least until the shrill sound of the phone interrupted that peaceful tranquility.

“I'll go, darling,” you said, moving away from her embrace to go to the vibrating phone. “(Y/N) Beneviento on the phone, who is it?”

“Oh, I was hoping to talk to Donna, but I guess you'll do,” the smug, mocking voice on the other end told you, without words, who it was.

“Karl…” you whispered, rolling your eyes as you recognized the Lord. “What do you want?”

“What manners,” the man mocked, laughing amused. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes, my life, do you want to talk to Donna?” you asked, looking at the lady, who frowned, absentmindedly playing with Angie, surely excited by the call, as always.

“It's not necessary… I'm just calling you to say that my dear little niece had a lot of fun this afternoon,” he said passively, immediately putting you on alert.

“What?” you asked startled. “Stella?”

“Yeah, yeah... Apparently she and her friends thought it was funny to sneak into my factory and waste my resources,” he commented, with the same arrogance.

“Gods... what happened?” you asked nervously, playing with the phone cord while Donna also approached.

“Your kid broke into my factory with two of her friends, activated two of my soldats and created a mess that I had to clean up myself...”

“Shit,” you said furiously. “Is she okay?”

“Perfectly fine, she's here, with me… hey, brat, do you want to talk to your mother? No? I assumed so,” Karl said, laughing mockingly. “I guess you want her back, right?”

“Y-Yes, bring her here, please,” you asked, breathing heavily.

“Of course...”

After that you hung up abruptly, growling furiously.

“What's wrong, (Y/N)? What happened?” Donna asked, calming your frightened fury.

“Your daughter, Donna, that's what happened,” you hissed, moving away from the lady in an unpleasant manner. “She's sneaked into your brother's factory and… Gods…”

The wait seemed like an eternity to you, but finally the Lord arrived next to your daughter, who kept her head down.

“This is yours, right?” the metal man said, gently pushing his niece.

“Karl, I'm sorry for the inconvenience,” you said apologetically while Donna followed her daughter with her gaze. “If there's something we can do…”

“Oh, no, no, it's not important. It's just kids' stuff, isn't it?” he said, turning gracefully and waving his hand. “Arrivederci…”

“Um…” the teenager muttered, scratching the back of her neck, possibly nervous because of your furious look as you closed the door and turned to look at her, arms crossed. “I'd better go to my room.”

“Hey, hey, hey… Not so fast, miss,” you said, preventing her escape with a strong grip on her arm. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Hey, I didn't do anything. My friends challenged me and…” the young lady said, pathetically apologizing.

Donna as always, just watched, perhaps with a colder than usual expression.

“Of course, your friends… How could you possibly sneak into your uncle's factory!? Have you lost your mind? You could have hurt yourself,” you snapped, shaking your head, still holding on to your daughter.

“Nothing happened to me, see? I'm fine,” she said cockily. “I was just having fun. Besides, Uncle Karl doesn't care.”

“Maybe he doesn’t because he's a crazy maniac, but I do, Stella, I'm sick of you doing whatever you want all the time,” you growled, waving your arm and pointing your finger at her, who moved furiously, pushing you in an unpleasant way.

“You’re not in charge!” she shrieked childishly, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“I'm your mother, Stella! You have to obey me!” you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Are you my mother?” she asked, in a defiant tone, getting a little closer. “Did you want to be?”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, shaking your head and blinking erratically.

“I know! I know you didn't love me! That I was just a mistake!” your daughter shrieked, leaving you frozen.

“You don't know what you're saying,” you hissed, terribly hurt by the comment. “You have no idea…”

“Of course I have, you don't have to be a genius to see that you're very young,” Stella said, taking advantage of your weakness. “You're only overprotective because you didn't know how to be with yourself, and that's why I was born!”

“Stop talking like that, brat, you're pissing me off…” you threatened more intensely. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense! You're demanding something from me that you weren't capable of doing!” she protested again, irremediably winning the conversation.

“I demand you to obey me, Stella!” you screamed, increasing the tension even more. “Donna!” you said, looking at the lady in black, who listened to the screams expressionless while you began to sob. “For the Gods’ sake, do something!”

“You ask her for help because you know I'm right,” Stella said with a mocking smile, while you shook your head. “Don't blame me for your complexes.”

“Go to your room!” you yelled angrily, pointing to the stairs.

“No! You're unbearable, mom!” the young lady yelled back, making you back away. “I can't stand you... I don't love you... I wish you weren't my mother,” she hissed through clenched teeth, making you sigh and sob louder.

“Honey...” you said with a broken voice, noticing a hand on your shoulder that moved you a bit. “No…”

Donna approached, walking with a somewhat hurried steps and a nervous breathing.

Without saying a single word, with a look full of anger, she stood in front of your daughter, giving her a resounding slap that left the mansion completely silent.

“Mamma…” Stella sighed, with the hand on her cheek and her eyes wide open.

You shook your head, surprised by what you had just seen, unable to believe it.

“Donna…” you gasped, without taking your gaze off the silently enraged lady, who was staring your daughter's eyes and getting a little closer, threatening.

“Don't ever talk your mother like that again, have you heard me?” she whispered with a dark, dangerous, authoritative voice, a voice like yours had never been. “Mi hai sentito!?”

“S-Sì…” Stella murmured, stunned, looking in terror at her mother, who remained surprisingly firm.

“Fine,” Donna said, hands on hips. “Now go to your room, and don't come out until you apologize to your mother.”

“But…”

“Go to your room! Vai!” the lady in black shrieked, pressing her lips tightly together and pointing at the stairs. “Vai!”

“Sì, mamma,” the teenager whispered, turning slowly and picking Angie, her silent defender, up from the floor. “Co-Come on Angie…”

“You'll pay for this, silly Donna!” the doll shouted, making mocking gestures in the arms of the young lady, who climbed the stairs sobbing.

“Shut your mouth or I'll deactivate you!” Donna shrieked, causing the doll to take refuge even in the arms of her young owner. “Cazzo…”

“Donna,” you said, leaving some time for the lady to calm down and approaching from behind, turning her body slowly. “Gods, Donna…”

“What?” she asked with her gaze still enraged. “I haven't done anything to her, it was more of a caress than a slap,” she said defending herself against what she thought was a protest from you.

“I know, my love… Wow, so you do have character,” you said smiling, noticing a lustful feeling forming inside you, an unexpected one.

“I won't allow anyone to insult you, (Y/N), not even that brat,” the lady said, without hugging you back, looking away. “You're right, she needs manners.”

“Mm, yes… and you're going to teach them to her, aren't you, my love?” you purred in her ear, making her hands go straight to your waist and her brow furrow.

“If it's necessary, I will do it,” Donna said, sure of herself. “She won't insult you again, you have my word.”

“Oh, I like your word,” you said with a velvety voice, approaching her lips slowly, devouring them wetly, startling the lady in black, who moved away confused.

“Um, what, what are you doing?” she asked, holding your wrists, which were already starting to play with her dress. “(Y/N)?”

“It's just that... seeing you so... authoritative, so... firm...” you said, playing with your finger on her chest, one that her eye followed with curiosity. “Donna, you've turned me on.”

“Me hitting our daughter has turned you on?” the lady asked, surprised and horrified.

“No, silly...” you said, shaking your head and pulling her hand towards the living room. “What has turned me on is… seeing you defend me like that… I’ve wanted to see you that way for a long time.”

“(Y/N), please, I don’t…” she said, nervous, while you cornered her against the desk, changing positions with a soft movement of your hands and sitting on the old wooden table.

“Shh, shut up, my love…” you whispered in her ear, bringing her closer with a soft tug on her dress. “Now, tell me how naughty I am…”

“(Y/N), it’s not the time for… (Y/N),” Donna said, opening her eye wide when your hand passed over the black fabric, noticing the incipient bulge that revealed her erection at your words. “H-Hey… don’t…”

“Oh, wow, I think so, my love,” you said amused, tightening your grip on her covered shaft, causing the lady in black to gasp irresistibly. “Look at you… You’re so hard…”

“I-It's your fault,” she said, shaking her head, but allowing herself to enjoy your intense grip. “Cazzo…”

“Don't swear, Donna,” you said amused, playing with your underwear until you pushed it aside, with your lips very close to hers. “I prefer you to use that mouth of yours to kiss me.”

“Oddio…” she sighed, finally letting herself be carried away by your deep kisses, by the soft swaying of your hips on the desk. “(Y/N)…”

“My love… I love you…” you sighed, noticing how her impatient hands fought with the skirt of her dress, releasing her throbbing erection while playing with your body to position it correctly.

That improvised declaration of love made the lady stop before brushing against your impatient wetness, briefly caressing your face.

“Ti amo, (Y/N)… tu sei la mia vita,” she whispered, taking a moment to kiss you romantically, ignoring her throbbing desire, which was already rubbing against yours.

“Mm, baby…” you purred, laughing embarrassedly at those hot and romantic whispers. “Come, I don't know how much time we have.”

Quickly, ignoring the foreplay, you gently grabbed her erection, stimulating it for a while before inserting it into you with ease, something that always made you moan outrageously.

“Shh, tesoro…” Donna whispered to you, covering your mouth, fighting against her own pleasure. “Not that loud.”

“Mm, I'm sorry… you're so big,” you moaned, writhing in pleasure at how your walls stretched to make way for her hurried thrusts. “Donna, Gods…”

The lady growled as she felt the pressure of your body on hers, as she felt that lascivious and wet embrace, as she slid with extreme ease. Of course, you weren't lying when you told her that the situation had turned you on.

That Donna defended you with rage, with fury, was something you always loved, something that made you remember every day why you loved her, why you started such a wonderful family with her.

“Fuck, yes! Oh, Donna, dominate me! Harder, my love!” you moaned loud, succumbing to the pleasure and forgetting about discretion as her thrusts accelerated and her moans lost their modesty as well.

“That's what you want, isn't it?” the lady said amused, coming out of you to grab you by the waist, turning you around abruptly, causing an annoying noise as it made the things on the desk shake. “You're a very bad doll…”

“Yes, yes, I'm the worst!” you squealed, moving eager to feel her again, rubbing your hips against her erection, one that was quick to take you from behind, moving you along with the table. “Yes, Donna, yes, fuck me!”

“Mm, così stretta…” the lady murmured, gripping your hips tightly, guiding them to her desired rhythm, only letting them go to give you a few soft, spicy spanks, completely lifting your dress.

“More, Donna!” you screamed, feeling your body tightening more and more, motivated by the moans and grunts of pleasure from the brunette. “Donna, I'm going to… I'm going to cum!”

“Cazzo! (Y/N)!” the lady screamed, panting as your body went crazy, squeezing her with your walls, causing her own release inside of you, wetting you with her warm seed. “(Y/N)…”

“Mm, Donna, that was…” you said laughing, moving your hips with her still inside you and feeling the wetness running down your legs. “…amazing”.

“Y-Yes…” she said, slowly withdrawing and covering herself with her dress, pulling yours down as well. “I-I hope Stella didn't hear us,” she said, catching her breath as you turned around, capturing her lips briefly.

“Bah, I'm sure she didn’t,” you said, teasingly pulling on her lower lip. “Well… How about we take a bath? We've earned it.”

“Certo,” Donna said, with a tired smile. “I'll make dinner later.”

“It's a perfect plan, my love,” you whispered, walking hand in hand with her towards the elevator.

Of course it was. A relaxing bath with your wife managed to dispel that bitter moment, the argument with your daughter that Donna miraculously solved. You didn't want to think about it too much, but you couldn't help but think about whether that severe, but necessary, attitude of the lady of the dolls had served any purpose.

“Stella! Dinner is ready!” you shouted, looking at the stairs, a bit calmer. “I really want to try this lasagna…”

“Mm, that's what you always say,” Donna said, winking at you with complicity, due to that passionate outburst earlier. “Where's the girl?”

“I've already called her, she's probably still upset,” you commented, pouring yourself a glass of wine and looking back at the hall. “Stella! Come down, we have lasagna!”

Nothing, silence was your only response.

“Do you think…?” the lady in black asked, frowning.

“Gods, I should have imagined…” you sighed, standing up hastily. “She's run away again.”

Just when you were about to go through the whole territory to look for your rebellious daughter, the teenager appeared before you. Her head was looking at the floor and Angie accompanied her in silence.

“Well, you've finally decided to come down, come…” you sighed, gently pushing the young lady by her back. “Your mother made lasagna for you.”

“Grazie, mamma,” the young Beneviento murmured, without looking into her mother's eye, surely resentful of that ridiculous slap.

“Mm, niente,” Donna said, with a slightly petulant tone. “Siedeti.”

The young girl nodded and obeyed silently.

Yes, silence would be a good summary for that dinner.

“Um… Mom,” Stella said, with her gaze lowered, addressing you cautiously.

“What do you want, darling?” you asked with a tender smile, looking at Donna, who did the same.

“I'm sorry,” the young woman whispered. “I'm sorry about saying… those things to you.”

“Mm,” you murmured, listening attentively. “Good.”

“I really am… well I… I was angry because Uncle Karl caught me and… I mean I shouldn't have done it and… I shouldn't have… talked to you like that… Will you forgive me, Mom?” Stella said, now looking at you pleadingly.

“Oh, honey, of course I will,” you said with a smile, caressing your daughter's cheek. She stood up and, along with a sob, hugged you tightly.

“I'm sorry, Mom… what I said isn't true, I love you very much, I love you both very much and… I promise, I promise to behave better from now on, I'll be a good girl…” she said sobbing, letting your hug comfort her.

“Really?” you said suspiciously, glancing sideways at Donna, who smiled tenderly. “Honey…”

“Yes, really, but… Angie and I have something else to ask you,” your daughter said, moving away and turning exaggeratedly red. “A-Angie…”

“Listen carefully!” the doll said, causing you and the lady to look at each other with an arched eyebrow. “You disgusting fools!”

“Angie… What is it? Stella?” the brunette asked, curiously.

“Please don't… don't… do… that… again… in the living room… or… or at least don't shout that loud… You're going to cause me trauma…”

[utilitycaster]

this may seem needlessly finicky but I do actually believe it's important: calling Verin a himbo is just one of many examples where like, one of the cast says something off the cuff and it's not exactly the right word or it is highly contextual, and that is fine because no one is perfect especially in improv, but then it gets repeated ad infinitum within the fandom when it never really fit in the first place. We have Verin's stats and he's decently more intelligent than average with a 13 (smarter than most of Bells Hells for one; as smart as Pike); it's just he's the guy with a bachelor's degree with good grades followed by military service in a family where everyone has two PhDs - Matt said "himbo of the family" the way in a family where most people are exceptionally tall you'd call the 5'11" child the short one. In Call of the Netherdeep he appears as thoughtful and competent and promoted to a difficult position at a very young age, and in the campaign his appearance is simultaneously as a leader of troops in a dangerous mission, and someone who cares enough about poetry from a completely foreign and distant culture to have tried to learn more about it. I'm sorry, but if you're using the word "himbo" I don't think you're processing a thing about the character yourself; you're just the latest repetition in a game of telephone that's been going on since mid-2021.

And that's not deeply bad on the surface, and I'm using Verin not because he is the character most wronged by this sort of thing but because he's recent and it's really clear where the word came from and that it's not a good assessment, but something I happen to have a decent knack for is pattern recognition in language. I usually find it really easy to pick up on when someone's plagiarized because of the language and pattern shifts. I tend to remember urls and out of place words well. So I do tend to notice when everyone suddenly starts using a single turn of phrase and I tend to flag it. Sometimes that's not bad; sometimes it means everyone came to a similar conclusion and that's the best way to express that conclusion. But like, when Taliesin called the Yios episode a gas-leak episode and the entire fandom started parroting it? The line "bone-dry takes"? The fact that a lot of ship defenses I see were phrased precisely as "I have eyes"? without actually talking about the ship itself? the fact that I've seen a spike in the use of the term "ontologically evil" including in myself and not all uses are actually correct? And extending this beyond strictly language but consider any headcanon with minimal textual support that catches like wildfire (sidebar: remember how we make, or made fun of the SPREAD THIS LIKE WILDFIRE tendency on Tumblr a decade ago? same concept of repetition of a specific turn of phrase without internalizing) all sort of ping this.

And it's fine, truly, to come to fandom and turn off your brain. I know this will sound sarcastic from me, and that's because I don't personally agree, but I do strongly agree that you can do what you want in fandom and you don't have to listen to my opinions so in the end, yeah, it's fine because I am not the arbiter of "fine". But I think critical thought is a vital exercise and I think precision with language is part of it and so if you find yourself using the same exact words and thoughts as everyone else, that should, ideally, trigger a process of "but are these the right words? what do I see when I see this character and how would I describe them? do I agree with this assessment?" Fandom is an interesting and easier microcosm than reality in which to start doing that.

[nohaijiachi]

Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside

Before we get into the subject matter of the title let me preface a couple of things:

1- All that will follow is, big surprise, my opinion and my interpretation of this character. Do I think I am The One And Only Who Gets The Blorbo Right and that my ideas are 100% the way the author(s) intended to convey the character? No.

More likely than not the way I see Aziraphale could be intensely different from the way Authorman sees him, or Actorman sees him, and I don't think that my interpretation is necessarily any more correct than anybody's else.

That said, if I also did not think that I am, in fact, correct on a certain level, I wouldn't have bothered forming such a thought out opinion of Aziraphale in the first place, nor would be sitting here, writing this post that I can already tell is going to be entirely too long and might probably ruffle some feathers.

So I'll be writing the rest of this post with the caveat that I while I do think my interpretation correct, I'm also not trying to change anybody's mind nor to discredit anybody's else interpretation of Aziraphale. We can sit here in the sandpit and hold different opinions and still be able to build sandcastles together, it really isn't that deep at the end of the day; I can assure you, I'm not here to fight nor cause fights with this one.

2- With the above point, comes also the fact that I won't bother continuously saying "In my opinion" for the rest of this post. You already know that. So, if something will come across as a bit caustic, do know that it is very much tongue in cheek and I am poking a bit of fun at general fannish habits that I am also very much quote-unquoute 'guilty' of having partaken into, and will partake into again plenty of times in the future, I'm sure.

So, with that: Here's Why I Think The Fandom Has Been Doing Aziraphale Dirty Ever Since Season 1 And It's Only Gotten Worse With Season 2 And It's Killing Me Inside

A large part of the people comprising this fandom prefers Crowley. There, I said it.

This fandom's preference blatantly skews toward Crowley. Can we admit that openly? Let's admit that openly.

To be clear, this isn't meant to be an accusation or recrimination or any other -ation you can think of, I am merely stating matter-of-factly a phenomena I've observed in the last four years.

It is also not a wrong nor bad thing in any way, shape or form. I adore Crowley myself. I love them both so much it's unreal.

But I started with that because I think it is very much a symptom of the fact that a lot of people don't get Aziraphale.

I remember back with S1 there had been plenty of times when I found myself reading discussions and opinion exchanges about Aziraphale and Crowley, their dynamics, all the things that went unsaid behind the things that were said, and found myself genuinely surprised by seeing how some people interpreted certain moments wildly different from how I personally saw them.

I look back at that and I think "Oh, sweet summer child". Nothing could have prepared me from the onslaught of takes about Aziraphale that make me go "Good lord, what???" in the wake of S2, and the infamous Last Fifteen.

Now because I don't want to be pointing fingers at specific things and risk upsetting somebody more than I already am by being open in admitting that, guys, yes, some of the takes y'all have been sharing make me go "Yikes(tm)", I'll move on the interesting part and what I would actually love to discuss, aka cracking Aziraphale's head open and see what that actual fuck is going on in there.

Another preface: Because this duo is intrinsically linked and woven together it is downright impossible to only focus on Aziraphale without also mentioning Crowley, so... Let me circle back to our fav demon bae for a sec, here.

I think the reason why it seems that a larger part of the fandom favors Crowley is because I feel like Crowley is a much easier character to grasp. He is very open in his thoughts and feelings, at any given moment us, the audience, have a much easier time watching a scene and sort of ruminating in the back of our heads about Crowley's motivations for saying the things he says and doing the things he does.

That isn't to say Crowley is a less complex character than Aziraphale. They are very much equally complex and multifaceted individuals with their strengths and weaknesses, their issues and the way they each cope with them, how differently they approach their existence and so on and so forth.

But whereas Crowley as a character presents itself with a certain dynamism and a far more outward openness about his complexity, Aziraphale does the exact opposite; we can say Aziraphale is downright hermetic about it.

For us, the audience, he presents a challenge that requires a good deal of thought being put into him to see over the facade he presents at a more superficial level; he requires time and effort to fully dismantle him in our minds to try and see what makes him thick (other than his thighs), and thus I think it is entirely natural that more people latch on the far easier to identify-with, and relate-to, Crowley.

And that is the inevitable consequence of everything that makes Aziraphale... Well, Aziraphale.

So, where to start? Let's try and jot down what Aziraphale truly is at his core.

He is a contradiction.

This man-shaped being is a walking contradiction, constantly existing in a state of being coated in three thousand layers of misdirection and obfuscation and double thinking.

Why is that? Well. He's an angel.

Aziraphale loves being an angel. It is a tenet of his entire existence and something he cherishes. He wants, so very much, to be his ideal of what a good angel is: An entity who is kind and loving and understanding and forgiving.

Of course us, the audience, know that is utter bullshit, because we know angels can be individuals just as complex as the humans Aziraphale loves so much, with all their inherent flaws and capability for cruelty. And, on a certain level, Aziraphale knows that too.

So there we have it, one element of contradiction: Aziraphale wants to think that angels are always Good and Righteous and Never Wrong; Aziraphale knows that angels aren't, in fact, always Good and Righteous and, by god, can they make plenty of mistakes, too.

What else? How about Aziraphale sitting there, being in love with a demon, fully knowing that at the end of the day demons really ain't that different from angels, and also desperately hanging onto the concept of Good vs Bad.

And he sits there, existing with these two contrasting idea equally taking space in his mind, neither side ever capable of taking over the other.

What else do we have? Aziraphale loves God and wants so hard to believe in Her love for humanity and Her ineffable plan, and Aziraphale also time and again does things that very blatantly go against Her will, lies to Her face, and Doubts. He Doubts, a lot, and that requires the capital letter because those Doubts are what spur him in going against everything he's ever told to believe in order to do the right thing.

Aziraphale's very existence is a constant push-and-pull of things he wants to believe and things he knows are real; things he's told to do and things he wants to do. That's how we get "My side" and "there's a bit of good in you" and "you are the bad guys".

And nothing he's lived through has managed to break him out of this unhealthy way of existing quite yet; that's why he acts the way we see him act in the Edinburgh flashback in S2, or at the start of S1 when Crowley has to ease Aziraphale into the idea of trying to stop Armageddon with the usual song and dance of "temptation" and "plausible deniability" and "you'd be thwarting me", even though from the start we can tell there's a little part of Aziraphale who is clearly not at ease with the idea of the end of the world, and once he's been given 'permission' by Crowley nudging him, he is all the way in with the whole saving the world business, not take-backsies.

Both the moments I mentioned here are very important for different reasons, but of the two is very much the Edinburgh flashback that gets a lot more flack by the fandom and is blatantly misunderstood, which I think is the inevitable consequence of that minisode immediately following the glorious, beautiful, heartbreaking piece of art that is the "A companion to owls" minisode.

I've seen a lot of people lamenting that Aziraphale acts obnoxiously in the Edinburgh flashback and, yeah. He does. But I feel like the fact that we are seeing this after watching Aziraphale struggle his way through saving Job's children, even being willing to go to Hell for it, is a though act to follow and probably soured Edinburgh-Aziraphale for a lot of people, made them think that the character had regressed instead of progressing.

But, see, the way he acts is wholly congruous with who Aziraphale is and has always been and keeps being up to the very end of S2. Yes, even after what he does for Job's children.

If you get down to it, Aziraphale had been ready to give up and let the children die, in episode 2. For a brief moment, after Crowley told him he 'longed to destroy the blameless children', Aziraphale was walking away, having tried all he thought he could try to do to stop this senseless act. That was until Crowley tested him by making the crows bleat, cuing Aziraphale to the fact that his impression of Crowley wasn't wrong, and the he could count on him to do the right thing.

To be clear, I don't want to undermine Aziraphale's action by only giving the credit to Crowley but... It is, also, only thanks to Crowley cajoling him and giving him the right excuses, that Aziraphale feels safe in doing what he's always wanted to do all along.

He'd wanted to save Job's children, and thought he couldn't until Crowley threw him that hell of a lifesaver. He wanted to save the world and thought he couldn't until Crowley nudged him on the path of plausible deniability.

He wanted to save Elspeth's eternal soul, blinding himself to the hardships she'd have to endure in her not-eternal life, and was smacked right in the face by the reality of human suffering multiple times.

The way Aziraphale acts in that flashback can't be a regression, because there never was a progression in the first place: He'd always walked the line between Heaven's and God's will and his own, personal morality and sense of justice.

By all means, if we look at Uz-Aziraphale and modern-day-Aziraphale at the start of S1, his reticence about the whole saving the world business should, by all means, appear as a regression as well. You mean to tell me that he'd been ready to become a demon for the sake of three mortal children, and then suddenly a handful of thousands years later when faced with the prospect of the whole world going up in flames he'd just be all like "Heaven will triumph over Hell and it will be all rather lovely"? Like, fuck off, Aziraphale, you lying double-thinker, you (/pos)

Aziraphale constantly exist while being at war with himself. Circumstances have allowed him to rebel the will of Heaven and God more or less safely time and again, but he never quite managed to break free entirely. He'd always ended up being reeled back in, being fed the party lines, being made to feel shame for his independent thinking, until it all becomes too much and he is forced to step back from that freedom he'd been inches away from grasping.

Back and forth, back and forth, never stopping.

And all of this, all of what he is, makes it so hard for us, the audience, to truly see him. To truly grasp him. To truly watch any given scene with him and figure out what he might be thinking or feeling.

To understand Aziraphale is to understand what he is not saying when he says something, which is a good deal harder to do than it is to understand and relate to a character like Crowley, who very much revel in saying exactly whatever the heck he thinks whenever he damn well pleases.

All those layers of obfuscation and misdirection and double thinking that Aziraphale coats himself in are as much an armor that makes it harder for the audience to understand him as they are his very own downfall because, good lord, if you exist like that, if you exist forced to keep things hidden from yourself, well... It's inevitable that at some point you are going to stumble into pitfalls of your own making.

And I love him for it.

So, there? I hope I managed to explain something with this post, and that it wasn't just the rambling of someone who spends way too much time thinking about her blorbos. To be clear, I don't think people who haven't spent as much time as me trying to dissect and better understand Aziraphale's character are like, dumber than me or anything. It's just that this pair of angelic-demonic blorbos take too much real estate in my mind, lol.

Feel free to let me know your opinion and if you think I am wildly off mark and my Take Is Bad. I might answer, I might not, it all depends on time and my mood ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

Yor's Hometown and Westalis

Yor mentioned that she's from a place in Ostania called Eastern Nielsberg.

Obviously, I thought it was on the Eastern part of Ostania as well. But then we get this statement from her from the recent update, Chapter 92.

She's from the South part of Ostania-A Southern folk.

And how did I dare forgot, the dish that she can make without messing up was even named Southern Stew.

Why is this important? Because Mr. Green said this specific information on Chapter 39 about Southern Folks from Ostania.

Southern Folks have a code for defecting to the West which might indicate that they're the ones who usually do this.

Then I remembered this Twiyor moment from Chapter 35

Yor knows a lullaby from Loid's childhood that was always sung to him by his mother. How could Yor know that same exact lullaby?

I don't think I remember Yor mentioning Westalis neither in speech or thought (correct me if I'm wrong pls). Though that doesn't mean that she wasn't aware of the existence of it. But I don't think she, herself, would try or have tried defecting to Westalis. And she's too young and too focused on taking care of her brother to even consider this.

But how about her family? Her parents? Their relatives? Why did Yuri and her are left alone when their parents died? What happened to their grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles? Where were they and why didn't they took them in? Did they perhaps defect to the West and Yor's family remained on Ostania? We can't be sure since we only know a little about Yor's backstory and her entire family background.

But even in Loid's backstory, when he was talking to the croquette lady, she mentioned that she was part Ostanian herself and she has a family in the East even though she's residing in West. Meaning, there could also be people from Ostania that has Westalian relatives. Yor's family could have Westalian background or someone in their family tree is and who knows, her family may have actually some sort of connection with Loid's family in Luwen.

I actually don't know where I was going with this or if this even make sense or plot relevant but I can't help but be intrigued by this.