#i am NOT saying that i think this could have been an intentional choice in the film

[storytellering]

Do you think DMC has a incestuous subtext? I am kind of new to the franchise (and also the fandom... Which isn't really respectful that I can see) and I want to know if I am not the only one who thinks that it's pretty obvious why the ships between DVN have many believers.

First of all, welcome to DMC, anon! And OH BOY, you'll definitely find that that's the majority opinion, at least within the Spardacest circles - honestly, most "normie" circles too. Every grass-touching, non-internet poisoned dudebro I've ever met and talked dmc with has made one or two incest jokes at me about it, definitely noting how the rivalry between the twins is very charged - the only people I've found who flat out deny it are the antis. To go more in depth about the actual subtext there - well, one should start with the roots of dmc in dmc1, right? DMC1 is definitely a gothic game - it's everywhere in the aesthetics, the inspirations, the imagery and the environment, and what is gothic horror without the incest? The initial incest in Kamiya's dmc, before Itsuno stepped in, was definitely obvious in Dante and Trish (who I'm pretty sure according to kamiya at least were supposed to be endgame) - and like, c'mon. You can say all you want that she only looks like his mom, she isn't actually Eva, she doesn't even have her personality... but from a moral perspective, that's still weird as fuck if we're going by real life standards, right? You wouldn't fuck a clone of your mom without it being at least a little bit incestuous.

Then Itsuno stepped in from 3 on, and the incestuous undertones became more focused on the immediate Sparda family - the twins, and eventually, Nero.

...Do I need to even explain it? Sure, in 3 the twins bicker and banter like real brothers, but there's definitely a suggestive edge to it - so many quips between them that really cannot be explained by "oh haha brotherly banter" without it getting at least a little bit weird. Not to mention all the "impalement as penetration" comparisons that can be drawn, and I'll leave a nice little video that goes deeper into a lot of that (as well as the gothic inspirations in the dmc franchise) so you can hear it from the mouth of someone far more eloquent than me.

And then in 4... I mean, if the amount of people who almost ubiquitously shipped Dante and Nero as soon as 4 dropped and continued doing so until 5 officially confirmed their relation (which, to be fair, Nero being Dante's nephew had actually been hinted at all along, but exactly because of so many people shipping them and not wanting it to be incestuous/the dudebros not liking Nero very much when 4 was new, pretty much everyone in the english speaking side of the fandom had been in denial about it until 5 spelled it out in big, bold letters) is kind of the test, no? That the tension and chemistry is so obvious the moment the incest element is hidden or unclear, everyone is suddenly in agreement about it. I could go on and on and on about Nero's obvious puppy crush/hero worship on Dante, Dante's immediate fondness of Nero, how if you read the 4 novels it's even more blatant and in your face... but all I'm gonna say is that that initial fight scene was softcore porn and no one can convince me otherwise, lmao. Listen, I'm just saying that if the intention wasn't to be suggestive, having Nero wrap his legs around Dante to pull him closer, bite his gun, and then straddle him like that was a very poor choice. Honorable mention for the reboot, whose devs were VERY aware of the tension between the Spardas in the og franchise, called it out by saying their game wasn't gonna do "all that gay shit" (obviously in the early 2010s the issue wasn't the incest, but it being GAY incest 🙄) and then accidentally made their version of the twins SO very....... whatever the hell is going on with the reboot twins. Not not-incestuous and definitely not straight, I'll tell you that.

And then 5, again. Do I need to explain it? Nero and V are, once again, a perfect textbook example of "couple that had so much natural chemistry everyone was flocking to it before it was revealed to be incest", plus the way everything about Dante's story, at the end, now that he's a weathered old man, is made to revolve around Vergil... yes, Dante is a depressed old alcoholic because he pushed everyone away, because of the laundry list of issues he ended up with because of everything that happened in his life, BUT Vergil was always front and center within it, even when he wasn't there. That Dante's story quite literally begins and ends with Vergil... well. I dunno about you, that just doesn't feel like your regular siblings dynamic. Also another honorable mention: "I'll make you submit" is a totally normal thing to say to your estranged father. Not weird at all with absolutely zero implications. OH, not to mention, even if we stay purely within canon and don't even look deeper at any implications or subtext... the literal only canon couple is incestuous, too. Let's not forget Kyrie and Nero are adopted siblings, Nero was raised as her brother, and the game itself calls it out in the character descritption (in 4's character bios it says Kyrie is at once Nero's "lover and family") + it's quite literally spelled out in the novels (having Nero think that "well, while it's true that he's been raised with Kyrie as siblings, he would've liked her even if they weren't family"). There's SO much more I could still go into, I have quite literally spent the past 3 years replaying the games over and over and overthinking/hyperanalizing every single frame, rereading the novels and the mangas to the point I could cite them by memory, and it's just... I dunno. I saw someone else say this somewhere, but if you're into DMC and grossed out by incest... this might not be the franchise for you.

[copia]

not to get dramatic but one of copia’s dissociative translations in his troubled head was seeing sister imperator’s saucer of pills as a mug of tea and biscuits. he’s clearly an unreliable narrator who sees things we can’t trust to be true; going off of this, can we trust that the mug of tea he was handed before the encore was actually that? who’s got time to down a whole mug of hot tea when you’ve still got three songs to perform? isn’t it a strange beverage to give him out of all the other options? don't get me wrong i'm absolutely not being serious here (also not insinuating that copia is ill like seestor, i'm going down the psychological route) but what i'm saying is he could have been handed medication he didn't want to acknowledge

[edwinisms]

it’s actually so wild to me that this fairly quirky YA type show gave both of its main characters deaths that can, in one way or another, solidly be considered hate crimes. they were both flat out murdered as a result of being A) gay and effeminate or B) brown (south asian, specifically) and you could argue whether or not those kids thought of it that way in the moment or whatever but the bottom line is that they would not have been in the situations that killed them if they weren’t of their respective minorities. like legitimately that is a ballsy choice for this kind of netflix show, let alone for the two Main Characters, and i respect it big time

[junotter]

sometimes researching for avatar redesigns has you 6 layers deep into the Japan's Meiji era allies wiki

[fideidefenswhore]

soulmate-ism ❤️

[outerspace-iiinnerspace]

one thing i think about on occasion was when i was in this art class in college and i was making a painting of an astronaut and the grad assistant was going around checking on people and looking at our projects and we were talking about mine and i said something where i referred to the astronaut as a he and she went "or she" and i was like "huh?" and she talked about how the astronaut didn't have to be a man, there are women astronauts too!

and i said yeah, that's true, but this is a painting of a guy, and she said it didn't have to be because one of the things about my subject was that because you can't see the face or tell the body type you could imagine anyone in that space suit, it's universal, and that's actually really powerful and that's why she liked my painting and and i was forced to say yeah but this is a man. its buzz aldrin. and i showed her the photo of buzz aldrin that i was basing the painting on.

[zhongrin]

festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon, size/strength difference

gn reader

Thinking about breaking things off with your fuck friend 'cause you feel he's been catching feelings you have no intention of pitching...

“Why.” He asked, and the cross you’d made on your fingers in a wish to avoid the entire conversation untangled with a sigh.

“Please, don’t act dumb.” You groaned, exasperated and slightly irked. “You know why….” 

“No. Tell me.” He argued, and you sighed again in regret of your own common decency – wishing you’d taken the entire break-off over text instead, or at the very least taken the time to think about what you would say or do if and when he got this way. 

“You...”

You hesitated, taking a second to decide whether or not you really ought to voice it out loud – not because you had any doubts of it being true – but because the man in front of you was still very much a large brawny beefcake with temper issues no matter your sneaking suspicion that he saw you as something more than just a fuck friend.

“You’re getting too...” You continued, still scrambling for better words. Coming up short. “Clingy.”

He paused, his expression going from searching to a mix of offended and scrutinous.

“Clingy?” He repeated, forced disbelief a present factor in his tone. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who clings to me- screaming my name- begging me to cum inside you and-”

You cut his rant off with yet another sigh accompanied by a shake of your head. “That’s not what I mean by clingy. I’m sorry, I should have said emotional, and your comment just proved that.”

You folded your arms across your chest, watching him reel.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. We’re done.” 

You left him on the sofa to go put your shoes back on – admonishing yourself for coming inside in the first place when you could have just as quickly done this on the doorstep and walked away.

“You're not going anywhere until we talk this through.” He followed, his stronger hand latching onto your upper arm in a grip that was unnecessarily harsh.

You didn’t really mind, though – it was his lack of charm that had charmed you to begin with – you only wished he’d remained that same savage he was and not gone all lovey-dovey soft on you.

“There's nothing to discuss.” You felt as though you were repeating yourself, getting more annoyed by the fact. “It was fun; now it isn't.” You underlined, looking back into his eyes, cringing when seeing the gloss of something that you really hoped wouldn’t amount to tears while you were still there.

“I'm gonna need more than that.” He said, the grip on your arm still kept firm with no inclination of letting up.

You didn’t really want things to get more awkward by asking him to let you go – feeling as though maintaining the position of strength was important so he not mistake your resolution.

He had a nasty habit of never taking you seriously.

“You’re being childish.” You stated.

“Childish?!”

His grip tightened with his outburst, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your heart jump to your throat.

"Let go of me." Your voice had significantly diminished.

"You think you can tease me like this and then tell me to piss off?” He seethed, your arm aching in the bruising grip he had on it as he pulled you close until your face was an inch from his. “Think again."

Your breath thinned under his glare, and you felt nearly too stiff to do anything except stare back up at him in wait.

“Calm down.” You tried, but it seemed choice words were too little too late to save you.

“I am calm.” He hissed back into your face before pulling you back to the sofa.

Throwing you down on your back – you didn’t even have the time to gasp before he was on top of you.

“Get off me-” You whined, your hands shooting forth – trying with all your might to heave him off, but ultimately amounting to nothing more than a slight annoyance to the much larger man on top.

“It's all about sex with you, right? You want to have fun, right?” He said in a craze, and you cringed while he leaned down to graze your chest with chin-stubble and lips, whispering at your peachfuzz until goosebumps rose. “So let's have some fun.”

“Stop it – I said I don't want to anymore – I’m being serious.” You tried, once again – appealing to his reason.

But it would seem he was beyond reason…

“Oh? You're being serious?” He mocked with a sneer and a laugh. “You don't look it. If you want me to stop so badly, then stop me. Come on~ try a little harder. Show me how serious you are.”

You’re not sure why you took him up on the challenge, as you’d long known of your differences in build – how you posed as much of a threat as a bug in a mason jar...

But even a bug will try to escape still after the lid has been sealed.

“Come on~ you're not even trying~” He grossly crooned, smiling at your pitiful attempt at twisting him off with the useless help of your silly hands – how your much smaller body writhed beneath his weight and tried wriggling free.

Laughing dryly, he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cushion beneath you. Sagging over you, his breath fanned your lips.

“What was I to you, huh?” He asked in a murmur, his face blank but his eyes swirling. “Just a toy?”

You were afraid to breathe, only keeping your gaze terror-wide of what he might do – still grasping to fathom how he’d even felt possessed enough to do this much – confused as to how you’d missed the signs while having not a single clue what more he was capable of.

“Guess now you're my toy, huh...” He muttered coldly.

And you just couldn’t help the whimper that it tore from you – finally understanding exactly what position you were in.

The disorienting knowing of what was soon to happen dawned on you mercilessly – and you completely broke under the hefty weight it had. 

“Oh? You’ gonna cry now?” He scoffed before hissing. “That's cute, seeing as I’m the one who’s had his heart stepped on.”

“S-stop it, get off me-” You cried, whole body shaking where you squirmed to no use nor end.

“Not so cold-hearted now, are yah, fuckin' bitch?” Was all he had to say while leaning into where thick streams of tears rapidly ran down your cheeks in stingy streaks. “You scared?” He whispered in licks at your ear. “Gonna start begging, hm?”

You only shook – eyes squeezed tightly to a close.

“Nah…” His tone scraped, similar to how the shaven stubble on his chin scratched lightly against your neck as he started placing small kisses there despite your whines. “'Cause you want this too. I know you do.” He insisted. “You're just scared I'll break your little heart at some point.”

You’re breath hitched as his hands parted with its twin – leaving it to keep your wrists pinned by itself as the other one traveled down between your bodies to undo your zipper.

You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to – listening to him and his lovesick speech – full of so many things you feared could trigger much sicker things.

“But I promise you that no one’s heart is gonna break here.” He vowed, still with his lips pressed wetly against your throat. “Not yours or mine.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Shinso, Kirishima

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo

HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins

BLLK – Reo, Isagi

AOT – Eren

[ellecdc]

I'm back with another request!!!

This one is remus×femreader bc we love remi in this house

Basically, remi and reader are arguing about something stupid (something to do with books) and there's a lot of flirting going on whilst arguing. Remus starts becoming a little amused while arguing and tries to hide his smile (we all know he has eyes that glitter when he's happy). Reader gets annoyed and starts going off on him and Remus kisses her to shut her up. The thing is, the reader has never been kissed before. And she REALLY likes him. So she's shocked to say the least. She stares at him in disbelieve and Remi's like "what" and she goes "you kissed me" "ik" Remus says plainly. "I've never been kissed before" reader whispers while looking down, ashamed. Remus feels bad so he takes her by her shoulders, tilts her chin up, and kisses her again. Properly.

Thanks, love! Here are some flowers for you 💐

soooo cute - hope I did your idea justice!!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader who has never been kissed

CW: fluff, narrative around consent

“I cannot believe you just said that.” You deadpanned, staring at Remus with a fiery glint in your eye as he watched you very clearly try to fight off a smile. 

“Why would I not say it?” Remus asked incredulously as you repositioned yourself on the sofa to angle your body towards him for better arguing.

“Because it’s so incredibly wrong.”

“Well now that’s ignorant.”

You scoffed disbelievingly at him. “You did not just call me ignorant.”

“Nope, wrong again.” He laughed. “I said your statement was ignorant.”

“In what sodding world did Amy and Laurie make any sense?” You asked then, slapping your hand against your knee to punctuate your question.

“Uhm, this one? Obviously, that’s why it’s canon.”

You pursed your lips as if you were restraining yourself from bodily launching yourself at Remus; he really wished you wouldn’t.

“Author’s don’t get it right all of the time.” You said instead of telling Remus to go fuck himself. 

“I don’t think that’s true; this book has become a classic for a reason. Louisa May Alcott didn’t write these things by accident, there was intention and purpose behind these characters and their choices.”

“Yes, and the purpose was to drive readers mad!” You nearly screeched.

“Or perhaps it was to illustrate to young women that they don’t need to settle for their childhood friend.” He countered. 

“It wasn’t settling! She loved him back!” 

Remus couldn’t help but smile then; between your passion, how cute you looked when you were wound up, and the fact that you were screaming about love made his own heart beat in double time. 

“You’re sodding laughing at me.” You narrated with a disbelieving head shake, clearly misinterpreting Remus’ lovesick expression for humour. “Remus Lupin! Stop laughing at me!” You shouted playfully, landing a few good whacks on his arm with the book as he pretended to shield himself from you. 

“Okay, so not only do you have horrid takes on classic literature, but you also use classic literature to assault people? What has the world come to?” Remus teased as you continued your attack. 

“You. Are. Infuriating!” You spat, punctuating each word with a whack as you moved to stand on your knees for better access to Remus.

Better access indeed he decided as he quickly grabbed your wrists, rendering your weapon utterly useless as it hung limp in your hand.

“I’m infuriating, am I?” He asked you quietly.

“Exhausting.” You agreed, matching his volume.

“Exhausting?”

“Troublesome.”

“Is that so?” 

“And completely unromantic! I mean, how could-”

But he never got to hear what your next argument was about how perfect Laurie and Jo would have been together before he quickly slotted his lips against yours.

For how energetic the conversation had been, the kiss was decidedly not; it was soft, gentle, tentative, and Remus only hoped you couldn’t read him like a book for how utterly in love he was with you. 

And entirely too soon was Remus pulling away from your face, still holding your wrists as he looked between your eyes.

“You…kissed me.” You whispered; the statement sounding nearly like a question as you looked at Remus with a mixture of shock and bemusement. 

Remus felt his stomach drop; was he not supposed to? He should have asked first; fucking arse. Had he read this all wrong; were you not into him like that? Had he been projecting his own feelings onto you, merely expecting you to reciprocate feelings he’d never properly expressed? 

“Yes…I- was that not okay?”

“I…I’ve never been kissed before…” You admitted quietly, arms falling limp in Remus’ hands as he loosened his grip. 

“Oh dove, I’m sorry. I- did…you want to be kissed?” He asked, leaving out the ‘by me?’ 

You looked surprised at his question; the corner of your mouth turning upwards as you examined Remus' face. He hoped to Godric his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. 

“Very much so.” You whispered.

Feeling hopefully brave by the way your fingers were fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve and the way your eyes were fixed on his lips, he moved his hands to your waist and encouraged you to straddle his lap. You positioned yourself immediately, as if being in his lap was the most natural thing in the world, watching as his hands trailed up to your shoulders and down your arms, guiding your hands to rest on his shoulders. 

“Yeah?” He asked under his breath. 

“Please.” You whispered back.

“Oh pretty girl,” he cooed; pushing a lock of hair behind your ear before hooking a finger under your chin to pull your lips towards his. “It’d be my absolute pleasure.”

[101maverick]

Damian Wayne Ah Ghul with a reader who is super shy? Like she meets his family and she's practically hiding behind Damian? No pressure, but I'm just a naturally shy person myself.

A/n: I've been thinking of a meeting like this for a while now! tho in my daydreams the reader is a lot more bubbly and stuff, but this one is super fun too! I think I might write them both out :) When it comes to Damian I tend to envision him around his canon age (12ish I think?) because it gives me agency to explore puppy love and I find it so cute! Plus I'm a sucker for school shenanigans hehe🤭 Here Damian is around 15-16 :) Hope you enjoy!! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

Word count: 1642

Meeting the Family

Your hands are clammy.

Not even overtly so, just enough to make you uncomfortable, to get that unbearable out-of-place sensation one always gets when something's slightly wrong and it feels like life has decided to point a spotlight to it.

You nervously adjust your dress' skirt, fiddling with the hem to make sure it sat at just the right height. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time picking it out, having Damian come by your house earlier than necessary to make sure your choice was appropriate for this occasion, along with your hair and what little makeup you had decided to put on.

He had assured you countless times that you 'could never be anything less than far above standard' , and while that did put you at ease you still have to do your best to relax as you build up the courage to enter the house, Damian waiting by your side.

You and Damian had started 'dating' around three months ago now, and this was your first time meeting his family.

Whenever you think back to how he proposed to you a chuckle curls your lips upward, remembering how out of your depth you felt as he announced his intent of 'courting' you while he held a baby kitten out to you.

The memory loosens you up a bit, and you nod to Damian, who rings the doorbell. He's been holding your hand the whole time, something you find extremely sweet. He gives your hand a squeeze.

Sooner than you'd like, the door opens and you are greeted by the Wayne family's butler, who your boyfriend had informed you is basically like a grandfather figure for them.

He’s an older man, standing tall in a prim and creaseless suit despite his age. His eyes crinkle as the corners of his mouth uptick just the slightest bit, remaining composed as he greets you two.

“Ah, Master Damian, you have finally returned with our guest I see.” He says, looking at your boyfriend. He then turns to you. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, miss…” he trails off.

You can feel your cheeks burn up, and your tongue tangles up as you haste to give him your name. You try to downplay the stutter as much as you can, and rush through the rest of greetings and pleasantries. “It is very nice to meet you as well, mr. Pennyworth.”

Mr. Pennyworth just nods curtly and opens the door wider, making space for you and Damian to enter. "I am glad, miss. Please, follow me to the sitting room." After a nod from Damian, he turns around and starts walking down the hallway to the left of the grand staircase the Manor's foyer opens up to.

The ceiling is extremely tall in this part of the house, two stories high at the very least. The ancient mahogany of the staircase is intricately carved, and the deep, rich blue-green carpet covering the steps gives the entire ensemble a much more regal look, with the way it matches the curtains that are pulled apart to let in all the midday light from the six-feet tall arch windows. It feels way too regal for someone like you.

Damian, on the other hand, looks completely in his element. Not only is this his house, he just fits in with this sort of environment, this regal, sophisticated, high-class one. The blue-green of the curtains and carpets makes the emerald of his eyes pop, and the dark mahogany compliments his tanned skin, reflecting the golden glow of the sun.

Looking at him, you feel a bit surer of yourself, and you straighten your shoulders to match his stance. You're just meeting his family. You can do this.

Mr. Pennyworth leads you to the sitting room. Damian's entire family is lounging there, the majority sitting up while a few rest on the plush couches and chairs. The moment you step foot in the doorway, all conversation stops and all eyes turn toward you.

You can't do this.

————————————

Each of the Wayne family members are here, it seems, and the more you stand there the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

All of these people have been gathered here today for a family lunch because you have come over, and dang if that doesn't make you feel like the inconvenience of the year.

Only a fool doesn't know about how important each of them is, and you certainly aren't one.

Richard "Dick" Grayson, world-class acrobat and notorious heartthrob since his teens, and he surely has better places to be today than here. Keeping up with all of his connections is basically a full-time job, with how Gotham socialites are.

Jason Todd, recently come back from his years-long trip around the world, could be playing golf with the Prince of England right now instead of meeting his youngest brother's high-school girlfriend.

Timothy Drake, at nineteen is C.E.O. of Drake Industries and Bruce Wayne's representative for Wayne Enterprises, right now he could be closing billion-dollar business deals.

Duke Thomas, had graduated from high school at sixteen and at eighteen is in the most prestigious chemistry program in the Continent, he could be studying for the cure of cancer right now.

Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne's only daughter and an extremely elusive person for the media, you're sure she'd much rather a virtual stranger wasn't snooping around in her family's home.

There are also two other people, a red-haired woman that looks to be around Dick Grayson's age and a blonde girl around nineteen.

And, of course, there's Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Billionaire, philanthrope, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises, arguably the most important person in Gotham and certainly the richest person in New Jersey. One of his charities is always in sight every time you turn a corner on the street in Gotham Proper, his company's name is plastered on almost every single electronically device you can find, and his name is always in the mouth of the press, making headlines day in-day out.

Oh Gosh, you can already imagine it. 'Lowly peasants thinks she can date his son, Brucie Wayne obliterates her and her dynasty'.

Before you know it, your breathing has become laboured and you're standing pressed to Damian's side, trying to fuse with his shadow.

You have no idea how you're gonna hold a conversation with all of these people.

Damian, bless him, saves you. "If you all could quit ogling my beloved like imbeciles, we could go on with introductions." His chin is held up high, and he takes turns staring into each of his family members' eyes, as if daring them to object. With the way he's standing, his body almost covers you, giving you a blanket of security that allows you to relax.

The rest of the room's occupants regain their composure, and Mr. Wayne breaks out into a blinding smile, coming up to you.

"Pardon me! We just hadn't heard you coming down the hallway is all. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Mr. Wayne holds out his hand, and you shake it. His grip is gentle. "Come in, please, make yourself comfortable."

Damian guides you to a couch next to which is a window. The rays of sun catch in his dark hair, reflecting almost-blue. He looks at you, and as he does so you relax. Damian may rarely show it but he has an extremely expressive face, and you have learned to read it.

Right now you read sureness in his jaw, calmness in the set of his brow and something warm and reassuring in the slightest widening of his eyes, the one that happens specifically when e tilts his head downwards to fix his gaze better in yours.

"I must admit I've been waiting for this moment for a good while, I was very curious. Damian has talked a lot about you."

Your eyebrows raise. You start fidgeting with Damian's hand in your lap. "Oh, he-he has?" It comes out as a mumble. You'd beat yourself up over it in normal circumstances but as it stands, you're just glad you are talking at all.

This thought is overshadowed by an eruption of laughter from further inside the room.

"Oh yes he has, the brat has been talking our ears off all day for months! By how he talks, he thinks you've hung the moon and the stars in the night sky." A cackle follows the sentence. You're pretty sure your cheeks are on fire.

Next to you, you notice the tips of Damian's ears turn darker. "Quit your complaining, Todd. It is not my fault if everything you do is subpar compared to her every action."

"Da-Damian!" You whisper-yell next to him, "You can't just say that!"

"Oh, don't worry," Pipes up someone from a chair. You recognise him as Timothy Drake. "Seeing as you've put up with him for months, I think we all believe it. It takes the patience of a saint to do that." He says, a slight smirk on his face.

The rising of cackles in the air and the indignant squawk from Damian pull a little giggle from you, and you squeeze Damian's hand while Dick Grayson placates him.

Mr. Pennyworth, who had disappeared down the hallway after you had reached the sitting room, reappears at the entrance. 1679

“Masters, Misses, the lunch is ready. If you may follow me to the dining room…”

“Thank you Alfred.” Says Mr. Wayne, and after a curt nod from the butler everyone files out of the sitting room.

As you take your place next to Damian at the dining table, listening to Damian and Timothy bicker, you feel more at ease than you ever hoped of feeling while waiting on the front steps.

Your hand is warm in Damian’s still.

————————————

A/n: I wish I had been able to put more Damian/Reader interaction in this but in order for it to work in my vision of their eventual relationship I need them to be alone so unfortunately it couldn't happen for this pic :( I do have more Damian x Reader requests in my inbox tho so there's a high chance I'll be able to expand on it! Plus I'm considering making a list of head canons for Damian and Reader's relationship >:)

[plutoasteroids]

PAC How Will Your Future Spouse's Father (Your Father-In-Law) Feel About You.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: This reading is solely for entertainment purposes only! I am not responsible for any decisions taken based on my readings.

This is a general reading so if nothing resonates don't take it to heart. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

ASK BOX is always open

TW: MENTION OF NEGLECT AND ABUS3. IF ITS A TRIGGER FOR YOU AND YOU CONTINUE TO READ ANYWAY PLEASE DON'T BLAME ME ITS YOUR CHOICE!

PILE 1

Your father-in-law would view you as something new and different, you may be the complete opposite of the general type of your FS normally goes for but in a good way because I feel your FS doesn't necessarily have the best track record when it comes to picking their partners. Your father-in-law will quickly approve of you it feels almost like they'll say to your FS 'you made a good choice'.

But at the very beginning they may feel a bit unsure about you specifically because of the way you carry yourself, you could be really shy and not talkative or super confident anyways they just won't be 100% sure about you more so because he doesn't have a clear grasp on your personality or even your intention.

Them being unsure will quickly change and the two of you may have a relationship based on understanding or similar values or opinions. You'll have some sort of mutual understanding that will bring you both closer, in the long run they'll for sure view you as their child maybe even as somewhat of a friend.

Your Father-in-law gives me scholar vibes if not heavy lawyer vibes, lawyer, professor, teacher maybe even a priest.

PILE 2

They will feel somewhat withdrawn from you. I don't think your future father-in-law is involved in your FS' life, as in they are around but they never took an active role, so they won't have much of an opinion on you. It seems like they might see you from a distance like maybe through social media.

But from what they know about you they feel like you're very passionate and enthusiastic about life in general because your life will be pretty well. They feel like you have your life together and they like that.

But there is some sadness here mainly relating to the fact that their child found their life partner and are moving on with life and they can't be a part of that. They might do some introspection to try change and get better, they may even try to slowly enter yours and your FS lives.

It feels like they may have been a dead-beat dad for some of you and for other just emotionally unavailable and maybe slightly abus!ve.

PILE 3

Your father-in-law it seems like they may be aware of your existence in their child's life, but they aren't aware of how significant you are but finding out about your significance in your FS life might be somewhat of a pleasant surprise to him.

He will have a positive opinion on you, feeling like you bring some balance and happiness to your future spouse, and it feels like he won't be too active in your life and that of your fs. Like not absent but giving you two space to be your own people and your own couple, but he'll be there when you need advice, or you need someone to talk to.

I think you may give him a fresh perspective on life, and he'll certainly appreciate your views and your opinions. He seems to eb more on the unconventional side.

Random information: He may pay for your wedding (if you want to get married) just because he wants to and it would make him happy to pitch in financially.

He may not be married to your FS' mother. Like he is married to your FS' stepmother, or their partner isn't the biological parent of your FS. I also get the vibe of it being maybe a same sex marriage.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride ! PJO or Time Travel drarry if you please ? Thank you !!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Poseidon hadn’t known what to expect, when he’d found Sally near hysterical and their son’s empty room, when he’d gone to the armory and found a sword missing from the armory with comical IOU scratched in it’s place. He had thought Sally’s mortal mind simply did not have an appreciation for scale, that a teenage demigod was far enough from a seven year old one as to appear closer to a god than a mortal.

He'd underestimated Sally. Not the first time. Hopefully the last.

Percy, nearly fully grown, tips his head back and meets his gaze evenly. He understands why Sally mistook them at first glance.

He doesn’t know if he’s ever had a demigod child take after him quite this starkly before.

“Your mother is beside herself.”

Percy winces, pulling a knee to his chest. “Yeah. The Mist is taking care of the mortal stuff, right? No one’s blaming her for anything.”

Poseidon’s lips thin. “No. Your lack of presence is simply being – ignored.”

Demigod children die young all the time. It wouldn’t do for mortal law enforcement to look into it to closely.

“That’s good,” Percy says. “I should call her. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Why did you call me?” he asks, instead of any of the other questions he’s burning to know the answers to. Just meeting him has been enough to answer some of them.

Persephone’s influence lingers around him so powerfully that if he didn’t know better, he’d be questioning if Percy was his son rather than hers.

He resists the urge to ask after the child version of his son. Sally has already said that Percy doesn’t know, and besides, the difference is not as jarring for him as it was for Sally. He has very little to compare him to.

Percy shrugs. It’s insolent and leaves Poseidon wondering what type of relationship they have in the future that Percy is both this easy in his presence and that Poseidon allowed his son to do something this monumentally stupid in the first place.

Then again, with Persephone’s hand in this, it’s likely he had very little say in it.

“You and Mom are the only ones who know who I am,” he says. Percy couldn’t have known that he’d spoken to his mother before calling him, but he supposes that’s irrelevant. He knows his blood. Barring that, he knows his own eyes. “I guess I just – will you look out for them? If something happens to me?”

Poseidon looks over at the cliff’s edge, at the three sleeping children huddled around a dying flame. Athena, his enemy. Hermes, who he’s never called a friend. Zeus, who’s child shouldn’t even exist, although he acknowledges the irony there. “Is she the child of prophecy, then? Is that what all this is about?”

“She’s a child,” Percy says, voice suddenly hard. “They all are. Isn’t that enough?”

Ah. There’s Sally in him.

“Are you not also a child?” he asks gently.

He snorts. “No. Technically, barely, but not really. This isn’t about me.”

Poseidon thinks it is. He doesn’t see how Percy can be this impossible and this powerful and have this not be about him.

He thinks he knows exactly why Percy has traveled to the past. He doubts it was Persephone’s intention, because she knows better than to believe this is a plan that could work, but maybe it doesn’t have to. She’s clever enough to account for Percy’s choices.

Instead of saying any of that, he rests his hand on Percy’s shoulder. He’s gratified when he leans into it. He must not have been too terrible a father. “You are my child.”

“Dad,” he sighs.

Poseidon squeezes before letting go. “Alright. If something happens to you, I’ll look out for your strays.”

“They’re my friends,” he corrects, but Poseidon is already leaving.

Athena’s child is stirring. It would be just like her get to see something she shouldn’t and wreck his son’s plans, foolish as they may be.

[nothorses]

This is a genuine ask and I hope it doesn't come off as rude, obviously people can do whatever they want forever, but what is the logic behind a lesbian dating a transgender man? (By lesbian I mean someone who is only attracted to women), wouldn't that exclude binary trans men then since trans men are men? Or is it like "Trans men can be lesbians because they have vaginas" which just feels like bioessentialism with progressive wording...

I think the core misunderstanding here might be in your use of the word "logic". And there's a super high chance I'm extrapolating more intention than you put into that word choice, but hear me out.

On a super basic level, I think it's important to understand the reasons people use words like "lesbian" and "trans man" in the first place. In certain contexts, it makes sense to assign these terms more rigid definitions: a study would likely have a single, clear definition for those words in order to talk about some research results. An academic essay might need a shared definition if they're talking about broad trends and systemic issues.

But when we're talking about an individual's choice of identity labels- the words they use to describe their own personal experiences and relationship to gender and orientation- it doesn't make as much sense to apply someone else's definition of those words to that individual's use of them. They're trying to describe their own internal world to you; what matters in that conversation is how they understand the words they use, and why they chose them.

Don't get me wrong: common understandings of a word can play a part in that conversation! My understanding of what "gay trans man" means has been shaped almost entirely by other people. I chose those words for myself because of what I think most people will understand them to mean. In twenty years, it's possible that the common understandings of those words could change, and I might use different words to better communicate the same internal experience.

But I also might not. I might decide that my personal connection to those words is more important to me, or even that saying I'm a "gay trans man", as a person 20 years older than I am now, better reflects my internal experience as one that was shaped by the time I came to understand myself in. Maybe it'll be important to me to communicate that I understand myself as a "gay trans man" because of what those words meant 20 years ago. Maybe it'll be important to me to ask tomorrow's queer people to learn about my context, and my story, in order to really understand me.

And maybe, when I fill out a survey for a queer study in 20 years, I'll read the definitions they use for all of these identity labels and categorize myself accordingly, even though I don't personally identify with those definitions or words.

So yeah, I could talk about all the reasons someone might identify as a "lesbian" and still be attracted to trans men. I could talk about trans men who still call themselves "lesbians" because of what the words meant 20 or 40 years ago, or some unique definition they heard in one place and decided they liked enough to keep, even though nobody else has even heard it. I could talk about lesbians whose partners turn out to be trans men, and who still feel attracted to them afterwards; whose partners are okay with, or even feel validated by, their lesbian partners still calling themselves "lesbians". I could talk about nonbinary trans men, and bigender or multigender trans men, who are women and/or lesbians as much as they are trans men. I could talk about bi and pan lesbians, who may find themselves attracted to one trans man or a handful of men- trans and cis both- but otherwise mostly experience attraction to women.

But like, the point shouldn't be to find a good enough reason to justify it. The point isn't the "logic". The point is to understand that everyone's internal experience is fundamentally different from yours, and to be curious about each individual.

It's great that you asked this question in sincerity, but I'm the wrong person to be asking.

When someone says they're a lesbian who's attracted to trans men, they're trying to share something about themselves with you! That is a precious, unique thing you are being entrusted with. Get curious! Ask them what those words mean to them, and take the opportunity to get to know them better. Learn their story! Connect!

I can't tell you that person's story any more than you can guess it on your own, no matter how much you try to logic it out. That's exciting! The world is big, and it's full of unique stories and perspectives you couldn't even dream of inventing! That's so much better than a logic puzzle, don't you think?

[darantha]

How to Spot AI images (Hopefully)

So, I did see GailyNovelry's excellent post on this (Link here), but saw that there also were some confusion and they were using a environment image as their example, so I thought I'd do a breakdown that was more character centric.

The key thing with AI images is that the program does not know what it is making. And, arguably, they thrive on that we are currently conditioned to not really look at things for too long before we hit that engagement button and/or just scroll onwards to whatever next the algorithm feeds us.

It's hard to fight that urge, I know, but if you just pause and look, you'll soon start spotting things that just do not make sense, and I don't just mean that the pretty booby elven fighter is sporting seven fingers on one hand. Those are the obvious things. I'll try to cover the general sort of artefacts that tend to tip me off to the fact that a image is generated rather than actually hand-made by someone making informed design decisions as opposed to trust what amounts to RNG. I think this is important as there's those who do not tag their images as AI generated, and try to scam people with commissions.

And, as the saying goes... The devil is in the details.

To start with I picked this image from deviantuser CeiEllem. At first glance, it looks... very impressive. Sharp looking elf lady with killer hair. 10/10 wish I could rock that haircolour.

But, it is AI generated. Aside from the general tell that is this hyper rendered, near photorealistic style that AI images often have, there's a lot of details that tips it off to just not having been made by a human who actually made the decisions.

Since AI is just working off patterns and not actual decisions, things like hair is a immediate giveaway that you're looking at a AI image.

(Deviantart users: daralyth, DavidZarn and lunayokai)

In all these three images you can see just how hair whisps off into weird nonsense shapes or even meld into the background or clothing. Because, again, the AI doesn't know what its doing, just working with shapes. Similarly, background elements that just stop and start randomly is a dead giveaway, like the tail in the first image.

As I've said, details is the key to spotting these images, and another giveaway is the sheer density of details that is just noise.

This is from users Rigtorok7, and the details are so noisy, absolutely miniscule in scale, and hypersharp, yet have no actual design to them. Artists imply details all the time. We don't render out every single nook and crevice, and since we actually know what we want the viewer to look at, we'll pull back and simplify things so you don't want to look at the big chunk of very noisy hair ornament or necklace instead of the face of the character.

For comparison, this is how it looks when I, personally, indulge in doing 'overdetailing' of something (because I am forever weak for painting jewelry).

BUT I want to stress that the key here isn't that detailing equals AI generated. The key is the lack of design choices IN the details. There's a lot of artists out there, and someone painting out all those nooks and crannies in something doesn't mean they are a AI user. This painting by Leighton is super detailed but you see the intent with all the details. You have a focus with the people in the boat and secondary read of the figure in the door, where the details are a lot more implied and less sharp.

AI can't do that, because AI isn't making any decisions.

I couldn't find any good example once I went looking, but if you're into fantasy art: look for people just holding weird 'swords'.

AI is rapidly evolving, so who knows how much this'll help in 3 months, but for now, this is how I spot things.

But, in the end, the biggest giveaway that someone is using an AI generator is that they've filled up page after page on deviantart/artstation/wherever in the past like... six to nine months, and often swing between wildly different styles. If you're unsure, look up the source of a image. Another clue can be generic 'untitled' or just 'elf lady' sort of titles, since someone uploading 30 images a week isn't going to make unique titles for each image.

Also, commissioners. ... you should ALWAYS get a sketch and progress image from a artist that you hire. My art directors would have my head on a plate if I didn't send them a rough sketch and progress shot before finalising the image.

[ghosty-writes-23]

His Precious Doll Face. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Slight NSFW (Somnophilia) Mentions of Stalking & Kidnapping, Obsessive/Possessive Behaviour, Panty Stealing.

Pairing: GhostFace!Leon + BestFriend!FemaleReader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: You were Leon’s sweet and innocent childhood best friend that was too naïve to know what his true intentions were, he just wanted to keep you safe and protected.

Word Count: 1.7k

Ghosty's Notes: Hi, just wanted to say I didn’t actually think I would be posting this on time but even this time I surprised myself, I have re-written this about 3 times today and I am finally happy with this version I wrote, a huge thank you to everybody that votes on the poll, it was fun seeing everybody interact with it and see everybody’s choice, I do plan on publishing something for Valentines Day but I am not making any promises, anyway just wanted to say a huge thank you and I hope you enjoy the story.

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

18+ Content // MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+ Content.

Sitting at home relaxing on your couch watching Netflix, that you stole the password for from your best friend, Supernatural played in the background as you scrolled through your phone reading about the recent Ghostface murders that had been happening around the university campus.

Many people think its a student dressed up as the iconic horror slasher while others just think its just some crazy nutjob, but since the murders classes have been strictly online until the person reasonable has been found. After reading another new article claiming that the authorities should be doing more to catch this murder you exited the page and went to see your text messages. 

A couple where from Chris complaining that he wished you had accompanied him and Leon to the halloween party their frat was throwing, another message was from Claire showing the costumes the girls were wearing, Ada was going as a vampire, Claire was a witch and Jill went as fairy and chris photobombed the picture dressed as michael myers, the picture made you laugh as you sent a heart back, you didn’t feel like going to the party or any social gathering, just a comfy movie night in was all you wanted.

After reply to Claire you saw Leon messaged you, the pair of you had been best friends since you were little kids, being next door neighbours you practically grew up together, always staying at each other's houses for sleepovers, movie nights and even got accepted into the same university as each other, your parents were best friends and would do double date nights when you and Leon grew older, clicking on Leon’s message you read what it said. 

“Miss you.” was all the message said, it brought a small smile to your face. It wasn't a secret that you and Leon were a little bit closer than friends since you basically grew up together, but that is all you were just friends even though sometimes you wished it was something a little more. Shaking your head you looked at the time on your phone 1am it was time for you to go to bed.

Grabbing your TV remote you flicked off the TV before wrapping your blanket around yourself and got off the couch, as you did you heard a creak in the floor in your hallway, causing you to freeze slightly but then you thought it was just your cat coming inside. Shrugging off the feeling you headed up to your room, not seeing the shadowy figure that looked up at you from the bottom of the stairs.

Pushing open your bedroom door you went and flopped onto your bed exhaustion washing over your body as you don’t even bother to get under your blankets as you close your eyes. Just as your mind was about to drift off to dreamland you could have sworn you heard your bedroom door open but when you open your eyes there's nothing there causing you to think you have have started to go crazy, but soon there was a soft meow before your cat jumped up on the bed purring as it pushed its face against yours, causing you to smile as you pet its head. 

“You keep giving me a heart attack.” you said to the feline as you softly scold it, but it just purrs and curls up beside you before going to sleep, not having the energy to close your door you drifted off to sleep not seeing the shadowy figure was now in the corner of your bedroom. 

Looking at the sleeping woman, the shadowy figure felt his heart race as his breathing got slightly heavy, his blade in his pocket before he raised up and pulled the mask from his face revealing himself to be none other than your best friend Leon, there was a blood splatter on his face that he didn’t bother to clean up, he had to come and see you.

He knew once you found out what he had done you would never want to see him again, but he was doing all of this for you, to protect you those people who would have hurt you and he couldn’t have that, he loved you too much to see you ever get hurt, so he dealt with them so they would never hurt you in the first place.

Everything he did was to protect you from the cruelty of this world, he didn’t care if he had to get his hands dirty if it meant you kept that innocent and sweet smile. Walking over to your sleeping figure Leon kneeled down and took off one of his bloody gloves then gently rested his cold hand on your cheek causing your face to scrunch up at the sudden cold feeling but you didn't wake, his thumb slowly creased your cheek as he looked at you with a lovesick look.

You here his precious doll and he will always protect you and have your best interests at heart. Looking away from your face Leon noticed your oversized shirt had ridden up where it rested just under your breasts giving him a full view of your stomach and cute black panties you were wearing, they were his favourite because of how they looked on your body and that he had brought them for you.

Letting out a heavy breath, Leon tried resisting the urge to kiss your stomach, how your soft skin would feel under his lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh and leaving little marks showing everybody you belong to him, the thought sent a rush of heat through his body. Taking a deep breath one little kiss wouldn’t hurt so he moved to half way down your bed and leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your stomach, he promised himself to not leave any marks, unlike last time, but this time he was determined not to. 

Your skin felt so soft under his lips, almost as if kissing a marshmallow he could almost taste the sweet taste of your body wash from your shower earlier in the night. Leon knew of this because of the camera’s he had placed around your place, so he could always have an eye on you. Feeling you stir Leon frozen in place before you turned over a soft noise leaving your lips as you settled back into your bed. Leon knew you were a light sleeper so he had to be careful and quiet. 

His gaze went back up to your face, making sure you were fully asleep again before he let out a soft breath, this is what you do to him, you drive him crazy with the most simple and innocent actions just you sleeping peacefully was enough to make his body feel hot all over, to make him crave touching you in a way no best friend should and it was all your fault, but was he complaining, no you could never do any wrong in his eyes. 

Moving onto your bed Leon made sure his movements wouldn’t disturb your peaceful slumber, as his body hovered over your sleeping form his breath picked up, it fanned over your face causing you to stir again, holding his breath you settled down once again your breath evening out and your snores light and soft, Leon didn’t want to risk waking you up so as he slowly moved off the bed, he let his lips trail down your body as light as a feather, but as he got to the top of your cute black panties Leon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet smell, he could see a small wet patch forming causing the cheap cotton to stick to your pussy.

Leon could feel his lips go dry, licking his lips he looked like a predatory looking down at its prey, his eyes had darken and his breathing was now more uneven, reaching a finger up he ran his finger up the slick fabric being as gentle as possible, a soft noise leaving your throat as he pulled his finger back it was wet with your slick without thinking Leon placed his finger in his mouth causing a whine to leave his throat, he wanted more but it was too risky so he came up with a better plan, carefully and slowly Leon hooked his fingers into the top of your panties before gently pulling them down your smooth legs and off your feet. 

Once your panties where off Leon brought them to his noise and breathed in deeply, your scent filling his nose causing his eyes to roll back once again driving him wild, He didn’t want to take your innocence just yet he wanted you to be awake so you could feel all the pleasure he would bring to you, so for now this would have to do. Getting off the bed Leon placed the panties in his pocket before he walked over to you and gently kissed your head. 

“Goodnight Doll, i’ll see you again real soon.” Leon whispered before he grabbed his mask and placed it over his face before he carefully walked out of your bedroom and gently closed the door….

The Following Morning.

You woke feeling refreshed and well rested, your cat peacefully slept on your jacket that was placed on the chair that sat by your window, the early morning sun warming its fur, your stretched your arms over your head letting out a soft noise as your back made a clicking noise, running your fingers through your hair a feeling washed over you, as if you were missing something, reaching under your blankets you noticed your panties where missing, you were pretty sure you went to sleep with them on.

“Must of kicked them off somehow.” You thought as you shrugged your shoulders and pushed your blankets off your bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready for your morning Uni classes and shift working at your mom’s bakery, where you will see Leon and tell me all about the supernatural episodes you watched last night and how your cat gave you two heart attacks.

As you made your way to the bathroom, you didn’t notice the small camera watching your every move, Leon was behind it smiling as if he had hearts in his eyes. “Soon doll, you will be mine.” he said as he placed his bloody hand on the computer screen, as there was the sound of a muffled scream behind him as a person sat tied up to a chair with tape over their mouth.

----------

©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[caileeflavoured]

one heart broke, four hands bloody

tyler harrison x fem!reader, bjorn x fem!reader

© caileeflavoured 2024, do not repost, modify or translate!

synopsis: A secret revealed in a moment of danger does more than just save lives.

a/n: this took forever cause it's been forever since i last wrote but how could i pass up this opportunity of writing a love triangle kinda thing for one of my fave horror movie franchises (and two perfect hunks)? also, please appreciate that i rewatched the scene where kay is stuck like 100 times to get the dialogue accurate

warnings: ANGST, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion (your body your choice guys!), no one's chest got burst open and everyone survives, yay!, mentions of injuries

wc: 2.7k

MAIN MASTERLIST | ALIEN MASTERLIST

“Oh my God, oh my God, Andy, open the door!”You begged them standing on the other side of the door, feeling the presence of the alien behind you. “Open the door!”

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me, look at me!” Tyler tried to get you to focus on him from the other side. “It’s alright, we're gonna get you out.”

He turned to Andy, telling him repeatedly to open the door, as did Rain.

But she noticed first that Andy did not make a move to unlock the door. “What are you doing?”

Tyler kept his eyes on you. “Don’t look over there, look at me.”

You noticed something was going on. What, you had no idea. Fear was coursing through your veins as you sobbed. “Tyler, what’s wrong?”

“Andy,” Rain looked at her brother intently, her hands gripping his arms. “I need you to open that door right now, okay?”

“That’s what the creature is waiting for us to do,” he explained in an unusually calm voice.

“No! What the fuck, Andy, open the door!” Tyler shouted over to the synthetic, trying to somehow change his mind.

“If I opened that door, we would all die,” Andy concluded in an almost detached manner.

“Andy, please, please, I’m begging you,” Rain pleaded with him, her hands planted firmly on his shoulders. “She’s pregnant! Andy, come on!”

Tyler’s gaze immediately shot to the two siblings, then back to you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Fuck!!” He screamed, his fists banging against the glass of the door before he walked over to Andy, getting on his knees as he held onto the synthetic’s hand, crying as he begged him to open the door. 

“Please, Andy, please,” Tyler sobbed. “Don’t let her die, man, please.”

And in a moment of sheer miracle, he didn’t.

The door slid open and you fell into the hallway, right into Tyler’s arms. Everyone pulled you away from the open door as it shut at the last moment, helping you narrowly escape the alien. 

However, there wasn’t much time for you to recover despite the many injuries you have suffered from falling down stairs and platforms, crashing into cold, hart metal. All four of you sprinted along the curved hallway towards the next best hiding place, eventually finding a small, empty office. Andy locked the door behind him while Rain helped you to the desk, shoving the clutter off of it.

“Fucking hell, Andy!” Tyler shoved the synthetic. “How could you risk letting her—“ 

“Tyler,” Rain warned him, looking over her shoulder as she tended to your injuries. 

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair as he paced through the office, visibly trying to calm himself down. His eyes landed on you, and yours found his, all the physical pain forgotten. All the emotional pain coming back. 

The dam you’ve been building so carefully now broken beyond repair, and all the water flooding back in. Nausea was rushing through your body when his voice turned to you

“When were you gonna tell me?” He echoed from the furthest corner of the office.

“I do not think this is the time to be having such a conversation,” Andy instantly stepped in, blocking him from your view. “Calm down, Tyler. And let her calm down, too.”

But with your throat constricted, you had no way of saying anything. Not even to Rain as she sent you a compassionate look that said ‘I am so sorry.’

“How bad is it?” You asked her to deflect from the commotion on the other side of the office.

“Pretty tough bruising, but I don’t see any broken bones,” she noted. “You think you can make it back to the Corbelan on foot?”

You swallowed hard, letting out a deep, compressed breath in an attempt to calm your nerves just enough to remain level-headed. At least for the moment. You gave her a nod, which she acknowledged with a small smile.

“You got this,” Rain said, though you didn’t know what exactly she meant. Only felt that she probably wasn’t referring to your bruises. 

⋆𖤓⋆ 

Back on the Corbelan, the rest of the crew all let out relieved sighs at the sight of their unscathed friends. “Oh, thank God you’re safe,” Kay let out a breath she'd seemingly been holding ever since you left the space ship. “We should get you to med bay just to be sure you’re all okay.”

It wasn’t more than a good amount of bruises for all of you, and trauma for the rest of your lives, but everyone made it out alive, and was ready to leave, which was the only thing that mattered right now.

“We’ll take care of everything at home, and then we’re out of there for good,” Tyler announced, and Rain nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll set course for Jackson’s Star,” Navarro said and left for the cockpit. 

“Come on guys, let’s get buckled in for the ride,” Rain said, pushing everyone else out of the exam room. Everyone except for you and Tyler. She gave you one last apologetic look before mouthing the word ‘talk’ and walking off.

With everyone gone to the cockpit, leaving you and Tyler in med bay, the room suddenly felt a lot less comfortable than it already did by default.

His stare was ice-cold, his arms crossed in front of his chest, moving up and down with each deep breath that filled his lungs and calmed his nerves. You knew this look, you’ve seen it enough times.

“I just can’t do it anymore,” his British accent bounced off the walls of the trailer.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. A beat. No reaction. “Tyler!?”

The silence sucked all the oxygen from the small mobile home, leaving you nearly gasping for air as the first wave of nausea engulfed you. The final telling sign that this is where it ends.

“This!” He spat, arms spread as he gestured around the room. “This whole me and you thing!”

But words failed you, and the silence gave him courage.

"This hasn’t been going well for months, and you know it. We keep pretending that everything’s fine, that somehow everything will magically get better once we do this, once we do that, but it won’t. I can’t fix this. I can’t fix us. I’m just trying to survive here, trying to make it through another day without losing my mind. And your expectations, your— your… plans and hopes and dreams, they’re just… exhausting. This is exhausting.”

⋆𖤓⋆

His arms had been the ones to hold you tight all night long as you broke down once and for all. His thumbs had been the ones to wipe away your tears despite them already having formed into an endless stream of salty liquid. His ears had been the ones to listen to your heartbroken attempts at understanding how he could so suddenly throw it all away when he’d been the one to promise you over and over again that he would rather die than live a life without you.

And his mouth had been the one to shut you up and make you forget about everything. Even if just for the night.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said as you got up into a sitting position, pulling your shirt back down and crossing your arms in front of your stomach as if hiding it from him. As if doing that will save you from having to deal with the implications of a small human being growing inside of you.

“How am I looking at you?” Tyler retorted in a hissy tone. 

“You know exactly how you’re looking.”

He uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides in a dramatic gesture of annoyance as his eyes glanced around the room, then back at you.

“Well, care to have a conversation now?” He asked expectantly.

You huffed. “I don’t know why I should.”

“Uhm, well, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Maybe because you’re pregnant and didn’t tell me.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Tyler.”

“Oh, so you suddenly forgot how babies are made?”

“Haha, so funny,” you said with a stern look on your face, cocking your head to the side. “Patronising as ever.”

“So what?” He huffed in response. You were just gonna get rid of it? My child! Make that decision for both of us?”

“Who the hell said it’s yours, huh?” You snapped, the pain turning into anger and frustration.

“Yeah, cause there are plenty guys to choose from on the colony,” he scoffed, a pained grin on his lips.

That shut you up. You looked to the side as if avoiding his eyes would take the rising feeling of guilt away. As if it would undo what you did.

“You know what? You’ll never change,” he mumbled, turning around and storming off. 

On his way out of med bay, his shoulder bumped into that of his cousin. Annoyed at everything and everyone, he shoved him against the wall. “Get out of my fucking face, mate!”

You wanted to follow him, not giving him the satisfaction of blaming everything on you and then leaving you in silence. But upon rushing after him — or, attempting to — a sharp pain jolted through the side of your body, forcing you to stay behind after all.

“Fuck!” You hissed, then shouting after him before he disappeared into the hallway. “You’re one to talk, Tyler!”

It hadn’t been just one night.

It had become a habit. A nasty, disgraceful habit that left you ashamed of yourself, of what you’d become.

Of what he’d turned you into.

“We have to stop,” you said as you sat on the edge of the bed, turning your back to his laying frame on the other side. 

“What’cha mean?” He asked, his voice rough. 

“I mean exactly what I said,” you huffed. “This,” you gestured between him and yourself, “is not okay. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Come on, don’t— Let’s not have this conversation, alright? Don’t make this complicated when it doesn’t have to be,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“He’s your cousin!” You cried out. “And my ex! How is that not complicated?” 

You jumped up from the bed, hastily putting on your shorts and tee, ignoring your discarded underwear as you made for the door of his trailer, slipping on your shoes, and storming off without another word.

“You’ll come back anyways, luv. Just like you always do,” he shouted after you before you slammed the door to the trailer shut.

“You alright?” Bjorn held onto you before you stumbled. 

“Yes!” You hissed, aggressively pulling your arms back. “I’m fine. Just fine.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “God dammit, is everyone on this bloody ship on their period or what.”

“Just shut the fuck up, Bjorn!” You near-shouted. “Not everything’s a fucking joke.”

Despite the pain in your side, and the inability to storm off, you made for the door when, suddenly. his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back forcefully. You landed in his arms, chest to chest, face to face, your eyes pulling each other in like they did that one fateful night.

“Kinda tragic you always end up in my arms when he fucks up,” Bjorn mentioned. “Always me who has to pick up the pieces.”

“Let me go, Bjorn,” you said, your voice calm despite.

“Only if you tell me what that was about,” he motioned towards the hallway where Tyler had just disappeared.

“Nothing,” you replied shortly. 

He tsked, shaking his head. “Still the avoidant type.” His grip on your arms loosened, yet he moved closer to you, his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“If only you were as open as your legs were two weeks ago,” his whispery voice echoed through your entire body.

“Oh, fuck off!” You hissed, shoving him back which did not amount to much because a) he was too strong for you and b) the sharp pain shooting through your side held you back. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt you guys, but we wanna leave,” Kay timidly walked into med bay, letting the two of you know you needed to come to the cockpit.

⋆𖤓⋆

“Did something happen on the ship?” Kay asked, clearly having to force herself to bring up the topic that surely was on everyone’s mind at this moment. “I don’t know, there’s just this… this weird vibe ever since you guys came back.”

What followed was an even more awkward silence than before. Half of the crew didn’t know what to say, and the other half didn’t want to risk accidentally revealing one secret or the other. 

Tyler’s eyes landed on you, his gaze still dominated by that look of vexation and resentment. Bjorn looked from you to Tyler and back again, ultimately deciding to just stare at the ground. 

Like the rest of the crew.

“Great. Now you’re not even saying anything,” Kay tried again. “Which proves my point by the way.”

The oppressive silence was a clear admission of your guilt, and gave her trust to keep digging.

“Tyler? Care to explain what happened?” She turned to her brother. “Cause I know damn well something did happen on that ship.”

“Why don’t you start with the person who’s clearly the cause of it all,” he hissed, blaming you so aggressively you had trouble keeping your composure.

“Me?” You scoffed.

“Yeah, obviously,” he hissed.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, shaking your head. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”

“You stop acting all high and mighty, alright?” He raised his voice, so you did too.

“What happened to the guy who fell to his knees begging Andy to save my life in there, huh? Where did he go? Why did he do such a 180?”

“You know exactly why,” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“I know,” you retorted, “but I’m asking why you think that.”

He shrugged, and you kept shouting at each other, a constant stream of accusations and insults bouncing off the metal walls of the Corbelan.

“I’m my own person, I don’t need to fill you in about every single thing that happens in my life,” you fumed.

“Ah, yes, here we go again.”

“What?”

“Your whole ‘none of your business’ attitude,” he mocked. “Like no one’s involved in this, eh?”

“Yeah, because this has nothing to do with the mission!” You yelled, your tone gaining a desperate edge, just wanting him to drop it altogether.

“Course not,” he laughed. “Cause the mission’s not putting you in danger. Or the baby.”

But of course things always had dire consequences for you. The two lines looked up at you from beside the sink like the insides of a snake’s eye. Like they were a mirrored image of what you had become.

“You alright in there?” Rain’s voice sounded from outside the bathroom. 

“Uhh… Yeah, yeah, all good,” you reassured, and before she could say anything else, let alone do something, you stormed out of the room, bumping right into her.

“Oof— You had me scared there for a second,” she admitted with a tense chuckle, but you immediately played it down.

“You know how it is… Girl stuff. Such pain in the ass.”

A set of blue eyes immediately shot up from beside you. You could feel his stare on you, switching from your face to your stomach, burning into your skin.

“Tyler,” Rain said, her voice with an edge of disappointment. 

“What?” He exclaimed, gesturing with his arms held out in front of his body and his shoulders raised.

“Yeah, really not cool, mate,” Bjorn agreed. 

The fact that even Bjorn started defending you when he’d always been the shit stirrer of the group spoke volumes. And did not go unnoticed by Tyler.

“You,” he pointed at his cousin. “Don’t even start. None of your goddamn business!”

“Oh, really?” He accepted the challenge. “‘Cause you made it my business, mate.”

“Bjorn, don’t,” you warned, shooting him an alarming glare.

“No, no, no, he needs to hear this,” Bjorn stopped you. “You know what your girl did the night you dumped her like some piece of rubbish? You wanna know?”

“Bjorn!” You snapped, but he wouldn’t listen.

“You wanna know whose name she screamed that night?”

But Bjorn didn’t have to say more when Tyler already lunged at him.