#either way i know it would save me some time in having to deal w ppl biting off more than they can chew

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat. 

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically. 

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that. 

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin. 

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear. 

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here. 

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at. 

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before. 

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff. 

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have. 

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists. 

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies. 

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks. 

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets. 

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell. 

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc. 

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life. 

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him. 

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do. 

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show. 

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive. 

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness. 

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement. 

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..' 

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment. 

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile. 

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before. 

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind. 

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up! 

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.." 

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest. 

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do. 

“_____?”

“Yes?..” 

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice.. 

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work. 

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day. 

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too. 

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands. 

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall. 

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

[wtfsteveharrington]

take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.” 

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 

“M’still mad at you.” 

He winces but he knew it was coming. 

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 

And you still won’t look at him. 

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now. 

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we���ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC PROMPT Vlad Hired the Wrong Guy

Vlad decides that perhaps a ghost can't do the job right anymore -though as much as Vlad would have loved that to be the fitting end for Jack- so he hires an assassin instead to finally put the end to this.

He hires the best. Deathstroke.

Slade however decided to take a liking to the little hero. So when Slade succeeds in his mission (or not if you want to pull some plot shenanigans) he ends up taking away something far more valuable to Vlad.

Danny. Now Imma put my thoughts below but y'all can take this anyway you want >w< <3

I can see Vlad giving Deathstroke weapons to fight/capture Danny too- not kill him though he probably can't even imagine that would be possible- with order to strictly kill Jack and maybe make it look like Phantom did it. (For some extra spice ;3) Phantom was able to fool some of Slade's attempts- but in an all out brawl- Slade wipes the floor with Danny. Danny being slung around like a rag doll, taunted, and mocked. He doesn't stop fighting which just amuses Slade more. Eventually there first fight gets interrupted (cause I imagine it was in the lab) probably be Jack and Maddie coming into the basement- but Deathstroke was able to hit Danny with the belt- forcing him to change before vanishing himself. So Danny gets "grounded" from the lab- even though he tried to play it off as a ghost attack- which made it either worse or better for him. His parents going protective mode- when he's trying to figure out how to save them. Only for Deathstroke to be in his room one day, looking for a "chat". Danny's not having it and tries to fight him only to be captured by one of Vlad's devices. Danny recognizing it. "You-You're working for Vlad!" "Oh ho ho, So you do have some brain cells that isn't used just for puns?" "Why!?" "Money. And a few unique toys." Slade tossing an ecto-ray in his hands. "I'm an assassin. I had assume you didn't need to be detective to figure that one out." Danny struggling against his bindings. Panicking. "You can't- Vlad-..." "Oh I definitely can. He is not the hardest target I had to hit- though I must admit you're an annoying obstacle." "I won't let you!" "I don't think you're in a position to stop me." Slade pressing a button to shock Danny before he a new power to escape. The shock forcing him to revert to his Human form. Imagine Deathstroke taunts Danny more. About what he is- about his parents hatred of ghosts. "Even if you save them- they would hate you. Shame." "You're not the first fruitloop to tell me that." Can see after Danny impresses him one more time- and Slade finds out Vlad is also a half ghost. I can imagine Slade finds a way to force Danny to join him. Whether its by succeeding in killing his dad and manipulating Danny into learning out to take revenge- Or by blackmailing/threatening to follow through but not just kill Jack/ but both his parents- saying he'll teach him how to REALLY fight. Even saying that with his help, he'll make sure Masters won't bother him again. Just all the manipulating. Danny at wits end might take it. Can see Vlad being FURIOUS- but now Deathstroke has weapons to not only HARM/KILL him-he ALSO becomes Danny's mentor. Vlad being the one to contact heroes he knows have history with Deathstroke... framing it as him taking away his godson. Maybe purposely sought out Nightwing. Unknowingly damning himself more as Nightwing will find out Vlad was the cause to all this- AND if Danny gets rescued/gets out of his deal- he'll have hero friends to rely on.

I just love the idea of Slade and Danny dynamic. Especially since Danny not only similar to Dick, his phantom form also looks similar to Respawn. I just think its neat XD And be a damn terrifying threat to Danny.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i am so obsessed with how you write the poly relationship w wolverine and deadpool, i would love to see more!!!

"Come on Peanut, we're going out!" Wade declared, throwing him his jacket.

Logan groaned and took a drag off his cigar, exhaling slowly. He'd been looking forward to a night in. To some quiet. Wade had been going out with friends tonight, going to carouse and be obnoxious. Laura was busy. Altha was out... It was going to be bliss.

Absolute bliss.

And now that was shot to hell.

"Where are we going?"

"Karaoke," Wade said, "The sweet little angel baby who lives upstairs is going. And so are all her super hot friends."

"Christ," Logan groaned. Wade's sex drive made his look low. But. If you were going at least he'd have someone to talk to. You could talk intelligently about... a lot of shit. And your sense of humor was good.

"Just remember," Wade called over his shoulder, "No stabbing in front of the normies."

________________

"Su-i-cide. Su-i-cide. Su-i-cide."

The crowd took up Wade's chant and you rolled your eyes.

"Good fucking luck, My brain is like 90% song lyrics," you caution, sipping from the pint you'd been nursing.

"That's the price you gotta pay, Angel," Wade teased, fluttering non existant lashes, "if you wanna save Logi-bear from having to sing you gotta take all the songs I want."

"You get 3-"

"7" he countered.

"5, asshole"

"Done!" he said, jumping off the stool and going to put your songs in.

Logan looked at you and shook his head. Your friends had left to go dancing and you bowed out. And for the last two hours you'd been... theirs. "You don't have to do that," he said.

"The mob has spoken. Also, even if I sound like shit they're all drunk so. It's fine. Pretty sure Wade doesn't want to humiliate me. He just wants me to sing something."

He nodded, "Probably." Wade definitely didn't want you humiliated. He wanted you in their bed- Logan was on the fence about it. Something was... wrong with you. Fragile. And he didn't know if you could handle it, honestly. Or if they could handle you.

Your name is announced along with the song and you roll your eyes. "He would. He fucking would. I mentioned this ONE TIME." But you go, Taking the mic and casually giving Wade the finger as you step up and take your first breath. Only to start 'Holding out for a Hero'.

The line up gave you a headache.

'Holding out for a Hero' 'Baby Got Back' 'I'm the Only One' 'Work it' And then to cap the whole thing off 'Lucky' Honestly, either Wade didn't know how old you were or forgot that music tended to stick around for a good long while. But You did all 5, Blind with no time to prep and did your best to kill it. And hell if you didn't need water when you were done.

"Dick," you tell him, without any actual heat, "I told you-"

"And I bow to the queen," he said. "Logan, I'm in love!"

Logan snorted. "She can do better."

"See," you tell Wade, taking the water he offered and a chair gratefully, "someone knows how to charm a girl."

Wade clutched his chest and took own seat, "Angel baby, I'm hurt. We're a package deal. And I'll have you know I can be VERY charming."

"Mhmm."

"Help me out here, Peanut-"

"Oh no, this is all you. You wanna fuck the girl, you gotta do the work."

You pause, drink half way to your mouth and clear your throat, setting it down, "Pardon me?" You'd been operating under the assumption that this was all just banter. Harmless fun. Wade and Logan were together. Wade flirted with EVERYONE. Logan was a grumbly old man but he was a softy when he wanted to be. You liked them. You knew they liked you. But you didn't know it was LIKE that. At least for Wade.

"Look at her," Wade said "She's precious-"

Logan cleared his throat. You didn't smell aroused. And he could hear your heart racing. "Sorry, kid," he said. "I thought-"

"I-uh... Excuse me for a second?" You hop off your stool and grab your bag, weaving your way through the room to the ladies room. Taking a second to take a breath. To think. You lean on the sink and wonder if you've had too much to drink. But you know you haven't. And you know no one's drugged you. Wade's beat the shit out of people for doing that- and Logan would never. They're good guys. Not creeps. Certified good guys, really. So why- this is wild.

And it doesn't happen to girls like you.

People don't want you like that. Unless it's a weird fetish thing. Or they're hobosexual. Or some other reason. But they don't want you for you. No one ever does, at least not for long. But you like them. They're friends. Will they stay friends if you say no? If you say yes what happens? Do you even want to say yes? What the fuck is happening? There are a lot of thoughts in your head. Too many.

And when you make your way out of the Bathroom, going to duck outside to get a breath of fresh air, an unfamiliar chest stops you. "You did Pretty good tonight," the oily voice said.

"Thanks, Randy," you tell him, stepping back. The Karaoke creep. You all laugh at him. He uses cash advances at strip clubs and tucks in his polos. The most divorced man to have ever lived.

"Suicides are hard. They're not for everyone," he said, picking his teeth with a coke nail. "But for a retar-"

"Hey fuckface," Wade said, "that's not a nice word." He inserted himself deftly between you and the other man and leaned on the bar, "Didn't you ever learn not to say fucking slurs?"

"Wade," you tell him, "It's just Randy it's not that-"

"She's retarded and you're fuck ug-" A crack and a clang made you help and this time it was Logan standing there as Randy crumbled to the floor.

"And he has bad hair plugs," Wade said. "Only one of us has a problem. And he paid for his."

[manwiththemagic]

The writers of s11 were cowards. If IIIIIIIIIII was in charge I'd made Lucifer's weird obsession with Sam show up more. Like the writers have very obviously included it and yet when Lucifer is processing the same vessel as cas, and therefore pretending to be cas, he just fucks off and tortures Crowley with fucked up bdsm pet play.

Like the few times casifer and Sam interacted were GOLD. because Sam sees it as his best friend cas, and Lucifer (who keeps talking about Sam like they're toxic ex's) is pretending to be him!! Although not to well. Like his freaky smirk when sending Dean into the past and coming back to harass Sam? Dude lives off of sadistic pleasure.

The way he full on LAUGHS when Sam says he trusts him bc Sam thinks it's cas?? Like gold!?!? Don't know why the writers didn't do more with that.

Also why not do more with the 'lucifer sent Sam visions to get him down to hell'. Like Lucifer is Obsessed w/ sam because that body/vessel is "supposed to be" his. And yet after revealing himself he doesn't try and convince Sam anymore?

He's just given up? Like nah man I don't believe that. I feel like he woulda fucked with Sam more in cas' body. And like it woulda been a way better not-romance-romance plot then whatever the fuck Dean and Amara were..

Like that came outta no where... I mean I get it.. but ew?? We saw her grow up, and maybe id argue "well there were two versions of her!! One physical on earth, the other her actual form and memories as a celestial being!!" BUT NO. SHE CALLS CROWLEY UNCLE CROWLEY.

cause he like raised her for a day or wtv..

Idk s11 is better than s10. Like the episode from baby's prospective?? PEAK CINEMAAAA!! also not that I dislike s11, no I quite love it, I just wish the dean plots were more fleshed out, and that it was more "Dean and Sam vs the world!!" Then Dean vs Sam yk??

Like where's my dynamic duo??

That's part of why I didn't like s10. Like no I loved the IDEA of Mark of Cain dean, and demon dean was hilarious (although I HATE him) but it was just Dean vs Sam, Dean vs cas, Dean vs the world. And idk I liked the idea, cause this time it was sam doing everything to save Dean, but man I just didn't like the fighting..

Also s11 had a mention of TMNT, S10 did not so... points!!

S1 and 2 of spn were peak ofc, and s3 was good but not really memorable for me?? Idk I'll go back and rewatch once I finish the series (just finished s11)

S4 and 5 were also really good, we got Castiel who is peak, blood junkie Sam, which was one of my favorite plots!! And of course a lot more bobby. Rest in peace king!

And unlike some I loveeeed s6-7 like.. the soulless plot, and death? Dean dealing with soulless sam?? Chefs kiss I mean mwah. Then Sam tweaking because of hallucinations. NOT TO MENTION GODSTIEL?? loved him sm stg.

8-9-10 is where it kinda fell off. I mean idk the leviathans?? Weak. Hated them ngl. Idk if they were s7 but either way.. mid. I didn't like purgatory bc no way Sam would do that?? But I did like how it developed deans character..

I don't remember what happened in what season but I lovedddd kevin, hated metatron (but in the "it's because he's well done" kinda way), the tablets were aight, Mark of Cain was uh... something.. (I hate demon dean but he was peak..)

So like idk.. show is peak though, I'm just at that point in the hyperfixtion where it's like "BUT I COULD DO IT BETTER!!" ykwim?? NVM I'm sick with a fever, supernatural is all I have going for me man.

[freedomfireflies]

Destiny

Summary: You’ll lose Harry on August 17th, 2029.

They’ll say it was a freak accident. That nobody could have seen it coming. Nobody could have stopped it.

But you can.

And you will.

Word Count: 1.6k

“I’m not sure. I swear, it was right here on the dresser.”

“I’ll have Anthony check again. We might be able to find a copy somewhere in the office. Or maybe we can find the file through email.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let me know. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Will do. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Harry nods to his manager, who disappears down the corridor of the arena, before he leans against the wall and hangs his head.

Your heart hammers inside your chest as that familiar ringing returns to your ears. 

There he is.

He’s so close. So fucking close, you can almost smell his vanilla cologne. Can almost feel his soft curls run through your fingers or feel his lips on your neck.

Hear his voice in your ear.

Your body aches to be near him. Every muscle, every nerve-ending, every joint vibrates with the need to be close. To walk over to him, throw your arms around his neck, and bury your face in his chest.

To hold onto him one last time.

But you can’t. You made a deal.

You do this…and you move on.

Harry sighs to himself and looks back up at the ceiling, hands digging into his pockets.

You know what this means. He’s stressed. Aggravated over something he can’t control, and annoyed with himself for being unable to fix it.

In the future, when he'll get frustrated, you’ll press a kiss to his palm, whisper three, “I love you’s,” and count with him to ten.

He’ll remember to breathe, to relax, and to handle the problem one step at a time.

You wish you could do that now.

But this Harry doesn’t know you. He hasn’t met you yet.

He doesn’t love you yet.

And he never will.

You take a deep breath and glance down at the envelope in your pocket that you’d snuck from his dressing room. The same envelope Jeff is currently on a mission to find.

But he won’t find it. There’s no other copy in existence and there won’t be again.

You promised.

If he never goes on that trip to Italy, then he never meets Alexander. And if he never meets Alexander, then he never agrees to the tour around Europe. And if he never agrees to the tour around Europe, then he’ll never be in that car on August 17th at 5:03 P.M. 

He’ll never be flipped over seven times before the vehicle crashes into the wall.

He’ll never attempt to crawl to you and drag you to safety.

He’ll never realize he’s bleeding out faster than either of you can stop it, and he’ll never collapse onto the streets of Barcelona.

You’ll never lose him.

You made a deal that day. Some deity in the universe found you begging anyone that would listen to give you one more chance.

And they decided to give it to you.

They’d let you come back and keep him from finding that envelope. The very envelope that would set everything in motion.

They’d allow you to stop him.

They’d allow you to save his life.

Even if it means he'll never meet you.

Because you and he will bump into each other at a cafe in Paris on March 5th, 2025. He’ll already be waiting there to conduct a meeting with Alexander. The same meeting where they’ll choose the dates for the tour. 

The day they’ll choose to send him to Barcelona.

He’ll notice your dress first and he’ll stop you to tell you that it’s his favorite color. And you’ll blush wildly once you realize who he is and thank him profusely for taking the time to speak with you.

He’ll offer to buy you a croissant and you’ll laugh at his attempt at a French accent. Then you’ll part ways for about half an hour as he and Alexander talk while you return to your chai in the corner of the restaurant.

But he’ll stop by your small table before he leaves. He’ll tell you his name and ask for yours.

You’ll give it to him.

And from that moment on, neither of your lives will ever be the same.

You’d thought long and hard about the decision before agreeing to this second chance. Wondering if there was any other way you could warn him and keep him out of that car without having to lose him completely.

Destiny said no.

As long as your soul is intertwined with his, he will always meet the same fate. 

The only way to save him…is to let him go.

You hear Harry curse to himself as he runs a hand through his hair, tugging on it until he winces. 

The last fragile shard of your heart shatters when you see him drop into a crouch, head cradled in his palms.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” you hear him mumble, the hauntingly familiar question echoing between the empty arena walls until it finds you.

He’s asked himself that at least a hundred times throughout your relationship.

Your answer is always the same:

“Nothing,” you’ll whisper before taking him into your arms. “Nothing, H. You’re perfectly imperfect and I love you.”

He’ll melt in your embrace before allowing himself to sink into your body. “I love you.”

You’d give anything to offer him that comfort now.

Not that he’d know what to do with it.

Suddenly, his head lifts, eyes drifting around the white corridors in thought before they find you.

Your breath catches as you scramble to hide around the corner, pulse racing as you hear him stand, his shoes squeaking along the linoleum floors.

“Hello?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, back pressing into the wall. “Sorry,” you call, silently commanding him not to come over. “Just…looking for the bathroom. My bad.”

But you hear him approach. Hear his feet lead him to you in a way that almost feels…destined.

You’re frozen to your spot, acutely aware of the way you should be heading for the exit. You did what you came to do. He’s safe…and you need him to stay that way.

But you couldn’t resist one final look. One final glimpse of the man that had asked you to marry him only moments before getting into that damned car.

His head peeks out from behind the wall to look for you, brows raising when he sees the way you’re cowering away from him. 

“Are you all right?” he asks, and his voice holds the same compassion he’s demonstrated with you a hundred times before. Despite the fact that he doesn’t know you now…he still cares.

One of the many reasons you fell in love with him. His kindness for everybody.

“Yes, sorry,” you repeat, eyes falling to his shoes. You can’t look at him. “I just…couldn’t find the bathroom.”

“I get it.” He laughs. And the sound makes your stomach rip down the middle. “S’place is huge. You wanna go down this hallway, make a right, follow that hallway…and then it should be on your left.”

You nod without lifting your head. “Thanks. Sorry again for bothering you.”

“No, don’t be,” he insists. “I was just…taking a minute.”

“Yeah,” you reply, and your voice is small. Weighed down by the burden of your grief. “Sometimes we need a minute. Or two.”

“Or twenty,” he adds, chuckling again. “I swear, sometimes I think I have a handle on this shit, and sometimes…it feels like it's completely out of my hands. Like somebody else is pulling the strings and I’m just…along for the ride.”

Your throat constricts as the imminent tears rush to your eyes. “Yeah.”

He pauses and you can feel his eyes on the top of your head. He’s studying you. Your body language, your demeanor, your voice. Looking for something. Looking for what’s wrong.

He did this all the time when you were first dating.

Eventually, he learned to read you like a book.

“Seriously, are you all right?” he asks again, softer this time. Hoping to coax a real answer out of you.

No. No, you’re not all right. How are you supposed to tell him goodbye? How are you supposed to look at the man that asked you to marry him and see that he has no idea who you are?

And that he never will?

How are you supposed to walk through those double doors when you know that the moment you do…you’ll forget. You’ll forget him, you’ll forget your relationship, and you’ll forget the fact that you lost him.

And maybe that’s okay because at least then, you’ll forget that you watched him die. Forget that you watched the life leave his eyes as his hand went limp in yours.

He’d made you promise you’d be okay.

And it was the last thing he ever did.

You don’t know if he’d approve of this. You don’t think he would.

But you’d rather have his life than his love.

You take a deep breath and force your shoulders back. “Yes, sorry. Just taking a minute myself.”

He hums. “Yeah. I get that. Life is…hard.”

“Very,” you whisper before you trail your eyes to his.

He smiles.

And it almost guts you.

“Try…counting to ten,” you say as you take a step back, putting a lifetime of distance between you. “Whenever I’m upset, I just take a deep breath, hold it, and count to ten. And when I’m done…everything doesn’t feel so…loud.”

He seems intrigued by this premise, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk as he nods once. “Yeah. I’ll try that.”

You nod yourself and turn on your heel. You don’t want to leave him but you can’t stay.

Destiny is calling you back.

You make it about three steps before a hand snatches onto your wrist and spins you around.

You know this touch. Know what it means, and you can’t force yourself to see him as he steps closer.

“Wait,” he murmurs, and there’s an urgency woven between each syllable that springs the tears to your waterline.

You go still.

"I know you..." he whispers, eyes trailing over the side of your face, "...don't I?"

Even now, the echo of his love calls out for you.

You swallow every truth you wish you could tell him, and slip yourself from his touch for the last time.

“You used to.”

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

How would the male companions go about helping/comforting a tav who’s “monthly visitor” came to town during their journey??

A/N: The timing of this ask is impeccable because guess what I just got? Lol. But seriously I would be mad as hell in the 5 or 6 days I’m supposed to stop my mind flayer parasite AND save the universe I ALSO had to deal with cramping and bleeding. Nu-uh. Nope. Sign me the fuck out. Goodbye cruel world, I would be DONE. 

TW: Mentions of Menstruation; Blood 

Tried to keep this Tav as Gender Neutral as possible so that it could apply to anyone who menstruates.  <3 

Please Like & Reblog! 

Male BG3 Companions Helping Tav w/ Their Period

⭐ Astarion: 

He probably notices it before Tav does

Of course, he offers to help “clean up” ;) (this may or may not get him a kick in the balls)

No, but seriously, if he and Tav are in a relationship, he’d have no qualms going down there himself every so often to “alleviate” some symptoms. That is, of course, if Tav would go for that kind of thing. Astarion won’t keep pushing it if Tav says “no”. He respects the hard boundaries Tav gives him. 

Of course, he teases Tav a bit. Not horribly, and it’s all in good fun. But enough to let Tav know that this matter doesn’t disgust or upset him in the slightest. It’s blood for devil's sake! What creature would be better prepared to handle it than him?

If any of Tav’s clothes end up stained or they end up bleeding through them, Astarion has just the thing to take the stains out. Turns out, knowing how to get blood out of most fabrics is quite beneficial knowledge in the vampire community. Plus he has an instinct for knowing where the best tailors and seamstresses in Baldur’s Gate are. Should Tav need an emergency change of clothes, he knows just the place! 

Then again, Astarion himself has no problem with the blood stains. After all, they’re traveling around killing monsters for gods sake! If anyone has a nasty comment about how much blood either he or Tav is drenched in, they better be damn quick on their feet. His arrows can shoot pretty far. ;P

As far as cramps or pain goes, if his previous, ahem, suggestion was shot down, he’ll make sure Tav takes a moment here and there to rest. He might even bother Gale, demanding some sort of heat pack. Scratch that. He’s most definitely harassing Gale for some sort of heating pack spell. 

If Gale refuses, he might even try and figure out how to fix one himself. Granted fire and vampires aren't the best of friends, but Tav is the only one in the last two-hundred-plus years to see him as a person. A little scorching here and there means nothing if Astarion can let Tav know how much he values them. 

🔮 Gale: 

He’s clueless, okay? Tav would have to outright tell him. I mean yes, he was raised by a single mom, but she didn’t exactly share the details of this stuff with him. And it never came up all the years he was with Mystra because goddesses don’t exactly reproduce the way other Faerun humanoids do! Please forgive him, he really does want to learn.

He immediately offers to find a spell or potion to either pause or skip this one altogether. He gets that Tav may want to opt out of dealing with it for the time being, seeing as the two of them have much more pressing matters to attend to. 

He’ll cast it himself if Tav wishes. Or he’ll find another trustworthy wizard to recommend. Although he does prefer to do it himself, he understands Tav might be uncomfortable with the thought of their new partner doing such a thing for them. His entire life has been spent studying magic, so of course he immediately thinks to use that to remedy any problem Tav has. 

Nevertheless, should Tav choose to deal with it in the old-fashioned non-magical way, he’s perfectly accepting of that as well. He’ll enquire about which local herbs are suitable for such applications, possibly even soliciting the help of an herbalist or surgeon. 

Gale wants to give Tav as many options for comfort as possible. If Tav’s concern is about heavy bleeding, he looks for answers on natural remedies to lighten the flow. Or he may even speak with a midwife about the best clothes and absorbent materials to use in the coming days.  

As awkward as he can be in social situations, he’s oddly great in this endeavor. He treats it the way he would a Weave experiment- with an open mind and curiosity. At the end of the day what matters is Tav knows how much Gale admires and respects them. And that he doesn’t think of them any less for having this bodily function. If anything, he admires Tav more for being so forthcoming. It’s an ask that actually strengthens his and Tav’s relationship. 

🗡 Wyll: 

Wyll probably shies away from it the most. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help Tav in any way he can, it’s just that he’s a gentleman, and to his knowledge, speaking of certain subjects with the one you like, isn’t something a well-behaved gentleman would do. That being said, a true gentleman is always prepared to put away their discomfort in order to aid their friends, so that’s exactly what he does. 

He enlists the help of Shadowheart almost immediately. He knows realistically, there are others he could ask (midwives, doctors, healers), but Shadowheart is an ally and a Cleric to boot. So her skills as well as her knowledge may very well come in handy. 

He’ll go along with whatever Tav decides, but he, like Gale, recommends Tav either suspend or skip this round. He thinks it wise to have all their wits about them for the battles ahead. With demons like Mizora and Raphael running about, none of them can afford to get distracted. Again, if Tav chooses to push through it, he’ll be kind and supportive, and request Shadowheart’s healing in subduing some of the more troublesome symptoms. But deep down, he’s happier should Tav decide to use magic or spells to resolve the issue for the time being. 

And then, Wyll goes all out in preparation for the next one. Once their fight is won, he can turn his attention back to his family- his Father, and of course, Tav. He makes sure his family home has a room for them, customized in many ways to Tav’s liking. Wyll has their favorite color blanket, a soft pillow, their favorite flavor tea in an enchanted flask to keep it just the perfect temperature… the list goes on and on. 

He loves Tav so much. He just wants them to be comfortable, and to feel safe to express whatever feelings they have. After all, Tav is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

🌱 Halsin: 

The nice thing about him being ‘one with nature’ is that he has no unease regarding the subject. He is an archdruid, and some three-hundred years old at that- believe me, there’s very little Tav’s body could throw at him that he’s not ready to receive. 

Out of all the companions, Halsin is the one most likely to not immediately suggest using magical means to pause or skip it. Instead, he has more natural aids at the ready- herbs, teas, heat packs, massages, and well, yes, even that. ;)

The difference between Halsin suggesting it and Astarion suggesting it, however, is that Halsin’s motivations are more focused on what he can do for Tav and their body; they’re not based on the idea of mutual satisfaction. Halsin has had countless lovers and years to understand pleasure. He knows you take turns giving, and he’s well very versed in that. 

Or if Tav isn't up for that, he'll offer to shift into a cat and rest on their abdomen, using his body heat to lessen Tav’s cramps. 

He’s also the most ‘normal’ when it comes to continuing their journey. He won’t make a habit of fussing over Tav unless they specifically request him to do so. Periods, however annoying and painful, are a part of life, of nature. Halsin believes it best to learn how to accept nature, and live in harmony with it, rather than try and prevent it. 

If Tav does want to explore other means of stopping this particular cycle, however, Halsin will help them any way he can, even if he doesn’t think it very wise to mess with the flow of nature like that. As a druid healer himself, he knows a few things or too about reproductive spells. He can make it so the symptoms lessen, or temporarily subside until their perilous journey has come to a close. 

Halsin may not want to settle for a single lover, but out of all of them, Tav seems to shine the brightest. He would do anything within his power to aid them. 

Bonus! 💪 Minsc (and 🐹 Boo!): 

He offers to fight it lol. Just straight up. 

“What is this thing causing you stress? Tell Minsc where it is so he can destroy it for you!” 

Boo basically has to be the one in charge of the situation, but then again, what’s new? 

Boo finds the supplies Tav might need, and directs Minsc to them. Boo also directs Minsc towards either Shadowheart or Halsin, because they’re better suited for dealing with these sorts of things. 

Once Minsc understands what Tav meant, he apologizes with a bouquet of wildflowers he picked. 

And by ‘picked’ I mean mostly smooshed before ripping their roots out of the ground.  

He's really trying okay, give the man some credit.

And give Boo treats to thank him for his service.

[haveihitanerve]

Heyyy, me again!

I got homework due so this'll not be as long as some other asks-

Damian (or Tim), post some pictures/drawings of Batman on their socials, then have to deal w/ people in their dms being weird about it (aka thirsting over the drawing).

If you go w/ Damian, I think he'd take it as an insult to his father's dignity lmao.

Tim had taken hundreds of pictures of Bruce. Thousands, quite honestly. Both in and out of the suit. He couldn't help it, even though now he no longer needed it for evidence. Bruce was just... he was just so photogenic. In possibly the worst way ever. Tim just couldn't help himself. He needed to take pictures. And Bruce was.. well he was just always there. And Tim... he wanted to capture their moments, wanted to be able to look back on their time together.

He snapped pictures on patrol, when Bruce laughed at one of his jokes, head tilted back, eyes closed, fully relaxed and trusting Tim to have his back, almost like he was savoring the laugh.

He snapped pictures at home, when Bruce was collapsed on the couch, when he was hunched over a case, when he was hugging Dick, or Jason, or fixing Damian's tie, or helping him with homework, or twirling Steph and Cass in a circle, or slow dancing with Selina, or dancing with Babs, holding her up so she could feel like she was standing again.

He snapped pictures during meetings and during calls, during fights and during calm, from close and from afar, with other people or alone... and he never shared them with anyone. Not really. Sometimes, he would pull out one or two pictures as blackmail, show them off. Other times he would use them as proof against Jason, or Dick.

But this one... this picture Tim felt the need to share. It wasn't... anything extraordinary. Not really. It was just Bruce. A side profile. Leaning over the edge of a roof, one leg propped up, his arm resting on it, staring off across Gotham. The gargoyles that framed him on either side were like guards, and the sunlight just peeking over the horizon offered a calm, peaceful look. A protective look.

The Guardian and his People Tim titled the photo, and before he could stop himself, posted it. The replies... exploded. Sweet messages, suspicious messages, loving, hating.... but mostly... horny. Tim was disgusted. It was... revolting the things people said.

Dick found the picture and framed it in his room in Bludhaven, though Tim knew he didn't tell Bruce. Jason liked it. Steph, surprisingly, didn't insult it, and saved it. Cass obviously liked it. Damian started drawing it. It was... nice. Sure, people wanted to fuck his father in ways that were... not ethical. But to those others... to him, to his family. It was Bruce that mattered. Tim closed the comments but left the picture. um idk what that was lemme try again

Damian didn't know what he expected, quite honestly. Screams were not uncommon in Wayne Manor. Everyone had their demons. Everyone had their issues.

But these screams... these were dark, guttural. Tortured. A horror Damian had never heard before. It chilled him to his very bones and against his better judgement... he crept out the door, heading for the room responsible. He was shocked when he realized it was coming from his fathers room.

He pushed the door open slowly, just seconds after the screams cut off. Father was awake. Damian stilled, quiet in the doorway, curious despite his survival instincts screaming for him to run. Bruce was kneeling on his bed, his black sheets pooled around his legs, naked from the waist up. His arms were flexed, laying on top of his thighs, and darkness poured from behind him, shadows curling around his body, paler than the moonlight. His eyes were closed, head drooped. Dark, black hair falling across his face. The words jumped to his mind, the painting already forming.

The Fallen Prince. Damian bowed his head, backing up slowly, but the words would not leave his mind. The Fallen Prince. Beautiful. Alone. Deadly.

He finished the painting the same day and couldn't just handle seeing it alone. Frantic, he grabbed his phone, logging onto his secret account that no one in the family followed, and snapped a picture, posting it.

The replies were instantaneous. "he can fall on me." "We can be alone together" "that dark spot underneath him..." "he can kneel on me." Damian deleted the post the next day, and never spoke of it again. But the painting still remained, buried in the back of his closet, illuminated faintly every time he moved his clothes aside. The Fallen Prince.

ugh okay idk what it is about this prompt but idk i cannot get it right! sry this one just aint working for me, hope you still enjoyed the stories tho, tho they aint correct... idk what it is but my fingers just cant write it properly 🤷‍♀️sry

[zephyrstargame]

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

[obese4haechan]

The After Party.

pairings: fratboy!haechan x shy!reader

genre: smut a bit of fluff <3

warnings: reader smokes weed and drinks alcohol with haechan, protected sex! haechan and the reader are basically both switches.

wc: 2800-2700 ish

note: THE NEW AYO TEASER PHOTOS literally sparked an idea in my brain. FRAT LMFAO. some songs i'd recommend while reading are Her way by PartyNextDoor, Wine Pon You Doja Cat, and Slow Down Bobby V. i hope u enjoy it! 🫶🏽

~

You were so damn sick of studying, college genuinely was not what you were expecting growing up but you learned to adjust to the environment. Constant all nighters, having no money, horrible teachers, and the drug deals around campus. Not to mention the cliques, you thought cliques would be left alone in high school but god it's almost as if it had gotten worse. One of the worst being the frats, you couldn't put into words how much you hated all 9 of those boys. They were just so icky and annoying though you've never gotten to know them, you figured distance was best. Half of the girls around campus had already been knocked up or at least in some sort of relationship with one of them, you'd often hear gossip about the boys in the bathroom from girls who couldn't notice your presence. And of course even your roommate's (which were your best friends) were so damn obsessed with them, "Cmon y/n, you gotta find at least one of em cute?" your best friend Imani groaned. Imani was on the cheer team not necessarily apart of any clique's just very known, so obviously she'd spoken to the boys before. "Shit if she doesn't I do." the other girl laughed, "Well I mean.. HOW I COULD I NOT.. it's just they're so corny.." you stuttered as the girls smirked at you. "What?" you said confused. "You definitely are feeling one of them." Imani snickered, "So who?" You couldn't think of his name off the top of your head, "You know... the one with the moles and babyface." you asked. "OH MY GOD Y/N." Imani snorted, "What?" you yelled smiling. both girls fell over on the loveseat stomachs hurting from laughter, Imani gained her strength and sat up "You like Donghyuck."

Donghyuck. his name was Donghyuck, during class you honestly couldn't get your mind off of him. "I mean i've never heard any girls talking about how good his sex was" you thought to yourself. He really was cute, every time you saw him he was either smiling, cracking jokes, or keeping to himself. "Y/n? answer for number seven?" you had snapped out of your daydream, "W-w Huh?" your professor glared at you, you could've sworn this man hated you or could just tell when you were most vulnerable. You had a high C in his class but he honestly sucked at teaching and you'd never blame yourself over a shitty teacher. "I said could you give me the answer to number seven." you immediately sat up staring at the projector screen "Uhm.." you knitted your eyebrows and squinted your eyes "x/4 sir." you heard a voice behind you speak "Thank you young man looks like y/n's mind is a bit scrambled." your professor joked, you didn't laugh at all in fact it was humiliating.

The bell rung and you nearly sprinted out of class "Hey!" someone screamed, the school was so damn loud you didn't even think about anyone calling for you. There were definitely FAST footsteps behind you so you instinctively turned around and you were met with the Donghyuck that was in your head all period. "How didn't I know he was in my class? I mean there are at least over one hundred students but." you thought, "Oh uhm.. I just wanna say thank you for that back there." He was thanking you? "Why?" you asked. "I mean number seven was the only one I had even tried to do and he's been on my case this entire unit, you saved my ass more than you know to be honest." he smiled keeping the strongest eye contact, you were trying so hard to keep calm, not get flustered, don't smile. "Oh it's okay really thank yo-" a group of eight boys came marching up behind the boy, he turned around was and then back to you "You can call me Hyuck." he smiled. "Haechan's finally getting game it looks like?" one of the tall boys said, "Haechan? who's Haechan?" you asked. "Well Haechan is the one you were just talking to pretty, and i'm Yuta." you flinched at the nickname, "Well yeah that's so awesome i'll get going!" you said ironically, trying to get away any moment you could before Imani caught you talking to the men you despised. "W-wait." Haechan stuttered following you, you turned around "Do you think you could come to our house party tonight?" he asked. You honestly thought about it, drinks, fun music and maybe weed. You honestly needed a distraction and a house party sounded good. "Before you give me an excuse there's no homework until next week even if there is lemme do it for you, cmon love." Haechan stuck his hands into his pockets tilting his head to the side. God he was doing things to you, "Well I guess so i'd have to ask my friend.. if you don't mind her coming." you held eye contact with him as long as you could, "Deal." he smirked, "Don't worry about the address I promise you'll know where it is." Haechan said walking backwards with his hands still in those stupid pockets, he still was just so corny.

"So you're telling me he invited you to a party?" Imani shouted outside of the dorm, "God yes shout a little louder.." you groaned "Sorry... but ARE YOU GOING?" she screamed once inside the dorm. "Yes... I am, I asked if i could bring you as well and he said yeah." you said slipping out of your Ugg boots "Girl we literally have to get ready right now." Imani ran to her side of the room, "Whyyyyy.. I'm so tired." you said as you jumped onto the bed. "Get your tired ass up y/n I literally need to be intoxicated." Imani grabbed something skimpy out of her closet. "So you're gonna go looking like that and all you wanna do is drink or smoke?" you laughed as you got up. Imani always knew how to dress and do her makeup well for the occasion, she was kinda god sent. "I meannnnn that one named Johnny really is cute, i've spoken to him a couple times i'd say we're associates he's a sweetheart." Imani blushed, "Oh please don't break a sweat we have to get dressed." you rolled your eyes. "Y/n bitch DONT."

You and imani had took an Uber to the house it wasn't very packed just yet, a few cars and music already jumping. You two walked inside arm to arm, there they were. All of the boys were on the couch "Imaniii!" Johny yelled at as he got up to hug her. "Associates my ass." you thought, and then you saw him sat on the couch legs spread hand placed on his thigh which was covered by his white jeans he was deep into his phone until more guests came and he looked up to catch you staring at him. "Heyyy!! it's the pretty girl from my chem class, c'mere." Haechan said patting against the spot beside him, you walked over and sat down you were both so close as you sat next to the arm of the couch. "Hi." you spoke a bit quietly intimidated with how close you two were, "You comfortable?" Haechan asked putting his phone down and giving you undivided attention. "Mhm.. my name's Y/n by the way." you smiled to him, "Oh I know." Haechan smirked. "How? I never even told you." you questioned, "I have my ways." he cockily said. "Mhm sure." you laughed, "Do you want something to drink?" Haechan asked as he sat up "Yeah yeah anything with alcohol please." you smiled looking up into his eyes "You're so cute." he said before walking away. You will admit that you had butterflies definitely he looked so damn good nevertheless he smells amazing as well. You looked around for Imani when you saw she was already touching all over Johnny, "Shes about to have sex within the first hour.. shes not even drunk yet." you thought to yourself giggling out loud. Haechan came back with your drinks before he sipped his you asked to take his instead, naturally he didn't hesitate. "Already wanting to drink my things we aren't even together yet." he teased "Yours just looks better." you teased back. Maybe this was flirting I mean anything he did had an effect on you, when he looked deep into your eyes it made you feel so good you wanted to always feel like that.

The alcohol had begun to kick in you asked Haechan if any of the boys had weed and if he smoked, he answered yes to both. Imani had completely disappeared with Johnny you assumed she was probably fucking him by now or took off somewhere, but you knew to text her. After Haechan got some you asked if you two could smoke upstairs away from the noise, he agreed. You both walked into a bedroom as Haechan closed the door behind you two, He began to roll up. "You ready y/n?" he sat beside you taking out a lighter, you nodded your head as Haechan took the first drag. He coughed and cursed after inhaling the drug he was so adorable, he gave you the joint as you began to smoke it as well. "Hm, no coughing you must be a pro?" Haechan teased "No no no.. not at all, just really needed this thank you." you giggled as you hiccuped "You know when you couldn't answer that question in class.. I was so relieved." he said taking a long slow hit. "Hmm why?" you asked in confusion, he scooted so close the both of your legs were touching "I'd been wanting you for the longest time." he calmly said handing you the blunt "What?" you coughed, the first time you coughed ever since you two had been in this room Haechan laughed at that. "What do you mean what? I said what I said." You were so close you could see the pores in his skin, "I- i just wasn't expecting that out of you, you seem like the innocent one out of all your friends.." you teased "Innocent? I haven't even done anything to you yet." he inched a bit closer to you. "Yet, you think im that easy Donghyuck?" you whispered taking another hit, "Easy? no. Attracted to me? yes." he whispered back. Haechan took the blunt out of your hand staring at you, the tension was enough to make you go absolutely insane.

"If you're not so easy let me shotgun you." He said with knitted brows, you honestly started to blush you've never been shotgunned before whenever you smoked it was with your best friends. "Are you too scared?" he asked, "Of course not.." you quickly said. "Alright love." he said as he took a long hit, then flicking the blunt out of his hand he grabbed your face and put his lips onto yours. He was holding his breath for so long he began to moan into your mouth. Smoke going down your throat and out of your nose, Your hands began to travel lower down his body. You didn't even stop kissing him until he pulled his shirt off, his skin was so warm and soft. He moaned and whined into your mouth as you moved against his crotch. "Something told me you'd be a tease." he whined, you put your mouth against his neck kissing and sucking onto the skin the way he jerked up you assumed it was a sensitive spot of his. You sucked on his neck leaving marks as you dry humped his crotch, once you sucked his neck leaving wet spot's you'd blow cold air onto it. "Fuck Y/n.. I really can't take this" Haechan said, "What do you mea-" he cut you off as you were about to tease him more. Haechan took you in his mouth, tongues meeting each other the distinct taste of alcohol and weed made you go ballistic. He made sure to keep your tongue in one spot with his teeth leaving you confused as he began to suck your tongue hard and sloppy, that earned a whimper out of you. Haechan let go of your tongue with a loud pop noise, lifting your skirt as you sat straddling him. "I really want you to sit on my face right now Y/n." he said staring into your eyes, you couldn't hold eye contact when he was speaking like that "O-oh okay.." you stuttered. Face sitting something else you've never done you thought it's pretty self explanatory, "Can I take your panties off?" Haechan asked. "Yes.. of course." you sat on his bare chest as he reassured you about all of your worries. "You ready now, love?" he said rubbing circles into your thighs, "Mhm." you began to pull yourself up to his face. "Baby I said sit on it not sit over it." Haechan said causing you to look down, "I'm sorry!.. but are you sure I won't like suffocate you?" you asked. "Yes! now sit down." he laughed, you sat down like he asked and immediately began to moan.

Haechan was licking over your clit before just sucking it, then dragging his tongue across your cunt. You grabbed his black hair starting to guide yourself, Haechan smirked at this hoping you felt more comfortable. "Mm- god! Donghyuck it feels too good." you weren't getting that much of a response so you began to lift yourself a bit more, until Haechan slammed you back down "So pretty and warm." he moaned muffled against your pussy. The amount things you were feeling at once was pure ecstasy, the butterflies, the alcohol, marijuana and the boy between your legs. You slowly rode his face constantly whining and shaking, strangely still holding eye contact with Haechan. God he was so hard he felt like he would just bust out of his pants any moment, you were getter closer you could feel it so could Haechan. "Come on, baby" he moaned as your pace quickened, "F-fuck donghyuck I'm really close." you whined it felt too good. "Then let go for me pretty." you couldn't hold anything in after that cumming on his face with a slight scream then moving to lay on the side of him, "I love how you sound when you cum." he said rubbing circles into your back. "It's your turn Donghyuck." you said jumping on top of him "Do you have a condom?" you asked him, "In my back pocket yeah." Haechan pulls it out and pulls his pants down. The tip was a quite red and there was precum dripping out of it his dick had somewhat of a curve in it, you had gotten ten times hornier. You grabbed his cock and began to sink on to it making his nails dig into your sides, "Fuck baby, so tight." he whined. Your head was thrown into the crook on his neck, the curve of his cock hit every angle just right. You began to slowly move "Mm.. so full Donghyuck." you said kissing at his neck, you were going at a torturing pace for him. "Babygirl I can't do this slow." Haechan said grabbing your hips as he started to ram into you. "F-..Fuck!" you yelped, completely unable to speak it felt way too good Haechan was so big the stretch was burning. "Oh just take it I know you can take this dick." he moaned shoving a finger into your mouth. You kept clenching, he knew you were close. "Just look at you, fuck." he groaned slapping your ass making you squeal. "Y/n, show me your face." he demanded, "W-Why?" you questioned he was talking to you while he was still fucking into you. "I wanna see that pretty face when you make me cum." That honestly did it, you squeezed so tight around Haechan whimpering his name as he came inside the condom moaning your name. You both sat there panting the silence was comfortable Haechan's heart was beating extremely fast, his little breaths were as cute as ever. "Y'know you're the only one that calls me Donghyuck and it doesn't piss me off." he says looking into your eyes and giving you a gentle kiss, "Are you thirsty? hungry? bathroom? cuddle? or.. we can forget this never happened whatever makes you most comfortable Y/n your benefit matters most to me because we....." you had honesty zoned out, Haechan was adorable. You pulled him in with a kiss "Oh shut up I'd love to keep our relationship going After The Party."

[pumpkinsy0]

could you write hcs of curly going to tim for advice after a fight with pony

the girls r fighting??? i cant breath

•the argument wouldve had to been BAD, im talkin insults, object throwin, SOMETHIN, bc tim doesnt care for curlys love life, curly never actively goes to tim for relationship help, curly would rlly b having to put his pride to the side here to go and ask😭

•i dont think curly would immediately go to tim either, this is like a last resort for him, curlys a “private” person

•i feel like this is one of the small moments where curly just acts like an actual teen his age, hes clueless, a lil nervous n shifty, and i think even tim would notice that, wouldn’t say anything about it, but i think that would help him realize how important pony is to him so he’d take this a lil seriously

•tims also had to deal w angelas love life a lil bit and lord knows thats a mess, curlys like the relationship advice guy, he hasnt rlly been in one but can solve problems wel

•allow me to say that while curly is his brother, if curlys the problem, he WILL tell curly, he came to him for the truth so he’ll tell him, but if it was actually ponys fault, he’s 100% having curlys back, aint no guy especially a white guy treatin curly like that🤨🤨

•assuming curly isnt too much of an ass, if tim tells curly hes the problem, he wont storm off like he normally would, he GENUINELY wants to know wtf he did wrong he doesnt see it for the life of him

•curly tries saving some face and asking tim while ges a lil busy and then goes ”so lets say someone you know-“ but tim reads right pass that and says “its about pony isnt it”

•tim takes this time to just, really analyze curly while hes taking, curlys not looking at tim, he’s cracking his fingers, bouncing his leg, just completely out of his element here, and tims cracking small jokes about curly turning into angela w his love life

•like i said, the argument wouldve had to been BAD, maybe it reminds them of how their parents act and lord knows they dont wanna b like em, so tim would genuinely try to fix it

•while curly knows pony is “a bit more sensitive” than others (not rlly but whatever), tim thinks that in the heat if an argument, curlys way too focused w not looking stupid in front of pony that he just forgets that and its like hell on EARTH trying to explain that to him

•after talking w tim, i dont think curly would immediately go to pony, he just, goes for a walk or stays in bed, he actually thinks about the talk for a bit, be doesnt wanna fuck up anything w pony any more, hes planning his comeback💯💯

[see-arcane]

I came across your Jonathan in Hellsing posts and read and reread them enough times to burn them into my brain. The ideas you come up with are fantastic! But I was wondering if you had any thoughts on a Jonathan vs Anderson dynamic? Not necessarily physically fighting (though they definitely could) but like, in regards to their morals, relationship with god, and interactions with Dracucard.

(Ps. Obsessed w your Dracula sequel book and I hope it gets made into a movie that remains true to the characterizations you write and reshapes how the collective public views the characters forever!)

Thank you, this will sustain my gremlin of a writer ego for days

Jonathan and Anderson would have an interesting dynamic. Naturally they have to wind up in opposition if Jonathan's nominally on Team Hellsing. Anderson is fighting using holy magic and sci-fi/Christ sorcery-based regeneration and strength: Cool! He's using all of that to slay monsters: Cool! He has no filter when it comes to what he deems a 'monster,' no matter their actual innocence or level of humanity: Not Cool. In fact, it likely triggers a very specific flavor of ire Jonathan had to swallow back after seeing a certain Wafer burn.

(God is love. But that love is conditional. A truth that holds across the multiverse, apparently.)

((Cue the ringing of steel against steel. Because they've got to get into some kukri versus bayonet action.))

Actual confrontation has to happen when Jonathan either witnesses some arbitrary zealot-edged murder or he jumps to defend Seras or others from his pouncing. Anderson probably lumps Jonathan in with Alucard and Seras' situation at first--up until he learns that the only scar on Alucard's person, the fresh red line over his brow, came from Jonathan.

"Stole some sacred blade for him to play with, did you?"

"Oh no." A grin from Alucard, delighted to tattle. "A shovel spade. Just to prove a point. I do believe he might put us both out of the job before long. He doesn't need any specific toys to play this game. It's all him, Anderson. God picked a favorite whether he likes Him or not."

(And it wasn't you. He may put me down before you ever get the chance. Ha.)

((Notably he never defines what 'god' he refers to, but this framing twists the knife in Anderson better as well as making Jonathan a bit twitchy. It's complicated.))

Anderson takes this. Weirdly. He doesn't have quite the same 'Only I can do X! Only you can do Y!' fixation that Alucard seems to have about someone special~ doing the deed of killing him/being his equal et cetera. His whole deal is an obsessive need to Slay the Monsters. So he looks at Jonathan, sadly Protestant (probably? still? again, complicated), but obviously roiling with reflexive Hate for Alucard, possessing the ability to actually put the overpowered fucker down, and not doing it. Why?

"What is it they have on you, lad? Who has your leash to keep you from doing what comes natural, eh?"

Another clang.

"He's on a leash," said like lead. "He's being put to work for," bitter, bitter, bitter, "a greater good. And the sins I hate him for are long dead."

Sins slightly askew from those he recalls in his history. Van Helsing--no, Hellsing--would not let them slay Dracula back then. Enslaved him instead. Made a thrall of the one who wanted thralls. It is...somewhat uneasy to think of. Enslavement is a position far worse than destruction; it's the same way the Count meant to prey on them. He doesn't like it.

He hates Dracula. He is nauseous in Alucard's presence. But still. He does not like this. Yet where else is there for a time and universe-displaced Victorian cryptid to go?

"That power was given for a reason. Use it, lad. Put it to work against the foul things it was made for. Iscariot's got room for your like if you only repent and turn that knife the right way."

"My life was saved more than once by faith and by the faithful as you know them," Jonathan admits with a bow. "God is love," under his breath.

"That He is--,"

Slice.

Blood spills. The wounds do not heal, the bayonet cannot be gathered up in either shaking hand.

(This Power wounds monsters.)

"No. My god is Love. I have seen your God's love in action. I have been shielded by it and seen it betray the most virtuous soul in Creation. I cannot put my faith in anything so fickle. Especially not in you, who would murder a girl for her sharp teeth or strangers who dare to point out you have acted against a mutual peace. Go home and pray the pain away, Father. Now, or you will not leave with all your pieces."

Anderson exits. Alucard is going to combust out of sheer glee. Iscariot is put on alert alongside Millennium, both groups getting cagey about the concept of new unprecedented competition. Iscariot doesn't like Hellsing having another anti-supernatural ace up their sleeve and the Major and company hate the thought that someone else might have a chance at putting Alucard down (if the bat bastard allows it; he's waiting for Jonathan to juice up as a weightier cryptid for a proper throwdown).

In the meantime, Anderson ponders his cut arms, slowly healing as an ordinary man's would. He shoves Jonathan back on the same shelf as Alucard. Another monster in need of slaying--a blasphemous one of a different make. Some pagan divinity must be at his shoulder. No other. No other.

His arms ache.

[alvivaarts]

About Separate Ways (Spoilers)

Wow, guys. I was super excited to get gameplay footage/input from friends about Separate Ways (too broke to own the base game myself) to put into my longfic, but aside from some super cute Luis/Ada moments, I am... dissapointed.

Capcom hire me, at least I can keep the plot consistent because what the actual fuck.

Will discuss below to avoid spoilers (much more story than gameplay, but gameplay wasn't great either), but I'm not going into insane detail save for some things. READERS BE WARNED!

I'm also specifically looking at this through the lens of my own fanfic, Simulation Swarm, which is my take on how Las Plagas works and infected!Leon (in addition, infected!Ashley and a lot of Leon's unacknowledged trauma and relationship issues throughout the game series). I was majorly excited about Separate Ways because it implied that Ada also gets infected- which I really want to still implement even if it changes a LOT of major things about the fic.

I'll go over the good stuff first. AKA, stuff I'm keeping, and not retconning.

1- Luis' characterization was still amazing. It was really nice to see his character balance out Ada's, how he's still as chipper as he can be. Additionally, it's VERY clear how much he cares for Leon and Ashley alike, and he goes out of his way to get Ada the suppressant and still respects her throughout that process. 2- Pesanta/IT/U-3's design with slightly more of a scorpion shape. That was sick! 3- The fact that Ada was aware of most of Leon's movements and a lot of what happened, and in a way was following him around and handling things he couldn't/wasn't aware of. * 4- Ada didn't help Leon into the chair, Ashley did. But that scene isn't even shown. 5- Luis and Ada def had chemistry, and it was so cute!

Well! Short list. Now for the bad stuff. AKA, shit I'm retconning/ignoring/pretending never happened (most of the DLC).

1- Ada's infection is weird as fuck. She got... shot? And infected? And then, infuriatingly (because I've spent WAY too much time thinking about the physiology of Las Plagas and researching w/ the help of others how the infection would work) PUKES UP her plagas?!?!? HELLO!? This in particular drives me insane because like. Las Plagas nests and develops behind the sternum, between the lungs, where it can attach to the nervous system along the spine. It is TOO BIG for a human body to fight against, it's growth shoving lungs out of the way is why people cough up blood. It's nowhere near the throat or stomach and clearly it's extremely well engineered/evolved for human hosts not to end up in conveniently the wrong location. And if she did puke it up, at that point, miraculously, after two days? Her intestines are fucked. She's dying of internal bleeding. I don't fucking care how much of a bad bitch Ada is because at that point Wesker wasn't gonna help her. The fuck? Capcom, know your own lore challenge. 2- We got NO backstory, not even HINTS about Ada's past and origins. Again. 3- * Seriously made Ada's character into a very flat character and removed a lot of the urgency/clear want for her to help Leon from the original DLC. Seriously, she does not gaf about anything but her mission and making it more convenient for herself. Everything she does to help Leon is sheerly coincedence- which, honest to fuck, does not line up. Especially considering she appears to completely lack empathy until... uh oh, Wesker wants to kill a bunch of people? Like sure, she has that BRIEF conversation with Leon in the boat but like... what happened to the people she has history with, the people she could've ABSOLUTELY been saving to spite Wesker and allow her to have her own motives until whoop-de-doo, uh oh, gotta stop a genocide! Be so for real. 4- Bonus: After Luis helped her and she'd made the deal to get him out, he, still dying, calls her with a warning about Krauser. It took a long time for him to die. She SHOWED UP after witnessing the fight and pretty much just... left him. Despite all of that. Which I get from a 'not fucking with canon' standpoint, but seriously. 0 effort. 5- Krauser literally fucking gets away when she fights him???? 6- Wesker keeps making appearances. For some reason. It's not even clear why, he literally just shows up to be intimidating and to threaten Ada into doing the job but like. At that point, honest to fuck, he could've done it himself? Also it was majorly hard to empathize with Ada considering we STILL KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HER OR HER MOTIVATIONS. 7- Luis has no distinct fire trauma. (Okay. Revoking this after the discussion, I just had a no media literacy moment after everything I was taking in. Luis' response was actually pretty good and honestly? Should be appreciated. Though it does bring up another point- while I love Luis, I guess I was walking in with it more being an expectation for it to be 'Ada's Story'. We didn't get that, though the Luis background was great!) 8- Ashley's interaction with Ada was a single line asking for help and Ada just. Walks off.

Anyway, everything I've seen first hand and have discussed with others has left a sour taste in my mouth. Boo, @Capcom. Good thing I can make up my own stupid little stories and pretend that none of that happened.

[lbulldesigns]

r/relationships

How do I convince my 20-year-old son that I'm serious about kicking him out if he doesn't agree to therapy?

25th of May, 2021

I know that the title sounds bad but please bear with me, this is my first time using Reddit.

I (43 M) am the proud, single father to four children. V (23 F), P (18 F), and twins M and C (20 M). V, C, and M are my bio children (from different mothers) and P is my adoptive daughter and V's bio sister (same mother).

The girl's mother and I had an ugly break-up because I was dumb and panicked when I found out I was going to be a father for the first time with V, at the time I refused to take responsibility and ended up breaking my then girlfriend's heart. Because I never took responsibility, I never accepted my parental rights when my eldest V was born. I paid Child support but that was about it, and then a year and a half into my idiocy I got into a pretty bad accident and was declared dead for two minutes. Doctors at the time were able to resuscitate me and using a series of experimental drugs was able to save my life, however, I now need to live the rest of my life as a shifter (wolf).

This was something I struggled to accept for some time but eventually, I came to accept my new way of life and condition. I spent a year going through intense therapy and seminars, and through this time I had two major revelations. 1) I had failed spectacularly as a man and father, and 2) I didn't want to ever die with regret again.

The first thing I did when getting through my therapy was reach out to my ex and establish contact with my daughter, I was FINALLY ready to take responsibility but was too late. My ex had found someone new, someone who wasn't afraid to step up and do what I wasn't willing to do. He took responsibility for my daughter, and she was calling him Daddy instead of me. I won't lie this hurt but I swallowed my pride and accepted that it was no one's fault but my own.

My ex wasn't willing to disrupt V's worldview just to cater to my change of mind, which I accepted, but she was willing to slowly integrate me into her life on the condition that we didn't reveal anything until our daughter was old enough to understand. Which I agreed to.

Her husband was a good man and wanted to make this situation work for everyone, there was a bit of awkwardness when V would run up to him for hugs and look at me as a stranger (which I was) but he never rubbed it in my face or ever got antagonistic with me. I had, and still have, a great deal of respect for the man and I will forever be grateful to him for doing what I was too bullheaded to do.

Half a year after I became a father to my twin boys, a one-night stand who never informed me of the pregnancy and just left the two on my business's doorstep. Two years after that, my ex gave birth to P and I was named her and V's Godfather after my ex witnessed how quick I was to take responsibility for the boys after getting a paternity test done and it coming back positive.

And then five years after, my ex and her husband were shot dead by two trigger-happy Enforcers and they, in an attempt to cover their tracks, buried the girls in the foster system it took a year to find them both. They had been separated at some point and it was a miracle that I found either let alone both of them. After I found them, I made quick work to adopt both of them and go from a single father of two to a single father of four.

It was rough, I'm not gonna lie, V was angry at the world, P was scared of the world, and my boys were confused but C managed to adjust quickly and whilst M took to V he had an instant dislike for P.

I had explained to the boys that V was their bio sister, this secret came out to V when she was found by a friend of mine and as a result, was angry and confused about everything. M accepted this but kept asking why we were taking P if she wasn't family, which I quickly corrected that she was family.

My condition seemed to be a huge concern for P's therapist, who tried to convince P that I was untrustworthy and abusive. P told me what her therapist said and the woman was investigated and proven to be biased towards anyone who wasn't 100% human.

I tried to get P back into therapy but nothing ever worked out, she had a strong distrust for them and was also influenced by V who was adamant about not going to therapy. I know I should have continued their therapy but they seemed okay on their own after a while, both girls would open up to me about their problems and V was able to find an outlet for her anger through boxing, which I taught until she was old enough to join a team around her age group.

P in turn took up learning gymnastics and even won a few competitions, she also took up art and was a natural science whizz.

I apologize for the long story but wanted to give some insight into my family. Whilst we were able to find some stable ground, there have been some issues outside of the initial teething stage. The first obstacle was the girl's maternal uncle (42 M), he had been an old friend of mine since childhood. His sister was my ex and after I abandoned my responsibilities to his sister and niece, we lost touch. He and his sister had a falling out, I don't know the specifics, and he was never contacted when his sister died. When he found out I had both girls he wanted custody of them, but because my name was on V's birth certificate and P was attached to V, the court saw fit to grant custody to me with visitation rights granted to Sil (maternal uncle).

The second obstacle we had was my son M. As I mentioned he took an instant dislike to P, and despite my hopes that deep down he cared for her, never warmed up to her presence in our lives.

He would constantly make her cry with his insults, and he for a time would hide her school projects from her (which stopped after the fifth time when I confiscated his game console and laptop).

I tried for a long time to get him to bond with P and explain to him that his behavior was harmful, I spoke with his school counselor to get him some unbiased opinions on his behavior, and when I would bring up therapy he would retort that if I wasn't making the girls go to therapy then I shouldn't be making him go. None of my tactics seemed to work and the more I admonished him the meaner he would be towards my youngest. After some time I decided to reward him if he didn't bully his sister, which seemed to work for a while, but now I am wondering if I didn't just make him more subtle about his bullying.

About a week ago I was in my kitchen preparing dinner when I heard a loud banshee-like scream and a loud thump. I went running into my entryway where I found P on top of M hitting him again and again shouting that she hated him. I was taken by surprise by this and pulled P off of M, it was surprisingly difficult to do so because she was determined to pummel him. I'm not proud of this but I ended up taking her by the shoulders and growling at her to calm down, which she did but she looked scared and I saw that she was ready to either fight or run, I started to tell her to get out of the house for a bit and go stay at her friends to cool off but all I got out was "Get out" before she bolted from the house. I shouted after her to go to her friend's house but she was already gone.

After checking up on M and taking him to the hospital (he was fine, just some bruising and blood) I interrogated him about what happened after he blew up at me for always "going easy" on P, and he said that P was crying so he called her a crybaby. This felt extreme on her part but I knew that there was something else at play and decided to ask her the next day when I saw her. I said that P shouldn't have attacked him but asked M why he insulted her rather than ask if she was okay, and he just said "She's always crying. I can't walk past her room without hearing her cry. She is a crybaby" I felt disturbed and still feel disturbed and disappointed by his lack of empathy.

At this point, I felt something had to give and I gave him an ultimatum. Therapy or leave the house.

I know I shouldn't have given an ultimatum but P is 18 and struggling with a few personal things (I won't elaborate) and her unemployed 20-year-old brother constantly being on her back wasn't helping.

I'll try to dot point everything that happened afterwards because this is getting really long:

I went to see P the next day and found out she never went to her friend's (ex-friends?) house. I should have called and made sure she was there but she always goes to his house when upset so I just assumed she was there. No words can describe how shameful I feel for not checking.

We went to the Enforcers but they "couldn't help".

We discovered that P had at some point snuck back into the house grabbed some of her belongings and left a note saying she was leaving, and her being 18 means that we can't make a missing persons report because she's left voluntarily.

M refuses to speak to me because he feels betrayed by my ultimatium, which I'm still holding up.

I've felt like absolute dirt for the past week, and am absolutely wrecked with guilt over P.

A few hours ago my son C showed me a post from r/offmychest where M was talking about how he hopes P never comes back home, and is talking about going NC with me.

I know that he isn't taking me seriously with the ultimatium. I know I probably shouldn't still be holding true to said ultimatium but something needs to give.

He is 20, he can't keep going through life with this lack of empathy.

I plan on talking to him soon.

What can I say or do to make him see that I am serious?

And how can I do it in a way that won't tear my family apart even more than it already is?