#i started writing with no idea for a plot

[leth-writes]

Some thoughts about Tim and the Batfam

SUMMARY: just thinking about Tim and the batfam

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans. HEAVY discussion of drugging and taking away of autonomy.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Tim is a really interesting person, in general. I’m just obsessed with the idea of him drugging a darling, just keeping them all pliant and sleepy and curled up in his bed, even if he’s platonic. 

He spends a lot of time just…watching you, whether that be through cameras or in real life.

You never find the cameras, even though you know they’re there. If you asked him, he wouldn’t deny it. Why would he? There’s nothing you could do about it, and he honestly doesn’t trust your opinions on your own safety. Tim views you as quite innocent and naive, and that’s part of why he spends so much time building a little cocoon in the bed for you to curl up in, your soft snuffles just barely moving the light sheet he’s laid around you.

Just. UGH. I think at first he’d drug your food.

But you start noticing, and you start avoiding food. This sets the rest of the batfam off; is TIm not taking care of you properly?!

(They sometimes talk about you like a pet. It’s weird. You’ve learned not to mention it.)

In response, you’re tied down with soft satin straps and drugged out of your mind through an IV. You’re on an all-liquid diet, practically seeing stars. Tim doesn’t need you conscious or coherent, just safe from harm, after all.

I could even see him putting you in a temporary coma, at least until the heat from your kidnapping dies down. 

I can’t get  over the idea of you just. Trusting him so much, so naively, and he’s just. Fucking drugging your hot chocolate to get you to the manor, he knows if he doesn’t then Jason will and Jason won’t be as gentle about it.

UGH just imagine him doing those exercises every day with you to keep your muscles from atrophying AGHHHH

You wake up afterwards, it’s dark and your mouth is dry. You try to sit up- and you can’t. You’re too weak, too tired from the still-present drugs coursing through your veins. It’s then you see a bright flash, illuminating the corner and it’s FUCKING TIM JUST STANDING THERE

He uses his best camera, just dedicates it to pictures of you, creates an album.

He shows it to everyone else, they’re all cooing and aweing and you’re just sitting there like HELLO PLEASE LET ME LEAVE 🙁

Eventually he might even give you a bit of a choice. You can eat the food, or you can get an injection. When you take the injection you lose an entire day of time, and who knows what the FUCK happened? (nothing, Tim just. Spent most of the day working, occasionally taking the time to brush a hand over your face, just gently tracing your features.)

The others start to get annoyed Tim’s hogging you, and he gets you a wheelchair. You’re too weak, too drugged to be able to move yourself around, and he somehow manages to put some sort of thing on the wheels that lock if you try to go out the door. Like the fucking Grocery Carts.

He starts wheeling you around, letting you see the garden and the birds and Batcow. You spend a lot of time in the library with Alfred the cat curled in your lap, purring as you try to follow the plot of a simple book, your eyes too blurry to see the words properly.

Jason’ll read to you, he likes the bonding time. Plus, your eyes can’t really focus on anyone’s face too long, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being scared by the scars ripped into his skin by his death.

Cass’ll roll you into her studio, prop you against the wall, and just do a stunning routine. Unfortunately you can’t see it very well, and you clap really slowly because your hands feel like they’re filled with lead. She appreciates the effort.

Dick eventually takes over your stretches, though he does sometimes have to fight Bruce for the right. Both love helping you gently stretch out your limbs, admiring the shaking that only comes from intense effort. You’re cute, like a newborn lamb.

It’s infuriating watching Dick do all these complicated moves, while you can barely lift your head, but oh well, they’re so happy you’re here!!

Damian treats you like a younger sibling, even though you’re significantly older than him. He adores having this position of power over you, and abuses it to spend most of his time with you just. Showing you his animals. Titus is practically your emotional support dog at this point, and he trains Ace to be your guard dog.

Bruce loves having you curled up in the office, snoring slightly on the couch, as he slowly wades his way through work. He’ll throw a blanket over you, even as you whimper and shy away from the food he’s hand-feeding you. You aren’t allowed to feed yourself anymore, hell you can barely lift your hand to your mouth.

You eventually get used to spending all your time just. Hanging around, sleeping and letting everyone else do everything for you.

[maysileeewrites]

distracted

Robb Stark x fem! Reader || 18+, MDNI! 

Synopsis: „How am I supposed to sit here, planning a war, when you’re over there, looking like that?“ 

c.w.: smut!! (seriously, this is really just smut with barely any plot) - piv, unprotected sex, hints of praise kink, breeding kink (never thought I’d ever tag one of my fics like that, but here we are, the things Robb Stark gets me to write …); established relationship, wife!reader 

w.c.: 1.7k || masterlist

AN: more plot-heavier Robb fics are coming soon, but I just had to write this purely self-indulgent smut fic first ... Hope you enjoy!

Usually, you’d describe yourself as a fairly patient person. 

Usually. 

However, there are certain situations in which you tend to be the complete opposite of patient - like tonight, for example. 

In your defense, you’ve been waiting for Robb to join you in bed for quite some time now. And you know that he’s not keeping you waiting to spite you - by the seven, you know that he’s got a war to plan, and thinking about that gets you frustrated even more with your own impatience tonight -, you know what’s keeping him so preoccupied, know how important that is, but somehow, you can’t help it.

Not when Robb is right there, sitting at the table in your tent, several maps spread out on the table around him, tousled curls falling into his face, wearing nothing but a thin robe that’s already started to slip off his shoulders, revealing the planes of his broad, muscular chest. 

You can’t help the soft sigh, full of yearning that escapes you then - finally earning you Robb’s attention. 

When he looks over at you, his eyes visibly widen. Suddenly, you feel your cheeks burning up and fight the urge to grab the thick fur covers lying next to you to cover up your naked body. 

You’ve been lying here in bed, waiting, for what feels like an eternity now, and with the thick furs covering you and the warm fire crackling a few feet away from you, you’d started feeling incredibly hot under the thick covers, so you’d thrown them aside. Purely for the sake of not feeling like you’re being roasted alive anymore, of course. 

Though you can’t deny that Robb’s reaction to seeing you like this is even better than the sensation of relief that washed over you after you’d thrown the blankets aside. 

He bites down on his lips, and you can see him clenching his fists. It’s too bad that the table is blocking the lower half of his body from your view - 

Just then, Robb groans, the sound low and intense. 

Suddenly, you feel even hotter than when you’d still been under the covers. 

Robb shakes his head at you, his eyes hungrily taking in your naked form. „How am I supposed to sit here, planning a war, when you’re over there, looking like that?“ 

At Robb’s words, you bite down hard on your lip, feeling your cheeks burn up. You can’t help it. 

Sometimes, when you’re together with Robb, you still feel like a maiden, young and innocent, as if you and Robb haven’t been married for some time now. 

As if he didn’t already touch you in ways that have desire pooling between your legs, just thinking about them. 

As if he didn’t already say things to you that turned your entire body to jelly in his arms. 

Thinking about that night a few days ago, when he was moving inside you, one arm slung across your stomach, pressing your back to his broad chest, while he took you from behind, his other hand drawing teasing circles over your clit, causes an all too-familiar, bittersweet ache to settle between your legs. Especially when you recall the words he whispered into your ear right after you’d reached your peak. 

That’s it, don’t hold back. Come for me. Going to fill you up- 

„What, already speechless?“ 

Robb’s teasing words draw you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you see how his eyes have darkened with desire. He’s still sitting at the table, still clenching his fists, and suddenly, an idea enters your lust-filled mind. 

Oh, you’ll show him speechless. 

Smirking, you get up from your bed and slowly walk over towards Robb, taking your sweet time with every step you take, enjoying the way Robb seems completely transfixed by you. 

You come to stand in front of him, just looking at him for a moment - his pupils have widened and his breathing has grown quite shallow -, before reaching out towards him and teasingly running a hand across his bare chest. 

Robb’s breath actually hitches. 

You smirk. „What, speechless already?“, you taunt, throwing his earlier words back at you. 

Robb’s eyes widen, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Still smirking, you sit down on his lap, laying your free hand on Robb’s shoulder to steady yourself. 

Robb groans and you have to close your eyes for a moment. Not just because you love eliciting these kinds of sounds from Robb, but also because the friction is almost too much to bear for you as well. There’s nothing more than Robb’s thin robe between your aching core and Robb’s stiff, erect member and if you grind yourself against Robb-

Just then, Robb’s hands settle on your waist, mercilessly keeping you in place. You want to protest, you really do, but when you feel Robb’s lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck, forming any coherent thought suddenly feels impossible. 

Robb seems to sense this as well, because he chuckles quietly, before his lips start trailing lower, down from your neck to your collarbone, to your breasts. 

Your breath hitches, and even though you can’t see it, you’re pretty sure that there’s a triumphant spark in Robb’s eyes right now. He loves to tease you. In fact, you think that he enjoys it just a little too much. 

Not that you particularly mind, though. How could you, when Robb’s teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your bosom feels so heavenly? His hands are still keeping you in place, but his grip on you has loosened. 

When you try to shift forward this time, there’s no protesting from Robb. Instead, the only reaction he shows is a low, deep groan, before his lips close around one of your nipples. 

A sigh escapes you, morphing into a groan, when Robb starts flicking his tongue over your nipple, while suddenly tightening his grip on you again, only this time it’s to re-position you in his lap. Now, he has you even closer to him and when you feel his stiff cock at your entrance, a breathless, desperate whine escapes you. 

„Robb“, you breathe out, one of your hands moving up from his shoulders to tangle in his auburn curls, tugging at them the way you know always drives him crazy. 

Finally, he looks up at you. 

And by the seven, the image of him with his head between your breasts, his lips still wrapped around one of your nipples, looking up at you with a deep, dark yearning in his eyes is enough to get you clenching around nothing. 

„Robb, please“, you whine, trying to desperately to grind yourself against him, but his grip on your waist has tightened once again. 

Another whine escapes you and you bite down hard on your lips. Somehow, you feel as if you could almost cry from frustration. You need Robb, and you need him now. 

So, you tell him. „Robb, I need you, please-“

The rest of your words are swallowed by the hungry, bruising kiss Robb gives you. You’re so dizzy, so distracted, that you almost don’t notice Robb’s hands moving to lift you up - until you feel him lowering you down onto his cock. 

A surprised hiss escapes you, and your grip on Robb’s curls tightens at the sudden contact. 

Robb, however doesn’t give you any time to adjust to him like he usually does - usually, he’d also make sure to prepare you for him with his fingers or preferably his tongue, but tonight, the same hungry, desperate frenzy you’ve been feeling seems to have taken over him as well -, he slams right up into you, filling you up completely. 

Pain and pleasure mix together, and you cry out. Your grip on Robb’s shoulder is so desperate that you’re convinced your fingernails are going to leave marks, but right now, you couldn’t care less. 

Not with Robb mercilessly bucking his hips up again, one hand still on your waist, keeping you in place, the other tangled in between your hair. 

„Gods, I love it when you’re so desperate“, Robb whispers, looking right at you as he enters you again in a merciless, powerful thrust. 

You whine again, meeting Robb’s gaze. Coming up with any kind of coherent sentence in reply seems impossible, and so all you can do is look at Robb and take his powerful thrusts inside you. 

„You’re so beautiful like this“, Robb continues, just as his hand suddenly leaves your hair, trailing down from your neck to your breast and over your stomach until his fingers start to draw teasing circles over your clit. 

„Robb.“ 

„Looking all fucked out and cock-drunk, with that hazy look in your eyes and your lips swollen - makes me want to fill you right up, because you’d look even more beautiful with your belly swollen with my child-“

And somehow, that does it. You come - harder than you’ve ever come before. 

Crying out your husband’s name, you come, shaking, burying your head in the crook of Robb’s neck as white-hot waves of pleasure wash over you and you clench around him. 

Robb thrusts into you once, twice and once again, the friction nearly too much for your aching, sensitive core, before he comes as well, spilling his hot seed inside you. 

„Robb“, is all you can manage to whisper. 

You’re still shaking, and when Robb closes his arms around you, drawing you into his chest, you nearly collapse onto him. 

For a moment, you stay like that, with you in his arms and him still inside you. Robb’s hands draw gentle patterns on your skin and he starts to whisper sweet nothing into your ear, a stark contrast to the rough, dominant husband you’d witnessed just moments before. 

Eventually, you find the strength to lift your head from his shoulder again. Robb slips out of you, but his hand immediately moves between your legs again. 

„Robb, please, it’s too much“, you whimper, completely overwhelmed as he pushes his fingers inside of you. 

„Sh, love“, Robb whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. „I’m just making sure that we’re not wasting a single drop.“ 

When your eyes meet his again, he’s smirking.

„Who’s speechless now, love?“ 

Robb tag list: @justmymindandstuff @rheanyraaaa @prettydeeryess @inkandarsenic @strrvnge

[simpingforheros]

I need more of the Jason Todd wife’s story cause you ATEEEE

Jason Broke What??

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Dick played stupid games and won stupid prizes, but at least he got to see his sister in law’s ass.

Warning: 18+, NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Not Proofread . Female Pronouns and Anatomy, Dirty talk, Degeragtion/Praise, Violence Against Richard Grayson, Smut, Fluff, Comedy, P in V, Illusions to Anal (fem receiving), Voyeurism, Oral (p and a) (fem receiving), Fingering (fem receiving), Implied Heavy Petting, Nonconsensual Peeping Tom, Masturbation, and plot twist.

A/N: Part 3 to Jason’s Girl?? And Jason’s Wife?! . And again, I'm sorry to keep harassing you Pookie, @jjenthusee, but I feel its only right that you be tagged in the conclusion of this trilogy because you started all of this.

A/N: IM BACK, BABES! You miss me? I miss you all. Thanks for the thoughts and prayers during my break to take care of my family. Also if this fic seems rough, I was writing this in my car during break. Also, I know one of my big no-nos is accepting requests for full fanfics but I had an idea and if the masses want to see more of Dick's misery then I wanna feed yall.

*******************************************************

The holidays were everyone’s favorite time of the year. Especially Bruce and Alfred’s. Surprisingly, Bruce developed a love for them later in his adult life due to his years of constantly having to play Santa to his growing hoard of sidekicks. Now with a manor full of teens and children from multiple different backgrounds and cultures, Alfred proposes a family trip to their private ski resort.

Everything was going smoothly. Tim, Bernard, and Stephane were enjoying ice skating along the frozen lake while Duke, Cass, and Damian were skiing down large hills and mountains trying to out do the other. Bruce and Selina were of course mostly confined to their bedroom, only venturing out for a dinner date or to spend time with the family, while Alfred enjoyed taking a break from everyone doing whatever he delighted himself in doing.

Everyone was happy..

Except for Dick. This year was one of the worst for him. Kori started officially dating Roy Harper after some mission she was involved in with the Outlaws and Barbra didn’t want to see him anymore. And to make matters worse, Jason and his wife of a year were all over each other.

Dick couldn’t even do anything without his brother being there, unintentionally rubbing his healthy love life in his face.

Wanted to go skiing? Jason was already there. His large hands were sturdy on (Y/N)'s back as he was showing her as she was balancing on a snowboard. Her curves were highlighted in the snow by her red snowsuit that just so happened to match Jason's black and red suit. Her eyes light up through her snow goggles as she successfully maneuvers around the terrain with Jason's loud praises.

Wanted to go ice skating? The Todds were already there stumbling over each other as Jason's normally composed stance wavers in his ice skates as his blushing wife giggles and helps him slowly adjust to the new feeling of unease. For a viglieante, he certainly didn't skate like one. Dick wasn't exactly fond of witnessing his younger brother purposefully comp a feel of (Y/N)'s perky ass as he 'stumbles' into her.

Even relaxing in the main room of the huge million dollar cabin was impossible as the moment the moon shines bright in the sky or the sun barely kisses their existence, Jason and (Y/N) were so domestically in tune with the room. It was almost like witnessing a Hallmark movie.

The couple would be in the kitchen with Jason preparing a simple soup with her propped up on the counter, ready to taste the soup when he offered her the wooden spoon. A mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up into his own as she hums at the taste. Dick nearly cringes when he witnesses Jason's sideways smirk as he flexes his hand on her hip.

Sometimes the couple would be sitting on the sofa near the fire. A thick wool blanket wrapped around them as they relaxed into each other. Dick tries not to acknowledge them. Not to recognize the softness of Jason's features as he lazily enjoys his wife's nails lightly scratching his scalp. Not to recognize her plump lips curving deeper as the blanket shifts slightly and Jason's hand caresses her thigh higher than he should. It was especially bad when they would whisper into each other's ears before the pair would hurrily go to their room in a whisper of an excuse of faux exhaustion before giggling as they lock themselves away.

Thankfully, they did those sinful acts of love away from Dick at least. .. Or so he thought.... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a skiing accident that started the whole ordeal.

The Bat family had been skiing down the steepest hill they could find out of Stephanie and Damian's petty competition that everyone decided to get involved in. The only members that weren't there were Alfred, who demanded that none of the family ever mention putting him in skiis anywhere near his presence, and the Todds.

Much to Dick's relief, (Y/N) was feeling a bit nauseous and decided to stay behind along with the concerned Red Hood.

Unfortunately, the friendly competition took a turn when Dick accidentally sleds over a rock which caused him to fly off his skis and tumble down the hill. The fiery ache in his arm gave the acrobat a headache as he desperately hoped he didn't break his arm in a lame skiing accident.

"Son of a bitch!" He curses as Bruce skies down to check on him.

"Are you alright?" His adoptive father asks as he carefully helps him up. Dick's eye watering as he jerks his injured arm away from Bruce as he accidentally brushes against it.

Bruce notices the jerk and immediately takes the arm in a gentle grasp as he clinically flexes and prodes at the appendage. Dick nearly cursing as Selina and Damian come down to check on him.

"I don't think its anything too serious," Bruce says as he pulls away. "At worst, you probably have a hairline fracture in it. Alfred would have to check it out just to make sure."

Selina, acting as the pseudo- stepmother figure she was, gently places a hand on Dick's shoulder as she ask, "Do you need me to drop you off at the cabin?"

The eldest son shakes his head before grumbling, "I can make it back on my own. I could use some alone time anyway."

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Unfortunately, Dick doesn't find Alfred when he comes back to the cabin after walking back in the cold snow. Only a note reading,

'I've gone to an event at the main resort tonight. Please contact me through the main resort hotline and I promise to get back to you- Alfred'

"Fucking great..." Dick groans as he decides to just head to bed. His body aches from the trauma of the fall as he drags his feet up the large staircase and up to the main hallway towards the suites bedrooms. It wasn't until a faint but familiar sound that caused the fatigue in him to melt.

The familiar sound of breathlessness that he had only heard one angel sing before. (Y/N)...

As he discreetly walked down the hallway, the melody of whines and moans filled his ears along with the familiar sounds of slurping and squelching.

The cracked door to Pandora's Box calling to him as he hears the whimpers of, "Fuck, baby...."

"Ah not there! Its so embarrassing...."

"Jason, more..."

Dick peers into the door to see something that he wished he could snap a picture of and keep forever just like he did those videos.

Sprawled out on the bed was her in all of her glory. Her skin glowing in perspiration and pleasure as she lays with her cheek pressed against the mattress with her round globes of flesh in the air. Her eyes clouded with tears and desperation as she looks over her shoulder to her lover as her glossy lips whimper.

Jason was only in his tight black boxers as his hand squished the soft flesh of her cheek to the side. His eyes staring back into hers with the same pathetic lust and dominance that he always had as he eats her out from behind. His nose appearing and disappearing in the crack as his tongue plays a cruel game of tag.

His slow, lugritive strokes down to her puffy clit interchange with the rough darting over her pulsing hole before sofly licking up to her puckered hole. His fingers never leaving her neglected as he would hold her pussy open before lazily playing with her clit in between licks.

"Jason, quit being a tease..." She whines before yelping as he roughly pinches her clit. His mouth pulling away from her as she whines.

He begins to slowly tease her folds as he scolds her softly, "I didn't ask for you to be ungrateful."

Her hips jittering to regain some friction before he smacks her ass as he continues. Her whimpers of pain causing Dick's own cock to jump in his pants as he tries to ignore his brother as he kept his eyes on (Y/N). His hand slowly releasing his cock from his ski pants as he continues to watch the scene before him.

"Here I am trying to take care of you after you've been sick all day and all I get in return is some sass." Jason scolds cruelly before he inserts two fingers roughly into her cunt. Her cheeks burning hot under her tear stained skin as her body welcomes him with a sicking squelch as she mumbles.

"I-i'm sorry baby..."

Jason's gaze softens before a mocking look of sympathy appears on his face as he begins to thrust his fingers into her. The slight curve of his hand memorizing her body as he instantly found her G-Spot as she cries in pleasure.

"It's okay, Ma." He coos as he presses open kisses to her shoulders and back as he begins to brutally pound her cunt with his fingers. Her eyes jumping back into her skull as he continues to assault her senses as he says.

"You can't help it that you are sick as a dog in the mornings and then a raging whore at night...Afterall," Jay whispers as his mouth slowly decends back down her body. "Little bit isn't making this easy for you, is she?"

She desperately nods as she tries to roll her hips back to meet his hand as he chuckles at her. "It's alright. I'll take care of you, Baby, but I want you to take care of me too. We are family..."

His mouth instantly attacks her puckered asshole just as she seizes up and orgasms as her eyes roll back into her skull. Her desperate sobs turn into overstimulated whimpers as Jason doesn't let up on her abused holes.

It wasn't until she was still that he raised up and pulled his boxers down. His smirk grew to a shit-eating grin as despite her tired face, she wiggled her hips, ready for him to take her.

"Ass or Cunt?"Jason asks as he jerks his bright angry cock.

Her lips curl in a lazy grin as she says, "Both."

"That's my girl." He says as he lines his tip up with her pussy as he slowly pushes in.

Her whimper along with his groan of relief as his hips slowly meet hers. His upper body bends down to meet her lips in a deep kiss as his hips meet her ass. His hand slides around the plushness of her hip to rest on her lower stomach as he whispers to her mouth.

"Maybe it's not too late to give Little Bit a sibling."

She giggles before she presses another peck to his lips before he rises back up to place his foot adjacent to her knee. Not giving her any more time to adjust, his hips begin to slowly thrust into her quivering body as his hand keeps a tight grip on her asscheek, spreading her open. His cerulean eyes trained on the creamy ring that was slowly developing on the base of his thick cock as he disappears deep inside her.

"Jason..." (Y/N) whimpers as his pace begins to increase.

"God, how is she still so tight?" He groans as his hips begin to snap into hers, his eyes wide as he watches her ass ripple at the growing intensity of his thrusts.

Dick's own hand tries to match the pace as he tries to imagine he was the one fucking her instead of Jason. That he wasn't the one pathetically fucking his fist outside of his brother's room with his other arm possibly fractured.

Her face contorting in pure ecstasy as her manicured nails tear into the comforter. Her wedding rings shining in the low light of the room as Jason's own wedding band disappears in her hair. His grip looks unforgiving as he forces her head deeper into the mattress. His free hand stretching as his thumb circles her ass with light pressure as she cries into the plush bedding.

"Fuck you look so pretty." Jason moans as he slowly fucks his thumb centimeter by centimeter into her ass as gently as he could as his hips abuse her cunt. "I wonder how much prettier you would look with my cum dripping out of his cute little ass and pussy. You think everyone will notice you limping?"

He chuckles as he manages to fill her to the first knuckle as he stops his pace to grind into her, letting the feeling of him invading both of her hole and filling her sink in.

Her hips trembling as she tries to create more friction as her sobful begging wasn't even intelligible as he kept her head down. From the impossibly growing slick on his thighs, it was obvious that her orgasm was coming again and soon as Jason's free hand releases her hair and instead pulls her up flushed against his chest.

Her wanton cries filling the room as she was now exposed for the first time to the room. Her bare breast were littered in dark hickies as Jason's hand comes to paw at her tits. Her arms reaching back as one tangles at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his ass, encouraging him to continue.

"Please..." She begs as trembles in his hold. "Please fuck me...fuck all my holes please. I'm yours to do as you please..."

Jason smiles softly before kissing her cheek. "Good girl...that's my good, sweet little wife..."

His praises never end as his hips begin to snap into her at a brutal pace. Both of their voices became higher in pitch as they began to get lost in each other.

"That's it. Take it. Take it all. It's all for you and you only."

"You're doing so good. No one has such a soft, loving heart and cunt like yours..."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too" She manages to reply back before it hits her.

It was then that she screamed out Jason's name as her coil snapped inside her. Her eyes roll back again as her walls squeeze his cock as he follows her with a rough cry.

Dick quickly covers his mouth as his own orgasm hits him after he managed to not make a mess and not be discovered so far.

The base of Jason's cock is a mess as their releases flow down and drip before the pair calms down with a soft kiss on each other's lips. His cock pulls out of her as he massages her lower stomach gently as he pulls away. His eyes shone in pure admiration and concern.

"You okay?" Jason asks softly as he cups her face.

Her tired eyes staring at his lovingly as she whispers. "Yea...Can I have some water before we go again?"

They both smirk at eachother before Jason pecks her lips as he mumbles. "You're insatiable."

He stands up from the bed as she collapses into the pillow. He pulls on his boxers and heads to the door before Dick even recognizes out of his lust full daze. He didn't have time to react as Jason swings open the door to the pathetic sight before him.

Dick 'Motherfucking' Grayson was peeping into his brother's room. Watching his brother making love to his wife. And jerking off to it.

Before Dick could explain, Jason's face twists in anger as his cold glare indicating that this maybe Nightwing's last day on Earth.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

And like that Dick tries to run away back down the large stair case as Jason chases him to beat his ass. Karma is an ugly bitch because just as the front door was opening, Dick violently twists away from Jason's grasps so hard that he tumbles down the stairs with a large crack and several gasps indicating the end of the vacation.

And that was the story of how Jason broke Dick's arm and little Richard after he caught him being a weirdo.

+++++++++++++

A/N: I swear I'm not a Dick Grayson hater, but I think its kind of tradition now to always rip on him in this miniseries. I hope y'all enjoyed it and please comment what you liked and didn't like about this. I swear I'll actually start cleaning out my drafts soon.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE OR CONSENT TO MY POSTS OR WORKS BEING PUBLISHED, PLAGERIZED, STOLEN, REBLOGGED, OR COPIED ONTO ANY OTHER WEBSITE OR BLOG.

[teecupangel]

(i sent my prev ask unfinished ignore it pls)

i was wondering because i have seen you talk about multiple desmond ships… any daniel cross/desmond headcanons or ideas?

I swore I’ve gotten an ask about Daniel x Desmond but I can’t find it.

For all I know, I could have just imagined it hahahaha

So let’s go full on regression setup XD

Cross wakes up back in Abstergo New York Branch. According to the calendar app in his ‘old’ phone, he had an appointment with Warren Vidic in 10 minutes.

Now that he thought about it…

He was standing in the hallway that would lead to meeting room that had been ‘set’ as the place in his calendar app’s meeting reminder.

He must have been walking towards it when he stopped to… what?

Have a vision of the future?

Or to have his conscious be taken over by his future dead self?

Either way, Daniel already knew what the meeting was about.

He would be tasked to lead the team sent to kidnap a Desmond Miles and transfer him to the research facility in Rome.

.

It was supposed to be an easy snatch and grab.

Desmond Miles was weak.

Too tired from working a double shift.

Too used to a never-changing daily life.

That was what happened in the previous timeline.

Desmond tried to put up a fight.

He even managed to hit one of the men on the neck hard enough that the man might not be able to speak anytime soon.

But he was outnumbered, rusty and tired.

There was no way for him to escape.

That was what was supposed to happen.

And now…

Daniel looked at the carnage around the supposed tired overworked underpaid runaway Assassin.

Every man who tried to charge him were on the ground, dead from precise single strikes that aimed at their neck.

And Desmond Miles…

Not a single drop of blood even touched him.

The only thing bloodied was the simple knife he had. A lean sharp knife that would have probably been used slicing garnishes for drinks.

A knife he didn’t have in the previous timeline.

Desmond flicked his wrist, cleaning off the knife’s blade effortlessly.

Daniel’s lips curved into a manic grin as Desmond faced him.

Instead of confusion and fear…

Desmond looked at him with a blank expression.

Befitting a Master Assassin.

“You came back too, didn’t you?” Daniel asked as he unholstered his gun.

He could fire off a shot or two before Desmond reached him.

He’d hit him.

He has never felt clearer than he did right now.

Nikolai has been silent this entire time.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t the old Daniel Cross.

Or maybe…

It was because Desmond Miles loves more beautiful than ever.

The determination to kill Daniel clear in his eyes.

[thoughtsforsoob]

txt with a bookworm gf 🤍

note: I’ve been on my bookworm shit lately so I thought I would share some ideas (I feel like I did this already so please let me know if I did!) please enjoy

yeonjun

He likes when you read to him. No, he doesn’t care if it’s a memoir, a biography, or a history textbook. He just likes to hear your voice and listen to the story the book is telling. Your voice calms him and he is genuinely interested in what the book is saying. It’s your little bonding time. He sits silently next to you and leans his head on your shoulder as you read out loud.

soobin

He has a little book like with you. You both pick small books to read together and then discuss it. You and him take turns and switch off every other book (he picks and then you pick). When it’s his turn to pick, he almost always picks a manga! When you pick a novel, he has to listen to the audiobook. It helps him focus.

beomgyu

At first, he wasn’t really a big fan of reading for fun. He found it cute that you did it but would playfully call you a nerd. You never minded it. Overtime, he would start to casually ask you about the books you were reading in conversation. Over dinner, he’d ask question about the plot or your thoughts on the book. Even if he doesn’t read the books, he finds himself interested in them.

taehyun

He likes to read but you two have different interests. So, in order to expose each other to new things, you trade books, read them, and update each other on what you think. He loves when you write in the margins of his books or when you leave sticky notes with your thoughts. Whenever he goes back to reread the book, a little piece of you is there and it makes him smile.

huening kai

not super interested in books and all that but would love to hear you yap about them. he would much rather flip through a manga. so, his solution to this is reading his manga next to you while you read your book. if you have big picture encyclopedias of animals or something, he’s also looking at them, showing you his favorite animals.

note: true story for the kai one. I have a giant ocean animal encyclopedia book that I loved looking through as a kid :) it made me so happy! I’ll never get rid of that book.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

Mildly warm take, Tommy does NOT owe his entire career to Dream

Because, YES the dream smp help propel his career as a content creator, but it does not constitute to everything you've done to make himself and his brand better

Did dream write all the jokes? The vlogs? The books? The MCC wins? The friendship formed before and after? The smp's to follow later? Origins? The comedy? Twitch con?

Because if you say That Dream did all of that for Tommy then I'm going to assume Dream Is Crawling into his skin and piloting his body

Saying dream owns Tommy's as well as other people's careers, is like saying that if I were to bake a cake it wouldn't be my cake it would be the person who made the ingredients. I still baked the cake, put the ingredients together, bought them, got the recipe and just because I didn't grow the wheat or milk the cow it doesn't make it not my cake.

The smp did objectively help his career there is no fault in that and even Tommy acknowledges it, but you can't attribute every single thing that he does now to Dream.

And you can also argue that dream was a bad person, because he was. Regardless of allegations and other people's experiences, dream intentionally seeked out a 14 year old streamer, made him sign a legal contract, took every single bit of credit, got into fights with him on a regular basis, a made him feel so bad you will slamming his head against the desk.

That's not normal. None of that's normal.

And then in an alternative perspective dream didn't do us much for the smp as he claims. The only things he did was bring the content creators together, start the server, and play as his own character.

I do not get me wrong there is credit in that and he did do those things that allow the server to operate, but those with the only things he did.

Wilbur (as much as we hate him) wrote the scripts, and alot of Tommy lore. Will stopped writing the Script after he died canonically, and then later came back because in his own words " lI had to write myself back into the narrative [...] I didn't like where it was going. Not to see dream is a bad writer, but we had different ideas". That's him putting it nicely, the worst bit for the smp realistically was when dream was writing the lore.

And I'm not saying that it was bad but what I am saying is that the majority of people found it bad, so bad in fact that they had to bring Will back.

Dream did not write his own story.

And to the other content creators, on the server they will their own lore. And they acted it out themselves, dream was no part of that yet they still had to sign contracts because it was still on the physical server.

Ranboo and Technoblade in particular had some of the best story writing and telling, and they did it all themselves.

But there's only one thing in common, that makes sense but I think we all missed, dream was in every single person story or had planned to be. And I get it it's his server but on the other hand they could have had amazing stories without his input. Ranboo could have replaced Dream with a mysterious unknown character in his lore, and the outcome and affect would have been the same story-wise. Dream didn't need to be Puffy's son, but he was. Technoblade and Philza could have skip to the side plot of saving dream and instead it needed to return a favour to someone else.

The storytelling within the server is a amazing but if you subtract dream and put someone in his place it's still would have been the same story. It's like he was made to be sandwich in everyone's story. And yes he was a great character in most stories, but in others he was unnecessary.

Put with the overall fact that he had to be in every single story obviously ties back to the server being his, but it's also a reflection of his own ego. He probably still to this day believe that every single person has a career because of him and do not because of who they are now. He definitely helped but it's not all him.

And I would say George, Sapnap and Dream, have the same issue with ego. You see the way dream behaves with over people, he dominated people's careers for many years and had it done by fear.

Sapnap, he would swear and curse every single person, to the point where Scott said he was the most difficult person to put on a team because no one wanted to play with him (I have a different post about MCC). There were many offensive and situations in which the pair of them actually ruin the game for a lot of people. If you were not a person who watched MCC back in the day then I can tell you from now they had to change so many rules, Scott had to start making applications because of the amount of times that they would bail or not communicate with him or simply people didn't want to play with him and wanted to avoid him, and due to their obsessive behaviour in needing to the practice the maps so much that when the game was chosen some people didn't even try because they knew who would win.

They're talented don't get me wrong but there is an extent in which that their Talent crosses with ego and makes the whole game unplayable. This is without mentioning the amount of people who were scared to play with this team or against this team. No one had a fun.

And even in the smp, some people purposely avoided Sapnap, because he didn't know how to manage himself.

And George you could argue also has a large ego because of the people he surrounds himself by and he's a success. He is an objectively/ conventionally attractive male, and there have been many instances including in recent times and in certain develop it situations that he used it to his advantage. He doesn't behave his age and he treats people cruelly.

And most importantly, the fans. Yes YOU. You heavily contributed to the success of the server and to the success of the creators. But the level of obsession people would have regarding these content creators is something that will always baffle me.

And alot of people asked them to speak out, especially Dream. And he didn't. Dream actually encouraged his audience by selling sketchy merchandise and a USB stick with his baby pictures on it. He enables his radical audience because they are what keeps him going. Realistically without the radical side of his audience he would not be as successful and financially well off as he is now.

Additionally those people attack literally anyone that set something bad about him, and at first he tried to downplay it, then he assured people he would manage it and tell them to start, but then along the way he must have realized that these people a Ride or Die for him and that if he drives away these people he drives away a lot of money, free advertisement and a defense system against his brand- and I say this because these people would defend him in any circumstance

So then he doesn't stop them, and now you've got a 19-20s yr old with an unfortunate amount of mental health issues, some people who continue to jab him with needles anytime he's upset.

And it's sad. Is far beyond something that his parents can protect him from, yet he hasn't found the resources to protect himself. He's not happy with himself. He used to be scared to stand with someone successful even though he's successful.

And I'm genuinely proud of how much Tommy has grown. He is and continues to be a dedicated, passionate and nice person regardless of circumstances, he continues to be real with his audience and tries not to waste thier time. And none of that was taught to him by Dream. He taught himself how to be himself. If I see one person saying that he's a clout chaser I'm gonna have to tell you that you're wrong because he's done so much for himself to the point where you can't even count it yet you can count the things dream did for him on a Post-it note.

Tommy did well

[waterlooletterwrb]

WRITE WITH ME!

I will start, and you can use the reblog to continue this story however you desire! The idea is that post by post we do a longer story (but if you wanna post your version somewhere else feel free to do so, you just remember to credit me!).

The One rule: You can't gender the Elf!Reader character.

If you need, add more warnings to your post!

OTP: Mairon (Sauron) x Elf!Reader

Universe: Rings of Power / Tolkien

Warnings: main character death, angst, blood, "you can fix him" plot;

Summary: You're the one who stole the Dark Lord's heart, yet you're dying in his arms.

A Forbidden Promise

"Don't go. I — I cannot follow you there. You can't go. You can't go." His voice was frenetic, desperate in a way the dark lord never sounded. How could he not be? You're dying in his arms, the only sweet touch, warmth, love he's ever known. And he will never be able to follow you to Mandos. "Please, I will never be able to go with you there, please."

His plea sounds like he wants to go tho. A begging, maybe the first time in more than two ages that Mairon of the Maiar actually regrets his choices. In you he found his perfection. And now he would lose it. Was that the vengeance of the Valar?

You raise your weak hand, resting it on this face. With your thumb you wipe one of the tears from his cheek. Even now he is as beautiful as the first time you saw each other.

"I — I will come back. For you, I will come back." Your voice is not much more than an whisper. Yet, somehow you make a disbelieving smile appears on his lips.

"Who would give up paradise for me? For Sauron?" The name disgust you as much as it disgust him, and your face probably shows it because he sighs. "If you're leaving me, at least leave saying the truth. It's too... cruel to say it. For I never hoped before."

That makes you give him a pity sad smile. Ignoring the pain, you do everything you can to raise yourself. He holds you tighter, his warmth is what you need to concentrate even when your vision starts to fade.

"Mairon, endanya¹. Hear the last words of the one who stole your heart." This make you see for one last time the sweet smile that he only ever directed to you. "As I promised once, I will never lie to you."

He presses his forehead against yours. For the last time you breathe the same air. "So I dare to command you, Mairon or whatever name you desire to hear now: learn to hope." I little cry escapes your lips, and you feel his hands tremble where he holds you, for a moment you lose your mind and all you can hear is the blood dripping. It's a shame, his always beautiful tunics will forever be stained within your blood now.

Even so, he won't stop holding you. So you do everything you can to reassure him again. He needs to understand, he must believe.

"Learn to hope." You mumble. "For I shall return to you."

You no longer can see or feel, your hand falling from his face is the first sign you went to the undying lands. But you were right. And Mairon, Sauron, does not let you go. He holds you tightly, in a crying so long it's impossible to believe that that destroyed and devastated being was once Morgoth's heir.

The grief is too much and, when he finally let you, there's no one to hear but the wind while he whispers:

"I — I'm yours to command, endanya. I will hear whatever name you call me. I will do whatever you wish. I will hope — I will hope for you."

A promise and a threat. Because in his soul he knows; you were the only one that could stop what's coming for Middle Earth. You were the only one that could stop him.

So now even the wind hopes. You need to return.

••••••••••••••••

Endanya¹ = if i did the word correctly it should be quenya for "my love/my soul", but in a deeper way of calling the one you love "your everything". In my mind, when Sauron says it he is also telling that the reader is his light.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hello I was wondering if you had any tips on how to write/create an outline for psychological thrillers/horror?

Hi! I have this post on horror.

Writing Notes: Psychological Thriller

A subgenre of thriller that explores the psychology of its characters, who are often unstable.

The biggest questions revolve around the mind and behavior.

Often incorporates elements of mystery and include themes of crime, morality, mental illness, substance abuse, multiple realities or a dissolving sense of reality, and unreliable narrators.

Generally stays away from elements of science fiction, focusing on events that could take place in real life.

The 3 C's of a Thriller

The contract: An implied promise you make to the reader about what will be delivered by the end of the book. It’s crucial to keep every single promise you make, no matter how trivial.

The clock: The fact that adding time pressure to any character’s struggle will create higher stakes and more interest for the reader. The goal of this element is not to be stunningly original but to add pressure that will prompt conflicts and intense responses from your characters.

The crucible: A box that constrains your characters, offers them no escape, and forces them to act. Your story should present an increasingly difficult series of tasks and situations for the hero that will funnel them into the most severe trial of all. You must make sure that each successive task is harder than the previous one and that, for the hero, there is no escape. If readers begin to sense that the journey is becoming easier, they’ll lose interest.

The 3 Elements of a Good Psychological Thriller

Although psychological thrillers vary widely in their storylines, some common elements include:

Major plot twists: Psychological thrillers can be ruined by spoilers, since so much of their excitement hinges on the unexpected twists and turns that the novel takes.

An unreliable narrator: Revealing the narrator, or another important character, to be unreliable is another way authors create suspense as the reader tries to figure out who they can trust. Lies, paranoia, and flawed memories are all staples in the psychological thriller genre.

Familiar elements: Psychological thrillers often take place in the home (aka domestic thrillers) and feature ordinary-seeming characters. This allows thriller writers to get inside the reader’s mind, making them wonder, “What if this happened to me?” Starting with the familiar also allows writers to slowly introduce characters’ backstories, mental health issues, and other elements that create suspense over the course of the novel.

Tips for Writing a Psychological Thriller

The best psychological thrillers keep readers on the edge of their seats with unexpected twists. While reading a psychological thriller is easy, writing one can be difficult. Here are some writing tips to help you from first draft through editing:

Keep tension high. You can do this descriptively by showing your characters in tense situations, and you can do it structurally by rearranging the parts of a chapter to keep the pacing swift. Both techniques involve withholding information from the reader. By doing this, you don’t get bogged down in details or information dumps that slow down the pacing. Crucially, withholding allows room in the reader’s mind for the growth of questions and ideas.

Craft situations where characters are unable to get the information or tools they need. This forces the characters to strategize and take actions to reach their goals. If you do this, it’s important to construct believable scenarios. Make sure your characters don’t have an easy way of getting the information they need. Otherwise, your readers will lose respect for you and your characters.

Heighten the tension. In general, there are two ways to augment tension in your story. Descriptive elements that create tension are individual; they come from your story and from the forces or events that are pressuring your characters. Structural elements that create tension involve the way you write your story, like starting your chapters with a sense of urgency or blending descriptive passages into action scenes.

Flesh out character backstories. One way to create twists and suspense is to slowly introduce surprising elements of your characters’ backstories. A backstory can create a plot twist, or reveal why a character may be unreliable. Backstories can also raise the stakes of a story by giving your characters motivation.

Some Subgenres of Psychological Thriller

The psychoanalysis or ‘psycho-traumatic’ thriller

The amnesia thriller

The stolen identity thriller (including mistaken identity)

The ‘woman in jeopardy’ thriller

The stalker thriller

Serial killers or psychopaths and their psychological profiling arguably fit better in the forensic criminal investigation sub-genre, so they may be classified in the Crime Thriller subgenre.

From the sub-categories listed above, it is obvious that as well as overlap with the crime thriller sub-genre, the psychological thriller is also related to psychological horror. The ‘woman in jeopardy’ and ‘stalker’ thrillers also have elements in common with romance – particularly Gothic romance.

Common Psychological Thriller Tropes

Tropes appear repeatedly for a reason: they're what the readers are looking for. Decide which ones to include in your novel.

The protagonist has an inner conflict exacerbated by an external event.

Some sort of mental health issue plays a major role in the story (doesn't have to be the main character). This could be a diagnosed or undiagnosed mental health issue, paranoia, deep distrust, suspicion, or a slow slipping away of sanity.

Reality comes into question as the story progresses. 

The protagonist finds it hard to decide who to trust.

There's a major plot twist at the climax. (There may be multiple plot twists.)

The characters are flawed, complex, and relatable. 

The settings are common (home, office, child's school, church, etc.)

The stakes may not be life or death (although they can be), but they should be sanity or insanity, or well-being or a ruined life. 

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing Notes ⚜ Mystery ⚜ Tension ⚜ Violence Kidnapping ⚜ Backstory ⚜ Plot Twists ⚜ Crime Fiction ⚜ Character Journey

Hope this helps with your writing!

[amebanworld]

So, here we are. Finally I’m dropping by to share something I’ve been pondering. I think it's about time to speak about this openly.

You know, I've been a TF fan since my childhood, since I saw G1 Cartoon till now.

But since I'm not a native English speaker and the TF TV series have been aired irregularly at my country, I just haven't be able to follow all series when they were broadcasted. I just wasn’t able to watch all of them. I'm not interested in every single series though, just in some of them. Same happens with comics and movies: seriously I like to think Bayverse just didn’t happen.

So I’ll will tackle the series/comic sI’ve watched/read only, and not every Screamer incarnation.

Let's start…

In 80's (and earlier) cartoons, it was quite common that one of the main characters was bashed by other characters under the premise that "this chara is problematic b/c he thinks different from the others, so he must be punished". As crazy as it sounds, this was encouraged by parents supervising children cartoons’ morality. That's why Eric (from the D&D cartoon) or Rudy (from Fat Albert) were made fun of, and that is what’s happening with G-1!Starscream. Yes, I mean the regular bashing he suffers by almost every other character in the series, and mostly from his leader, Megatron. Also, this was encouraged by the idea of "Hey! They're just aliens robots! We can be harsher with them since it isn’t an average cartoon for kids." And that's how it begun.

Since the G1 cartoon (and its comics counterpart, although the mood is quite different), Screamer has been portrayed as “selfish, a disloyal second-in-command, a coward yadda-yadda", but he also has been portrayed as somebody who endures punisment from almost every other character regularly, and mostly from Meggs, as I said before. This pattern repeats itsel over and over in all TF series, no matter the plot or the setting.

Despite being so popular, most of the fandom think that "he deserves it b/c he's a traitor", or just like it as a slapstick comedy. However, over time, and since certain series and comics have more serious plots, this issue was interpreted under a different perspective by older audiences.

Starscream, no matter the continuity, suffers from PTSD and is victim of abuse.

And I fully agree with that.

Over the years, I've met many fans (female fans mostly, perhaps b/c they usually have this kind of sensibility) who loved the character and felt bad for him because they identified with him on a personal level. I've met veterans too who indentified with Screamer. Both of them just felt really uneasy about how he’s treated in comics and especially in the series. Of course, there’re many fans that just think this is nonsense and don't agree with it. However, invalidating the opinion of these other fans and brush it aside as "nonsense" means to ignore the victims of abuse and their suffering too.

So, what do I mean with "victim of (domestic) abuse"?

First of all, it doens't mean just abuse from your romantic partner, but also from your parents or relatives, from your boss, your classmates, etc. The thing is, all that applies to Screamer. Unlike other characters that just attack him during battles and such, Screamer is punched many times till almost dying by Megatron. He’s also insulted and invalidated. There’s some examples of different continuities below.

The dynamic of abusive relationships is very complex, but in all continuities we can find the same pattern: "The victim tries to flee and does something careless, then he's caught and punished by his insolence". The problem is that the victim is also a traitor and a liar, and certainly he's not a saint. Plus the abuser keeps him around still.

Why?

Summing up, it's a vicious circle. The victim thinks he "deserves" to be punished, but since he wants to be free, he behaves carelessly and paying no heed to loyalty so as to “deserve” that punishment. Meanwhile, the abuser seeks to blame (and punish) the victim from his own faults. Then, when one makes a move, the other behaves accordingly. Meanwhile there’s also calm moments where things “seems” fine. That's why Meggs and Screamer seems to get along "nicely" when nothing happens.

Eventually, the victim copies the abusive behaviour, becoming also an abuser. This is quite obvious in the TFP continuity, where Screamer does the same things to KnockOut.

Of course, the abuser is guilty, but the victim has his own faults. Usually, these people suffer from PTSD and develop a nasty behaviour towards others. They become selfish, demanding, disloyal, etc. This explains why Screamer behaves as such with almost everyone in all continuities. Usually, the victim isn’t aware (or just doesn't want to ) that he's into an abusive relationship (no matter what kind), so he’s just seen as being disloyal, stupid or something like that. Usually, only people who have suffered abuse, or are close to an abuse victim, are aware of this problem, and of how hard it is to break the vicious circle and break free.

Many fans were aware of this problem, and some years ago a bunch of them decided to let know their feelings about SS to Hasbro, so they send the company a long letter, thanks to @tyrantofthefirmament You can read their letter HERE.

And how did Hasbro answered?

I guess they get a lot of letters from the fandom, and that their marketing team will be well aware about the fandom opinions at least now, b/c it's kind of obvious that the later comics and series portrays ideas that were born in the fandom. Anyway their answer to that letter sounded like "We're glad to heard from you. We'll think about it someday. Thanks!"

And that’s whay they did on the later series, it seems.

Let's check it…

*TFP: SS is written so randomly here. First, he's a serious threat; in the second season, he breaks free and joins the Abots or is just on his own (the best part), and finally, in the third season, he joins Dcons again, and Meggs punches him for any random reason. Finally, he dies.

*Armada Trilogy: he's written as a tragic character. He ends up being a hero and dies saving the day on the first season. Later on, he's resurrected as a zombie with no memories. Finally, in the 3rd season, he becomes… what the heck?? He doesn’t seems to be the same character!

*War for Cybertron Trilogy. Well. Here, he's closer to his G1 Incarnation, despite he wasn't a scientist and he was under Jetfire's command till the white jet joins the Abots. The same tropes are repeated, till Blacharacnnia teams up with him and he meets Unicron in a Lovecraft- like scene. Afterwards, the writers got wild and gave him the arc to be an anti-hero, warning everybody, who actually barely believe in him. At least, the writers tried here to give certain credit.

Starry meets Cthulhu... eeer, Unicron.

*IDW comics. Perhaps the most developed incarnation. Here, the problems of abuse and trauma, along his faults in the GreatWar, become an issue that must be solved. He becomes a Cybertron ruler, makes a friend (Metalhawk) then kills him… and later, he regrets it a lot. Bumblebee appears to him as an hallucination and befriends him (his only friend is imaginary). WheelJack has a soft spot for him, but this isn’t enough. Then, Windblae appears, who is oblivius of the Cybertronian war. And well, things happen and he isn't disloyal anymore and learns about his true self. Perhaps this is the only series where his fate is different.

Bee facing Screamer in his own hallucinations...

*EarthSpark. These series tries to mix up G1 with IDW. War is over, the Earthling TF are born and Screamer is jailed in a corrupted human facility, till he manages to break free. At this point, an Earthligh TF, Haghstag, knows about his trauma and helps him. The whole first season deals with Dcons as people with his own lifestory and traumas, and how important redeption is. Starscream fits this plot…

Haghstag and Screamer... and he's smiling.

Till the following seaons where the writers just ignore everything and they come back to the same old plots again and again in a very creepy way.

The thing is, Starscream nor talks about this with others, neither uses it as an excuse for his behaviour towards his companions. That goes against the Decepticons ideals, but also that would make him to look "weak", or he just doesn't want to admit it despite his pain. Dcon's are usuallly portrayed as horrible people, after all.

Anyway, the fact is Hasbro and their writers just don’t dare to tackle a character arc to give him some reliable background or credit. They show some hints here and there of "perhaps he's victim of abuse/he suffers PTSD", and later, they brush him off. This is kind of obvious for every continuity discussed here.

So why? I just don't get it. And that's why I find this is a problem. I just don't want to see the same old story again and again, with a character that is basically a punching bag on one hand and a baddie on the other. (Skybound comics aren't included here since it's an ongoing series by now). If the writers dared to write a redenmption arc for Megatron. Why not for Starscream?

(Special thanks to @sandalwood03, who edited my broken English into something nicer).

[anim-ttrpgs]

More rambling On the subject of TTRPGs as a disrespected artform.

There’s a bunch of reasons for this disrespect being present that I could get into but I’m going to focus on the most relevant one to this topic: TTRPGs are helpless.

To explain what I mean I’m going to make a comparison to video games, or at least action-adventure type video games. Those have a lot of similarity to “trad” and “neo-trad” TTRPGs, which are nominally the most popular style of TTRPG (even though it seems like half the player base would rather be playing something else but again another tangent). Both of these are usually about protagonists using abilities to avoid or defeat adversaries and avoid traps and progress through a series of hazardous areas.

Video games are not helpless. They can assert themselves on the player. When you lose in a video game and you’re like “Aw no way, I didn’t want that to happen!” The video game can say “No, Mario fell in the pit, Master Chief got blown up by a grenade, Pac-man got caught by a ghost, you lose. According to the rules of the game, you have to try again from a checkpoint.” And you have to do it. The game forces you to start over.

In a TTRPG, if your guy gets killed and you object to that, the TTRPG can at most offer a weak textual protest as you or the game master flips the die over to a more favorable number.

Of course plenty of video games have cheat codes, hacks, mods, etc. that can remove that power from the video game to force you to follow the rules of the game, but not everyone has the knowledge or skills to use those, whereas everyone can flip a die over or just lie about the number. Plus, doing this is looked upon less favorably in the culture of video games than in the culture of ttrpgs. I mean, it’s in the name. “Cheat” codes. You’re cheating.

If somebody brags about how they beat Elden Ring with no deaths but then you mention that you hacked the game to give your character infinite HP, people will go “hey wait a minute,” but if you brag about how your character was so badass when they defeated a hundred cultists at once in D&D5e, because the DM kept saying the cultists missed every time the rules say they should’ve hit and you kept saying your character hits every time the rules say their attack should miss, nobody bats an eye. It’s even more accepted and expected that a DMPC will materialize out of thin air to kill everything every time the party picks a fight they can’t win.

Ultimately, a lot of the urge to cheat like this I think comes from the fact that people are introduced to neo-trad TTRPGs like D&D5e through critical role and also its playerbase’s general fixation on pre-planned plots and heavily scripted scenes that rely on characters never dying(which was not invented by critical role but was heavily bolstered by them). The only way that these goals can be achieved is by cheating, since D&D5e really doesn’t support that kind of thing, so they get into a habit of cheating. They get into the mindset that the rules don’t matter and can only get in the way of their intended gameplay. Which is of course because their intended gameplay is not something D&D5e was made for.

Then gradually they trickle into other games besides D&D5e, and assume that those games’ rules don’t matter either, completely deflecting and disregarding the experience that the designer intended players to have with their art. Or worse, they become TTRPG designers themselves, and write their own rules based on the assumption that the rules don’t matter which not only results in shitty gameplay experiences for people who are trying to follow these thoughtlessly-written rules, but also further reinforces the infectious idea that TTRPG rules don’t matter. But dude. TTRPGs aren’t anything *but* rules. The rules text is the whole game. Saying the rules don’t matter is like saying the paint on the canvas doesn’t matter! Yes! It matters because those colors of paint in those places placed there intentionally by the artists are what makes it a painting and make up the whole experience of experiencing the painting!

So we have a huge demographic in the TTRPG fanbase that thinks that the very artform itself is, at best, valueless and at worst actively bad!

Reading comprehension check!

Things I did not say in this post:

“We need to expel any particular demographic and never let them play.” (But maybe if they don’t like our artform, they should try to find one more suited to their needs instead of twisting another artform into something else.)

“You’re never allowed to adjust or homebrew a rule to fit the intentional gameplay experience you’re going for.” (But if you find yourself doing this all the time, either before you have even played the game normally, or constantly on the fly in most or all sessions, maybe you need to find a different game altogether.)

Exerpt from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. (with art by @theblackwarden )

[indieyuugure]

How long does it take you to create a page and how do you usually go about creating an update? Where do you start?

It depends on the page. Some pages can take as many as 8 hours to complete while others maybe 5? It really has to do with the number of panels and the complexity (generally speaking it takes 1 hour per panel)

I always start by paneling out my page, so drawing all the boarders and designing the way the page flows. Then I add text and rough sketches. Typically “rough sketches” look something like this:

Just something to get down what I want and express the scene (also so I don’t get what I want). This step typically takes about an hour purely because I am indecisive and want everything a certain way.

After that I start going through and finalizing drawings and dialogue to be how I want. The last step is then adding sound effects and speech bubbles (though sometimes I will actually do the speech bubbles before drawing the pretty images depending on my day)

I use Clip Studio Paint which has tools like panel tools (literally like vector graphics that generate boxes that you can adjust and break) as well as bubble tools that help streamline a lot of this.

The page contents are decided by my script in a google doc I have that has every episode written out in advance (usually about 1 chapter ahead of what I’m working on). Occasionally I make edits because I catches inconsistencies in my writing or I get better ideas, but for the most part I follow it pretty closely. Granted it’s pretty vague, but in terms of following event orders and plot progression, it’s pretty close.

It looks something like this:

As you can see, there’s some differences in small details, but for the most part it’s almost the same. (I believe this draft hasn’t been updated to the version in which Shredder doesn’t arrive in New York until chapter 4)

Good question! :]

[asraindarkness]

vent time! i have to disrespectfully disagree with people who are now suddenly saying "it was clear from the start that bucktommy was just a short-term thing". the whole issue with the argument is this: 911 has never been the best written show, and especially everything after s4 has been capital R Rough. this is no succession, the bear, arcane. you know, tv shows that have incredibly story continuity, character writing, and pacing. people say that bucktommy was not written "well enough" as if that is a valid sign in the 911 universe that the breakup was a sure thing. i call bullshit. when was the last time that the show has wrapped up even the simplest storyline in a satisfying and serious way? when was the last time character development happened and was take seriously? when was the last time the main characters didn't feel stagnant and the stories didn't feel repetitive? when was the last time the show didn't go in circles and choose the easy or sometimes most offensive way out? 911 had enough meat to tell compelling stories for 3 seasons, afterwards it went noticibly downhill. people who say that the "bad writing" of bucktommy should have been a clear sign are talking complete nonsense imo. tommy was the first ever love interest who checked all the boxes, who got verbal approval of bobby (who has watched buck grow and knows him incredibly well and who did notice a positive difference in buck!), who had everything that we have been told buck needs in a partner for 6 seasons. the canon text spelled out: this could be the one.

we were not delusional for that because, once again, i have to point out: the wonky writing is not a bucktommy problem. it has been and still is a general 911 problem. if they butcheted the bucktommy writing while they did great with everything else, yes, then i would agree the signs were there. for 911 standards of writing, which are very low in comparison to good tv shows, bucktommy has actually been done pretty damn great until that fucked up breakup. people say "they didn't even know each other after 6 months" and i retort "athena first admitted that she had a fiance before michael to michael and bobby like 30 years (?) after the fact". this show has been fucking up storylines left and right for years, and most characters and dynamics had many moments that were terribly written and poorly handled and were only enjoyable when you ignored the idiocy of it all. this show doesn't care about timelines, doesn't care about logic, doesn't care to base the drama within the constraints of a realistic depiction of society and laws. it retcons things for shits and giggles. the mains only get through it all thanks to plot convenience and plot armor. like please. we try to find logical solutions (e.g. tommy lands the plane) and the show will choose whatever is the most ridiculous idea (12 yo lands it).

looking at the bigger picuture, bucktommy had incredible potential for 911 standards and could have easily worked long-term if only the writers wanted to do so. the simple problem is: they apparently don't want to put any more work into it. it is as easy as that. many things in this show never lived up to their full potential and got wrapped up in the most ridiculous ways that nobody could have ever predicted. like, my bad for expecting some leftover common sensen and logic in the weewoo show! at this point, it feels like a skit starring clowns that will do the most random shit. rinse and repeat.

in that context and thinking back to all the butchered storylines, bucktommy had actually been a fucking masterpiece so far. now, it unfortunately just joins a looong row of things that could have been impactful and meaningful if only the show had good storytelling.

how could i have ever knew a breakup is coming when the writing literally said i wrote them for 8.05 as an stablished couple who where doing ok just so the breakup could hurt more!!! hurt who??? cuz most of their fandom were queers, so there is that.

and yes i agree with you. i dropped the show after s6 and came back to it ONLY bcz my friend told me buck came out bi and start this season only bcz i was invested in buck and his relationship journey cuz i knew for a fact the other part of this show is not gonna get any better and the fucked that up to.

they only claim they KNEW they’re gonna break up cuz they were saying it since 7.06 lol

and it piss me off when they say there was no chemistry (which i disagree) cuz this is so stupid. lacking chemistry is something WE see as audiences it is not a thing for characters in the story, they don’t see it and they don’t feel it so it can not be a reason for them to breakup, like??????

all and all bddie shippers has been dancing this dance for 7 years now and yk what? i hope they do get what they want cuz 911 is not gonna change the writing so i hope they do get bddie in this exact writing they seem to loooove cuz i know it’s not gonna be all fair dust and unicorns lol

(i still love buck and i hope hope hope they handle his sexuality better at least from now on but im not optimistic)

[weirdsht]

Heya!! Can I request a tcf x reader fic from where the reader is teenager and got teleported there? Somehow they can see the dreams of the future and knew about tcf novel while also being a full on simp for the main characters?(But also the thing that the young reader was someone who has been to various worlds and was in a loop, repeating things but without the memory of them doing so each time. They get glimpses ofcourse but it was just their past self trying to give out signals to not repeat any mistakes)

Definitions - Cale & Teen! Reader

notes: sorry anon i couldn't reflect all of your ideas because i found some of them hard to combine when i started writing. also this plot is better suited for a long fic/series but i don't have that time and energy huhu

tags: gender-neutral reader, mentions of death and dying (can be a little graphic but nothing too bad), teenager reader, nightmares

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome (for a limited time)

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“You should be more careful, this is uncharted territory.”

The look-a-like caressed your face softly as they spoke. Eyes filled with concern and uncertainty bore into you.

You may look alike but there’s something different about them.

Maybe it’s their mature aura. Perhaps it could be the tired look in their eyes. As though they have been suffering for eternity and want everything to end.

Whether they long for peace or eternal rest even you do not know.

“Still… this is a good opportunity and something we haven’t tried yet. Maybe you’ll be safer under his watch.”

“What do you mean by that? Who are you?”

You spoke for the first time since being transported in this weird abyss.

Being transmigrated into a novel like a lousy isekai protagonist was already confusing, but now you have to add weird dreams on top of that.

However, it beats trying to survive in that place you used to call home.

Between being endlessly confused and going back there… you’d choose the former any time of the day.

“I am you, well a part of you at least. As for what I mean… let’s just say this is for your own good.”

The supposed “you” paused briefly as they rested their hand on their chin. Probably thinking about how much they can disclose. Once they made up their mind their fingers caressed your head.

You may not know what’s happening, but you can tell they’re trying to provide comfort.

And it’s probably for the arduous path waiting beyond this dream.

“We’ve been through this many times, and each time you forget… I do not know if god has forsaken us or is playing a cruel joke…”

The look-a-like sighed before hugging you tightly. You meant to reciprocate, however, before you could raise your arms a sharp pain went through your neck.

“AGH! IT HURTS!”

It really does. It feels as though someone’s digging a knife through your neck, Trying to separate your head from your body.

When you manage to come back to your senses the other you are gone. The only thing left in the abyss is your and your throbbing neck.

…And wouldn’t you know, the moment you looked at your hands that were previously clutching your neck… all you could see was blood.

“-[me]”

“-[me]!”

“[Name]!”

“[Name] wake up!”

You jolt up as the familiar voice wakes you up from your dream. That’s right, you are currently under Cale Henituse’s wing after being transmigrated inside the novel you were reading. You have momentarily forgotten such a fact.

Clutching your throbbing neck, you tried to look at the redhead through your tears. Not that you are succeeding at the moment. However, you think you could see a slightly startled look on the young master’s usually calm face.

“Young master..?”

You asked, unsure of everything as your mind is still hazy. Still trying to get out of dreamland.

“You were screaming and crying in your sleep.”

Cale stated calmly as if he wasn’t panicking a minute ago. Still, his eyes roamed around you several times to double-check if there was anything wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The redhead asks as he gently wipes your tears and pry your hands away from your neck.

“I’m sorry young master. I don’t think I can for I don’t remember the contents of my dream… All I could remember was that there was a searing pain in my neck. It-it felt so real. As though I was in the middle of the battlefield and someone was sawing their sword back-and-forth on my neck…”

You tried to explain to the best of your abilities. You didn’t want to lie to the man that you considered your saviour.

Both when you were reading the novel and when you transmigrated.

In every form, fictional character or not, Cale Henituse has always been your saviour in one way or another. And thus you hold deep respect for the man.

“Don’t push yourself. Sometimes forgetting and never remembering is better than being reminded constantly.”

Ah, he must be referring to his record ability. A blessing and a curse indeed…

“Still, if you feel unwell or anything come to me. I took a kid like you in so I must take responsibility for you till the very end.”

Cale Henituse probably doesn’t know the impact of his words. Just how much you have longed to hear such things.

No, perhaps he does. Perhaps more than anyone, Kim Rok Soo has been the one longing to hear those words since he was a child.

“I’ll keep that in mind…”

With that, Cale stepped out for a moment to ask a servant to fetch a glass of warm milk. After doing so he returned to your side, sitting on the side of your bed. He looks unwilling to leave you, despite having three younger children waiting for him in his bedroom.

“Don’t hold back, have you seen me holding back from doing and saying whatever I want? You don’t have to push yourself to act like a grownup around me. I’m the adult, those things are for me to bear.”

Cale’s words suddenly found their way to your memory when you were about to urge him to go back to On, Hong, and Raon. That combined with the redhead’s determined gaze to not leave your side has you clamping your mouth shut.

Soon enough a maid delivered the glass of milk to your room and you drank it to your heart’s content. Then the morning after that you could feel the children averaging 7 years old sleeping beside you.

The weeks following that are peaceful. Well as peaceful as Cale’s life could get at least. Not that it says much since he has the tendency to meddle in things that will only jeopardize his slacker life.

Despite that, your days are looking better. After that night you didn’t seem to experience excruciating nightmares anymore. You also seemed to have opened up to the rest of the crew.

Perhaps that’s why Cale became complacent, causing him to lower his guard.

And perhaps that’s also why his face hardens 10x more than it would have weeks ago. His anger soars through the sky, reaching the gods even, as he hears the heartbroken sobs you utter on your lips after waking up from a nightmare.

“Am I such a bad child for the gods to do this to me? Have they forsaken me? What did I do that was so wrong that warrants this kind of suffering?”

You sobbed on the young’s master chest. You look so out of it. Eyes glazed over as if you’re not with Cale despite being in his embrace. You continued to wail, continued to curse the world for putting you in a type of pain that not even Cale can comprehend.

“I’m tired, I’m so tired. How many times has it been? I’ve tried my best… I always did, but I don’t know what the gods want.”

As you looked up at the ceiling, perhaps trying to directly ask the gods, Cale could finally clearly see your eyes.

They were filled with pain and suffering. Such young eyes carry the weight of the world.

It did not belong to the teen who was laughing and playing around with the kids and Choi Han.

It was still you, but it wasn’t the you that Cale is currently raising.

The meddlesome transmigrator couldn’t understand it himself, but he was sure of this feeling that he had about you.

Hence why when you finally passed out he immediately ordered someone to summon Cage and Saint Jack.

Cale Henituse might be a piece of trash but he always sees through his promises.

Even if he has to fight every god out there to fulfil it.

Because for Cale Henituse, that’s what it means to be a guardian.

[dudewhy3]

Continue yours and Myrtle's discussion about Armin being a Twilight fan, what if it's a plot twist, and it's ARMIN who introduced Mikasa to Twilight?

Like, he was *analysing* everything and reading books and watching movies, but was ashamed of it, and Mikasa once spotted him writing another long essay about, "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger: principles of the selective abstraction and polarizes thinking", and so he introduced her with the saga after this.

BONUS: before AruAni became a thing, Armin heard Annie playing and singing Paramore - Decode, and he was mesmerized by her voice, playing and beauty, and so he was so smitten with her, that he didn't even notice that Annie was, in fact, smitten with him, too. It took them a while before they became a couple, but when they did, Annie plays Decode only for him :3

HI ANNAAAA, AND OH MY GOD YES!! THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA AAAAAAGH, thank you for sending it in!! <3

It turned out rather long ahaha, so i'll put it under the cut. Please do beware of the angst ahead :3

So in a high school au, let's say Armin was 16 this year. That would mean that he was born in the same year the first Twilight movie was released (2008), just 3 weeks before. So, imagine his parents, a young couple, new parents to a little bundle of light, huddling up on the little couch in their little apartment, trying to ignore the cold, switching through channels to make the time pass. They randomly get to a channel streaming Twilight, so they watch it all. And little Armin doesn't cry once, he just stares at the screen with those big eyes of his, as if he understood everything that was going on. For the next 5 years, each November they would watch the release of another Twilight movie (except for that one time in like 2010 when they released it in June). And after the saga was complete, they'd watch it all in November, maybe even on Armin's birthday to make it more special. Until the day he turned 10, and his parents didn't come home– they never came home again, it was just him and his grandfather. Yet every time he missed them, he put on a Twilight movie, and the grief would get a little more bearable.

So as he grew older, he grew more attached to the saga. He started analysing everything about it, every little detail, because it made him feel closer to his parents. But he never shared those ideas, because they were so intimate and he was already getting bullied enough- so, he kept them in a little notebook. Until one day in math class when he was about 13 or 14, he was scribbling down ideas for that essay you mentioned- "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger" (which is such a cool title btw, love it). And Mikasa peeked over his shoulder and read a bit, and she was so engrossed with it that she didn't stop pestering him until he showed her the movies.Which was life changing for Mikasa, because she now finally had something she truly loved, but also for Armin- someone liked his ideas; he got to share his love for the series again, and it made him happy. So he finally found the courage to share his analyses and ideas, and they were well recieved by the fandom.

But he never finished that essay, not until he met Annie. He met her just as you said- he heard her singing once and was irrevocably in love. Except, i head canon that Annie would be such a distant and quiet person in high school, it would take a LOT to get close to her. Not only is she aloof, she's also extremely direct- so all his efforts to sit with her or strike up conversation ended up in her berating him for bugging her. Besides, there was Bert too, always two steps behind Annie in an almost stalky manner, but she seemed to indulge his presence better than Armin's.

So, Armin gave up on trying to pursue her. He accepted the fact that he was the Jacob in this situation and that his Bella has chosen the giant vampire, and drowned himself into his theories and analysis. He found that essay in his drafts, and decided to work on it again. "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger: principles of the selective abstraction and polarized thinking". It helped to put his own feelings and love somewhere.

But the bullies found it. They found his notebook, tore it all up, gave him one hell of a beating. Armin was left bruised and broken and with a ruined notebook. His work, his life's purpose- gone. He didn't know what to do, so he picked himself up, gathered the pieces of paper that used to be his essay, and started walking astray through the school. Until he heard soft guitar tunes coming out of the music room, and found Annie there, playing her guitar, wearing a scowl on her face. Somehow, her scowl only deepened when she saw him.

"I didn't know where else to go." He couldn't go home and worry his grandpa, and he couldn't go to his friends either, or Eren would have caused a scene. "Is it cool if I stay here? I promise not to bother you."

Annie looked him up and down, examining him thoroughly, her eyes widening the slightest bit at the sight of his bruises. "It's whatever," she finally said.

So they sat in the music room, each doing their own thing. Armin put his essay back together, and Annie carried on with her song. No word was spoken between them that day, or the next day, or the next week, yet there was peace in the quiet and comfort in the silent understanding passed between them. But Annie's silence turned into nods of aknowledgement and later into quiet 'hi's. Armin's turned into little smiles and stolen glances, and occasional "hey do you want some chips?"s. One day, two months into this arrangement, as she was taking a little break from her guitar and munching on his chips, she asked about that essay of his.

"How come you haven't finished it yet, don't you have a deadline for it?"

And so, feeling extremely self conscious, Armin beat around the bush and said that it was this silly character analyses for a show he liked.

The next day, Annie was playing another song, but he didn't recognize it at first because she played it in little sequences, never in full length. Eventually, maybe three or four weeks later, she asked him to put his essay aside for a minute and just listen, and she played Paramore's Decode, both guitar and voice. Armin was left absolutely mesmerized, so much so that he didn't know what to say, staring at Annie with a big dumb smile on his face. But the more he stared, the more self aware Annie became. She flushed a deep red, picked up all her stuff in a hurry and left.

That was the moment Armin realized he was completely smitten. He went home, sat down at his desk- and decided to finish his essay that very day, give it to Annie in the morning, and confess his love through it. Which is exactly what he did. He was an absolute zombie the next day, having barely slept, but when he made it to the music room his heart was beating like crazy against his chest.

Annie got flustered when she saw him. "This is my room, I found it first. If you're gonna sit there and mock me for what I play, then you can stick your nose right up your-"

He thrusted the papers in her arms. "Just read this," he demanded.

Annie looked between him and the papers with skeptical eyes, but eventually sat down and started reading through them. Armin sat next to her and carefully watched her face as she read, taking into account every little change in her expression.

When she was done, Annie sat the papers neatly between them.

"Okay. And?"

"What do you think?"

"What does this have to do with me?"

Armin took a deep breath in, building up his courage. He couldn't back out now.

"This is how I feel about you. What do you think?"

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! This is my first time requesting sorry if it’s bad .. but could you write one where reader used to be in a bit of an abusive relationship so when she got with Donna she wasn’t used to the kinda of care and sweet things she would do for her and doesn’t understand why Donna would do anything like that for someone like her. Then one day maybe they are out at the duke or something and reader is talking to an friend and Donna gets jealous and quiet on the way back and reader starts to get very anxious thinking Donna will do something to her like her last relationship. When they get home Donna is acting kinda weird and immediately goes to the basement after a little while of Donna being gone reader goes to confront her about it and then donna goes a little bit crazy and hits her fist on her workbench and then when she comes out of her little episode she’s you crying and feels really REALLY bad about it.

You can end it with smut or fluff I’m good with whatever. So sorry my grammar is buns I suck at writing and I love your story’s to I read them all the time!❤️

Yesss!!! Welcome to the requesting world!!! Thank you for your request and support!!! I'm sorry if it's a bit dark, and I have to say I didn't put smut due to the plot, but I hope you can enjoy it the same way!!! Sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

Demons of past, demons of mind

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, dark themes, mentions of abuse, Donna being Donna, mental health issues, slighty dark Donna, fluff

Word count: 7,930

Summary: You have your demons, she has them too...

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

You never liked masses.

It's not that you had anything against the Black Gods or Mother Miranda, it's just that meeting the whole village, enduring those curious glances and unconsciously looking for signs of any threat weren't your favorite way to spend the time.

Staying alone in that big mansion wasn't the best option either. Besides, you knew that she didn't like the idea of ​​abandoning you. You couldn't be ungrateful. You would always do anything she asked of you.

Miranda's words slipped through your ears as you curled up on one of the first benches. You didn't want to be far from her. Villagers like you were supposed to be scared and respectful of the authorities of that place.

For you, the Four Lords weren’t an imminent danger, or at least they didn't make your chest knot or make you feel dizziness. Yes, you feared them, but that was long before you knew the true dangers of that place.

Knowing all your neighbors could be considered an advantage, it could seem cozy and comfortable, but in your case it wasn't exactly like that. As a young girl, barely 23 years old, you had been through too many hardships and none of them had to do with the influence of the Black Gods, or at least that's what you thought.

Your eyes danced around the crowd as your body slowly shrank. In your head you followed the witch's words, trying to count the time left until you were free again. You weren't scared, but without the lady in black at your side, you didn't feel safe.

“May the Black Gods protect us,” Miranda said, ending that sermon.

Everyone in the church repeated those words of liberation, forming a murmur that accompanied the movement. You had to assume that, of course, everyone present had better things to do than listen to Miranda's words since they wasted no time in getting up.

Before you could really be aware of everyone who had come to the old chapel, you stood up, getting closer to the altar, where the Four Lords patiently watched the walk of their flock.

A smile of relief ran across your face as you stood next to her, next to the veiled lady, with your eyes expectant, wanting to go home. Her head turned to you, silently, but surely with a smile under the black cloth.

Lady and doll stood up from their seat, walking slowly towards you.

“Wait a moment, Donna,” Miranda said when the doll maker had already let your arm hook into hers.  “I have something to tell you.”

You, disappointed, looked at her invisible face as she lowered her hand to yours.

“Your cupcake can wait outside, right?” the witch said, looking at you, making you feel those grey eyes on your chest, those eyes always covered by a golden mask.

“Wait for me, (Y/N), I'll be right there,” the lady whispered in your ear, letting your hand go and indicating with a gesture for you to go out.

You didn't insist. Being with Donna was always your priority, but to be honest, you weren't too interested in Miranda's affairs, you were much happier not knowing what she was up to that time.

You sighed as you nodded, slowly walking out of the chapel, away from the crowd. It would only be a moment and there was nothing to worry about, right?

In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked up at the sky. The clouds, as always, were as black as the Gods, as black as your past, dark, impenetrable, constant...

You sketched a smile as you waited, as you watched people slowly walk away, without paying attention to you, just as you liked to live. Questions and rumors were never to your liking.

“(Y/N),” a voice you recognized instantly, took you out of those thoughts of relief.

You hoped to have given up your torments, but that day had an unpleasant surprise in store for you.

Automatically, your head lowered to the snowy ground, showing an absurd respect that your body maintained even with the new circumstances.

“Becca,” you whispered without looking at that girl in the face.

“I see that you continue to get lost in your thoughts,” the girl sighed, approaching you with a smug smile. “Pathetic.”

“C-Can you leave me alone?” you asked in a small voice, feeling the girl's steps in the snow as a countdown to suffering. “I don't want to talk to you.”

“Of course, you don't want to talk to me, you never wanted to, right?” the girl said, crossing her arms. “I always had to force the words out of your mouth, how rude.”

“I-I have nothing to say to you, Becca,” you whispered, noticing how sweat began to accumulate on your hands.

“Oh, me neither,” she said mockingly, tilting her head. “I'm glad I don't have to put up with you anymore.”

“W-Well, then... what do you want?” you asked, your whole body stiff and tense. “You left me.”

“If I remember correctly, you provoked it, (Y/N),” Becca insisted, spitting out her words in an unpleasant way. “You never knew how to treat me properly.”

“Was it my fault?” you asked, backing away, drawing out some courage, the little you had left. “You made my life a hell.”

“Because of you, (Y/N), I see you still haven't learned to be assertive,” the girl murmured, shaking her head. “Luckily for you, you don't owe me anything anymore. My new girlfriend is better than you.”

“Do you hit her too?” you asked, with your tense gaze fixed on the ground.

“She behaves much better than you,” your ex hissed, blinking petulantly.

“I feel sorry for her,” you whispered, turning your head to the chapel door, wishing she would appear to save you.

“What did you say?” Becca asked, grabbing your arm tightly, causing the painful memories of your relationship to immobilize you. “You're still stupid. You may not be mine anymore, but I can still…”

“Hey!” a scream caught your attention.

Just when you thought you were about to receive another undeserved punishment, the girl let you go, surely, seeing the lady in black behind you holding the Angie doll, owner of that shrill voice.

“Donna,” you sighed, breaking free from Becca's grip and cowardly running to take refuge behind the lady.

“Who are you, stupid?!” Angie asked, with a demanding tone. It was impossible for you to tell if Angie was speaking, or Donna was the one demanding answers but you didn't really care who it was.

“Lady Beneviento, I...” your ex-girlfriend murmured, moving away from you. “N-Nobody, I'm nobody.”

“You're nobody? Fine, then get out of our sight,” Angie said, gesturing towards the road.

The girl shook her head as you tightly grabbed the arm of the woman in black, who remained motionless, threatening.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” Becca said, quickly fleeing the scene, causing the puppet to laugh triumphantly.

“If you come near her again, I won't be so kind, stupid!” Angie shouted while laughing amused. “Look how she runs, Donna, you scared her.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured discreetly, turning to look at you. “(Y/N), lasciami.”

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, realizing that you were holding your girlfriend with excessive strength, due to fear. “T-Thank you…”

“Thank you? Why? Who was it?” the doll maker asked, grabbing you gently and starting to walk, finally returning to the mansion.

“Nobody,” you murmured, finally finding the comfort of her body very close to yours as the village grew ever further away.

“You're lying to me,” the lady said, walking slower, looking at you, surely, with a frown.

“No, I...” you stammered. “It's just that...”

You didn't want to lie to Donna, but you never dared to talk about your past with her. Not out of fear, but rather so as not to remind the hell you lived through.

“Who was she, silly? It seems you knew each other,” Angie said, insisting, just like her owner.

“Yes, well, the truth is that she is... my ex,” you finally said, lowering your head without releasing the lady, who turned slowly, but didn’t stop walking.

“Your ex,” Donna repeated with a sigh, looking at you out of the corner of her eye through the gaps in her veil.

“She wasn't nice to me,” you said with a weak voice due to your horrible memories, with the pain of her slaps still impregnated in your cheeks. “I know I hadn't told you much about her, but I just didn't want to remember and…”

“So she was the reason you were crying when I met you,” the lady said, with a voice apparently devoid of emotions.

“Yes,” you said dryly, getting closer to the lady, who, apparently, understood your concern, surrounding you with her arms as if she wanted to protect you. “I didn't expect to find her again.”

“Do you want me to kill her?” she asked, making a shiver run down your spine.

“What?” you asked scared. “N-No, of course I don’t,” you said, shaking your head effusively, moving away from her. “No, Donna.”

“Hey, if that stupid girl hurt you, why don't you let Donna punish her? She'll do it gladly, right?” Angie said, with a sinister voice.

You regretted thinking, for a second, your answer.

“No, um…” you said, blinking a little nervously. “I don't want you to hurt anyone.”

“Mm, as you wish,” Donna commented, impassive at the idea of ​​finishing off that girl, something you still hadn't quite gotten used to.

Donna was a Lord. After all, the lives of the village were at her will.

“The past is the past,” you murmured after a tense moment of silence. “I like the present much more,” you said as you sighed in relief, leaning back against the lady, who nodded elegantly.

“A very wise phrase,” she said, kissing you through her veil. “You know I would do anything for you, tesoro.”

“I know,” you said with a tender smile, not having the capacity to thank her enough for that protection, that promise of not letting anything, or anyone, hurt you ever, ever again. “It will be better if we forget it, okay, darling?”

“Va bene, your wishes are my commands,” she said, interlacing her fingers with yours. “Let's go home, it's cold today.”

“Yes,” you said, thanking the affectionate gesture, her sinister closeness that was so different from what you had experienced before.

Yes, Donna was dangerous, sometimes even terrifying, but she loved you. She really loved you.

During that quiet walk, you began to remember. You had said that the past was better off far from you, but you were only fooling yourself. That previous relationship was still very present in your memories.

You were never a normal girl, you were a bit withdrawn. It's not that you hated people or anything like that, you just didn't fit in. The villagers never isolated you or considered you a freak, and maybe that was your downfall. After years of voluntary solitude, you met a girl, a girl you fell in love with almost instantly, Becca.

It was your first relationship, an explosion of new emotions that at first made you seem like the happiest girl in that sinister place. Time passed and everything seemed perfect. But you had read too many stories not to start seeing similarities with the behavior of that girl who claimed to love you.

Like in that children's story, Becca began to neglect her lamb costume, revealing the dark fur of a fierce and hungry wolf. At first, they were just absurd arguments, ones in which you always seemed to be at fault.

You remembered the sleepless nights, wondering if you had really done something wrong to disappoint the girl you loved, if you were guilty, if you hurt her without realizing it. Acknowledging a guilt that you didn't fully understand became a habit, it became an easy way to stop the wolf from roaring.

But time didn't improve the situation, quite the opposite. That submission increased to the point you no longer asked yourself what you had done to deserve a scolding, accepting the reality of her words, bowing your head and asking for forgiveness.

Being so young, your character was deformed, turning you into something like a slave to her thoughts, her desires, a rag doll to be ordered around and tortured whenever she wanted.

Your friends began to be a problem for Becca. She herself urged you to abandon those innocent walks with the village girls, to put aside the only people who had always understood you. Of course, this unhinged behavior didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend, since she was the one who tried to open your eyes.

It didn't matter that you began to believe she was right, since, because of Becca, you stopped hanging out with her. Controlling you was her greatest hobby, torturing you was her only way to spend the time.

Submissive and obedient, you pleased that disguised wolf as much as you could, although as the months went by, you stopped receiving anything in return.

The screams, the senseless threats became routine. Every time you weren't with Becca, she acted, she marked your skin with slaps and warnings, making you believe that you were to blame for the blows you received. Your vision of reality didn’t change, even though your life was hell.

One day, Becca left you, she abandoned you. You remember the screams, the cries, the pleas. At that moment you were unable to see the level of pathos you were in, begging your tormentor for a second chance.

The pain, the suffering of having lost her was too great, you spent weeks crying inconsolably. Your parents were busy weaving and making fabrics, and your personal problems were of no importance when it came to helping them. Becca was a lovely girl in their opinion.

She was always a wolf in sheep's clothing, capable of deceiving even the shepherds, even the people who were supposed to take care of you.

You were crying as you walked, as you breathed, you were almost unaware of where you were going. It was not an ordinary commission. Those fabrics weren’t for Luiza or the Lupu family, no…

The landscape was changing and deep down you felt that you should be afraid, but you weren’t. The pain and the tears were much stronger than the fear of your destination, the Beneviento House.

The rumors about the lady in black didn’t sound in your head, you could only hear Becca's screams and insults. So much so, that you arrived at the house at the waterfall without being aware of the danger you were in.

The sobs accompanied the first encounter you had with the veiled lady, and, somehow, they aroused her curiosity. Chance was never your best ally, but, it seems that at that moment, it decided to grant you a favor.

“Those beautiful eyes don’t have to cry…”

You remember that whisper, that hoarse voice speaking through the veil, that voice unknown to the village, those hands that wiped away your tears. You always knew what she was, that she was a dangerous woman, that she was sick, that she was dark and soulless. Well, at least that's what it seemed to you.

Donna Beneviento, fourth Lord, seemed to take pity on your soul, something no one did, something no one had bothered to relieve. Your body, torn apart by tireless crying, yielded to the offer of tea, of telling her the reason for your tears.

So you did, or at least, you made it clear to her that a breakup was the cause of your problems. She didn't seem to give any importance to that, but she did to something, which, according to the lady, was terribly unusual: you didn't tremble in her presence, you weren't afraid.

That involuntary behavior granted you a second chance, granted you the love of someone you shouldn't love, who was cold as ice and dangerously disturbed. It didn't take you long to realize you were wrong.

Donna was quiet, but kind, attentive. The Angie doll was funny and eloquent, thus forming the counterpart the Lord was missing. Love arose from the ashes of your soul, which revived like a phoenix, hoping the fire would burn your past as well.

She was… beautiful, simply beautiful. Her complexes about her appearance were stupidity to you. Her deformed face was beauty itself, and you let her know that.

Laughter, whispers, kisses, caresses… Thus began a very different relationship, one in which you felt good, too good. Sometimes, just sometimes, you didn't feel worthy of so much affection, you didn't feel you deserved Donna, to calm her desire to love someone as pathetic as you.

After a few wonderful months with the lady in black, you finally realized. The sheep costume Becca was wearing became invisible. All those mistakes you thought you had made became injustices, all the slaps you thought were fair became abuse, mistreatment.

You regretted having cried for Becca, but, luckily, you would never have to face her again. To think that, perhaps after that unfortunate encounter, Donna protected you, was much more than you thought you deserved, even if her way of protecting… was kind of abrupt or sinister.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked closing the door of the mansion and removing her veil, a gesture you adored.

You nodded uncertainly, letting the lady's intense gaze stare into your eyes and her hands cup your face. It wasn’t easy to deceive her, you should know that.

“Your words tell me one thing, but your gaze tells me another, tesoro,” she said, with a tender voice, while her caresses comforted your nerves. “Please, tell me what's wrong.”

“It's nothing, Donna,” you said, lowering your head, joining one of your hands with hers. “It's just that meeting h-her… made me nervous.”

“I see,” the lady whispered, bringing her lips closer to yours, kissing you slowly. “She hurt you bad, vero?”

“Yes… but, but I prefer to forget about it,” you said with a fake smile, in case the desire to get revenge came back to her mind.

“It seems that it's hard for you,” Donna commented, with a slightly colder look. “Do you have doubts?”

“No!” you squealed nervously, shaking your head and making exaggerated gestures with your hands. “No, Donna, don't say that. I love you, and only you. Sometimes the past just hurts, that's all.”

The lady stared at you for a moment, but sighed in relief, coming closer and stealing another soft kiss from you, giving you a tender smile.

“Well, now you're with me, I'll protect you from pain, amore mio,” she whispered lovingly, wiping away a tear that was starting to run down your cheek. “Come, I'm going to prepare something for you to relax.”

“Thank you, darling,” you said with a sincere smile, expressing the love, the gratitude you had for the lady in black, the extreme fidelity you would always have for her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Angie interrupted, separating you comically. “Less cuddles, that doesn't make anyone happy. (Y/N), silly, all you have to do to be happy is play with me.”

You both kissed again, looking at the doll so she would growl angrily. Afterwards, the lady in black came down to prepare one of her relaxing teas and you had no choice but to spend some fun time with the doll.

You were grateful for all her love, her understanding, her sweetness, but your demons kept whispering to you, telling you that it wasn't fair, that you didn't deserve that special treatment, that love, those kisses, those caresses...

Luckily you managed to forget about your problems. Donna was lovely, she would always do everything possible to remove the sorrows from your soul, but with Angie... with Angie forgetting was much easier, since diverting attention could bring unpleasant consequences, like a scream in your ear, or, in the worst case, a bite.

The rest of the day passed like any other: glances, smiles, kisses, moments of quiet reading on her lap… Did you really deserve all that? You didn't think it possible.

“What are you doing?” you asked affectionately, when Donna moved to her desk, studying some papers.

“Mm, I'm going over my research,” the lady commented, concentrating on those essays written in elegant handwriting, with words that, unfortunately, you didn't understand. “There are too many mountain plants.”

“Oh, plants, of course,” you said amused, leaning down to kiss her cheek and earning one of her irresistible shy laughs. “Is it Mother Miranda's thing?”

“No, I've always found the power I have over these kinds of plants interesting, I want to know everything,” she explained, making you shrug with an amused laugh. “Look at this, it seems like a good essay to me.”

“Okay…” you sighed, taking the paper and frowning amused. “Um, Donna, I'm sorry but… I don't understand,” you said scratching your neck.

“Oh, certo,” she said, shaking her head and gesturing for you to sit on her lap. “It's part of my research with the new variety that appeared at the gardener's house.”

“Wow, so you don't only make dolls…” you said, stealing a quick kiss from her.

“To be honest, I prefer dolls,” Donna commented, leaving the papers in order, sighing tiredly. “Although I haven't worked on them lately,” she said in a different tone, frowning.

“I-I think that's my fault,” you said with a weak voice, knowing that you were the biggest distraction.

You couldn't be a nuisance or disappoint her in any way. Any mistake on your part was a cause for absolute sadness.

“Mm?” she murmured distractedly, not paying much attention to your self-accusations. “Perché?”

“Well... I'm always distracting you,” you said in a serious tone, with sincere apology. “You should pay less attention to me and more to your dolls.”

Donna turned her head with a confused look, but smiled, kissing you in a slightly wilder, deeper way, making you almost lose your balance.

“I like dolls more than plants,” she whispered in your ear, in a terribly sensual way. “But I like you more than dolls.”

You blushed, shaking your head as you comically ran away from her excessive affection, one that, you thought you didn’t deserve.

“You always say those things,” you murmured with a purr, playing with your finger on her chest, controlling your breathing. “You make me blush.”

“If I didn't, I would be doing something wrong,” she commented amused, brushing your hair away from your face, enjoying the touch of your skin.

“Oh, so I... am I doing something wrong?” you asked worried, making her move confused. “I-I can change, really.”

“What are you talking about, tesoro?” the lady questioned, studying your nervous gestures. “Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I...” you whispered embarrassed, looking away.

No matter how much time passed, your fears were still very present in your mind.

“Hey, (Y/N), you're shaking,” Donna whispered, taking your cold and shaking hands, looking at you scared. “Tesoro…”

“It's okay, Donna,” you said with a fake smile, removing your hands and looking for something to divert the lady's rational curiosity with. “What’s this?” you asked, reaching out to grab what looked like an old fashion magazine.

“Um, I think a catalog,” Donna said, being distracted by your clumsy actions and taking a look with you. “It's amazing, (Y/N), sometimes I don't even know what's in this house…” she sighed amused.

“They look like dresses,” you said, commenting on the images you both saw. “I didn't know you liked fashion.”

“N-No,” Donna said, gently shaking her head. “Not much…” she whispered, turning the catalogue over. “My mother used to enjoy sewing patterns. I suspect this magazine was hers.”

“Did your mother know how to sew?” you asked curiously, finally diverting your shaking hands from her head. “I guess like mother, like daughter, huh?”

“Mm, yes, you might be right,” the brunette said, glancing at you briefly as she turned the pages. “She was very good at making dresses, a-although she didn’t h-have much time to do so.”

“Look at this one,” you said quickly, masterfully keeping poor Donna from losing her mind, like every time she mentioned her past. Seeing her out of it was something you couldn’t stand, and you couldn’t control either. “It’s beautiful.”

“This one?” she said, distracted again, settling you on her lap. “Do you like this dress?”

“Yes, it’s simple, but elegant, I’d like to have one to wear it for you. Would you like that?”

 Donna smiled with a shy blush on her skin, looking away as she nodded.

“I would like you to do it... to make yourself pretty for me...”

Luckily, there were no problems that day, or that night. Everything had gone well and, as always when you went to sleep, you reviewed all your dialogues and actions with the lady in black, looking for some mistake, something that could make her angry. As for a long time, as always since you were with her, you found none.

Getting used to that kind, loving and selfless treatment was something that would take a lot of time, and effort, to accept. Becca's influence was still too great in your mind and the only thing you wanted, the only thing you would do anyway, was to forget about it.

The next day, everything seemed normal, although somehow, you noticed a certain nervousness in the lady in black, as well as an unusual urgency to return to the village to pay a visit to the Duke.

You knew she was up to something, and even though Donna was reluctant to let you accompany her, it was difficult for her to refuse your request.

Your demons were right, you didn't deserve her.

"I love walking with you," you whispered as you hung on her arm, walking slowly towards the village, feeling the warmth of her body, her protective presence next to you.

She laughed affectionately, kissing you through the black fabric. Of course you preferred her bare lips, but those discreet kisses outside the mansion, even in front of curious villagers, climbed the ranks.

“Wait for me here, tesoro,” she said when you reached the carriage while you politely greeted the merchant, who did the same with a greedy smile.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to think about whether to accept her order or not, but finally nodding, walking away from her, holding her hand until she let it go by inertia. It was becoming more and more evident that the lady had something up her sleeve, and you dedicated that moment of solitude to imagine what it was.

“(Y/N)?” a girl who passed in front of you, and whom you recognized instantly, stopped, looking at you with a smile.

“Ivana,” you said blinking several times, seeing, for a long time, your best friend in front of you. “Is that you?”

“It seems so, I could ask you the same thing,” the amused girl said, coming closer to melt into a loving hug with you. “(Y/N), I'm so glad to see you, it's been a while since... well, I haven't seen you around here.”

“I was at mass just yesterday,” you said, feeling comfort in the arms of your old friend, but separating shortly after. “Didn't you see me?”

“Um, no,” she said, frowning. “I guess we can't see much from our secluded spot,” she explained, something that made you nod.

“It's true, I was in the front row,” you said, scratching the back of your neck.

“How brave,” she joked, giving you a nudge. “Although, judging by what I've heard, I'm not surprised.”

“What are you talking about?” you said curiously, to which the girl turned her gaze to the Duke and the lady.

“I don't know what to say, (Y/N), there are rumors. They say you have something with Donna Beneviento,” she whispered in a low voice, pushing your back to get you a little away from them.

“The rumors aren't wrong,” you said blushing, glancing sideways at the lady, who seemed to be studying some fabrics. “I've been living with her for almost a year.”

“And you're alive? I mean, I don't think that...” your friend whispered, with a cautious tone.

“Of course I'm alive. Listen, Ivana, Donna isn't like people think,” you said, clearing the black shadows that surrounded the lady.

“(Y/N), they say she's a dangerous crazy woman,” she murmured, looking away from you.

“Donna's not crazy, she's sick,” you said annoyed, frowning. “B-Besides, that doesn't matter because she really loves me, she treats me well and she's not comparable to... you know...”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” Ivana said, with a distrustful tone. “Hey, I'm really glad you ended things with Becca, really, but I don’t know if you've chosen the right replacement.”

“She's the right one,” you hissed, clenching your fists, nervous about her lack of trust in the love of your life. “Donna is good, loving, kind and treats me well. Everyone says she's a monster, but they're wrong. Becca was a monster.”

“Oh, well... you're right about that, I mean, at least I know what Becca was like and her... well, I don't know her,” your friend said, without taking her eyes off the lady. “I-If you think you're okay with Lady Beneviento, I guess I have to support you.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, grabbing your friend's hands caressing them in a friendly way, with a warm smile. “Your support is very important to me. Maybe we should meet someday, and we can talk about it better.”

“I wanted to hear that for over two years,” Ivana said, changing her gaze to an amused one. “Maybe you're right, there's only one way to know... you, me, beer, Luiza's house…”

“Sounds nostalgically fantastic,” you joked, making both of you laugh in amusement, without letting your hands go.

Ivana's laughter faded in an instant, looking at something behind you, over your shoulder.

You shouldn't be surprised, since, behind you, was the lady in black, with the same calm, but threatening posture.

“Donna,” you said, approaching the lady and grabbing her arm, forcing her to take a couple of steps forward. “Look, this is Ivana, she's my best friend.”

“Hi, Ivana!” Angie squealed, waving effusively and getting out of her owner's arms. “What's up?”

“He-Hello,” the young woman stammered, greeting the doll back cautiously.

“It's been a long time since we last saw each other and…” you commented, but after doing so, the lady pulled away from your grip in an unpleasant way, indicating to the doll to get back up.

“Hey, silly Donna, I was chatting!” Angie protested, rudely silenced by the lady.

“Um… I'm sorry, Ivana, she doesn't talk,” you said embarrassed, moving towards the lady, who walked away without waiting for you. “We’re in touch, okay?”

Your friend nodded as you ran to the lady's side, with a cheerful smile, happy to have met Ivana.

“Hey, Donna, honey, wait,” you said running after her with an exaggerated gasp.

The lady turned to look at you, but it was for a very brief moment, as she continued walking, completely silent.

“W-Well… and… how was it with the Duke? Did you get what you wanted?” you asked as the tension began to fall on your shoulders slowly.

There was no answer, something that made you nervous. You were already in her territory, normally Donna would have said something, anything, but not that day.

“Donna, is something wrong?” you asked worried, taking her hand, catching her off guard.

The lady in black growled unpleasantly, breaking away from your grip again, walking faster.

“Donna, honey, what's wrong?” you asked nervous, more and more nervous.

She walked quickly, with Angie tugging at her dress, trying to get her attention for something. Donna didn't pay attention to her, and neither to your calls.

“Donna, wait,” you said agitated by the fast pace, with your heart beating so hard in your chest, that at any moment it would burst out of it.

Anxiety had already formed in your body when you entered the mansion. You knew something was wrong, you were sure, but you didn't know how to face it.

“Donna…” you whispered, moving closer to her as she removed her veil.

Her gaze was colder than an iceberg, and she looked away too quickly for you to interpret it.

“Donna, darling,” you said hastily, grabbing her by the shoulder before she walked away again. “W-Wait…”

“Lasciami,” she hissed in a dangerous whisper, moving abruptly so your hand would leave her body. “Non toccarmi.”

“What? Donna, please, what…”

Before you could finish your question, the lady growled again, quickly walking away towards the elevator hallway, descending to the basement without another word.

Confused, nervous, with your whole body shaking due to bad memories, from what that behavior evoked in your mind, you looked everywhere, searching for an answer.

“Uh-Oh…” Angie murmured, returning from the hallway.

The situation was strange; Donna had left her doll upstairs.

“A-Angie, what's wrong? What's wrong with her?” you asked, nervously playing with your hands. “Why is she acting like that?”

“I don't know,” the doll said, scratching her head comically. “She seems angry.”

“Angry?” you asked, approaching the puppet, who nodded slightly. “Is it that…? Did something happen with the Duke?”

“No,” Angie said, thoughtfully. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“T-Then…” you murmured, controlling your tremors, coming to a terrible conclusion. “It's because of something I've done… right?”

“What? You? What did you do?” the doll asked, dropping onto a couch.

You followed her, thinking that at any moment you were going to explode with anxiety.

“A-Angie… Was it my fault? I just… Oh, Gods, isn't it because I…? Did she get upset about Ivana?” you asked out loud, not finding any other reason that could explain her attitude.

The doll shrugged, making the tension almost unbearable.

“You and Donna don't share a mind?” you asked curiously, glancing at the elevator hallway.

“We do,” the doll said, in a passive tone. “But before you ask, no, I can't know what she's thinking. She learned a long time ago… how to put it, not to let me get involved in her business.”

“W-well, then I guess I have to talk to her. If I've done something wrong…” you said, getting up from the couch with a nervous gasp.

“No!” the doll screamed, standing in front of you with her arms outstretched. “No, silly!”

“Why not? I have to know what I did wrong,” you said, dodging the doll and walking back to the elevator.

“No, silly, don't go now!” Angie shrieked again, running to your side with her hands on your legs. “Wait a bit and she'll just get over it…”

“I…” you said confused. “Fine,” you whispered, glancing at the hallway and walking away, to which Angie sighed in relief.

Listening to Donna's inseparable companion was always the best option, but that time, that damn time, minutes passed and nothing changed. The brunette showed no signs of life, she was downstairs.

“I'm going down,” you said, throwing away the cards you were playing with Angie and getting up from the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey, am I talking to the walls? Leave Donna alone, you idiot,” Angie said, following you again.

“It's been more than an hour, no... I can't just leave it be,” you said, shaking your head and opening the elevator gate.

“Wait for me!” the doll shrieked, sneaking past you as you pressed the button. “Silly, it's not a good idea... come up, please.”

“No, Angie, if she's in trouble, I have to do something,” you insisted already in the basement, walking quickly to the workshop.

“You'll be in trouble if you disturb Donna now, stupid, listen to Angie, Angie wants to help you,” the doll said, pulling your dress.

You ignored her, opening the doors of the workshop.

The lady in black was sitting at her work table, staring into space, not moving. She didn't even turn her head when she heard you enter.

“Donna, Donna,” Angie said, pulling at her clothes. “Hey, Donna, don’t...”

“Taci,” the lady hissed in a hoarse, dangerous tone, making the puppet run back to your side.

“(Y/N), go away...” the puppet whispered, pushing you towards the exit.

Once again you ignored her advice, approaching the woman in black with a slow step, almost clumsy because of your nerves.

“D-Donna, my love…” you whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she pulled away with a sharp movement. “Honey, please…”

The lady didn't even look at you. She kept her eyes fixed on a seemingly unimportant place in front of her.

“Listen to me, I… I don't know what I could have done to offend you, but I beg you to forgive me, or at least tell me what…” you murmured with your voice broken by her indifference.

A loud bang made you step back, frightened. The lady in black hit the table with excessive force, causing several objects to fall to the floor.

“You want me to tell you what you've done…” Donna hissed, slowly getting up, her knuckles white from the strength with which she clenched her fists. “What have you done!? You dare ask me what you've done!?” she shrieked, making you retreat even further, being chased by her.

“Donna…” You sighed somewhat scared, burned by the fire that emanated from her furious, unhinged gaze. “I don't know what you're talking about, I…”

“You don't know anything, do you? You never know anything,” she growled, with a nervous tic that revealed her crisis. “You're always the submissive and poor (Y/N). How good and quiet you are, tesoro… Is that how you do things? Do you deceive people with that pathetic attitude and then stab them in the back?”

“Please, no…” you murmured in a weak voice, crashing into a wall, cornered in front of Donna, who kept stabbing you with her gaze.

The memories, your demons, your feelings… Everything dangerously resembled moments from your past, terrible moments.

“Please, no,” the brunette mocked, tilting her head with an unpleasant grimace. “Porca puttana!” she shrieked, hitting the wall with her fist, right next to your head.

You closed your eyes, breathing heavily and shaking your head. Tears traveled freely down your cheeks.

“Do you think you can do this to me, (Y/N)?” she hissed, not noticing your fear, your crying or your nervousness, with a threatening, delirious voice. “I turn around for a second, (Y/N), one fucking second! And what do I find? My girl flirting with a whore…” she said almost in your ear, with a look of hate that pierced your chest.

“No, it's not what you think,” you said with your voice distorted by tears, closing your eyes to receive her punishment, the punishment you always deserved. “She's…”

“You bitch!” Donna shrieked, hurting your heart and ears. “You're mine! Do you hear me? Mia!” she shouted closer and closer, with furious breathing. “Who do you think you are to cheat on me?”

“I haven't cheated on you,” you sobbed, covering your face instinctively.

“Liar! Bitch!” the lady shouted again, grabbing you tightly by the collar of your dress, shaking you roughly. “You're a slut! You don't even deserve me to fuck you out of spite!”

“Shit, shit,” Angie muttered, walking nervously through the workshop. “Donna, stop!”

“I should have listened to them, (Y/N). They were telling me the truth,” Donna said with a nervous laugh, loosening her grip. “They knew what you were, that you would cheat on me! I was fool enough to want to surprise you and make you a fucking dress… Vaffanculo!”

“No, no!” you screamed desperately, with your legs shaking, threatening to fail. “No, Donna, I love you!”

“You don't love me!” the lady shrieked, shaking her head, trembling too, completely out of her mind. “They know it, they tell me so...” she murmured confusedly, blinking erratically, alternating angry growls with delirious laughter. “Yes, they are right...”

“I'm sorry!” you screamed, letting your legs give out, falling hopelessly to your knees at her mercy, bowing your head. “Donna, forgive me! I have failed you, forgive me!”

“Oh, you admit it, how bold,” she growled, looking at you with contempt.

“I haven’t done anything! But, but if I have, I apologize... Donna, forgive me, please, I will do anything for you to forgive me!” you sobbed in desperation, clinging to her legs, dragging yourself pathetically, as you used to do with Becca.

“Ugh, lasciami, troia,” she hissed, pushing you to the floor, looking at you with a disgust that could make you faint. “Don't touch me, do you hear me?”

“Please, Donna! Forgive me! I beg you!” you shrieked, crawling to grab her ankle, something she prevented with a soft movement. “I'm sorry! I'll do anything to remedy my mistake! Anything!”

Donna shook her head, trembling, putting a hand on her forehead, as if her head hurt.

“Ok, that's enough, silly Donna,” Angie said, standing in front of you, as if she wanted to protect you. “Calm down, Donna, come on…”

“N-No… they… they talk to me, they whisper to me…” she said nervously, covering her ears while she moved nervously, as if she didn't want to hear invisible voices. “They…”

“They aren’t here, Donna, I’m here, look at me, look at me, come on, it’s Angie, your Angie…” the doll said, trying to calm her demons.

“Angie… tell them to shut up… make them stop!” the lady screamed, twisting on herself while you cried against the wall, with your knees on your chest.

“We’ll do it together, come on,” the doll said, moving her arms to distract the lady. “Recite, recite, Donna; it’s your favorite… Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle… Come on, come on, you know it!”

“E q-questa s-siepe, che da tanta parte…” Donna muttered, pronouncing with difficulty.

“That’s it! Go on, go on, they’ll shut up,” Angie encouraged, glancing at your pathetic figure. “Dell…”

“Dell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude,” she whispered, breathing, miraculously, calmer. “T-They've stopped…”

“Of course, good job, Donna,” Angie said excitedly, jumping up and down on the floor.

The lady made a gesture of pain, panting nervously and blinking, as if she didn't even know where she was.

“What…?” she asked disoriented, looking at you and frowning. “(Y/N)?”

“Look what you've done, Donna, you fool!” Angie shouted, running to your side. “Hey, hey, it's all over now, (Y/N)”

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” you repeated over and over again, unable to look the lady in the face, covering yours with your hands as your tears soaked your clothes. “Forgive me, Donna…”

“(Y/N), I…” she murmured, bending down, still breathing heavily. “Amore mio…”

“Don't, please!” you squealed nervously, backing away when Donna reached out a hand towards you, twisting you around to defend yourself from a possible punishment. “Don't hit me anymore…”

“Don't hit you?” Donna asked, shaking her head and struggling with your hands. “(Y/N), please…”

“You're stupid, Donna! You've lost your mind again!” Angie snapped, pointing at her in an unpleasant way. “You scared her!”

“I don't… Gods… no…” the doll maker stammered unable to calm you down. “(Y/N), no… I don't…”

“I promise I won't see her again, I promise,” you sobbed, letting her take your hands away from your face. “I know… you don't have to punish me, I'll do it myself…” you said nervously, looking for a solution to the problem, one you always had with Becca.

Nervous, ignoring the lady's grip, you got up, looking for something in the workshop, something that would make you pay the penance for having made her angry.

“What are you doing? Hey, no, don't do...” she said, approaching nervously when she saw you with scissors in your hand.

“I'll cut my hair, okay? I won't be pretty for anyone this way,” you said with a pleading laugh, grabbing a lock of hair, ready to pay for your mistakes.

“What?! Have you gone crazy?” Donna asked, running to snatch the scissors from you. “(Y/N), please stop... doing that...”

“It's the least I can do to make it up to you...” you sobbed, struggling with her, without success, she was always stronger than you. “It's what she would want...”

“She? What...? Gods, (Y/N)...” the lady sighed, leaving the scissors and grabbing you by the shoulders. “You're talking about your ex, right? Did she do this to you?”

“I deserved it,” you said with a broken voice, with a sore throat. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

“Basta, basta, per favore…” Donna pleaded, breathing nervously again. “I didn't want you to… Gods, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… I've lost my mind and I don't… cazzo… what have I done?” she lamented, putting her hands on her head.

“Screw things up as always, although I must admit that it is her fault for insisting,” Angie said, looking at her hands.

“Oh, cazzo…” Donna hissed, struggling with you to be able to hug you. “Amore mio, please, forgive me, I beg you… it wasn't me… I just… Gods… I'm not okay and… Oh, tesoro, please, I beg you… look at me…”

You obeyed, looking into her eye, at the extinguished, disappeared sparkle of rage.

“I just got jealous and… I lost control…” the lady explained, wiping away your tears while you were unable to utter a single word. “I never wanted to hurt you. I would never hurt you… I'm not like… her…”

“What a way to show it,” Angie said ironically, making you wake up from that nightmare.

“Aren't you going to hit me?” you asked, calming your crying, your fear.

“I would never do such a thing… you have to believe me,” Donna whispered, dragging your body towards hers, falling to the floor, cradling you, feeling her tears on your skin as well. “I'm so sorry, (Y/N), you should never have seen me like this… I'm sorry…”

“Donna…” you sobbed, letting her arms hug you, arms that you no longer feared, but that scared you, too much. “Donna…”

“Listen to me, I didn't mean to tell you those things… it wasn't me… if anyone deserves a slap, it's me,” she whispered as she cradled you, repentant, terribly hurt by her madness. “Come on, hit me.”

“What?” you said, looking up and shaking your head.  “No…”

“Do it, I deserve it,” Donna insisted.

Before you could refuse for the second time, a dull noise echoed in the workshop. Angie had taken that request as her own and had crossed the brunette's face, leaving her speechless.

“Ouch! Angie!” the lady shrieked, with a hand on her wounded cheek.

“She would never do it,” the doll said, amused, managing, after a while of suffering, to get a smile out of you. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you murmured, letting her affection pass through your skin, her apologies being heard by your ears. Becca never apologized.

“I told you that you shouldn't come down,” Angie said, while the lady lamented with her forehead next to yours. “Donna is sick and sometimes she hears voices that tell her horrible things. She is a jealous fool, but I swear to you by Giovanni Beneviento, my creator, that she loves you, and that she would never hurt you. I give you my word.”

“I…” you whispered, also calming the lady's crying. “You weren't upset about my friend?”

“Yes, but... I'm a stupid jealous thing... you have to forgive me... you have to...”

You cut her off with a kiss.

Maybe together, you could put an end to your demons.

[slicinanddicing]

— Roleplay Request.

Hey!

I'm currently looking for a roleplay of a specific version of a pairing; that being Poolverine, but it's Logan (2017)'s Logan and your traditional Wade Wilson from the Deadpool trilogy. Preferably DP&W Wade, with a changed plot/situation. Please don't base anything aside by humour or 4th wall break references to comics because I'm very uneducated on them. I've watched most of the movies (except Dark Phoenix and whatever came after).

This leads to me saying I'd like you (whoevers interested) to play Deadpool/Wade Wilson. I'd prefer 18+ roleplayers in case of anything explicit comes up in roleplay, whether it be something we act out or a skimmed over mention (knowing me, I'm not good at explicit roleplays, so we'll see.)

Things to know about me:

• I'm semi-lit and can go to literate, but it depends on my motivation or how the roleplay is going.

• I write in third person and mostly past tense.

• at times I struggle to come up with a response thus makes me take time with responding. Don't pressure me, gently remind me if it's been awhile.

• I'm currently not with many work hours but that could change so my availability is a bit flexible. I'll let you know.

• I'd prefer to roleplay on Discord. If you have any better apps, lmk.

I don't have a real plot in mind, a rough idea/scenario for how to start it. But nothing to keep the story going, so discussing the plot will be needed.

Also, I need to learn about your okay's and don'ts. Be firm with your boundaries, please. I'll insure to let you know if I can stick within them or not.

Thanks for reading. Hope you're interested.