#it won’t be the end of the world but I’d DIE with embarrassment

[randommusicalfluff]

Ok do y’all like ever see someone in the communities art and squint because you SWEAARRR you know them from somewhere outside of it

[bee-wg]

Year 3:

Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form. 

I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.

“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.

“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.

“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.

“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.

“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.

“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.

“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.

“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.

“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.

“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.

There might be an oversight of me quitting football.

It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.

How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?

“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.

Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.

My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.

Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.

No. Hard no.

Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.

Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.

Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

No? No, actually it might just work.

My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.

With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.

It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.

“Oh! First comment already.” I said.

“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”

3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.

The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.

The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.

I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.

“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.

“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”

“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.

“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.

“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said

“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.

“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 

“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.

“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.

Theo stares at us with wide eyes.

“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.

“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.

I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.

“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.

“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.

Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.

“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.

“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.

“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.

Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.

“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.

“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.

“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.

I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.

“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”

Huh?

Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.

I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?

So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.

With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.

The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.

It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.

On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 

My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.

I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.

***

Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.

I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.

Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.

Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.

I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.

After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.

"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.

Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.

“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.

His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.

“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.

“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.

“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.

I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.

He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.

“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.

“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 

He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.

“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.

I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.

Big mistake.

He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.

After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.

He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.

“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.

“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.

My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.

“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.

I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 

He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.

“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.

I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?

I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 

With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.

He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.

Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 

It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.

He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—

“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.

“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.

I must have been too loud and spooked him.

“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.

“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged

“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.

How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.

“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.

He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.

“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.

He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.

“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.

Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.

He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 

I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.

“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.

“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.

Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.

“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.

”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.

He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!

“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.

The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.

Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.

“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 

“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.

“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.

“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 

“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.

“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.

“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.

“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.

I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.

My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.

As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.

“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.

“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?

“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”

Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.

“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.

Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.

The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.

“Shit, I ran out here naked.”

When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.

When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.

***

Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 

The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 

With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.

Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.

Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.

***

“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.

He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.

“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  

The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 

“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.

“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.

Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.

The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.

300-350-392-400-443

Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 

With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.

“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.

I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.

Theo stepped closer and read. 

“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.

“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.

The scale made a “Pop” noise.

“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.

“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.

“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.

Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.

“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 

After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.

Chapter 4 ->

[perseephoneee]

Ice-scating with Diego Hargreeves please 🥺

ice skating (diego hargreeves x gn!reader) ficmas 2023

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 3 of ficmas!

a/n: sorry this one is so short, but i hope it still brings all the holiday fluff vibes that are necessary.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Diego glared at the ice skates in his hand, looking at the rink currently populated by families, teenagers, and even the geriatric population. He didn’t want to ice skate. He didn’t want to be here at all. Except that you wanted to ice skate because “the-world-is-ending-and-if-we’re-all-going-to- die-I’d-like-to-do-this-with-my-boyfriend-once.” He had never been that good at turning you down. He just also wasn’t that good at ice skating. You, on the other hand, were a freaking angel. Diego couldn’t peel his eyes away as he watched you glide across the ice, smiling. You even managed to turn backward and let the skates take you. He hadn’t seen you laugh in a long time. You ended up sliding right over to him, hands stopping your motion against the wall as you stared at Diego sitting on the bench. 

“Are you going to ice skate or what?” You raised a brow, looking at your boyfriend in amusement. 

“I’m working on it.”

“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” you chuckle, poking him in the shoulder as he swats you away. 

“I’m not,” he snaps, letting out a huff of air. “Just…never done it before. Don’t want to embarrass myself,” Diego mumbled. You leaned over and took his hand in yours, your mitten-clad hand enveloped in his own. 

“You won’t embarrass yourself; you have me,” you smiled before gesturing back to the ice. “Plus, Klaus is embarrassing himself all on his own.”

True to your word, Klaus was prancing across the ice like no one's business. It's not that he couldn't skate (he was excellent). He was acting like he had taken shrooms before getting on the ice. Knowing Klaus, he likely had. His arms were wiggling around as he balanced on one leg and spoke out loud the whims and wiles of the ice. You were glad he was having fun, even though Diego was annoyed that Klaus had invited himself (again) to another one of your couple activities. 

“Please? We can get hot cocoa after,” You pouted, and with an eye roll, Diego finally relented. He tied on the skates and wobbled to a standing position, hobbling over to the entrance. You held out your hands, reorganizing your stance so you could support him if he started to fall. Diego slipped a little as he grabbed the wall and your hand, a panicked sound leaving him. “You gotta bend your knees, don’t freeze up.” He let out a hiss, which made you laugh, but he hesitantly moved one foot in front of the other, letting the ice carry him around the perimeter. You skated right next to him, reaching out occasionally to keep him studying. Eventually, he started to relax, and you smiled as he got the hang of it. Diego laughed excitedly as he let go of the side wall. He even whooped as he made his first lap without any help. By the second time around, you skated and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with him. 

“Thanks for indulging me,” you said, looking up at Diego. He could be a stubborn ass at the worst of times, but he always made you feel supported in ways you hadn’t experienced before in your life. Diego brought your enjoined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. 

“Ice skating is pretty cool,” Diego admitted. “Manly, since it has blades.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you chuckled, waving as Klaus circled you. To cause mass chaos, which you were starting to think was Klaus’ mission in life, he reached out for Diego’s open hand and dragged the two of you behind him. This didn’t work out with the intended effect and instead led to all of you sprawling across the ice like a hockey accident. 

“Klaus!” Diego growled, reaching to beat up his brother. Klaus rolled away, sending an apology as he skated away. Diego crawled over you like a starfish on the ice as you lay. “Are you alright?” You smirked instead of answering, grabbing the front of Diego’s jacket and kissing him. 

“I’m perfect,” you laughed. Diego kissed you again before helping you up, letting you lean against him as you shuffled over to the side of the rink. “Should we get hot cocoa now?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Diego huffed, helping you off the rink and holding your hand to the hot cocoa stand the entire time.

[edenmemes]

tloz: tears of the kingdom starters

WARNING: spoilers !

❝ there doesn’t seem to be any danger at the moment. ❞ ❝ history and legend sometimes blur together. ❞ ❝ i think you’ve caused quite a stir since your arrival here... ❞ ❝ i think you do look weird. so there, chew on that. ❞ ❝ i feel like i should apologize for dragging you into this mess. ❞ ❝ there’s no need to get so worked up. ❞ ❝ you allowed your heart to falter. that is the quickest way to fall on the battlefield. ❞ ❝ i’ll fight by your side till the very end. ❞ ❝ as with any leader, it is my duty to safeguard and protect my people. ❞ ❝ you are burdened with a mission of monumental importance. ❞ ❝ it was my hubris that set us on this path. ❞ ❝ i get it, you’re young --- you feel invincible. ❞ ❝ i thought you had harder bark on you than that. ❞ ❝ this little village used to be as quiet as a dusty old tomb. ❞ ❝ i don’t know who you are, but i’m sorry you have to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i feel a lot better after talking to you. ❞ ❝ you should have seen the look on your face. ❞ ❝ please, no need to look so petrified. ❞ ❝ you’re alone too, right? alone is good. ❞ ❝ you have disgusting, unwavering commitment to do ‘good’. ❞ ❝ i apologize. i keep getting lost in my thoughts. ❞ ❝ you’re finding this all a little scary, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ did you hear me singing? how embarrassing. ❞ ❝ you might want to make other plans...if you value your life. ❞ ❝ i suppose fate really wanted the two of us to run into each other again. ❞ ❝ you use your power to crush the weak...to serve evil. ❞ ❝ you will die knowing that you failed. ❞ ❝ you heard that strange voice too, right? ❞ ❝ this is a lot to learn all of a sudden, i know. ❞ ❝ did you know if you put your ear to a well, you can hear the wailing of the dead? ❞ ❝ i see the shadow of death upon your face. ❞ ❝ it seems skill and confidence is in short supply. ❞ ❝ that pride will be your downfall. ❞ ❝ i’ve gotta say. your stories are always so wild. ❞ ❝ did i manage to keep a smile on my face? ❞ ❝ you take for granted the godlike power you have in your hands. ❞ ❝ nevertheless, i can’t shake this strange tightness in my chest. ❞ ❝ why do i get the feeling we’re being watched? ❞ ❝ sorry you had to listen to me go on and on like that. ❞ ❝ anyway, i’m sorry for teasing you. ❞ ❝ uh...what’s with the face? ❞ ❝ what was it you wanted to discuss with me in private? ❞ ❝ were you looking for me? i’m honored! ❞ ❝ one cannot accomplish great feats without allies at one’s side. ❞ ❝ it’s important to help each other in times of need. ❞ ❝ i hate the way rain feels, but i don’t mind how it sounds. reminds me of waves crashing on the beach. ❞ ❝ you look distracted. what’s wrong? ❞ ❝ things with ‘legendary’ in the title are usually just stories. ❞ ❝ do you really think i hadn’t realized your deceit? ❞ ❝ what are you doing in a place like this? ❞ ❝ i never thought i’d see such a marvel with my very own eyes. ❞ ❝ thank goodness. if something had happened to you...i... ❞ ❝ how did you find this place? what cruel ploy are you plotting? ❞ ❝ it seems that the world is still in a wretched state. ❞ ❝ enough is enough! you are not acting like yourself! ❞ ❝ i can see right through you, whether you want me to or not. you are yielding to the fear of losing someone you love again. ❞ ❝ i can see it in your face. i don’t hold that special place in your heart. ❞ ❝ light and dark - one cannot exist without the other. ❞ ❝ do not get lost in the past. you must keep moving ever onward. ❞ ❝ it is best when those who care for each other are open and honest, even when it is difficult. ❞ ❝ push yourself too hard and you become your own worst enemy. ❞ ❝ look at all those scars...you must have fought a lot in your life. ❞ ❝ i am hesitant to admit it, but our success was thanks to your support. ❞ ❝ you look very pleased with yourself. ❞ ❝ i was giving in to my fear of once more losing someone i love. ❞ ❝ hold still, and don’t fret. i’ll take care of everything. this won’t hurt a bit. ❞ ❝ did you think i’d deceived you? perish the thought. ❞ ❝ i’m always here. should you ever have need of me, you need only ask. ❞ ❝ it’s amusing, isn’t it? our little back-and-forths. ❞ ❝ i just don’t want anyone to drop dead right in front of me. that’ll give me some nasty dreams. ❞ ❝ there it is. that inexplicable smirk upon your face. ❞ ❝ what were you praying for? long life? wealth? ❞ ❝ you get even cuter when you’re blushing. ❞ ❝ it is all right. i swear it. i am not going anywhere. ❞ ❝ i never thought...never dared dream...that i’d live to see the day we could all laugh together again like this. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen enough faces in this job that i can tell from looking at one if someone’s lying to me. ❞ ❝ you’ll come visit me again, right? ❞ ❝ i hope that ours will be a long and profitable relationship. ❞ ❝ this must be what the end of the world looks like. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing wrong with asking if you can help, you know. ❞ ❝ i knew there was a bright smile in there somewhere. ❞ ❝ let’s not pretend it won’t look absolutely dashing on you. ❞ ❝ no matter. you will not live to see another sunrise. ❞ ❝ you cannot hope to escape your fate. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i know i’m always throwing you into dangerous situations. ❞ ❝ hear my name and tremble in fear. ❞ ❝ it seems you have met with great danger once more. ❞ ❝ i actually...secretly followed you. ❞ ❝ there’s no shortage of strange happenings these days. ❞ ❝ anyone tell you it’s rude to stare? ❞ ❝ sitting here feeling sorry for myself won’t solve anything. ❞ ❝ at my age...well, very little surprises me. ❞ ❝ there are more mysteries waiting for us down here, i know it. ❞ ❝ i’m only telling you this because you seem like a trustworthy sort. ❞ ❝ we are bound by fate, you and i. ❞ ❝ i’d have preferred to stay with you a while longer. ❞ ❝ you will have to do something about that fear eventually. ❞ ❝ now i live for vengeance. ❞ ❝ so you’re our saviour, eh? i thought you’d be tougher looking. ❞ ❝ sorry about that. the sadness just gets to me sometimes. ❞ ❝ you were involved, weren’t you? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry, i’m just surprised. i mean, you don’t seem all that strong. ❞ ❝ did i...see what i thought i saw? ❞ ❝ just forget it. it’s not important. ❞ ❝ we cannot afford to stand still at a time such as this. it is imperative that we act. ❞ ❝ disappointed that i wasn’t shocked and aghast at the very sight of you? ❞ ❝ you must be pretty strong beneath the surface. ❞ ❝ what happened? is this your doing? ❞ ❝ i can see right through you, whether you want me to or not. ❞ ❝ just watching you move, i can tell you’re no ordinary person. ❞ ❝ whatever is troubling you? why are you hesitating so? ❞ ❝ good...evil...that’s the futile perspective of narrow-minded beings. ❞ ❝ are you here because you’ve heard about me? ❞ ❝ one difficulty has been overcome, and yet another has appeared in its wake. ❞ ❝ once i rest up, i’ll be hitting the road again. i’ve stayed here too long as it is. ❞ ❝ we have to train. we have to get stronger. we have to get ready for what’s next. ❞ ❝ is everyone all right? nobody’s injured? ❞ ❝ i’m the one who made such a mess of things, after all. ❞ ❝ it is a mighty opponent, certainly, but we must not falter. ❞ ❝ what’s with that look? you don’t think i can do it? ❞ ❝ what’s the matter? you can tell me, weirdly handsome dude. ❞ ❝ why is everybody so quick to believe the silliest things? ❞ ❝ i dearly wish that i could believe what you are saying. however, at present...i simply cannot do that. ❞ ❝ wow, listen to me. with every breath, i spew out brilliance. ❞ ❝ for a long time, i have been concerned that you are holding yourself back. ❞ ❝ i feel like you weren’t getting what i was going for there. way to kill the mood. ❞ ❝ can’t talk my way out of this one... ❞ ❝ this is normally where i’d give you a chance to respond, but i’d like to talk about me instead. ❞ ❝ never forget that we are all standing beneath the very same sun. the only distance that matters is the distance between our hearts. ❞ ❝ i lost my head a little there. i’m not too proud of the way i behaved. ❞ ❝ i’m sure an answer will come to you. wisdom takes time. ❞ ❝ i must truly be getting on in years to have allowed a mere monster to catch me off guard. ❞ ❝ you really don’t know your place, do you? ❞ ❝ do you really think we hadn’t realised your deceit? ❞ ❝ you heart is like a chicken’s egg --- easily given but easy to break. ❞ ❝ your wounds were severe...i am relieved to see you escape death. ❞ ❝ i’m told that your skill in swordplay is unmatched. ❞ ❝ what, you’ve never heard of me? ❞ ❝ where were you? you disappeared on me so suddenly. i was worried sick. ❞ ❝ oh my. i’m surprised to hear you say such a thing. ❞ ❝ i wonder how many times we’ve met in our past lives. ❞ ❝ so what if you don’t say what you really think. i won’t hold that against you. ❞ ❝ though our time together has been brief, i am so happy that we finally met. ❞ ❝ what’re you thinking, strolling into this war zone? ❞ ❝ you’ll keep your trap shut if you know what’s good for you. ❞ ❝ i sense a fierce battle ahead, the likes of which we have never before faced. ❞ ❝ i can feel the moonlight pouring down, cleansing my spirit. ❞ ❝ you’re not needed round here any more. ❞ ❝ that mystery just leads us straight into another. ❞ ❝ it is very difficult to rest peacefully when things like this happen. ❞ ❝ sometimes i’m so smart, i scare myself a little. ❞ ❝ ever try getting info out of a boulder? well, that boulder’s ME. ❞ ❝ i prefer to keep work and my personal time separate. ❞ ❝ sure, you look like a strong breeze could blow you over, but you are solid as stone. ❞ ❝ that pride will be your downfall. ❞ ❝ i’ve been abandoned by love...by luck...by happiness. ❞ ❝ at last...i have been waiting for you to arrive. ❞ ❝ i am stunned. i am in complete and utter awe with you. ❞ ❝ despite all we have endured, my feelings for you have never altered. they never shall. ❞ ❝ am i some sort of villain? or a force for good? ❞ ❝ i’m just fated to be unhappy. steer clear or you’ll catch my misfortune. ❞ ❝ you’re your own worst enemy sometimes. ❞ ❝ i will crush any opposition. i will rule. ❞ ❝ that’s an old dangerous road absolutely crawling with monsters. ❞ ❝ now that you’ve seen it, i can’t let you live. ❞ ❝ you look like a gentle soul who wouldn’t hurt anything. ❞ ❝ my body...my mind...everything. i’ll sacrifice it all to destroy you. ❞ ❝ i had almost forgotten the thrill of battle. that feeling as blood surges in my veins... ❞ ❝ i bet evil always scatters when you show up. ❞ ❝ it’s important to remember that luck and love aren’t things that run out. sometimes they just take the long way to get to you. ❞ ❝ i’m gonna make my ancestors proud today. ❞ ❝ this world should be shrouded in darkness, not bathed in insufferable light. ❞ ❝ it would have been more...satisfying to overcome a worthy foe. ❞ ❝ a mere mortal will not stand in my way. ❞ ❝ you’d walk away...from someone in need? ❞ ❝ you have proven yourself, and you no longer need me. ❞ ❝ i have some heartbreaking news to share. this will be tough to bear, but i ask that you stay strong. ❞ ❝ you might think of this as ‘hush money,’ and...yes. that’s what it is.. ❞ ❝ now, let’s both pretend like this never happened. ❞ ❝ you might think i’m a hopeless coward...and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong. ❞

[arachnixe]

A Better Family

(Part 2 of Night’s Longing - Previous: Den of Depravity)

A man kneels on a stone floor, coughing blood. His face is a battleground of despair versus anger, and he clenches his fists in a futile gesture of resistance.

“If it helps, I’m sorry in my own way. I’d hoped to let you live, but I cannot do that if you will not play your role in this story.” A figure, cloaked in darkness, circles the dying man like a vulture.

“Damn you, Alucard. I should have known it was you. I see now it was always you. The count—” Another coughing fit interrupts him. “I won’t let you get away with this.”

“You are not in much of a position at all to ‘let’ me do anything, Morris.”

“I can still… curse with the best of them. Enough blood here for it, at least.” The man puts a red, dripping hand to his forehead and breathes a prayer. “By the bloodline of the Boltman clan, I curse you. We will wipe your progeny from the world. When you die, it will be at our hands. On my life, I swear it. In the name of my family I do hereby vow. We will be your end, Dracula.“

In a flash of light, the man collapses. Somewhere far away, a child wakes up from a nightmare of his father dying, his face wet with tears.

---

I, on the other hand, wake up with a smile on my face. Get wrecked, old man. If I have to suffer your curse, at least I have the consolation prize of playing dream witness to your embarrassing last moments on your knees again and again. It’s a damn shame, I think, that one of my ancestors apparently was successful at killing Dracula at some point. Wasn’t enough to end the curse on my family, though. I guess we are supposed to kill every last vampire to fulfill the prophecy.

That won’t happen if I have any say in it. I am determined to be the last of my line.

“Wait, she’s awake again already?”

“What did I tell you? This girl is the best.”

I open my eyes, blinking through the haze and trying to reorient myself. It’s still night, and I’m lying across the laps of two beautiful women in a dimly lit booth. I only recognize one of them. “Hey, Vicky. Who’s your friend?”

“Not totally with it yet,” the stranger observes.

“Come on. You met Liz already, remember? My sister.”

“Right, the hot sister.” That rings a bell. I sit upright with Vicky’s aid and position myself comfortably between the two vampires. I’m still feeling a bit dizzy, and my limp neck struggles to prevent my head from lolling to the side. “Gonna have to get some calories and iron in me if you want to go again before morning.”

“Already got a big steak coming your way, Hanna. Extra rare, just how you like it.”

I can’t believe there’s a nightclub in this city that serves steak of all things. This place rules.

“Ooh, she does have good taste. Twice over, even.” Liz rewards my quality opinions with a kiss on the lips and a lustful squeeze of my boob. While she continues occupying my mouth, Vicky runs her hand up my thigh and takes a long, lingering lick from my collarbone to my jaw. The way they treat me like a premium cut of meat makes me shiver in anticipation of what’s to come later tonight.

I’m too distracted to notice when my own meal arrives until the smell reminds my stomach that I’m starving.

“Oops, looks like they thought that was for one of us,” Liz says.

No sides on the plate, just a fat fucking slab of barely seared beef swimming in blood—is that human blood?—in a presentation clearly intended for vampire clientele rather than a living human. This place must be damn fancy by vampire standards. Or maybe it’s just that full moon excess at work.

I’m drooling, too hungry to fret about the details. If Liz thinks a little blood is going to put me off my appetite, I’m happy to prove her wrong. I demolish the whole thing in record time, ripping chunks of flesh apart with my teeth and happily sipping the mixture of blood and beef juices until I clean the plate and give Liz a little wink in response to her shocked expression.

“And here I thought a place like this would have an aversion to stakes.“

Vicky laughs uproariously. It’s a universal truth that no vampire can resist puns about themselves.

“I’ve never been so turned on in my life,” Liz says. “You’re telling me she’s really a—“

Vicky hisses an interruption. “Not here. Don’t yell at me about taking a stupid risk and then turn around and talk about it in public!”

I’ve inferred that if a certain someone in a position of authority were to learn about me being a vampire hunter in their midst, I’d be in real danger. I’m durable, but I’m not invincible, and besides, the last thing I want to do is to have to kill a bunch of vampires who think they’re just protecting themselves.

There must be a way to earn some measure of trust from the clan, show them that I’m not a danger, that I’m not like my hateful family.

“What if I found a way to prove myself?” I ask. “Make some big show of loyalty that can’t be ignored. It’s all well and good for me to repeatedly give myself to a couple of the hottest women I’ve ever met, but I don’t think anyone’s gonna believe that’s an act of altruism, per se.“

Vicky nods, stroking my cheek with affection. “You’re a freak for sure, but that’s not quite enough on its own.”

“You could wipe out one of, uh… your kind’s cells,” Liz suggests. “One that’s been directly a problem for us. That would go a long way.”

My heart skips a beat at the suggestion. Wipe out. She means doing some straight-up murder. There’d be no coming back from that, but that’s the point, isn’t it? That’s what makes it a perfect test of loyalty. If I really want to make a difference, do some real good for the world, and spit on my family’s name in the process, here’s the perfect mission.

I lean back in the booth, turning my body to the side to face her directly. “Do you know of any specific one that would fit the bill?”

“It’s my job to know these things, my dear. Though I want to enjoy your company in full before I send you out on an obvious suicide mission. The cell I’m thinking of is run by a Boltman, which is a name that should strike fear into even your heart.” She squeezes my knee. “Of course, I wouldn’t blame you for changing your mind after hearing that.”

Vicky didn’t tell her, then. Or maybe she didn’t recognize the specific family affiliation identified by my tattoo. Not sure how to bring that up myself, so maybe I won’t just yet. Still, the name doesn’t change anything, really. It only helps me solidify my own feelings. I feel my face settling into an serious expression just shy of a scowl. “Quite the opposite.” My hand clenches into a fist. “I’m eager to take that family down most of all.”

---

There’s a difference between knowing of a hunter cell and knowing where to find it, of course, but I do have some advantages the vampires lack. I’m trained in several different hunter codes, naturally including the Boltman family’s.

Graffiti marks the location of safehouses, with special markings and modifications signaling how recently it was still believed to be uncompromised and whether other hunters are welcome. Some markings warn of nearby vampire dens with an estimated population count and risk level. Others hint at stashes nearby.

I meander the streets until I spot the first such sign: a stash. A false brick in an alleyway conceals some frozen sunlight and a silver chain. Smash one, pocket the other to pawn later, then keep looking. Where there’s one sign, more will be around the area.

The first safehouse I spot is unoccupied. Not too much of a surprise there; we keep plenty of redundant ones in case someone gets followed. Lucky break, though, someone has used it recently, and decoding the log book gives me clues about where to check next.

It takes only a few days to close in on the cell’s current location, and then no time at all to convince the guard to let me in. I know all the right words, and I flash them the tattoo that marks me as one of theirs. They have no reason to doubt me.

“Hey, Carlo!” The woman who lets me in shouts louder than I think reasonable. “This a cousin of yours or something?”

A shirtless man taking swings at the punching bag in another room stops what he’s doing, wipes the sweat off his face with a nearby towel, and approaches the two of us. He looks me up and down for a moment before responding.

“Not one I’ve met before.” He extends a hand. “Carlo Boltman.”

“Hanna.” I shake his hand. “Boltman too, that is.” I lift my shirt to show him my tattoo, a perfect match for his. I’m also dressed for the occasion in my hunter’s garb: strategically armored, belt full of essentials, and with knives and stakes strapped to me in easy to reach places. The leather gorget at my neck bears the seal of Clan Boltman, one repeated on my bracers and embossed on the back of my silver pendant.

“Hanna? Just like…?” Carlo turns and shouts toward another room. “Hey, Uncle Dan, come out here.”

Does everybody here feel the need to shout instead of walking over to—

“Well, well, well, the prodigal daughter returns to the fold. And here I thought you were content to steal from me and fuck off to a life of leisure.”

“Daniel. How good to see you well.” I keep my voice measured and composed, if icy, while addressing my father. I will not show him weakness. “I was unaware you considered it stealing to take the weapons and armor that were crafted for my measurements and with which I had grown accustomed during my training. I mistakenly assumed my father would bless his daughter with the tools she needs to strike out on her own and practice the family trade.”

He laughs. “Well, if you really have taken up the family trade in this godforsaken city, I may be willing to look past your transgressions. Tell me, how many vampires have you successfully hunted so far?”

“Five,” I reply without hesitation. “Two at once just a few days ago, in fact.” The smile of satisfaction I give him is even honest.

“Hmm.” He grunts. “Inadequate, but I do believe that’s within your capabilities. Be glad you didn’t try to lie to me.”

I almost pity Carlo, eyes darting back and forth at the two of us in our chilly confrontation. While it’s clear my father must have mentioned me before, it seems he wasn’t prepared for the truth of our strained relationship.

“I thought Carlo here would be the leader of this outfit, but I know you better than to assume you’d allow anyone else to call the shots when you’re around. So why don’t you tell me what you’re planning so that I can lend you my aid and we can part ways again?”

Daniel smirks. “No, this is my dear nephew’s mission. While I have graciously volunteered some input, I would never undermine the judgment of a fully trained and independent vampire hunter of our clan.”

We glare at each other for several silent seconds before I turn my gaze to my cousin. With a rueful grin, I say to Carlo, “I’m sorry about all this. You don’t deserve to be caught up in this kind of bickering. Would you brief me on what your group has planned?”

Carlo looks back toward my father, who gives a stern nod. “Well, first you need to know that we caught word Clan Sarthe is planning something big. ‘Resurrection of Dracula’ big, in fact.”

“You can’t ‘resurrect’ a vampire.”

My father snorts his disapproval with me. “Dracula is no run-of-the-mill vampire, girl. He’s the damn source of it all! And if you don’t want your job to get a whole lot harder, you won’t rest on your laurels hoping whatever ritual those bloodsuckers are planing is a dud.”

“Right,” Carlo continues. “We don’t want to take any chances. Which is why I called in a real veteran,” he gestures at Daniel, “and why we’re gearing up to hit the main hive.”

Leading me across the room, he unfurls an old-fashioned paper map of the city. That’s certainly my father’s influence; he is convinced all the tech companies are in the pocket of Big Vampire. I recognize a good number of the circled points on the map: several major dens I’m familiar with, including the Carmine. The circle he jabs at, however, is new to me.

“Warehouse district?”

“Right. The entrance is an unmarked building. We believe it leads to a network of tunnels that sprawls… well, we don’t know how far they go, but we’re pretty sure we can expose a lot of vamps to some surprise daylight with strategically placed explosives in the area.”

The plan is vile. The more he describes it, the gladder I become that I’m here to put a stop to this before they hurt any more innocents. I’m not even sure it would work, but a lot of vampires would die either way.

I nod thoughtfully and play my role, offering suggestions as though I intend to let them attempt this cruel scheme. I introduce myself to the other members of the cell, mostly ordinary people rather than true hunters. I don’t bother learning their names. The more time I spend around people like this, the more my own humanity disgusts me, the more apart I feel from all of them.

These people are not my real family. I know where I belong.

At night, most everyone falls asleep. The one exception, aside from me, is the guy keeping watch, just starting his night shift. The man doesn’t watch his back at all, and I quietly slip behind him and slit his throat.

It’s a nice safehouse, with enough rooms for everyone to have their own place to sleep even with six of us here. Better still, the walls are thick enough to muffle any brief struggle someone might offer, but I won’t need to rely on that as long as I hit them quickly and effectively. Fortunately, I am well trained in where and how to stab someone to prevent them from raising an alert.

Inside the first bedroom is the sweet girl who let me in. She sleeps on her back. I crush her windpipe, and in the same fluid motion I stab her through the heart. Her blood soaks the sheets without so much as a squeak of distress.

The second bedroom is where things go wrong. Carlo is awake, with someone going down on him. He’s too distracted to notice my entrance right away, but I don’t get far before he starts to yell.

My knife sails in a graceful arc from my hand into his eye socket. I dive forward, drawing another to stab through the sheets into the back of the nobody fellating my cousin. Carlo scrambles, losing blood, clearly in a panic, and I drive my second knife up through his diaphragm. Soon he too collapses.

That shout. There’s no way it didn’t wake Daniel up. After weighing my options, I choose to dash from the room yelling, “we’ve got company!”

Perhaps my father really is a sentimental old fool to the end. He bursts from his own room, armed with the famous family blade, and as I watch him scan the hallways holding that sword of his aloft, he shows no suspicion whatsoever toward me.

“How many, Hanna?”

“Two, I think. No idea how they got in.”

He swears under his breath, moving past me to peek into Carlo’s room, trusting me to watch his back. “Shit, Hanna. At least I’ve got you here. I never told you this, but—“

It’s all the opportunity I need to drive my dagger into his neck. I lever it back and forth to really shred his carotid artery and send his blood spraying like a fountain. Fuck that feels good. Oh, that really feels good.

On an impulse, I lean forward and catch the spray of blood in my mouth. It’s not like I draw strength from it like a proper vampire, but I’ve learned to love that salty, metallic flavor in my own way, and today it tastes like my freedom from this damn family of mine.

“Fuck you, dad.” I smear crimson victory across my face and laugh with sheer, manic joy. “I’d tell you to go to hell, but you always said that’s where all vampires go when they die for good.” I slice deeper, all but severing his head, then follow up by stabbing him again and again in each vital organ. Can never be too sure with a vampire hunter. “I’m sure, whenever I end up dying, that’s where I’m going too. And I’d rather not have you around while I’m spending my afterlife with everyone I ever loved.” I spit on his body. “If hell is my fate, then you can go to heaven or go to oblivion, but wherever the fuck you end up, go there without me.”

I grab my phone and text my family to let them know that there are some rapidly cooling bodies for them to enjoy if they’re feeling peckish. Also, I’ll appreciate their help taking some photos and videos to document my beautiful sins.

[fairmoephelia]

WHAT’S GOD TO YOUR WIFE?

tumblruser maybecowboycore // ethan carlson // phoebe bridgers // soul eom // ethan carlson // richard siken // ethan carlson

[image description: seven images that read and appear as follows.

1. “What’s heaven to a woman’s love anyway? What’s God to your wife?”

2. “All my life, God, where were you? Never there for me, never there for me. Now, there is Naomi. She is my God. Oh, I love her”

3. “But you know I’d stand on the corner embarrassed with a picket sign, if it meant I would see you when I die”

4. an oil painting of a man and woman embracing, the man is kneeling before the woman with his head in her lap, his face turned to the audience. the woman is folded over the man, her hands resting on his head and neck. the man appears nude from the waist up, the woman is dressed in a blue shirt and skirt. the painting has a dripping quality to it where the woman’s hair falls down the man’s back.

5. “Who do you think I pray to? And bow down in my dreams? Who do you think I want to meet me down upon my knees?”

6. “They want you to love the whole damn world but you won’t, you want it all narrowed down to one fleshy man in the bath.”

7. “Making you appear to be the king of a castle, when really you’re a man, when really you’re just mine”

end ID.]

[mommalosthermind]

I’ve gotten a handful of ‘she talks fanfic with her kids? She knows her kids preferences? I’d die of embarrassment. Wild.’

And Y’all. I get it, but also, do you know how sad that is?

Some of that is a hold-over from when it was considered a literal mental disorder. Women were fired, divorced, had their children forcibly stolen from them, were institutionalized. For reading fanfic. It was an extreme taboo with extreme consequences if the wrong person found out you were reading about Kirk and Spock, for fuck’s sake.

Some of that is just the shame the greater world or your own family have pressed deep into you over your interests. You learned not to share anything you love, that way it can’t be used to hurt you.

Some of that is an extension of folk assuming all fic is the porniest porn to ever porn, and the purity resurgence is screwing with your brain.

I get that, I do. I was the kid who’d get right in your face and out-cruel people who’d shit on things I showed an interest in, but I still won’t tell my mother what I write. That’s mine, and I shouldn’t have to fight anyone about it.

But I was also the kid who never had anyone to talk to. Never had anyone to be excited with.

Why wouldn’t I be that person for my own kids? Why would I NOT want to know what fandom’s eating them up today? Which character won’t stop clawing at the walls in their heads?

Why wouldn’t I take full advantage to give them a place where they can be happy? Excited? Where they can SHARE the things they love?

And, frankly, it’s always a wild ride to see what catches them. My eldest (14) writes the most violent things. They like to take characters and break them even more than canon did, and see all the ways they can put that character back together. Do they realize they’re exploring trauma, recovery, human relationships? Fuck no, but I do, and when we talk through it, we can talk about all those things. They like to write about love that transcends everything else. Unconditional acceptance. That means I’m doing something right somewhere, because it’s so intrinsic to how they think.

The middle kid, (12), he likes to write fantasy self insert epics. He gets to be the overpowered guy who also gets the guy at the end. He’s enjoying really breaking down the fight scenes, how the weapons work, spies and double-crossings, magic powers, shit like that. But what he’s also writing is found family. Getting angry and overcoming it. Looking at a shit situation and committing to making it better. Standing up for yourself, for those who can’t stand up for themselves. He’s allowing himself to be loud in a way he doesn’t usually in real life.

Do you know what I got when my therapy-mandated anger journal was purposely unearthed and read by my mother? I got the shit kicked out of me. My kid seeks me out. He sits in my lap as best a 12 year old who is taller than me can, and he goes, hey can we work through this scene I wrote when I was mad together?

Why wouldn’t I want to be part of that? It’s the same for what they read. I want to know. They’re excited! They have thoughts and ideas and guesses and why would I ever make them feel like they’re not allowed to be happy about the things they love?

They’re reading same-sex, bi, trans, ace, aro experiences, and those are helping them find the labels that fit themselves best right now. I want to be part of that, I should be part of that. They should know this bedrock is unconditional because it fucking well is.

I’ve been told my entirely-Blasé approach to sex is weird, and it probably is, especially in the current purity bullshit. But also: sex happens. Sex ed is so laughable here I was told tampons will kill me and I thought babies came out of the belly button until i was like ten. I’m very open with my kids about all of these things because it’s important. They need to know. They need to feel safe talking to me about it. No matter what the fuck it is.

I dunno guys. I know why so many folks’ immediate reaction is “oh fuck no I would never,” but have any of those folks considered being the wall? Keeping all that shit behind them so the next crop of kids gets to have something better than we did?

Let the kids around you be kids in a way you weren’t allowed.

TLDR: Don’t talk about things you love to people who use that to hurt you. But maybe realize you can be the person someone else goes to just to squee.

[chronicwhorebatman]

What are your headcanons for Poison Ivy?

i adore rogues asks and would kill for you in a heartbeat

okay so first of all if she’s not green i don’t fucking want her <3 or like part plant in some way? i’ll forgive a skin colour if part of her body is an actual plant

(i think she should be full of chlorophyll and sunbathing)

she’s one of exactly four redheads in gotham! (also including babs kate and eddie) she cannot do undercover ever but that’s fine with her. she’s got red hair, green skin, and seething rage. she doesn’t need undercover she needs to cover the world in plants until every human being and all technology dies. sometimes she’ll settle for some buildings though it depends on her mood.

she absolutely personally tailors her clothes as plants but they’re actually just growing out of her. yes she looks like she’s wearing a dress in the shape of a pitcher plant but that’s actually more her. come closer. come closer. slide your hand down her dress. she’s daring you. it definitely won’t dissolve your hand in any way shape or form. and even if it did, obviously it’s your fault for shoving your hand down her dress. don’t worry about it. you didn’t really need that hand anyway.

her palms + the underside of her arms are, like, poison ivy. same effect. just that though (because i like harlivy and i’d like them to hug).

it’s either her lips are poisonous or the layer of poison she applied to them are poisonous. who’s to say? it depends on her mood and what day it is and what the weather is and

her ultimate goal is to overrun the entire world with plants and everyone dies, the end. however she can be reasoned with. however if you kill a plant that’s it you’re fucking dead.

ivy enacts a clever tactic of lacing her direct murderous raged w murder/mind control via seduction so people are less worried about her. this worked for about five years before people figured out what she was doing. she still uses the seduction technique sometimes (the lust pollen generally helps) because mind control is useful, and it’s funny to watch someone passionately kiss her then die of poison.

MOST OF THE TIME THOUGH she’s like some deranged plant monster because that’s who she feels she is a lot. losing limbs to vine shaped things. body indistinguishable from whatever plant shaped dress she’s wearing. the whole area is thickly coated in plants at all times and all of the are deadly and alive. her eyes are glowing a little bit. she is wrath. fuck batman, SHE is vengeance. she is the death of every plant turned on people. she’ll pull a vine attached to each limb until it rips you apart. there is no escape.

this is getting long so!! more under the cut!!! gets more into methods + personality + relationships down there

sometimes when she’s looking for distractions she pours out cuddle or sex pollen. it makes a VERY efficient distraction but also sometimes she does it because the mob planted a whole bunch of trees to ask her to do so/because she owes another rogue a favour/she wants them to owe her one/she wants to and it’s funny

she speaks well enunciated and kind of snobbish sometimes? she looks down on everyone because they’re, like, people, and she’s the enlightened plant. you know how it is. this later changes w harley and harley ONLY

SPEAKING OF HARLEY. ivy cooperates w batman sometimes because he has the power to make WE do what he wants (she’s pretty sure he’s fucking bruce wayne or that lucius fox is helping him) and makes treaties. on his end they last until he can find a better deal, on her end they last until she perceives part of it has been broken or she goes back to arkham. (i know i said speaking of harley but BEAR WITH ME.) this generally prevents some ecoterrorism and saves batman the embarrassment of having to call up someone to fuck when she inevitably hits him with sex pollen. it also saves him from terrifying robin when he gets hit with cuddle pollen and, like, tackles him to the ground. (side note, i adore cuddle pollen being used in a genuinely terrifying way). later on when batman has like seventy kids she’s less of a villain but she’s not redeemed and neither is harley!! they’re still villains but they’ll team up w the bats sometimes. they’re also opportunists! (i got to the harley part)

as i’ve mentioned above i believe harilvy happens but THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT THAT. this is abt IVY and IVY ALONE.

ivy absolutely fucking despises the joker and yeah it’s partly the harley thing but also HIS FUCKING CHEMICALS EAT THROUGH BIOLOGICAL MATTER, INCLUDING PLANTS. they’re in a war about it. harley’s hyenas (brucie, pam, puds) all like the joker differently and pam fucking hates him, much like her namesake <3 joker inevitably tries to bribe her into not killing him because he’s in the middle of his latest ‘get batman to fuck me’ plan so they’re kind of frenemies. you know how it is.

she is every plant in gotham. it would be every plant everywhere but she keeps getting thrown in jail and it’s slowing her down a bit :/

like, someone could kick a tree and the tree is fucking alive even when she’s in goddamn jail and will hit you back. a child picks a flower and the flower fucking bites them.

that said it also has a flip side! looking after/planting plants means that maybe when you’re about to trip over a tree root it’ll move out of your way. the plants can thank you.

here’s a scenario i just made up w/ ivy and the justice league where she’s gone full plant. idk the context. imagine it yourself

“Hey, B, I can’t tell the difference between plant and woman.”

“You’ll be surprised how little it matters.”

sometimes she’s nice to batman and his shark repellent will work on her plants. sometimes it won’t! this is when she’s mad at him. she gets mad abt things he struggles to predict because sometimes he’ll have stepped wrong on a blade of grass and she’ll be mad at him on a drop of a hat and sometimes he’ll like. rip her whole arm off because he couldn’t tell what was vine and what was arm and she’ll be like “if you’re taking me back to arkham you better plant a tree. no. fifty trees.”

she blames batman for a lot of joker’s plant related crimes for not stopping him. he hasn’t complained yet tbh and the joker gets really whiny when she’s mad at him. he’s like a sad wet cat if that cat was a clown.

(the shark repellent thing is because it doesn’t damage the plants, because her plants are not sharks. it just feels slimy and the texture is enough to make the plants withdraw.)

she’s sometimes, like, will just fling robin around a bit or dangle him upside down. she might also play cards with him or whatever. other times she’ll hit him with cuddle pollen. she has yet to hit him w lust/sex pollen but that’s because when batman notices her using a lot of it he brings out robin’s fabricated flower allergy to bench him. when she’s in a “throw sex pollen at my problems” mood he’s not certain how far she’ll go.

ivy will use a gun sometimes if there are no plants around because she’s not completely incapable on her own. idk why someone would’ve thought that, might be the ecoterrorism and plant theme, but who’s to say?

[thedeathlysallows]

memento mori

Warning: this chapter contains dark, sexual content

Ch.5: Mars

           She’s close to breaking.

           I can smell it on her.

           Roseanna, my sweet little poison ivy, my darling, is so close to breaking that it almost feels unfair that she hasn’t made it longer.

           “I won’t fuck you,” I say as I slip my hand under her robe, enjoying the way her heart stutters and the blood rushes to her cheeks. “But I can think of some other ways to spend our time.”

           She shakes her head, fear flashing in her eyes. “Don’t.” Her hand grasps my wrist as if to stop me. As if she could stop me. “You can’t.”

           “I can’t?”

           “No. I’d be-”

           The words die in her throat when my fingers graze against her bare thigh. She’s much softer than I could have possibly anticipated, her skin feeling like smooth silk under my fingertips.

           “You’d be what?” I whisper the words in her ear. “Say it.”

           Roseanna whimpers, distracted by my touch. “Compromised.”

           “Oh, darling. You were compromised the moment I saw you. Do you really think I’d let something as beautifully dangerous as you just walk away from me?”

           Mutual destruction.

           Both of us know that’s the only possible way for anything between us to end.

           I’ve heard mortals us the term “like fire and ice”, but that’s not even close to what we are. We’re the same wicked soul split in two bodies, leaving trails of death and decay in our wake. She might not realize it as she’s yet still blinded by her mortality, but my very essence recognizes her as something equal to me. A rival, a lover, I don’t particularly care. As long as her thoughts, both waking and dreaming, are of me it doesn’t matter.

           “Felix.” Roseanna sighs my name as her fingers curl into my biceps. She’s panting lightly and anticipation is building in her fiery gaze. “I could lose everything if you do this.”

           I kiss her temple, her jaw, her neck. “Roseanna, do you really think I care what you’ll lose if I shove my fingers in that pretty little cunt and make you orgasm until you’re seeing nothing but stars?”

           She’s taken aback.

           I shake my head and make a tsk sound. “Don’t be an idiot, darling. Why would I care if The Society kicks you out?”

           “Because I would kill you if they did.”

           “Mmm.” I press her down into the bed and let the deep growl break free from my chest. My cock hardens, pressing against my slacks as I picture what a real fight with Roseanna would entail. Then again, if The Society were to cast her out, she would be human.

           And her blood would be all mine.

           Roseanna squirms beneath me. “Get off!”

           “Is that what you really want?”

           She hesitates and that’s more than enough for me. I don’t expect enthusiastic consent from an enemy (because she is an enemy, no matter how lovely and enticing), so I look for the blurred line and toe it until she comes willingly. And she will. She might be kicking and screaming the entire time, but she’ll give in to me. To us.

           I don’t love her. A man like me isn’t capable of love. But by the gods do I want to possess this woman, body and soul.

           “Tell me what you want and I’ll burn down the world to give it to you,” I say as I undo the knot holding her robe together. I wait for her to stop me. She doesn’t. When I look into her eyes her pupils are blown wide with lust.

           “I want…” she hesitates as if embarrassed by her own desire.

           Is she…

           “Darling, are you a virgin?” I tease her with a playful grin.

           “No!”

           She answers too quickly for it to be anything other than a lie.

           “Oh, my little poison ivy. Now I have to ruin you.”

           “Just shut up and fuck me already!”

           “No.” I gather her wrists in one of my hands and pin her arms above her head. With my other hand I caress every curve of her body, toying with her until she’s whining and squirming beneath me. “I won’t fuck you. That’s vulgar. Degenerate. Every time you’re with me will be nothing short of a fucking religious experience. You’ll be calling me your god by the end.”

           She’s about to open her mouth, give me some smart ass remark, so I cut her off and crash my mouth against her. Roseanna tenses up momentarily, caught off guard by the kiss. She melts against me eventually though. I can’t get enough of the way she feels against me. It’s like she was designed for me, fitting so perfectly in my grip. Her lips are plush and she allows me to take charge of the kiss.

           “Felix,” she breathes out my name when I move from her lips to her neck and bite down. I don’t draw blood now, but one day I will. One day I’ll drink from her until I’m absolutely gorged.

           “Yes?”

           “I want… please, I just…”

           I smile against her skin, moving even further down and taking one of her nipples between my teeth. She screams, her body jolting from the painful pleasure. There’s the distinct salty tang of sweat on her skin.

           “What do you want, darling?” I release her wrists so I can touch her with both of my hands while her fingers bury themselves in my hair. She pulls me closer, her legs wrapping around my waist.

           “Touch me,” she demands.

           “I am touching you.”

           Roseanna groans. “You know what I mean, bastard.”

           “Careful, little poison ivy. Only good girls get what they want.” I gently knead her breasts with my hands, kissing down her body until I’m centimeters from her cunt. “Are you a good girl?”

           Her body jerks when she feels my breath on her core. “Y-yes.”

           “Yes what?”

           “Sir?”

           Sir?

           I like it.

           “You are a good girl.” I get off the bed. “But you’re ankle still needs to heal, doesn’t it?”

           Roseanna’s mouth falls open and she looks like she’s about to scream at me, or throw a knife at me, or both at the same time. I put a finger to my lips and nod to the window. We have an audience. I sensed them watching earlier, but I thought they would lose interest easily. Apparently, I thought wrong, and I’d rather they not think Roseanna is fair game.

           “Who?” She asks. “Are they with you?”

           “No.”

           “Newborns?”

           “No. Stay here.”

           Roseanna scrambles under the cover, thoroughly annoyed with me. “Whatever, just lock the door when you leave and turn the light off.”

           I give her a deep bow. “Of course, your majesty. Right away.”

           “Dick.”

           “Maybe next time.” I wink and she blushes.

           When I reach the warehouse, our audience members are gone, replaced by Demetri, Jane, and Alec. None of them look pleased.

           “Where have you been?” Jane crosses her arms and looks like a petulant child being told no, you can’t have your toy until you finish dinner.

           I point a thumb over my shoulder at the hotel. “Watching the Agent.”

           Demetri smirks.

           I frown and shake my head minutely enough that only he picks up on it.

           Jane seems to believe my answer. “Well? What did you find?”

           “She’s related to the Swan girl, but they don’t seem to have a good relationship. Lots of anger and feelings of abandonment.” I don’t know why, but I feel almost bad about giving this information to the twins and Demetri. Like I’m betraying her in some way.

           Alec sniffs in my direction before wrinkling his nose. “You reek of her.”

           “She already knows we’re here. She’s known since the second she arrived in Seattle. I thought there was no sense in watching from afar and took a more direct approach.” I don’t mind her smell. I like her smell. It’s intoxicating in the best way. Regardless, I change the subject quickly. “What did you learn about the army’s creator?”

           Demetri is the one to answer me. “A woman named Victoria. She and her lover are hiding out in a cottage nearby. Apparently, she has quite the vendetta against the Cullens. Some nonsense about killing her mate.”

           Oh.

           Does Roseanna know?

           Without thinking about it, I glance up at her darkened window.

           Will she choose to take part in the inevitable fight that will take place? I imagine The Society will force her to. The idea doesn’t sit well with me.

           I turn back to my coven mates. “Were they here earlier? When I was interrogating the Agent I sensed two unfamiliar vampires watching from here.”

           “Yes,” Jane answers in her disturbingly emotionless way. “We had questions. They had answers. We will let them do as they were created to do.”

           “And the Agent?” I can’t help but ask. “The Society must feel the newborns are drawing to much attention if they sent her.”

           “She will do her job. I’m sure Aro will be interested to know if she survives given her parentage.”

           I don’t like the idea of Aro learning about Roseanna, but I know it’s inevitable. He’ll see this conversation in Alec, Jane, and Demetri’s mind. And in mine? He’ll see too much in mine. I never cared before about what he did or didn’t see, but I want to keep my poison ivy to myself. I don’t want to share her with Aro or anyone else.

[mazm-imagines]

Tear Out A Broken Heart

I think I'm done cooking the Raoul fic. 2724 words under the cut. First half is dialogue from the game with written stuff added to it bhjubn hjhb mjn

“Won’t you leave this city with me and be happy…?”

…

A deafening pause that felt like eternity followed a response.

“I’ve made my decision.”

Raoul sucked in an anticipatory breath. Surely it would be a yes!

“Raoul, you are forcing me to choose again…”

“…!” The realization caught him off guard enough to step back.

“…” His surprised expression soured into a grim one. 

“I too, am forcing you to make a choice…” Again it always came down to this. No matter if it was him or Erik, someone would always place pressure on Christine. Why was it that he never could get better?

“... Please, forget what I just said.” It was embarrassing. Did he even have the right to apologize to her anymore? 

“...” More silence. Christine’s expression had soured to melancholy in turn. He had to say something. He couldn’t even give in to the overwhelming desire to embrace her. 

“Christine, I am sorry…” Raoul couldn’t help the apology that fell from his mouth anyways. Just anything to soothe her pain. No words on earth could have ever expressed his remorse. None of it could alleviate his guilt.

Raoul mustered the courage to close the distance again, he knew what he had to do.

“Raoul…” The beautiful sapphire eyes he loved that entire time held more sorrow than he ever thought they could, as if they would shatter any moment.

“At this point, I can’t even ask you to trust me. I can’t even trust myself anymore.” Even now he was terrified that he would cling onto her soon again once more. That he would drop to his knees and tug on her skirts, begging for forgiveness. He had already said sorry lazily a hundred times over, throwing the word around as if it had no weight besides absolving his guilt. Now it was too late.

Thinking back on it, what good did his obsession do? How was he any different than Erik? Did he expect his sins to be cleansed under Christine’s name?

“Everything I’ve done ‘for you’, has caused nothing but pain for you.”

“...” Every second of silence cut into him. Forced him to think on his actions. 

This obsession… Why did it even start? When did it start? It would have been all too easy to say when Christine graced his colorless life once more. But that burning passion pre-dated her.

I lived for her. I lived for her. I lived for her.

I’d die for her. I’d die for her. I’d die for her. 

I’d kill for her- No. That would never be what she wanted from him. Thankfully he had missed the key shot. Surely she never would have forgiven if he didn’t.

She was the only one that never wanted anything from him but for his safety. 

He truly did love her from the bottom of his heart…

“In retrospect, I can’t even be sure if I actually did it for you…” He couldn’t tell why anymore. He had assimilated his desires with hers for too long. Of course there was a part of him that did it for her. Seeing her shiver in terror triggered his primitive desire to protect. But there were certain actions that could never fall under that excuse.

If he did do it for her, then why had he rejected her pleas? Why did he insist on throwing the ring? Why did he lash out at her friends? Why did he plan to kill Erik? He didn’t do that for her. He did it to prove his worth. He did it for himself. His pride. 

Never in his life had he had any control in his situation. He was to do as he was told. No resistance, no fuss. 

Once more he had lost control of his life yet he trusted Christine more than anything in the world. He would have willingly given her control of his life. However his lack of ability to help her sent him spiraling; in the end he attempted to control her life, just as Erik had. 

If he couldn’t be Christine’s knight, then what was he? Certainly not the Chagnys’ golden boy.

“...” Of course she was speechless. What could she say to such a selfish man?

And yet she opened her mouth,

“I love you, I love many things about you.” How could she still say that to him? How could she still love him after all he did?

She was a merciful goddess, and she loved only him… He was all too quick to return the sentiment.

“I love you too. I love everything about you.” He was nothing without her, but someone as perfect as her would be far better off without him.

“I truly wish for your happiness.” She was his happiness, and he would never find that happiness again. But with the kind look she wished the equally kind sentiment with, he couldn’t bring himself to say that.

“As do I, Christine. Just as your death were my biggest fear, your happiness is my greatest joy.

So I wish for you to choose the path that'll make you happy.” Perhaps, it was time to let go. If her happiness needed him out, then so be it. Even if it cost him his own.

“… And why can’t we be together, on the same path?” Why would she say such a thing? To raise even a glimmer of hope? He silently pleaded for said hope in his heart to die. 

“... I am most uncertain.” It hurt him to reject the offer, but he had to for her sake. Christine knit her lips tightly, she must have been just as hurt as he. 

The two silently gazed upon the sun rising on the horizon; yet the sun was setting on their love. But just as the sun rose for another day, so would they apart as they did together.

“Christine, may I ask what your plan is from now on?” Christine would have thrived in anything she put her mind to. Raoul wasn’t sure if he could have however.

“I plan to sing, and travel the world. I might return to Sweden with my mother, go to Turkey with Melek, or even travel the world with Ms. Alonso.” A wonderful plan-! But...

“But it will be too dangerous for you to travel alone. Christine, I know you’ve overcome all the difficulties and dangers so far. But the world may be even more dangerous than Erik, the master of the opera house. I am somewhat worried that you have to go through the harsh world alone.” Raoul regretted pulling away already. The world was dangerous, and to leave Christine to brave it alone? He couldn't have done that to his love. Christine had a perfectly reasonable idea ready to assure him.

“Ms. Alonso must be in Rome by now, I plan to go to Rome, and ask for help. Raoul you remember Ms. Alonso mentioning that right?”

“Ah, yes. I do remember.” That woman… Raoul recollected his racing thoughts. If Christine was under Ms. Alonso then she would be just fine.

“From now on I will only sing for me and me alone… and I will travel the world of my own free will. Whatever I want to go.” The look in her eyes- he had only seen such determination in his seniors at the academy. She didn’t need him anymore. 

Christine used to sing for him, but she was no longer bound to him, just as his life was now no longer bound to hers. He never made her, and she would never make him. 

“At least I will hear your name often.” Maybe one day they would see each other. Changed but alive and well. He knew she would be just fine.

“Yes, indeed…”

“Adieu Raoul.” The distance was closed even further, foreheads gently touching. Close enough for one last kiss…

“So long my Christine.” He couldn’t allow himself that pleasure, instead turning his head to look for a stagecoach. She truly wished for his happiness. If he were to find happiness now, he must do it without her. It was what she would have wanted.

…

Raoul couldn’t help but run back from his stagecoach to their final goodbye, but Christine had left. 

He wanted to plead: ‘I’ll come with you! Please take me-!’

‘Please…’

Tears started to well in his eyes. He was prone to crying ever since he was a child, it never felt as if he left said childhood. He could hear Philippe scold him already; Christine would have merely wiped his tears with a gentle hand, whispering soft assurances.

There was no one to do any of that. No harsh love from Philippe nor Christine’s tender touch. All he could do was wipe his own tears with a dirty sleeve.

How was he ever going to live with himself?

—

Raoul knew if Philippe was alive, he would give him hell for staying at a low-class inn. 

The small bed he fell on was stiff compared to the large one he would have slept in normally. That would be his life now. A dull cheap living. 

It felt utterly lonely. Shouldn’t he have been in his wedding bed with Christine by now?

He would have bought her the finest comforters he could have bought. Not much with his current finances, but he would have taken up any work to ensure a comfortable life for her.

Now he would have to take up work for his own sake. 

It seemed the maid had accidentally left the faucet on. He must have let the sound pass through his ears while he was contemplating his situation.

There was still dirt on his hands from digging Erik’s grave. Perhaps he should go to wash.

…

Realistically, he should have been dead in the Arctic by now. The only reason he gave up on such a suicidal mission was for Christine. What was the point now? To live by himself? 

He was ready to throw his life away. For the Chagnys honor, for Christine. Yet Christine wanted Raoul to live. Did Philippe even want that?

Of course he did. That was why he came to look for him. That was why he…

It’s all my fault. It’s all my damn fault. I am sorry Philippe… please. Please come back!

Tell me… What should I do? What do I do now… Tell me… please…

You were right. I am nothing without the Chagnys, so please…

He couldn’t carry the burden anymore, nor could his legs carry the burden of his own weight.

It was all his fault. Pushing Christine away from him, getting Philippe killed. Those were sins he couldn’t wash away no matter how much he wanted to. The tears flowing from his eyes nor the water of the underground river could never have cleansed them. 

He was finally truly and utterly alone.

Rapid breaths held his senses hostage. He desperately attempted to wipe his face but the tears just wouldn’t stop.

It felt as if he was drowning all over again.

‘Get up. What are you, a drunkard?’ Philippe would have scolded him if he were still alive.

‘No sir…’

He should’ve listened to Philippe. He should have gone to die in the Arctic. At least Philippe would have been there in his stead. No one needed the black sheep of the Chagny family.

…

If he left, Christine would have been utterly miserable without him. Erik would’ve taken her as his bride and surely she would’ve… He didn’t even want to think about what would have happened to her. 

Raoul shuddered at the thought. This wasn’t even accounting for Melek nor the other opera house employees. They would have suffered as well if he and Daroga didn’t take initiative.

He truly did pity Erik, but there was no way in hell he would’ve allowed for his depravity to continue.

Over the span of a night, Raoul felt his innocence rip away from his hands. 

Lust for murder, agonizing torture and loss. He had suffered more in one night than he had over his youthful 20 years of life.

His only north star to guide him was his dear Christine. Now she too had left. Surely she wouldn’t have wanted him to be a mess if she had seen him in such a condition…

Why did he want permission to live? Philippe’s or Christine’s?

No more no more no more no more. Stop stop stop stop.

There was no one to give him any directions. No one to ground him or keep him under curfew. No one to tell him to stop. 

What was he to do with himself? The last time he held any semblance of control, he nearly lost himself in rage…

No matter what, he couldn’t regret his decision. He regretted everything he did to Christine, but he could never regret his loyalty to her. That was the meager agency he allowed himself.

The carpet started to feel disgusting. Dampness snapped him out of his stupor and back into sensibility. 

Must be a leak.

He must’ve felt exhausted to think of such matters again.

Raoul got up from his position on the floor in favor of his original plan. The grime on his face and sleeves started to irritate him and he was in severe need of a wash. 

After throwing his overcoat on a nearby chair, he finally went to the bathroom.

—

For a while now, the sound of running water made him flinch. 

Ever since he had been found washed up on the riverbank and in turn found Philippe’s body, Raoul couldn’t look at water the same. He couldn’t even take a bath without worrying about drowning. Yet reluctantly he would push himself into the water while holding his breath, praying he wouldn’t be pulled in by a siren of some sort.

He was a damn sailor! He was trained for the sea-! He saved Christine’s scarf from it… And here he was, grimacing at the flowing tap. Raoul washed his face and hands in a hurry before twisting it closed. Turning his eyes up met him with his own reflection. 

He carded a hand through his disheveled hair in an attempt to get it in order. The unnatural pink marked him as a Chagny. Philippe and his sisters would have the rosy hair styled prim and proper. As of now, Raoul hadn’t had the time nor the energy to style it. Perhaps he should shave it off. He was no longer a Chagny, and he certainly didn’t want any attention that it brought.

From the corner of his eye he could’ve sworn he saw a tree from that damned forest. Immediately he turned his gaze from the mirror.

Not only could he not tolerate the sound of running water, any longer than a few minutes spent on a mirror would drive him into hysterics. 

The face he saw that day in the torture room wasn’t Raoul de Chagny. It was the face of a monster.

…

No. That was an excuse. That face was purely his own. The monster he saw that day was a warning.

He didn’t want to be the Raoul de Chagny that lashed out at others nor the Raoul de Chagny that couldn’t help himself out of a paper bag. 

No use in mulling it over now, he was already washed up and in need of a rest. He let himself merely drop onto the rock hard bed.

He had to purchase a ticket to Turkey for Melek before tomorrow evening. But the chance of meeting Christine one last time to deliver it…

He’d get someone to deliver it to her doorstep. He should start to learn how to live alone anyways.

Well, that was a little too severe of a punishment. He couldn’t live in solitude forever. Perhaps he would find someone to love again, just as he loved Christine-

No… no one could ever replace her. No one could be the little Lottie he played with in youth except her.

Raoul shook his head in an attempt to regain his composure. He wouldn’t entertain his obsession again, no matter what. He will find new people to love. This life belonged to him and him alone now. Perhaps it would do him good to think about what to do with it.

[marcelwrites]

Excerpt From ‘Cancel Me Or Die’

(This is an excerpt from a novella I’m writing, ‘Cancel Me Or Die’. A collection of loosely related chapters exploring lust, sexuality, violence, and politics. It won’t be for everyone. I think the title is cool but I also hate it. Is that not the duality of man? It’ll be published later this year. The whole “cancellation” thing makes me shudder with how fucking embarrassing it is but it’s also this pervasive concept in the West now and I like how it’s something everyone’s aware of; if you’re on the internet then you’re aware of the concept. Transgression is important. Challenge yourself. Like the first time I read the works of Jonathan Ames, I was challenged by how boldly he laid the world of crossdressing and ambiguous sexuality at the reader’s feet. I believe in the pushing of boundaries because it’s vital that we’re scared by art, challenged by it, affected by it.)

In the absolute dark before the dawn peeks through the cracks and tears in the night sky I’d met up with Lina. Her pale pink hair a light muddle until being briefly lit by the street lamps we were walking under. The plan was to light some fires and cause some chaos. A legion of old, decaying boaters had decided to pollute the waterways with their noxious floating palaces. In the mood for unprotected sex and anarchy we went to each local petrol station and filled up several jerry cans worth of fuel, $250 AUD worth to be exact. We debated grabbing some food from Hungry Jacks but rather than indulge in disgusting deep-fried carbs we parked our car near a playground, opposite some closed shops, and had sex until we felt exhausted and loosened by the exchange. We weren’t exactly in a relationship but we were exclusive with one another. I think it’s one of those situations where you joke about getting married and you end up getting married to commit to the joke but also because you understand one another’s inherent darkness and miseries. Lina and I met while lining up for tickets to see a Horror movie at the cinema. She had absolutely no friends whatsoever and her last boyfriend beat the living shit out of her, shattering two of her teeth. She has a scar running from the edge left of her top lip that extends to her philtrum, where that boyfriend split her lip with a punch. Occasionally I kiss the scar as I’m drawn to it. It catches my attention when she rides me and I see little beads of perspiration forming around it. A few months ago we drove to her ex-boyfriend’s house and I slashed the tires on his shitbox of a Ford. I was tempted to break into his house and kill him in cold blood, or at the very least, throttle him half to death and take him to the hospital myself, but after slashing his tires Lina said she really wanted to suck my cock, and so she went down on me and when I finished she spat the cum on the door handle of the driver’s side door. “I love where your head’s at.” I said to her. “Me too.” Lina replied and then laughed. I think we’re in love but we’re broken so we just don’t say those words to one another. With the jerry cans in tow we would make our way down to the peer, make sure no one was sleeping in the boats, douse them in petrol, and then light them on fire. I think people are at their most beautiful when dimly lit by the moon and the street lamps. The thin light softens our features and renders us more human. As we walked I would occasionally turn to Lina and she’d turn to me and we’d smile at one another. It would sicken me to my core and make me feel like a faggot. I told her of this and she said, “I don’t like that word but I understand what you mean and so fucking what anyway.” Previously we’d spoken about how we planned to not get caught, so we got a mutual friend to order balaclavas for us. Neither of us had any history with the police so we wouldn’t immediately be suspected. The possibility of jail and legal action was real but that added to the thrill of it all. A few rich guys lose their manhood extensions? Big fucking deal.

[maybege]

Hi May! I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well right now 🤧🤒. I thought I’d stop by with some Trucker!Paz AU thoughts to hopefully take your mind off being sick.

I actually work for a trucking company doing accounts receiving so this AU hits close to home for me. But since A/B/O doesn’t exist irl 😔, I imagine things a bit differently…and heads up, this is shamefully self indulgent. I mean I’m being completely ridiculous here, but I had a shitty day and I need to lose myself in a world where Paz exists so please indulge me 😏.

Instead of Paz being a OTR trucker in your AU, I picture him spending his days running loaded containers of liquor from a large distribution center to the rail. At the end of the day he usually scans his gate tickets and his signed BOLs to his billing person. But maybe his scanner is old and isn’t working right and the images aren’t coming over clearly and it’s causing issues with the customer paying their invoices which causes issues with AR.

This is where you enter the picture. You feel bad and want to do everything you can to help out Paz so he won’t get deducted for his unpaid loads. At your suggestion, Paz starts dropping off his paperwork in person. You help him get all his unpaid loads cleared up but more importantly, he discovers how pretty his billing person is 😉.

You and Paz hit it off immediately and Paz looks forward to seeing you every time he stops by. And even when Paz finally buys a new scanner, he still wants to drop his paperwork off in person so he can keep seeing and talking to you.

And you can’t stop thinking about him. He’s just so kind and sweet and has the cutest smile that makes his eyes crinkle. You’re constantly thinking about how big he is and how good he always smells. He always wears really comfy looking flannels that make you think about how warm he must be. His hair looks so soft you just want to comb your fingers through it. And his voice…his voice makes you dizzy and horny. And then one day your brain gets all fuzzy when he looks extra gorgeous and Paz catches you staring at his extremely kissable lips and things get really sexually charged 🥵 and you don’t know if you want to die of embarrassment or just confess how much you like him and want to get to know him outside of work. Paz decides to help you out and asks you out on a date first and you practically shout out “YES!” which makes Paz chuckle warmly. He tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and tells you he’ll pick you up Friday night and calls you “Love” and you feel like you’re going to melt right there on the spot 🫠. You barely can focus for the rest of the week because all you can think about is how it’s actually happening, you’re finally going out on a date with the big beautiful man of your dreams. 🥰

Anyway, hope this brightened your day ☀️ and that you are feeling better soon. Have some chicken noodle soup and drink some tea with lemon and honey. Stay hydrated and get lots of rest. Thinking of you and sending virtual hugs your way. 🤗

This the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever read and I’m so in love with this 😭😭😭😭 He’s so soft and warm and kind and hopelessly in love with you and when you both work late, he walks you to your car and when Friday comes around he wears one of his dress shirts and gets you flowers and everything 🥺👉👈

[likeapray3r]

Thinking about how my ex lived in a house with her ex downstairs and how I was expected to just deal with being okay with that… which I never was okay with and she knew that too. We already had an awful relationship that continuously ended (because she treated me badly, consistently) and then added even more baggage and expected me to not be hindered with it. On top of it she would flirt with any and every living thing and expected me to be okay with that as well while she was treating me horribly the entire time. How I was continuously shut down whenever I brought up how I couldn’t keep dealing with her ex partner literally living in the same home and us having to continuously talk about her, even starting our DAY in the mornings talking about her. It was all so hurtful. I hate her for continuously leading me on and putting me in such horrible positions where I had no voice. It’s hard to not blame myself, but I also need to give myself the empathy that I was being continuously manipulated and lied to by someone who is a narcissist, which is hard to wrap around anyone’s mind and acceptance feels almost as possible as taking a ladder up to the moon. It’s like surviving laying in lava. To be made to feel so small, so closed-mouthed, taken advantage of… it feels hard to accept. I never was the type to ever look through a partners phone but I know if I did in this scenario I’d find enough to fill a dictionary on why you should remain wary in love, so I’m glad I didn’t, because I don’t think the world needs anymore reasons to give up on imaginative fairytale endings we all secretly long for. In a way I was an idiot, she had gone behind my back and spoken to people who have hurt me when they didn’t get what they wanted out of me, and bonded with people about not liking me, and somehow found her way back to say “you’re the love of my life” with no real intention behind it. I do think manipulating people is all just a game to her. I know I played the game for too long. At the end, when I had been living on high alert and enough anxiety to fill all of the worlds Olympic-sized swimming pools, I had complete distaste for everything about her. The more days that passed, the more happened for me to feel more and more discomfort. It’s like if you’re in a boiling room with the devil, but they’re just dressed up as someone who pretends to love you. I have been a fool for pretending, I’ve always loved to dream. But this dreaming led me into a lions den where I was going to get chewed up. And so I did, and so I took it, and I called it love. I tore myself down, up, apart, glued back together, for a partner who never reciprocated any care or love in the same capacity I had for years. It’s like continuously trying to make a heart fit into a pinhole, it won’t work. Unless you liquidize it, and even then you’re just killing yourself for an end game that’ll never happen. I put up with so much, and so much I never told people. Maybe it’s out of embarrassment, and maybe it’s because I don’t want to ruin anyone’s reputation, but I’m sure one day we’ll know better. She always played the victim, which made me believe I was always in the wrong. But after deep analyzation, and recollection from all of the years, and the weight of the world I have felt ever since I met her, that I was a part of a karmic game that I would never win. The more I played the game, the more I injured myself, the more I felt castrated, and the more I felt worthless. To give so much of your power to another, for years, you die endlessly. The psychological manipulation is far more distressing than a broken limb, in my book. You cannot go anywhere and say here, (pointing to your brain) here’s where it all lies and here’s where it all hurts and here’s where the incision was made that made up the last few years of my existence. Here’s why I jump whenever anyone sneaks up behind me unexpectedly. Here’s where I lost trust. Here’s where I stopped talking about what was happening to me. Here’s where I stopped letting people in. I think it would all be easier to diagnose.

[soir-rouges-esprit]

xx11.a: The River, As I awoke from the campsite … I immediately noticed as The Jester had disappeared. No sign of The Street Rat, but as I went to get up and unclasp my hands from beneath my head … I feel paper … a note … from said drifter that read. “We’ve been through a lot of shit you and I. and to tell you the truth, I’d be dead ten times over without you always being there to save my ass or support me when I was down dude. in all honesty, I was ready to end it a couple of times. I’ve never said this before but… one night the smiles faded and I was ready to paint the wall with my little snub 357, It was a few months back when you went awol. I blamed you for a while… thought all the worst shit and painted you in a light that you would never be seen in and made myself believe in my own fucked up delusions that you were a person you most certainly weren’t… I know it’s fucked but I’d honestly never wanna tell you the things I thought and wished on you, because they were just fucking wrong and I’m embarrassed to have even been me in that moment… But I held that against you for a while you going dark, because in truth I’m just a little fucked up mentally as you know. But I’m sorry. I should have never ever said the things I did or done the things I did. I wanted to kill you off and just erase you from existence. But even through all your shit and downright wrong scenarios, you were going through… you were fucking there. And tbh… sometimes that makes it all the harder to know you which I know sounds weird dude. But it is just that I can’t ever see you not being there and I don’t know what the fuck I’d be doing without you. You really are my best fucking friend ever and I will fucking die on any hill or any battlefield you want me to. I don’t care what old mental residue is left over in that damn brain of yours that’s trying to choke you out, that haunts your damn dream and waking life or the hard pills you were forced to swallow that made you delta on us for a bit… I will stand just as strong as you have for me… if not harder because I will always owe you more than anyone ever. That night you yelled in my face and told me I was the problem and said you thought I was the reason everyone ODed back in the day… hurt like hot fire replaced my everything, and boy did I hate you in that moment as we’ve discussed, but that day when you came to me again… in all your suffering and heartache to come and ease my mind and tell me… You didn’t hate me, and you didn’t think I was a bad person, and you were just being immature and holding grudges and placing wild blame on someone that didn’t deserve it. I still to this day… have no idea how the fuck you had the courage to say that about yourself. I envy you so much dude… like I wish I had that ability and I’m going to actually try every fucking day to be more like you. Fucking everyone if they could see you now… would be in awe… because you are the goddamn goat when it comes down to people in general homie… I want you to know the only reason that there are two Vince brothers alive today to ruin the world a little longer… Is all you dude… no joke this time playa. I’m going off as you suggested… to live with The Knight. And help him recover from his shit and help out. I’m gonna fucking recover and be so much better dude… ALL FOR YOU!!!! Because you disserve to reach your Cloud of Dreams dude… I wanna be somehow as strong as you are mentally and emotionally even in your now broken state… I’ll be there whenever you need me… even if I’m not ready and in pain… from now on… I’m gonna support you as you do me and others homie… through shit thick and sludge like Salem, I won’t ever forget the promise we made when we were kids dude. We’re getting out of The City TOGETHER!… I fucking love you!. And I will be here for you whenever you goddamn need homie. And you bet your ass I’ll See you when I see you. Stay honest Teufel and I’ll see you where the sun don’t shine!” I was speechless … [To Be Continued]

[roguestarsailor]

Maybe I need to keep seeing them so that one day I’ll hear them say or do something bad and I can feel more justified for breaking off from them? Generally when I get mad at people it ends our friendship so maybe that’s why. Or maybe I need to learn this. Learn to be uncomfortable about how they live their lives and face the fact that people live like this and I need to chill out? Maybe I have to challenge my own perception of the world and learn from them? I know I’ll have to sit through so many sex joke, sex related talks and relationships and all the drugs and alcohol chat and learn that life isn’t a love song by TS and it’s complex and muddy and also very blasé and casual and whatever. I think I’d feel more comfortable talking to them if I had my own history of sex and dating or the same relaxed style of dating that they have but I don’t and I think that might be the biggest thing I’m pressed about. They don’t make me feel bad but idk how to contribute to the conversation and maybe that’s why I feel so out of place. I’m gonna die of embarrassment I swear! Maybe I am repressing my own sexual desires and hanging out w them will shape my idea of romance and I can just have one night stands and such??? Maybe I’ll start just learning how to casually date and not worry about long term?? Maybe I’d want to have a different guy every other night and it’s be fun and I can be this young and cool sexually active adult that I can tell my children about????? So I won’t be that boring adult who’s hyper cautious about everything?? Maybe I can live a fulfilled life this way?????

Who am I kidding--why am I here??? I regret trying to be friends w this guy! My stupid fucken brain!!!! I could have just been lonely and sad and cried in my room instead but nooo I had to put in effort to talk to him and I feel nothing BUT MISERYY!!!! Now I’m in too deep and I want to LEAVEEEE!!!

[slightlyinsanemind]

Safe Place Chapter 1

Hey? Uh… Hey! Sorry, that was… Hi. I was… I’ve seen you here a few times, always see you reading. I also like reading. A lot. Figured, maybe that was a good way to break the ice. I don’t do this often… Talk to people I mean. I usually prefer to keep to myself. It’s complicated… You seem nice so, I thought, maybe I should give it a shot. Just trying to… try again, I guess. Anyway, enough of that. Uhhh… Books, right. I’m actually getting back into reading a lot again. I just got a lot busier over the years, college, internships, that sorta stuff. But I read a lot when I was younger. I’d buy like three or four books in a row and a few weeks later I’d be back at the bookstore to get some more. Luckily there was a really good used bookstore so they were pretty cheap. My favorite time to read was in the early hours of the evening, when the sun is starting to lower and it’s not blinding you. I made a little reading spot by my window. It was one of those, the wall is so thick, that the glass window was just put into a big hole in it, so I pretty much made it into my reading area, stuffed it with pillows and I’d just be there for a few hours. Reading. Forgetting about the world. Just me and them, the characters and worlds they live in. Their adventures, their dreams and friendships. I guess… Sometimes I was a little envious of them. They had something I didn’t. Genuine relations with people. Knowing that there’s someone that will stand by your side no matter what. During those hours I felt I had friends, imaginary as they were, but… it was something. What about you? Are you good at dealing with your own emotions? Or do you also need an escape? Something to make you feel safe when the world is so overwhelming and you just feel tiny and helpless to do anything, when you feel you can’t breathe anymore and you just want to scream to be left alone but you can’t because you’re breathless so you just end up falling on your knees and hope everything will just blow over, waiting for someone to help you up and promise they won’t abandon you, and the subsequent disillusion when you look up and there is no one to reach out to, that you are simply and utterly alone… Oh… I’m sorry… I just went off didn’t I? God I’m such an idiot. I’ve been told a few times “keep being like that and you’re damn right no one will feel like putting up with you”. Guess they were right. I’ll try to not act like that with you. Unless… you don’t mind. That you don’t find this too weird. That I can be myself with you. Ahem, anyway, we were talking about books, reading, and all that, right? What about you, what do you like? No, let me guess. Looking at you, hmm, you totally like dramas. I’m just kidding. Classics! I’m pretty sure Dracula by Bram Stoker was your favorite when you we’re younger. I get it, it’s pretty good. But I bet after that you totally read all of Twilight in like two weeks. Don’t be embarrassed, I did the exact same. So, the only logical follow up would be Romeo and Juliet. That I admit, I never read. But I’d like to. Of course, you don’t have to read or watch the play or anything to know the story, I mean, it is a classic and incredibly influential. The tale of two star crossed lovers that love each other more than anything else in their lives, go against their families so they can be together and end up dying together thinking the other had died and not being able to continue to live on without each other? Romantic is it not? Can you imagine a love like that? Loving someone so much that death itself is little more than an obstacle for them to be together? …Yeah. Did you ever love someone like that? I did. It didn’t go well. Not the other person didn’t die, just… never really loved me. It hurt, so much that it broke me and took me to… some dark places. It’ all right. In retrospect, it’s actually better things turned out like that. I learned to value myself more. It took some time e a thousand and one tears but eventually I came to terms with it. It made me stronger. I could finally see my own beauty. Now I can accept who I am entirely. All my insanity and sarcasm, my crappy jokes e dark humor. My loyalty. My ambitions, my dreams. Oh well… Books! Not done with that just that. I bet you’ve read those self-help books. The type that for some people it holds the secrets of life while for others they are nothing but nonsense and that the writers are snake oil sellers. I’ve read a few, here and there, out of curiosity. But still haven’t really made up my mind about them. On one hand they are interesting, an unordinary reading for me and that maybe I’ll learn something there. Or could learn if, on the other hand, I didn’t criticize and question every single sentence. Like, if someone is “guiding” you through life then should they not explain how and why they came to that conclusion and not be just “it is this way simply because it is this way”. Sure, some of the philosophies could indeed work if you apply them to your life and start seeing the results and realize that you’re becoming better than what you thought was possible. But we know life is not rainbows coming out of a unicorns butt. If we want something we have to make work for it. Have to plan, make things work and yet there’s not a guarantee that you’ll get what you want. There’s no bloody plan to life, you simply live it and make the best that you can. And live with it. You know, one day, in a rather boring class, I read this book, can’t remember the name, but it had a quote that went something like “If you did not become rich then you day was a failure. But if you became right than it was a success”. So, from that logic what can we consider a failure, success or wealth? I had the top of the class score in some test, is that a success? Great, but I don’t see how I’m closer to getting rich. More depressed, sure, but rich? But if I have the lowest I don’t see how I’m getting poorer from that. But, still depressed. Guess that’s really the only constant in life, uh? And lastly what kind of riches are we talking about? The millions that would pop in on my bank account? Or is the feeling of a job well done enough? Sometimes I think the authors of these books are a little out of touch with reality and how things really are. Damn… I started rambling again didn’t I? Guess we can drop the philosophical stuff before we go even further down this rabbit hole and it is way too early and we are way too sober. Unless you don’t drink. I don’t usually but sometimes I drink a bit when I’m alone at home just to… I dunno. Just to I guess. Anyway, let’s move… Oh, excuse me, my phone.   Sorry. I must leave. You come here often right? I mean, I know you do but… We’ll talk again one of these days, okay? Bye…