#man i haven’t had it bad in a little while idk whats happening :((

[type-a-sentinull]

don’t yall just love it when the late-night paranoia kicks in

[o-sunny-day]

SCROLL FOR @forgettable-au ANGST :D

ok so ((WAILS LOUDLY))

WE KNOW HOW THIS GOES *breaks knuckles* ITS TIME TO TEAR APART MY ART BECAUSE PASSION

trust me, im a proFESSIONAL yapper at this point

This whole thing takes place within my own headcanon that “The Quiche Room” was one of many of Sans and Wingdings’ little hangout spots. They also really liked the echo flower there (maybe they planted it themselves-) Maybe thats why Papyrus is so unnerved and disturbed by echo flowers now…

Notice, the echo flower grows as they grow!

Oh yeah! I had fun drawing them grown in their kid outfits for 2. Wingdings can finally see his ankles

2 is also sorta a reference to my Radio Star comic, same stuff they did as kids, Wingdings working and Sans assisting, They haven’t changed too much yet. haven’t gotten the lab job. yet.

in 3, this is after they get the job at the lab and Wingdings realizes its a great place for supporting his unhealthy habits of seclusion and emotional repression. The echo flower is repeating something Wingdings said a while ago. I dont know what- fill in your own angst I suppose (I cant do EVERYTHING around here)

in 1 and 2, the light sources… are each other. Sans n Wd. Theyre each others lights. Each others stars (cries loudly and noticeably) but then for 3, the only light source is the echo flower. Yknow. The echo flower. with wingdings’ voice

4 is how the quiche room looks in the game 👍 Dunno whats sadder… Wingdings’ voice being removed because he’s in the void now, or because someone just talked over it without a second thought.

Oh yeah, and its empty because Sans and Papyrus don’t remember that ever being a place they hung out.

Yeah.

Yeah, im crying too. Its okay, let it out.

SANS AND GASTER SANS AND GASTER SANS AND GASTER (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE) I need them to interact i’m gonna have an aneurism.

THIS PART IS GETTING ITS OWN SECTION BECAUSE CMON MAN, ITS SANS AND GASTER

It was said in this post that Sans knows he was involved in whatever accident Gaster had, that had MAJOR consequences, and made everything and everyone different.

That makes me wonder, does Sans feel any guilt?? like subconsciously or not, he knows he was involved, so does he suspect he could have done something to stop it, or did something bad, and he was at fault in some way?

I DONT THINK HE WAS

so in 5, Sans is asking “what happened.”

What happened to him, why is everything like this, was it his fault? what did he do? what did he NOT do???

And Gaster just replies “Nothing that wasn’t my own fault.”

OK THATS ENOUGH. WHITEBOARD DOODLES, ATTACK!!!!

also- I PROMISE IM WORKING ON THE DTIYS 😭😭😭 IVE GOT IDEAS IDK HOW TO EXECUTE EM

Heres a thing I made/am working on(???) that was inspired by the dtiys though :3

[jujutsukgojo]

The Fourth Leg

chrollo lucilfer x reader

Summary: No matter how fast you ran, the Spider's leg cannot get far. No matter how long you hid, you were bound to be found, dear number four. WARNING: toxic relationships, mentions of murder and torture, bullying, murder plot, smut, idk what else? yandere? 18+ Smut scene is based on Fear (1996). I saw it and it crept up on me Chapter two

You’ll always be able spot the blond haired boy from a mile away. His blond locks are longer now, and his eyes are colder. They aren’t the same light grey they used to be when he was around. A small smile comes across your face when you look to see what your boy is wearing: his traditional Kurta attire.  

  When the massacre happened and you had run into Sheila, she informed you of everything there was to know about the Kurta. So, while he was housed by you, you made those clothes for him. And now that he’s a little older, he still wears the clothes you send him.  

  Kurapika left home to get his hunter’s license. He was determined and able. Just like you shaped him to be. Alas, there is something there that you once again failed to save. Just like before, like always.  

  That rageful bloodlust that confuses the host for justice and vengeance when it is neither one. It is darkness that lurks into them and finally settles into their souls.  

He is falling for the same trick as you and your dearest friends had. They entered a place and left every smidge of hope they had. What was supposed to be for justice, protection, and Sarasa, resulted in a numbness that is too disgusting to handle. It’s too brutal and vile. Bloody without a thought of washing their hands with repentance.

No matter, the tightness of your chest has you think of one thing: is it too late to save Kurapika?  

  You go back inside and wash the dishes that you dirtied from cooking his favorites. He had let you know he was coming. It is such a rarity to even be able to contact Kurapika. He’s just so busy lately. That, and he acts like he has never worked a phone before in his life. The little shit.  

  Thunder and lightning strike, shaking the ground beneath you. A slight rumble under your bare feet. You look out the window again and see a ghost from your past. Tall, silver haired, and just as beefy as before: Silva Zodlyck. You haven’t seen him since he killed you.  

  If he spots you, it will be a brawl. Another side of you that you have buried, not exorcised, all these years are calling out for his blood. To wreak havoc once more and see the fear in his eyes again. The bad thing about that is, is that you are a non combatant. An exorcist, a priestess of sorts. Not at all suited for the front lines. You can defend yourself and fight, but not on the level of him or the others.  

Hell, maybe not even Kurapika now, and you wiped that boy’s tears and snot.  

What you can do now is remain low. As much as you want to see that little brat and talk to him, to find out how he’s been, to fuss over him and see if he’s eaten yet, right now you can’t even consider that. Not when he is close to finding out. Besides, he can take care of himself for a bit. As it appears, Silva isn’t after him.  

  Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on me, trust in me.  

Your breath hitches. That smooth voice is in your head. One you haven’t heard of in years. With all the power inside, you tried to push it out. To wipe their faces from your memories.   

  You see the trash can and can only think of Little. Oh, how you tortured that boy. Putting him in trashcans and sitting on the lids and gave him noogies. Little would always retaliate but had to be held back when that one showed up to protect you. God, why are you thinking of this? There is a beast of a man who almost ended you and your dumbass is reminiscing of your bullying days.  

  Had you not pulled that one trick up your sleeve, you truly would have died by the hands of Zoldyck. It has been years since you’ve fought seriously. You trained Kurapika, but you never went full throttle. Nothing but rust is on your nen and hand-to-hand combat.

  Just sit back, don’t hide your presence or anything. That's what he’s looking for. Any kind of blip in the atmosphere. Hell, he may not even remember you!  

_____________

  You know what you have to do. There is no hope here. No compassion for others at all. The Kurta clan, Sarasa, you, no one. It is now or never.  

  You jump at the bolder of a man. Crosses paint themselves on your palms as a holy prayer escapes your lips. Your veins line with the brightest blue and the rubble around you lift off the ground from your aura. Directly, your hands clasp onto Silva’s. He looks confused and the most surprising of all, scared.

He lets go of his hatsu. In the back, there is a bloody scream. A roar that a lion can never compare itself to. A bloodlust from the roar that made Silva’s eyes widen. It is too late, the hatsu hit you straight on. Two balls of electricity and power collide with your fragile body.  

   When you came to, by pure nen, you could vaguely see your dearest. His eyes watery, voice hoarse, blood trinkling on his face. Silva is not in sight, not a single thing left behind. Did he kill him? 

  “No, no, no, damn it! Fuck!” He shakes you ever so slightly as you lay in his arms. “Heal yourself, please...”  

  You have to leave. He has no regard for you or anyone but himself. Chrollo, the boy who is only a few years older than you, yet you still bullied him, is gone. He didn’t care that you’re a non combatant. He was willing to sacrifice your life and his for his ego.  

  He only wants your ability, positively. Chrollo is gone. It is only the spider left. You have always hated spiders anyway.  

________________

Nah, Silva remembers you. He almost died too. How can he forget that he was sent to kill the man responsible for the annihilation of an entire clan? It's hard to forget a case like that considering the brutality of the deaths.   

  And if Kurapika finds out that you are Number Four, the lost spider, he’ll lose it. He'll demand to see the tattoo, no doubt. You can’t show him that. Especially since you lost a bet with Machi and Paku and put it on a place that he just has no business looking at.   

  As long as you remain calm and blend in, no one will notice. If Kurapika comes in with Silva, you’ll leave before. Pretend that you are out of town or something. Actually, that’s a good idea. You quickly write a note telling your boy that you had to rush out and that you’d call him later. To help himself to the food and make sure to rest.  

  There is another rumble under your feet. It feels different. The screams are louder, the air more ominous by the second. What is this? It touches you like a familiar hand. Something cold and clammy. Is that...Nobunaga?  

  Don't panic, don’t panic. It's been years since you faked your death and abandoned them. They probably don’t remember you, right?  

 Nah, you pantsed Nobunaga in the middle of a dubbing. He was wearing the ranger’s underwear. He always vowed to get revenge, but he was stopped by Chrollo, of course. You’ve known these people for years and fought with them side by side. You saved him several times and healed him. He will remember you.  

  There is a deathly silence. Your skin raises goosebumps all over. You can feel him. Your old friend knows or is at least trying to figure out what’s going on. You take a deep breath and remain calm. It has always been easy to trick him. How many times did you do such a thing and lead him to embarrassing situations?   And how many times did Chrollo get you out? Every. Single. Time.  

You sure were spoiled rotten by Chrollo in every way. It drove people nuts. When you were dropped off in Meteor City at the age of five, you were a terror due to pain and heartbreak. There was only so much a child could take and you weren’t able to express it properly.  

  The priest held onto patience as much as he could, but no one could ever hold a candle to Chrollo’s patience. It is as if he is a saint. You'd bite, kick, and talk over him. When they dubbed the tapes, you would always turn the tv off just because it wasn’t what you wanted to watch. Uvogin was so close to beating you so many times, but Chrollo intervened and explained to them what empathy was.   

  However, he went overboard and spoiled you rotten. In the Troupe you got part of Chrollo’s shares including what was actually yours. He made sure that you were the most taken care of out of them all. He always helped you up and protected you the most. You weren’t able to go on a mission by yourself and had to have at least two people with you, just like him.  

He always held a soft spot for you, you think. Even before you shared special moments. Until he stopped caring and went somewhere where you can’t follow.  

Now that you have abandoned the Spider, Lord only knows what’ll happen. Will he spare you for old time’s sake? Or will Feitan, also known as “Little”, finally get his revenge because of the trash cans?  

  Or Machi’s cut up clothes, and Paku’s shaved head, or Uvo’s wedgies and bites, Phinks’s eyebrows that never grew back, Shalnark’s broken nose and the tack in his sho-  

Oof, you’re going to die. And that was all done when you were like, six? There were plenty more years that you were just onery. Chrollo...that poor guy. The hell he went through before and after the Troupe...the patience of a saint.  

Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled, rotten.    

You were ungoverned and got away with things that the rest couldn’t. But this, rejecting the Spider, rejecting him, sheltering the last Kurta descendant...you’ll die.  

  Or be in a lot of pain.  

Suddenly, you feel a sharpness crawling up your arm. They're coming.  Another rumble occurs right when you back away from the sink. In the distance is a large body flying in the air with a trail of red following it. What?  

With a gross thud that you swear everyone heard, lands Silva. Beaten, bloody, gone.  

   Well, there goes that problem. On to the next, which is Nobunaga. You're caught in his en somehow. Or whatever the hell that's called. Anyway, never did you think he’d grow and be able to stretch it out this far. 

  You start to leave calmly so he doesn’t suspect anything. Just a calm person that his en is confusing for someone else! Finally, you hear the even more terrible commotion. You know Kurapika is okay if the rumors of the powerful chain user are true. And he seemed to have a lot of help. Once you shake the Nobunaga off, you’ll make your way to Pika.  

  He doesn’t know that in your past you were one of the Spider’s legs. The fourth one, to be exact. The one who died by the hands of Silva Zoldyck, years ago. Soon after the Kurta’s extinction and after the fight with the Spider’s leader, the devil himself.

You lock the backdoor and head to the woods where there is a safe spot that Kurapika used to train. As you pass by the branches and the shady trees, you are blinded by the harsh memories of your dear friend, Sarasa. She and the Troupe are a few years older than you. They spent more time with her than you did but the memories of her, those precious moments that you wanted to last for years to come, that innocence, was stripped from you. You hold onto the specks of what was left of your childhood, before the truth of hell appeared.  

   A trash bag, a child inside, the Troupe, and Chrollo who faced it first and has never recovered.  

You weren’t there to find her. It was broken down to you because of your youth and denial, you were staunch in the belief that it was a lie and that she was alive. The only one who had patience for you was Chrollo. The tantrums were the tipping point to the realization that she had suffered in her last moments.   

  When it hit you, he held you as you remained in shock. He catered to your every whim to fill in the shoes of the missing people in your life. And you left him.  

How could you not? He left you first, abandoned you for a darkness that you couldn’t shine a light through. Chrollo believed that he was a messiah to the city and to his friends. They follow blindly when you can’t. You are a thief, not a heartless killer. The Kurta didn’t deserve their fate.  

 You push past a couple of thick bushes to be startled. 

  “Come here, now.” His voice is as smooth as you remember, just a little deeper now and more commanding. Although you know him and his quirks, the atmosphere is off. A creepy feeling of nothing in the air. You can’t sense him of his anger at all. Only a chill and a hair-raising sensation that doesn’t match anyone you know. Perhaps, this is fear.  

   You walk to him as you spot him in a clearing. “Chrollie.”   

“A dead spider, huh.” He stands tall but casually with his hands in his pockets. His hair is slicked back and the tattoo on his forehead is more prominent. He’s shirtless and wears an odd coat. His style choice is different now than it was back then. Before, he would throw on normal Meteor City clothing, which consisted of whatever was around. Looking back, his favorite was a white shirt and plain black jeans. Now, he looks like he wears designer. 

  “Here I thought that you were squashed,” he looks you up and down, eyes narrowing. You feel vulnerable under his gaze. “All along you were here. Raising a devil that killed two of your own.”  

You know about Uvogin and Pakunoda. Kurapika felt so guilty, after the events he vented to you. He sounded as young as he did when you took him in. Of course, you were hurt and cried when Kurapika wasn't looking. You mourned them as anyone would. 

  “I know about that-”  

“And you still didn’t come back?” Chrollo is shaking, desperate to calm down. His fists are clenched so hard, you think they’ll bleed. This, you think, is the most anger he's ever shown. And it's toward you.  “Could I? You would’ve killed me!”  

“I would have accepted you with open arms, Number Four.” Would have.   

Number Four. He didn’t even call you by your real name. “No, you would react just as badly as you are now.”  

“Oh, my darling spider, you have no idea. All you had to do is trust me.” He shakes his head in disappointment. 

_____________

“I’m not joining, Chrollie. I’m not calling you Boss, either.” You were disappointed that they actually went through with this. Years ago, you came across their little meeting. Chrollie looked at you and asked if you wanted to join but you called them all stupid.  

“Why not? I'm the leader.” You roll your eyes. “No, you’re a theater nerd.”  

You jump and sit on the desk. He comes up to you, only inches apart. Chrollie gently cradles your face. “That part of me is gone, darling.”  

“Darling? Pretending to be all manly now? A gentleman? That's what 'darling' reminds me of. Those books you read.” You acknowledge that he’s grown up. He broader and stronger. His hands no longer smooth but are calloused and bigger than your own.  

He erases how gentle he was caressing your face and replaces it with a commanding and firm touch on your cheeks. “Join me.”  

  “No.” You answer as well as you can with your cheeks squished. Suddenly, his lips touch yours. It is your first kiss. It sends shocks to your special place. He parts from you. Embarrassingly, you follow in his direction.  

  Quickly, you snap out of the trance of your first kiss. You shake your head in defiance. “I want to travel! I want to get out of this city and experience the highs. I've already touched the lows. I don’t want to get deeper.”

"You think we’re lower than you?” There’s an edge in his tone. One that tells you to tread carefully. However, you’re not shy when it comes to Chrollie.  

“No. But I worry that you will be.” He tilts his head and asks, “Because you think I can’t take you to the there?”  

  He grabs your hand that is so much larger than yours. It's weird now. You are used to him leading you places but now you just realize the difference between you two. He’s...a man now. It’s all so new. You'll never admit that he makes you feel some type of way.  

“Let me show you.”  

Just like in the movies, you see a roller coaster for the first time. There are lights everywhere and smiling and laughing people. And not at you! Just the joys of life without worrying where the next meal is coming from. You spot the balloons in various animal shapes and see the fluffy candy. The pretzels are soft, and the fried dough the size of your head is to die for. You have never witnessed such freedom. The last time you have seen an inkling of joy was when you were a child and Chrollie was dubbing tapes. 

   The two of you get on the back of the ride. You cling onto his arm. “Scared?”  

“No!” In truth, you were. Never in your life did you ever see one of these in person. Only on the videos Chrollo would pick up. It showed the ride going fast and high with screaming people. There were twists and sharp turns on the tape. And now, you get to be one of those people to experience it.

The ride starts. He wraps his right arm around you. The roller coaster shoots out causing you to flinch.  

“I got you, trust me.” You curl into him as the ride takes a sharp turn. Right after it happened, you feel tracing between your legs. You look down and see Chrollie’s fingers rubbing against you.   

  It's...feeling really good. Your breaths become quicker as his fingers do figure eights through your underwear. You let out a little shriek when he pulls them down. Now, there’s nothing blocking him from you. The ride takes a sudden left. 

  You don’t know how it happened, how it led to this. What exactly did you say to him that incited him to massage your bud and insert a single finger inside you. Slowly coaxing moans that blend in with the screaming of everyone else. Never have you been so grateful for that. He places a kiss on your head. “Join me, swear to me.”  

   Another finger enters you. His palm rubs and presses against you. How are his fingers so long? Why are they bigger than yours and feel so much better?  

  You start to really moan as he goes faster. You lift up slightly to follow his motions with your hips. Chrollie bites and sucks on the spot under your ear. The ride starts to go up.   

“Holy sh-oh God...” You breathily cry. He growls in your ear at the sound. “I’ll take you there, to the highs. So high you’ll never see the ground.”  

You grab his wrist and move furiously, spreading your legs a little more to give him as much room as possible. You want more, need more. There is a feeling there that is about to pop. One that he can take.  

   “Swear to me.” You watch as the stars get closer. People make noises of excitement different than yours, but it blends. “Do you want me to stop?”  

“N-no! I trust you!” You grab onto anything in reach as you give up trying to keep up with him. He's cradling you, his dominant hand relentless and lips sinful. A goose bump raising feeling starts. It's cold and is making you shake even more. Chrollo feels it too.  

He's smiling when you gasp and your head goes back.  

  Everything is happening at once. Two different sensations, both caused by the boss, by Chrollo Lucilfer. And he knows it, he’s waited for it.  

  “Swear to me, trust me!” You grab his leg and squeeze it. “Let me take you there.” He whispers in your ear.  

As the ride reaches the peak, so do you. Loudly, you swear to him. To the spider and his name. His hands and whatever energy is rushing to you, cause your eyes to go back. The squelching sound is loud, but your euphoric moans of his name are louder.   

From what you gather in this state, the ride was supposed to stop. Supposed to stay on the rails rather than bounce a little. You didn't even notice that your aura was the cause for the ride's disruption.

When your high leaves you, you’re in a daze and glowing. He withdraws himself and sucks on his fingers. You gasp at the sight. It is pornographic, the hungry look in his eyes. The grey that you have known for years has become so dark and just by a lick. He grabs your hand gently and leads you away to finish what he started. Your legs shake along the way and for the rest of the night when the two of you are satisfied. The way he licked and sucked and swirled his tongue on the most delicate of places and thrusted himself inside had him gain the scratches on his back.   

The two of you created a memory that neither of you would ever forget.  

It wasn’t until you learn about the nodes do you hold a slight bitterness towards him. He caused yours to open wide because of this. Your aura nodes and a nen pact that binds you together. For the Spider.  

____________

You swallow at the memory and plenty more of similar situations with your former boss. For years you trusted him fully. But somewhere along the way, he had lost it. “Chrollie, please understand. I just didn’t agree with it anymore.”  

“Really?” He scoffs. He knows you are hiding the words to describe how it really was, how it is. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.   

“When you killed that entire clan...tortured them, mutilated them...I couldn’t do it anymore. You wouldn’t listen to me. You only thought of yourself.”  

“Excuse me?” His voice is low, and his eyebrows are raised. He's gotten so intimidating now. Before, he was someone you pushed over even when he was your boss. It has always been that way. You admit, you are spoiled. Undisciplined and rebellious to the Spider.  

To Chrollo Lucilfer.  

   If you are going to die today, you are leaving with giving him a piece of your mind. A dose of reality that he no longer has.  

“You completely lost yourself. How can you make dumb decisions like that?”  

“Their eyes gave Meteor City a profit that helped millions. I did it for our city.”   You shake your head no. “No, you did it for yourself. As some kind of sick powerplay! And everyone follows you blindly, and to do it without a thought. You guys kill for no reason. It didn’t use to be that way.”  

 Your lip wobbles at the memory of that day. You had gone up to Chrollo and went against the mission. It was stupid to you. It didn’t make any sense. They were going to kill these people because he wanted their eyes? You understand that he is greedy and increasingly vicious. But not cruel, not before the end. 

  He didn’t yell at you, but he did put you in your place with a stern yet calm voice. It was scary. Just as scary as he is now. You still couldn’t do it though. The thought of it made you cry.

So, he commanded you to keep watch and capture any stragglers. There were none. You ran away from the screams and ran into a boy with blond hair and blue clothing. A Kurta. The last one, to be exact. You begged him not to go over there. Afraid of his fate or him seeing the gruesome crime.  

  The Troupe were not there, only corpses. Eyes gouged out, bruises and bloody. Even the children. Lucilfer had become the devil himself.  

  You, without thought, took the boy in. You found a little village not too far away and raised him in a cottage. Unfortunately, you weren’t there every single day because of your “job”. One he knew nothing about.  

   Until your last day. You and Chrollo had been walking in Meteor City when Silva Zoldyck came. Someone called for him to eliminate the Troupe. Your dearest didn’t care that you aren’t really suited for fighting. Especially a Zoldyck.   

   That was your chance! So, when Silva had hit you with his Hatsu, you hid inside your energy and faked your death. It looked so real, felt like it too. It took a lot of healing and purifying to survive.  

  You had to do it. Your friends had lost their way. You couldn’t go along with it anymore.   

“You left.” You whimper. 

“Are you kidding me? I believe the one who abandoned the Spider, your friends, me, is you. My spoiled little brat .” He takes a few steps closer to your standing frame.   

“You went to a place where I couldn’t follow. It was no longer about finding Sarasa’s killers or protecting the city. The Spider turned evil. I knew it was happening but I didn’t face it until years later when you committed a pointless massacre.” He ignored you and talked over you.  

“You swore. And here I find you healthy, alive. While we are dying. We needed you and you left!” That ended with a powerful yell.   

“You didn’t care about me either. I was no match for Silva yet you were willing to sacrifice me. You went to a place I just couldn’t -can’t- follow.”  

  A tear drips down your face. His face is furious and slicked back hair is coming undone by him running his hand through it. He stops when he sees your tear. Instinct takes over and he wipes it.   

“Uvo, Paku, Shalnark, Korotopi. All gone and you could have stopped it. I was cursed by that boy to never talk to the Troupe again. We had to find an exorcist in Greed Island of all places because you decided we were trash.” His voice deceptively hushed and smooth. You shake your head no.  

“Not trash. Just bad leadership.”   

Chrollo’s eyes widen. This is the first time anyone has insulted his leadership. He immediately pulls your hair. You yelp and try to get out of his hold.  

“And yet you do not complain of the riches I gave your greedy ass.” He growls.  

“You are a profitable leader. A good provider. An excellent one. I hadn’t a need or want in the world,”  

You struggle to get out of his grip. It loosens as you speak. “But you aren’t a true leader. A true one would never endanger his people like you have. Never would view them as replaceable.”  

  He tosses you on the ground. You accidentally land on your wrist. Chrollo paces back and forth. “Replaceable? Bad leader-ha! Oh, love you are something.”  

   He grabs your arms roughly. You try to yank your arm out of his grasp. “You’ve already replaced me!”  

  Chrollo shakes his head no. “I could never.”  

“I’m sorry, Chrollie. I just-you-,” You take a deep breath. “Everything went downhill. We stopped looking for the killers like you promised. We weren’t Robin Hood anymore, either. Remember that story you read me? Take from the rich and give to the poor?”  

“I remember.”  

“It wasn’t that anymore. What was left was coldness and blood. And a boy whose life and childhood were taken from him. Just like ours. It wasn’t fair.”  

  “We support and provide for our home, not some random people.”  

Frustrated, you retort, “You like to listen to the sound of your own voice too much. That's why you don’t listen! You don’t realize actions have consequences until shit like Uvo and Paku happen.”  

  He raises his hand. You flinch to brace for it. This is the first time he will strike you.   

  Time is frozen as you wait for the pain. You open your eyes and see what’s the hold up. Chrollo stands frozen with his hand still in the air still. His face is no longer hardened, but shocked. His mouth is slightly open and eyes have widened. He stares at his open palm as if it had a mind of its own, and he couldn't believe it. 

Then he clears up once again to return to his previous deadly expression. Rather than striking you on your face, he lands his hand on your ass. You yelp at the impact. 

  “ Ow!” You rub the cheek he hit. “Why? Of all things?” Like him hitting your ass was supposed to be better than your face? It's demeaning! 

  He grabs your face with one hand and kisses you harshly, passionately. A confession, a return. Stupidly, you get lost in him like always.  

_______

“No! You play this instead.”  

“But I want to dub Cleanup Rangers...” Chrollo rubs his arm as he looks down at the nine year old. You were dropped off at the front doorstep of the church about a couple of years ago. Ever since then you’ve been a little terror. Always picking on people, on the priest, the entire city.   

  You are a tiny bully pushing everyone around because you’re hurt. Only Sarasa could fully calm you. While everyone else just visited the church from time to time, you were a child that had to live in it because no one liked you. You never got a nanny or substitute siblings. All you had was yourself and a priest who was often at his wits end. You had to follow him around and practice his teachings and study them. You were often times bored and thus angry at everything. 

Sarasa was a God send in his eyes and yours. Chrollo was someone who tried to follow in Sarasa’s footsteps with you but lacked the ability to tell you no. He was a patient and caring boy, but one you walk over.  

  “I don’t care! This one!” You stomp your feet.  

“Don’t let her push you around like that, Chrollo.” Uvogin recently hit a growth spurt, so he towered over you two completely.   

  “No! What I say goes. This one!” You show Uvogin the tape. “Do you even know what’s on it?”  

“No. But I want to see.”  

 Chrollo hums and places the tape inside. It turns out, it was blank. You pouted as Uvogin teased you. His smile is wide and practically glows. The laugh is boisterous and bounces off the walls. Immediately, you hit him in his most sensitive spot, causing him to buckle and groan.  

You scream at the top of your lungs. “Stop laughing at me!”   

  Laughter and a smile like that remind you too much of your parent when they dropped you off in this God forsaken, dirty, and polluted place. You hate it. “It’s okay. Here, we’ll do the Clean up Rangers and you can help if you want!”  

  Chrollo took out the blank tape and put it aside. He picked you up and placed you on the desk closest to him. Uvo hisses and glares at you. You frown and stick out your tongue.  

“Listen, you can play the-”  

“No. I'm scared of that.” He knows good and damn well you don’t listen. He looks at you confused until he deduces the problem. “Stage fright?”  

Confused, you ask, “What’s that?”  

 Uvogin groans in the background with every dirty word he can muster. He curses Chrollo for being so gentle with you and a “pushover”. You quickly tell him to shut up or you’ll hurt him even worse.  

  “It’s when you get scared to talk in front of a bunch of people.” You sat in front of him and nodded. “Okay, how about you have a front row seat then! Make sure you cheer us on, alright?”  

   You're still pouting. He rubs your cheek. You want to play with the rest of them too! They never let you play normal things. He hugs you and rubs your back to console you.  

“Trust me. It'll be fun!”  

___________

You wrap your arms around his neck, gently tugging at his hair. What was a proclamation of dominance, turned into an embrace of passion. You part from him slightly. You rub his chest and ask, “Why did you lose your way? Killing all of those people?”  

“Why did you stop trusting me?”  

“You are willing to sacrifice everyone, even me.”  That day with Silva Zoldyck was proof of your accusation, of your observation.  He sucks on your neck with the intent of a mark. You give him a gasp. Slightly muffled, “Why do you doubt me? Do you honestly think I would have? You stopped trusting me.”  

He nibbles on your ear. You try to pull away before you are totally caught in him. “The Kurta-”  

 “Are responsible for Sarasa’s death and for some of the trafficking of children. Getting rid of them was necessary. Do you understand?” He continues to kiss down your neck, making sure to suck on the best places. He holds you a little closer. 

You want to believe there was a deeper reason for the extermination of the Kurta. “You barely remember it, so it can’t be true. Hell, how can I believe you when you don’t care about anyone?” He slaps your ass again. You are this close to smacking the shit out of him. You rub your bum in hopes to stop the stinging.  

 “Stop that! That’s not funny!” You pull away to see an indifferent face for a split second.  Chrollo grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in once again. His personality flips like a switch. The sweetness is gone and back is the bloodlust and anger. Honestly, it never left. It was just hidden to trick you.  He's a good actor like that.

____________

“What are you guys doing?” Phinks groans at the sight of you. Recently, he had to pull Feitan out of the trashcan again. Next to him is Feitan saying words in his native tongue that would have made a sailor blush. You blow a kiss to them both just to antagonize them. 

“Enough, she’s part of the Spider now.” Chrollo, right on his forehead, has a cross tattoo that kind of resembles a web. You don't know where he got it done at. 

“Her? What can she do?” Machi crosses her arms. You always wondered if she liked Chrollie. If she knew what the two of you did last night, she’d scream.  

You’re still a little sore and flustered. But happy and satisfied. Never have you felt so good. At first it was so sweet and dare you say, loving. Then as the night went on it became animalistic.  

Rather than sit around him, waiting to hang on to his every word, you sit next to him, chomping on some chips you found. You hear some groans and mumbles about how you are and how you’re going to get away with everything. Again.  

You stick your tongue out and say, “That’s why I ain’t sharing...bitch ass.” Phinks crosses his arms. “Damn it...”  

“Enough,” He stares down at you. “Like I said, she is a leg. And an exorcist.”   

You feel his eyes on you again. You look up to see his eyes. “The fourth leg.”  

________

“You are coming home, now.” He drags you by the back of your neck.   

“Wait, stop!”   

“Shut the ever living fuck up.” He squeezes you harder. Wasn't he just loving on you like two seconds ago? You have always wondered if he was all there. He seemed genuine when he was a kid but seeing the man he's become, you may never know. 

  “Hold on! You said the Kurta killed Sarasa. How do you know?”   

“Sheila told us.”  

  You see the rest of the legs. They look unbothered until they see you. Shock is painted on their faces so vibrantly.   

“I thought...I thought she hadn’t seen you in years?”  You have a sense of confusion and suddenly, dread. 

____

Sheila limps to a cave. You see her as you run away from the Troupe and their horrific actions. This happened right before you would spot a blond boy. “Sheila?”   

“Oh my God!” She hugs you tightly. Her leg has always been messed up since she was a child.   

  You feel like crying at the sight of her. It has been you and the Spider for so long now, you were forgetting what Sheila was like. She was the closest thing you had to Sarasa. You had your own way of loving someone, but Sarasa seemed the most natural. A big sister, a mother even. A girl who always shared stickers with you and sang you to sleep.  

  “What’s going on?” She asks as you hug return her hug. “T-they’re killing them!”  

  “Who? Who’s dying?”   

“The Kurta!” Sheila gasps. “I was just with them. Oh no, did I-”  

You sniffle and wipe your eyes. “No, no. This is on them.”  

“And the Kurta were so nice too. Harmless, peaceful.”  

____

Why did she say that if she knew they killed Sarasa? When did her and Chrollo talk? You were with Chrollo the whole time, so it couldn’t have been that day.   

  You see Sheila in the background. She is looking down at the ground, then looks up with the most wicked smile and gleam. What? You stare back with horror. Never has she had that smile. It is foreign and totally misplaced. This is Sheila, not a Troupe member. Why is she even here? She isn’t a part of it and disapproved of the group.  

Then, everything is falling together.   

  Everyone’s faces are that of monsters.   

You don’t understand. She told them of their whereabouts. She said something completely different to you. And of course, you believed her. Her and Sarasa were like sisters. They were so close it was like looking at twins. Never would you have thought she could commit such a sin. The Kurta were innocent, but...what’s going on? Everyone was desperate to capture Sarasa’s killers-oh no. You stop moving your feet, only to be dragged by Chrollo Lucilfer. He moves his hand from your neck to your arm in a tight hold, tripping you along the way.  

  “No, no, no!” You’re trying to yank free. How can he not see it? He’s the smartest person you know. How can he not see what had taken place that day? The horror, the blood and mutilation. Chrollo, you must see this!   

The Kurta and Sarasa were innocent. Kurapika...your boy.   

“Chrollo, don’t you see?” You whisper for only him to hear. He looks down at you as the rain begins to fall gracefully.   

  You can feel the tears swell.  

Does he know what happened that day? That the Troupe and Sheila are monsters. And not just because of the Kurta’s extinction. You may not have all of the puzzle pieces, but by the reactions alone, it becomes clearer.  

Out of everyone here, you struggle to read him. Always have, even when you were kids. You only catch the truth from time to time when he gives it to you. They are few in between. 

  “Have they made a fool of you?” It is rare to one up Chrollo. His power can wipe nations, his aura is powerful and vast, his commanding tone is one that cannot be ignored.   

 “Sacrifices have to be made.” He bluntly answers without a hint of remorse or second thought. His tone is final and dead. Like he has nothing else to say about it.  

_______

“I’m fucking sick of her-!” Uvogin plops down on the chair. It creaks under him. Before Uvogin can continue his ranting, another voice pipes up on the matter of a certain little girl.   

“She’d...be fun.” His voice is recognizable to anyone due to his lack of pure fluency. His hair is choppy right now because a brat got her hands on a pair of scissors. The thick, black, strands are being fixed by Pakunoda. It isn’t the best, but at least it wouldn’t look as bad as it did.   

Machi taps her foot. “She would be, huh?”   

  “It can’t be us, though. Too obvious.” Shalnark points. Collectively, the friends are beginning to plan and imagine a better Meteor City.  

“Are you guys being serious, right now? This is a child you’re talking about.” Pakunoda taps on Feitan’s shoulder, signaling that she’s done. He turns back to look at her and answers, “Deadly.”  

  Machi sighs. “You’re right, Shal. It is too obvious. And we have rehearsal with Chrollo, too.”  

  Pakunoda crosses her arms. “This isn’t sitting right. Something is going to go wrong.”  

“Remember your shaved head?” Machi asks. Pakunoda tenses up at the memory of you butchering her hair. Who keeps giving you scissors? You would be cute with that crooked smile of yours if it wasn't caused by the loss of her hair. 

  “There are a lot more bad things going on in the city. Accidents happen all the time, Paku.” Nobunaga puts his hair into a bun. Pakunoda remains silent. “We can’t let anyone else know. Only ones in this room.”  

  As said, bad things happen to kids in Meteor City all the time.  

 

Sarasa decided to go find a tape instead of you since you have a habit of picking blanks. You stomped your foot in protest. You wanted to go! You’d finally had the right directions to pick up some good tapes, anyway. Alas, Sarasa went while Chrollo soothed you.  

She skips along and sees a few men ready to welcome her in the worst way.   

“Is it her?”  Uvogin’s heart is racing. It's pounding so loud it’s in his ears. The rain is the only outside noise as Chrollo reluctantly opens the bag.  

Chrollo opens the bag and sees the face of Hell. Uvo grabs him and demands to know what is on the note since he can't read it. The wrong face is behind that letter, that much is known. The wrong directions were given to the wrong child. Everyone needs to know. To hear the mistake and pain, the truth.  

The words on that letter will never be spoken.   

_____

“The Kurta is an isolated clan with special eyes. They'd be a good cover, no?” Sheila asks. Lately, Sarasa’s murder is being brought up more and more. Chrollo is turning into the leader that Meteor City needs. And an omnipotent being. A terrifying, controlling, mastermind of a god. One that demands respect and cooperation, devotion to what he’s created: a spider. But that spider has one weakness that at a drop of a hat, can cause this god to wreak havoc on everything. 

Calm and collected he appears, but thunderous when he strikes. Loyal to what is his, but horrible in all.   

  “So, the Kurta. Agree?”  

“Aye.” They say in unison. “It’s not like anyone would miss them.”  

_____

The more you study him, the more you wonder if he knows. Was he blind or was he in on it and spun that story of him finding her? How could any of them do this?   

“Please, not you...” You whisper. Chrollo’s book is open to a page fit for an exit. A green portal opens. “No! No, no, no!”  

You struggle even more as everything, except for Chrollo’s role, becomes clear. You are not the smartest, but you are stupid. Years in that blasted city has taught you valuable lessons of reading people. Years of knowing these people have given you an advantage on top of that. Well, not everything obviously. “Chrollo, what did you do?”  

He glances down at you once more. “I am the Head, my fourth limb. But even a spider has a treasure to keep.”   

  His grey eyes are dull but with the slightest hint of possessiveness. You'd recognize it anywhere. It is the same look he gave you when you saw him today, it is the same when you first met him and he had decided to keep you under his wing, it is the same as when you finally joined the Troupe. 

  This wicked gleam has always sought you, always found you. Unfortunately, you could never read them other than that. Like you said, he only shows what he wants you to see and even then, it is blurry. God, you wish you could. If only for a moment to answer your question. Just a straight answer, the truth, about how or why Sarasa died. She was innocent and sweet. She was your friend! Everyone’s, actually.  

 So, why? What could she have possibly done to deserve such a fate? How can he not see the true culprits? What about the Kurta? Did he know and went with it anyway?  

No, that’s a bad deal. It can’t be just one question and one answer. You have too many questions. And not a single one will be answered, you bet.   

  He drags you to the portal. The Troupe starts to enter it. Phinks looks at you for a split second. For that one second his eyes look...sad? No, that’s not possible with someone like him. Like them. You are accepting that you’re in danger, but not that these beasts have a heart or a capability of remorse.  

You look around frantically. Where's Kurapika? Is he dead?   

Would he save someone like you?  

“(Y/n), who are you looking for?” Chrollo asks. He doesn’t even look at you. You want to call out for Kurapika, but that’d expose him to danger. No, if your boy hates you let that be so. At least he’ll be okay. Hopefully he has learned to make his own attire.  

  “You can’t do this, Lucilfer.”   

“But dear, I can, I have, and I will.” A few more steps to the portal. “Lucilfer, I don’t want to go.”   

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “Stop this! I don’t want to go. Do you know what they did?”  

He calmly turns around and stares at you. He expected this behavior from you. He walks to your frozen form, causing the few survivors of the village to jump. Once again, he cradles your face and places the gentlest of kisses on your lips. They're still soft, you note. Still full and masterful. 

Right as your eyes are about to close, you see that he is looking at something past you as the kiss begins to get more intense. More possessive by his hold and the movement of his lips. His grey eyes are narrowed at something that you can’t see.  

Is this a claiming? What the hell is he looking at?   Done being curious, you turn to look and see your boy Kurapika’s horrified and furious expression. You have no thoughts other than your impending fate. Your vicious crimes and relentlessly cruel past have resurfaced in the form of a wicked man. The boy you took care of and never verbally admitted you loved him as your own, is ruined even more. His heart is broken.  

 Sarasa is gone, the Spider reigns supreme, and you are stuck. There are more questions than answers at this point. Too many lies from a group that cling together in some sick and twisted loyalty. You have accepted that in the middle of that is the boy you admired and maybe even loved.

And you finally understand what Phinks meant. It wasn’t remorse, it was pity for an old and spoiled friend as they are pushed onto the spider’s web.  

[felagund-the-valiant]

Broken Bonds - Curufin x f!reader + Celebrimbor

They say love conquers all, but they are wrong.

Words: 1.4k

Tags: hurt/no comfort, young!Celebrimbor

A/N: idk what came over me but I had sudden inspiration and had to try and put it into writing. Enjoy the angstiest thing I’ve written so far jfc

You sat next to Telperinquar as he was flipping through his notebook. Trying to pay attention to your son’s excited ramblings about forging techniques was proving difficult with the storm raging inside you.

The past few weeks had been tumultuous to say the least. Watching the man you loved stand stoutly by his father’s side as he rallied your fellow Noldor against the Valar and put forth his maddening oath to retrieve his precious gems from the dark enemy – an oath none of his sons hesitated to swear. Receiving reports of the man you loved spilling the blood of innocents at the behest of his father. The worst part had to be that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely shield your son from hearing about his fathers’ deeds.

“Ammë?”

You startled a little as your son called out to you. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for a reply to whatever he had asked. Guilt surged through you at seeming so uninterested in your son’s studies when in truth you couldn’t be prouder of the understanding of his father’s craft he was already showing at his age.

A forced smile appeared on your face. “Forgive me, sweetheart, my thoughts were elsewhere.”

Tyelpë frowned at your response and let his eyes wander back to his notes. “Were you thinking about Atto?” he asked quietly.

Tyelpë might not have been a grown man yet, but he was old enough to understand that whatever was happening since the Darkening was waking some kind of darkness in his father’s heart as well.

You sighed and reached out to pull him closer, making him wrap his arms around you without hesitation. Your fingers idly combed through his strands of soft black hair as you tried to think of something soothing to say – you couldn’t come up with anything and so the two of you sat there in silence.

“Is Atto a bad man now?” Tyelpë asked after a while. The words pierced straight through your heart. Never in your life would you have thought that a child born in the Blessed Realm would have to worry about such a thing.

“He has made some very bad decisions.” It was a grotesque understatement but a naïve motherly part in you still clung to the hope of preserving what was left of your son’s innocence.

A knock sounded on the door and moments later your husband stepped into the room. He wore a smile on his face, but you could feel the fire sizzling beneath the surface through your bond. As he approached, you pressed a gentle kiss to Tyelpë’s forehead and let go of him.

“Give us a moment, will you?”

He nodded sombrely, collected his notebook and gave his father a brief hug before leaving the room.

Curufinwë sat down where your son had previously sat and slowly took your hands in his, giving you a chance to pull away. You didn’t, at least for now.

“How are you doing?” he asked lowly as he ran his thumb over the back of your hand.

You smiled mirthlessly. “Just fine. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I’m wondering if you’ve changed your mind?”

Your stomach churned – you knew he was referring to whether or not you would accompany him on his accursed journey to Beleriand.

“I haven’t. I’m not coming.” You shot him a warning look towards the end of your sentence. Countless hours had been lost to heated debates on whether or not Curufinwë would be departing alone.

His grip on your hands tightened. “Surely you would not want to deprive our Tyelpë of his mother’s presence.”

You wrought your hands free from his hold and rose to your feet, fists clenched at your sides. “We’ve been over this. You will not take him from me. I won’t allow it.”

Curufinwë rose to his feet as well, towering over you – looking every bit as fiery and determined as his father and yet showing an unusual amount of restraint compared to your previous arguments. Maybe they were wearing him out the same as you. “Am I not his flesh and blood as well? And am I not the one you bound yourself to?”

You could feel his fëa reaching out to yours, a gentle caress that made you shiver and curse yourself. You hated that, despite the sickening blind loyalty he showed to his father, despite all the Elven blood he’d spilled, you still found yourself longing for him. Craving the warmth of his touch and the sweet entanglement of your fëar. He smirked knowingly, able to feel your feelings as if they were his own.

Curufinwë stepped forward and once again gave you a chance to pull away before he wrapped you in his arms. Curse him. Why did he have to still be so considerate of you even now when he had lost this same fight more times than you could count?

His familiar sandalwood scent enveloped your senses, letting a bittersweet comfort wash over you. For a moment there were no destroyed Trees. No dark enemy. No oath threatening to tear your family apart.

“I love you, melda,” he whispered. “And I know you still love me, even if you might try to hide it in shame. I don’t wish to be parted from you and Tyelpë. The thought of being on the other side of the ocean and unable to ever see you again makes my heart weep.”

A wry voice in your head commented that he should’ve considered that before blindly following his father into madness.

It took all your willpower to free yourself from his embrace and take a steady step back. You closed your eyes and only looked at him again after taking a steadying breath.

“I don’t want our son to grow up so blinded by loyalty to his father he’d draw his sword on innocents at his command.” I don’t want him to end up like you, is what you were truly saying, and you both knew it.

“Melda-“

“Don’t call me that,” you said, pleased that your voice didn’t waver.

A sickening sudden thought struck you and you raised your right hand to examine the elegant golden ring on your index finger. It felt like yesterday that the two of you had joined hands in marriage, swearing each other loyalty until the end of Arda. To think that your husband demanded such loyalty even now, after everything he had brought on your family.

You clenched your jaw as you brought up your left hand as well and slowly slid the ring off your finger. It felt wrong. So very wrong. You could feel your fëa roaring in agony as you parted it from Curufinwë’s, a gaping abyss left in its wake.

A mixture of pain and utter betrayal flitted across Curufinwë’s face before it hardened and whatever warmth and vulnerability he had shown you was gone at a moments notice. “We’re leaving in three days,” he said in a strained voice and stomped out the room, slamming the door behind him so harshly the frame shook.

You sank to the ground, your legs not wanting to support you any longer and let out a strangled sob. On sheer instinct your fëa reached out for comfort but found only emptiness which just made you sob harder. You clenched your fist around the wedding band you now held in your hands and finally flung it across the room, hearing a faint clinking from where it landed.

The door creaked open so hesitantly, you knew it couldn’t possibly be your husband returning.

“Ammë?” A shaky voice called out and you hastily tried to wipe your tears away, but it was of no use.

Tyelpë rushed to your side at seeing you so distressed and wrapped his arms around your neck. “Were you arguing again? Atto looked so angry.” You could hear in his voice that he was desperately trying not to cry, but he soon gave in. Few things were as distressing to children as seeing their parents – their safe haven – angry at each other.

You clutched your son to your chest, letting your tears wet his dark hair and feeling steadfast determination bubble up in your chest.

No one would take him from you.

Curufinwë would not drag him across the ocean and poison his mind with his twisted version of loyalty.

You were going to fight tooth and nail to keep Tyelpë safe, this you silently promised him, as you sat there cradling his trembling body.

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS | BILLY LOOMIS X READER 𖤐₊˚.

summary: you know he’s in a relationship. you know that this is wrong. but somehow, you just can’t seem to stay away from billy loomis.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, cheating, billy isn’t a great guy lol, reader is insecure, suggestive content, swearing, fem!reader

a/n: yes this is (admittedly a little loosely) based off of the taylor song… I never claimed I was 100% original!! idk what this is tbh but I haven’t posted in a while so <3

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

He’s barely opened the door before his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the rain and into his warm embrace. He doesn’t even complain about your sodden state, lips crashing into yours as he clumsily backs you against the wall.

“I’m glad you made it, baby.” Billy murmurs in between kisses, voice low with lust. “Fuck, I couldn’t wait any longer. See what you do to me?”

God, it makes it so much easier when he talks to you like that. When he talks like he breathes just for you, like you’d hung the stars and moon. It’s easier to pretend that way. 

It doesn’t take long. One moment, your legs are wrapped around Billy’s strong frame and the next, you’re laying beneath him on his bed, sighing as he works on your neck. The marks he leaves are purposeful, and they’ll no doubt be a pain to cover up tomorrow. You tell Billy exactly that, making sure to inject just the right amount of that teasing tone you know drives him crazy into your voice. 

“Good,” he says lowly, “Lets people know you’re spoken for. Can’t have anyone touching what’s mine.” He grinds down as if to emphasise his point, hips meeting yours in a way that sends a jolt of electric thrill through your bones. 

At least, you think that’s what it’s from; maybe it’s all simply down to his choice of words - mine. He knew what that did to you - what visceral effect it must have on you. Knew how much it meant to you to be wanted and desired and cherished by somebody like Billy Loomis. It was all you’d ever wanted. 

Except…

“Except I’m not.” Your voice barely comes out above a whisper. Billy comes to a halt, his lips moving from your collarbone as his brown eyes meet yours. He looks confused and vulnerable in a way that makes you sorry for even bringing it up, but you can’t ignore it. Not now. Not today. 

“You are. You know that you are. You mean everything to me, just-"

“Just not as much as Sidney, right?” Her name tastes like ash in your mouth. It always came back to Sidney Prescott - sweet, smart, stunning, Sidney. The girl who barely knew you yet always made an effort to smile at you in the hallway and compliment your outfits. The girl whose boyfriend you were sleeping with behind her back. 

From the moment he’d flashed you that charming smirk of his, you knew you were a goner for Billy Loomis. And you’d tried to fight it, you really had. He was bad news, all of your friends thought so, and most importantly, he had a girlfriend. Everybody knew him and Sidney were serious. And you were better than that, sleeping with a taken man. 

Except, as it turns out, you weren’t. Not really, anyway. He didn’t even have to try to get you in bed with him, but after the first time, you’d felt so goddamn guilty that you swore it would never happen again. 

Your resolve lasted an entire week. Billy was like a drug, alluring in every possible way and so entirely addictive. You couldn’t stay away from him even if you tried. And although the guilt never entirely disappeared, it sure as hell became easier to ignore when Billy whispered sweet nothings into your ear and made you feel like you’d had everything you’d been missing your entire life. 

“Sidney?” Billy laughs, a sound almost as beautiful as he is. “Sidney means nothing to me. I’m going to blow her off, and then we can really be together, do it right.”

As awful as it is, the thought of that seems completely compelling. You want to be Billy’s, utterly and solely, more than anything on this earth. Besides, anything would be better than passing him in the hallway and pretending you don’t know every fraction of him so completely intimately.  Pretending like he’s not the first and last thing you think of each day. Pretending that you don’t solely wear the single perfume that he complimented once.

So intimately that you know that, at this moment in time, you can’t believe a single word that flows from his mouth - no matter how desperately you want them to be true. 

“Billy,” you sigh, turning your head away from his pleading gaze. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he replies rather impatiently. “You know it’s-"

“Complicated,” you finish miserably. “I just don’t get why it has to be!”

“Look, I can’t talk about this right now. Can’t we just…” 

He trails off, and his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. It’s too easy to sink into it, to sit back and just let Billy take the lead and give you just what you want. It’s damn near impossible to pull back, but by some miracle, you manage to do so. 

“I’m just saying,” you protest. “If you can’t stand Sidney, if she’s truly as bad as you say she is, why can’t you just end things with her?” The sheer frustration that laces your tone is evident even to you. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this Billy, it’s driving me insane, I-"

“What, so you’re mad at me now?” Billy scoffs, tone completely accusatory. “Because you knew what you were getting into - you’re hardly innocent here, alright! I didn’t trick you into sleeping with me - last I checked, you're perfectly fine with our arrangement when it means you get to be the one under me! So why d’you even care, huh - in fact, why don’t you do us both a favour and keep the fuck out of my business?”

You reel back as if you’ve been slapped. Not because of what was said - you both know the words to be true, however deep down that is - but because of how much they hurt. You knew you were a horrible person, but you hoped that Billy saw you as more than that - you needed him to see you as more than that. And by the way he usually acted in your company when it was just the two of you, you thought that he did. When you were alone, he worshipped you. Fuck, the boy looked at you as if he was completely and utterly in awe of your mere presence. And he’d definitely never snapped at you like this. 

It’s one thing hating yourself for what you’re doing, but it’s another having the one person you love so deeply confirm all the ugly parts of your personality that you work so hard to keep hidden from the world. 

He can evidently read the hurt written all over your face, and Billy’s once irritated gaze softens. “Shit,” he breathes, and you can’t tell if he genuinely sounds remorseful or if you’re naively hearing what you want to believe. 

It’s easier to go with the latter option. 

You make a move to stand, but you feel a strong arm pulling you back down onto the bed below. “I’m so sorry,” Billy apologises, pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m being an ass, I know that. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, baby.” With your arm still in his tight grasp, it would be difficult to stand up without outright pushing him away from you. But with each hushed word Billy speaks, you find yourself wanting to stay more and more. After all, he was right. You were already guilty, and your dignity was clearly long gone. What would be the use in leaving? It’s not like you could fall any further from grace. 

Your eyes flutter closed as Billy kisses all along your jaw, mumbling apologies under his breath as he does so. “I’ll fix everything, I swear. You’ve just gotta trust me,” he vows before his lips suddenly move beside your ear. His breath is hot as he murmurs, “you do trust me, right doll?” A small, pathetic whimper escapes from the back of your throat, and you find yourself nodding before you even decide to move. 

“That’s my girl.” The honey-sweet tone of his voice is enough to make you crumble, and your fingers desperately start to make work of undoing his belt. It doesn’t take long, what with your hands working practically on autopilot. Billy takes the hint, and he eagerly pulls your shirt over your head with ease, strong fingers unclasping your bra once he’s finished. 

You’re making a complete fool of yourself, a bitter voice whispers at the edge of your mind. He’s spelled it out for you, and yet you’re still here, letting him undress you like this. How pitiful. 

It’s not incorrect. Billy Loomis had undoubtedly made a mess of you. Ruined you. Before all of this - and God, how long ago that seemed now - you were good. You were headstrong and assertive, and you’d never been one to let people walk all over you. That girl was a far cry from the person you were now, and she’d undeniably despise the idiotic fool you’d become.  

You wouldn’t exactly blame her, either. You know that when you get home, you won’t even be able to face your own reflection. You never can. 

But you also know damn well that when Billy undoubtedly comes running back to you, because he does, every single time without fail, you’ll blindly follow him right back into his arms - and right back into his bed. 

It’s awful. You know that, no matter how much parts of you try to pretend otherwise. There’s no sugarcoating it, no justification for your actions that aren’t completely shallow and selfish. You just have to hope that one day, you’ll snap out of it. If Billy doesn’t choose you - accept you fully like the way you accepted him long ago - you like to think that one day, you’ll have the self-respect to leave and tell Sidney the truth. Hope she’d accept your shitty excuse of an apology. But as you lay here in this room right now, back arched and Billy in between your legs, you know that day won’t be any time soon.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

[possumdrawsstuff]

THAT SCAR REF SHEET I WAS TALKING ABT FOR JIM!

all of these r based off stuff that happened in canon, if you think I’ve missed any cool opportunities then feel free to point them out! I add them because I believe that while they probably couldn’t have been included in the show for the pg rating and some of the ways he would’ve gained them being somewhat violent (even for trollhunters). I feel they add to his character and in how they would grow over time show how he would gain more and more experience as a trollhunter, yet also gaining more and more pressure and experiences that are probably not the best on jim mentally.

(Ps. I have no lightning scars In my design because lichtenberg scars, while cool looking, don’t usually last)

(Ps ps, the model I used to plan them out is from sketch fab somewhere but as I had originally not made this to post I didn’t save it, if anybody knows the creator, or is the creator, feel free to hit me up and I’ll credit you in the post.

ANYWAY MOVING ON TO THE SCARS AND MY SILLY LITTLE REASONS FOR THEM BEING THEREEE!

This is prolly gonna be angsty but I have an angsty ao3 background (to whoever read my Peter Parker nwh fic yall know ,and I am sorry I haven’t updated lol)

face/ eyebrow scar: I love that they gave him a scar in the movie, however, I didn’t like how it looked very much, especially with how he got it. I mean ARRRGHHH! Literally punched him so hard (love him Frfr but bro was not messing around even w Jim) that stone on stone had enough force to scratch some off of his face, this is why I usually make it look messier and more like scratchy scars rather than the clean cut from wizards/the unspeakable movie

2. GOBLIN/GENERAL SCARS: ok y’all I haven’t seen many other people do these but they are ver important to me 😌. Just scars from sparring could be all of these, the heroes forge has literal flying axes like ?? and in earlier seasons he didn’t always have his armor on or have a helmet at his disposal so I think he would to have had to have been nicked pretty good at least once or twice. Then there’s the goblin scars, In my version they told Barbara that it was racoons that got him , but the idea is that for Jim to have landed in the hospital he must have been hurt pretty badly that night, so, I would imagine that even while facing nomura Jim was fighting against the effects of blood loss also.

3.Angor rot: if you couldn’t tell by the photo it doesn’t show up in this! HOWEVER in my silly little side project (I’m sure some of you can probably guess what it is and if you can’t, idk look at some of my reblogs and you’ll probably find it, BUT! because it takes place after canon (yes including the movie) but also has some crunchy plot twisting In the background, the angry rot man face thing (I cant remember the name of it right now for the life of me please) will show up whenever he comes near to Jim, even if time is messed up, angor rot is back and technically hasn’t died yet so yes Jim gets the spoopy glowy thing.

4.amulet scar: idk if anybody remembers but when the arcane order took Jim’s amulet, he got scars from it right? It can be seen on his beast design is all of the tendrils leeching out from the indent of the amulet, my thinking is if his human form also got scarred by ARRGHHH! Why didn’t this scar translate too? Then again it could’ve but Jim is obviously a big fan of blue jacket*tm* so we will never know, I think he did but idk 🤷‍♀️

5.Bellroc- HEY SO ANYBODY REMEMBER WHEN BELLROC LITERALLY IMPALES JIM ON HER FLAMING STAFF!?! AND HE JUST KEPT GOING AFTER GETTING THE ARMOR!?! LIKE HE DIDNT JUST GET IMPALED? (This is partly why I think he gets like an adrenaline rush magic thingy as seen in some fic i read at some point PLEASE TELL ME IF ITS YOUR FIC I LOST IT PLEASE) YA that’s gonna leave a mark! the wound I’m guessing instantly cauterized so while yes it would hurt really bad I take that as why he was just running around after the armor.

6.burnt hand, another thing that happened in the movie but didn’t really get wrapped up in the end, Jim burnt his left hand on the gaggletac (idk how to spell it) and it just stayed bandaged for the rest of the movie, so it is also included on this list

7.back scars from bular: this one is probably the stretchiest one in this list but I think that it would have been an AMAZING addition to the plot character development wise. In one scene we see bular literally crushing and sliding Jim up the bridges interior wall and Jim is literally like silently screaming in this scene (thank you Guillermo /im sad for my son) and I like to think that after rushing over and doing Romeo and Juliet, Jim got off stage, practically ran over some people trying to get home because he can feel it, the whole play. This gives him some insight on the dangers of troll hunting. Yes I know this was a lesson beforehand but this is in the arc along with the goblins where Jim is learning he’s going to have to make personal sacrifices to keep up this troll hunting thing, including his mental health probably , it will serve as a very physical reminder of the constant danger he is now and will probably forever be in (in case y’all couldn’t tell that I’ve watched Spider-Man nwh like 8 times I’m out for blood on this one)

8.face scar from morgana: slinging the mood back around and also calling back to the “scars gained while Jim is a troll also get applied to his human form”, in like one of the last episodes maybe 2nd to last or the very last one in the final battle with morgana, she scratches Jim’s cheek with a throwing dagger and from what I can remember I thought it actually stayed on his face throughout the end of the series, I could be deluxe but I still like to add it for some reminder of the OG final battle.

not mentioned here- little pit in the amulet indention from the dark shard, and various scars from the dark lands.

if you read that entire rant I’m sorry , enjoy!

[magpiepills]

Misunderstood

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!resder

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Marcus has a bad day at work and needs you to help him feel better.

Warnings: SMUT, established relationship, PIV, oral (f and m receiving) fingering, big dick Marcus, multiple orgasms, thumb sucking, cum eating, cum swapping, dirty talk, some degradation, use of a tie as a leash sort of?, alcohol consumption, pancakes, cardigans, NPR, idk what else man, this is not fluffy Marcus.

A word from the author: this is a repost! I’ve got no idea what happened here. I was up at 5 am writing Marcus Pike smut. I haven’t even seen the mentalist. Thanks to the magic sluts, home is where the whores are!

The door opened and closed with a familiar sound, but ushered in an energy that was foreign to the serene atmosphere of your apartment. “Fucking…art crime.” Marcus muttered, taking off his jacket as if it was responsible for his sour mood. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his once crisp white shirt, now wilted with sweat and the dirt of the day.

You dried the last plate and put it in its slot in the cabinet before going to greet your love.

Quiet, like you were approaching a deer, trying not to startle him, you sank onto the sofa beside where he slumped, jaw set and eyes boring into the middle distance.

“Marcus, I'm glad you’re home. I'm just about to start dinner. H-how was your day?” Your voice was soft and warm, meant to soothe, but it was a foolish question. The crease between his eyebrows was all you needed to see.

Thinking better than to press him, you went to the bar cart and poured a generous splash of whiskey.

“Hard day.” Was all he offered.

Finishing the glass in two gulps, Marcus handed the glass back to you, “more” he requested wordlessly. You obliged, another heavy pour and this time he drank it slowly, turning the glass in his hand to watch the light shift in the etched glass while you watched, eager to help him forget whatever had him wound so tight.

Of course no one saw what you saw. They saw his easy, affable manner, his smooth shaven jaw, his casual Friday cardigans, how he listened when people talked, how he laughed at dumb jokes, how he always refilled he coffee pot, and they saw all of these qualities, and they chalked them up as weakness.

They didn’t see how his eyes glowed dark, how his hand held firm in your hair, cracked against the round of your ass, didn’t hear him whispering into your ear all the methods he had thought of for ruining you while he waited for the coffee to brew in the break room.

Maybe they’d regard him with a bit more authority if they heard how commanding he could be when he sat his glass on the coffee table and told you to come suck it. Maybe if they saw how he slipped his tie over your head, wound it around his fist and tugged your face to the straining erection under his sensible slacks they’d take him a little more seriously. If they could just see him now.

Your knees burnt as they dug into the rug that sweet Marcus had carried up the stairs to your apartment for you. Your eyes watered as his cock filled your throat, nudging almost far enough to make you gag. “Yeah. Just like that, baby. Breathe through your nose. Get it wet.” He eased his grip on the tie enough to let you move, making room to wrap your hand around his shaft and pump it while you hollowed your cheeks over the fat head of his cock, lips sliding smoothly over his foreskin, before you pulled it gently down and sucked in earnest. You wanted for all of his focus to be solely between his legs. You watched his eyes as he watched you spit on his cock, using your hand to spread it up and down his length while you licked his balls, cradling them on your tongue. You worked him steadily while his head fell back against the couch, eyes closed as he rocked his hips to meet your mouth. “Fuck. Fuuuuuck. Oh, baby. Suck it so good.” His hips rocked more urgently, his words slurred as he inched closer to his release and you eagerly waited to taste his cum. You’d let him film your mouth then show him how it covered your tongue, dripped down your chin before swallowing it down and pushing the drops that escape back into your mouth before you open, letting him see that you’ve gratefully swallowed every drop.

You don’t get to show him though, because he’s hooking his thick hungers back into the circle of fabric around your neck and pulling you off of him with a wet pop and a hiss. He smacks your cheek, more affection than sting, but you can feel how much he needs you to surrender to him. He’s in no mood for putting you in your place tonight. Keeping his fingers looped through the fabric he sits up straighter and watches as you rub your pussy with your hand under your dress, suddenly shy as he looms over you. Marcus watches a moment before he sighs and nods, as if finally understanding. “Sucking cock makes your pussy wet, hm? Can’t help but get on your knees and rub your pussy, huh, baby?” An image floats before his eyes, you on your knees, sucking him deep and hard while he watches you fuck yourself on that dildo he bought you, the one with the suction cup, the one he could stick on the mirror in the hallway so he could watch the way your pussy stretched and gripped the purple silicone, taking it and his cock at the same time. He files that thought away for next time, too far gone to fool with toys right now.

“Take all that off.” He gestures at you, tugging his own shirt over his head, hurriedly kicking his pants to the side, naked so he can feel your hot skin on his when he pulls you to the floor by his tie around your neck, the only thing you’ve left on. He lays you down between the couch and coffee table, a narrow space just big enough for the two of you. He likes how you’ll let him take you however he wants, wherever he wants. You’re a vessel for him to fill. Marcus takes a moment to smooth down the striped fabric of his tie, admiring the way it falls between your breasts. You try not to squirm, but you’re dripping for him, an achy throb in your cunt that only his cock can quell.

You love Marcus when he’s a gentle, tender lover. Love him when he brings home fresh bread from the best bakery, when he makes you pancakes while he listens to Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me on lazy Saturday mornings, when he holds your hand in museums, squeezing you as you lean your head on his shoulder, lost in the romance of the Baroques and the Rococos. You love him now as he pushes your knees up, grabbing your hand, showing you how he wants you to hold yourself open to him, giving him unfettered access to your puffy, slick cunt. Using his thumbs, he spreads you open, slips over your folds, teasing your clit with a roll of his digits, teases your entrance with them, pushing his thumb into you just one knuckle deep before dragging it back out to distribute more of your wetness, replacing it with his other thumb before repeating the motion, alternating thumbs, sliding up over your clit, faster and faster he moves, dripping saliva onto you to add to the squelching sounds. Winding your hips, you focus on your orgasm, just in reach when suddenly you’re being stretched further, two thumbs in your fluttering cunt, flat fingers against your clit making you cry out, body taut as your orgasm is pulled from you by the hands of the only man that owns you this way.

Before you can catch your breath, his hand is back on the tie, pulling you up to watch as he spears into you. He wishes he could go faster, he needs to be inside, but you’re so tight and his cock is so big he has to go slow. Wet thumb sliding around, over your clit and around his cock where he’s desperate to enter you, soothing the skin there with his touch, gentle despite his frenzy. You dare to look up and see him, snarling, mad with lust, teeth bared and chest heaving. “Fuck me Marcus. Please, daddy. Need your big cock so bad.” You whine. He doubles his efforts at your provocation, pushing in further, shallow thrusts becoming faster and deeper until he’s all the way in, head firmly pushed into your cervix and balls against your ass. There’s no air left in your lungs to ask him to please move already. Mercifully, he doesn’t wait long. He studies your face, your wet eyelashes, your mouth agape, cheeks and chest flushed pink, the face of a woman in need of a good fuck and he relents. He starts slowly, picking up speed, pulling out and slamming in and just the right angle to drag the coarse hair at the base of his cock over your swollen clit. It’s a lot. He sees it in your eyes, feels it in the way you squeeze his cock so tight. You’re close.

“You gonna come on daddy’s cock? Hm? You wait all day just for me to come home and fuck you like this? Treat you like a slut? Fuck you on the floor?” You try hard to answer him but all you can force out it a pathetic “yesyesyes!” As you squeeze your tits and pluck at your nipples the way he does, but not quite the same. It’s almost enough. Marcus can see that. He sees you right up against your second orgasm but unable to grasp it. He needs you to get there so he can follow you, Jack and Jill and the pail of water. He keeps his steady rhythm, holds his angle, and reaches to hold your cheek in his warm hand. He rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down until you open your mouth for him to slide it in, letting you taste yourself on his skin when he presses it into your tongue. It’s enough. More than enough. Your legs shake and your legs tighten around his waist. Words and meaning are lost between you. “Fuck, baby. Oh fuck. Oh! Ohhhhhhh.” He whimpers as your orgasm milks him of his own, draining every drop of cum from him.

You collect yourselves slowly, arms around his neck, him settled over you, kissing your face, whispering his love, his tie still hanging loose around your neck. You scratch his back, kiss his shoulder, and tap his side to let you up, you stand on shaky legs, not quite ready for gravity. You wonder what to make for dinner, consider resorting to takeout so you can just eat in bed. You think aloud, expecting some input from Marcus, but instead he holds your hips and directs you onto the couch, positioning you with your knees at the edge and your elbows on the back cushion so he can kneel behind you. You gasp, “Marcus! Marc-!” But he pays you no mind. Just licks messy stripes through your sensitive pussy, tasting himself, tasting you, humming at the vulgarity of what he’s doing, teasing your clit to make you shiver and flinch. Satisfied at last, he eases you onto your back to kiss you deep, sharing your combined flavor before taking your hand and leading you to the shower. Dinner can wait.

[mirrored-movements]

My little Moth

(Yandere Miguel O'Hara x Moth!Reader)

Synopsis: When someone is a mix between two species- who's to say things can't go awry? You certainly didn't expect this city to have, spiders.

Warnings: Stalking, Obsessive behaviour, Breaking and entering, Non-consensual touching, Biting, Use of paralytic agent (Tee hee), Non-consensual drugging (Near the end), Idk maybe more but I forgot

Your heart pounded from within your chest, lungs struggling to catch up with the sudden action and hair standing on edge. The fur around your neck bristling as did the fur coating your antenna, a sore attempt at scaring off your persuer however that had already failed miserably.

The rough concrete below dug into your skin, little scrapes and cuts beginning bloom across the surface all the while your wings twitched pathetically against the stranger that’d pinned your down. A heaving chest was pressed against the centre of your back, heavy breaths rusling the hair along the side of your face.

“Please…-” A pathetic whimper left your lips as a nose had nuzzled itself into the crook of your neck, the dusty fur being blown about from their deep breaths.

How did taking a late-night stroll lead to this? You had no clue.

The hand that’d been planted against the back of your head seemingly began to retract, the person body releasing a low chirr. “Stay down.” It was a low command, something that was spoken almost directly into your ear considering the man's previous proximity to your face.

Another second or two passed, his face once again pressing against the length of your neck before pulling back in a quick succession. His body raised from yours and as quickly as things happened- it was over.

The only thing being left behind was the disappearing glow of his webs and your racing heart.

Remaining frozen in place the hairs across your body remained standing, as though you were expecting the perpetrator to come back.

However he did not and you were able to somewhat collect yourself in order to leave, eyes darting every which way until you’d made it to the safety of your home.

---

That night you barely slept a wink, eyelids heavy the next morning as you began your daily routine. With careful precision you brushed at your hair and fur adamantly, a sort of ick running up your spine as part of the tuffs had been flattened.

Fluffing it back up after you splashed some water onto your face, a deep breath of air entered your lungs as you’d murmured a sort of quiet affirmation, inevitably leaving the comfort of your apartment in favour of some more professionally made beverage.

Something hot should wake you up- surely.

“Damn you look like shit, did you sleep at all?” The friendly barista whom you’d gotten the chance to befriend upon first moving into town tilted her head while extending your drink over, her eyes sharing some playful worry assuming that you’d just stayed up to watch a TV show again.

Gratefully accepting the cup you blew gingerly across the top of the scolding liquid, lips coming to press across the rim taking a much-needed sip before answering. “Just couldn’t sleep. Is all, still have some unpacking to do.” the lie left your lips effortlessly, you’d unpacked weeks ago but it wasn’t like she knew.

She was still a new friend, there was no way you could just- dump a random event on her just yet.

“You still haven't unpacked everything?” Leaning over the table dividing the employees from customers she stared at you incredulously before letting out a soft laugh shaking her head. “Of course you haven’t- well if you need any help just send me a text. A hangout is long overdue.”

Nodding your head you bid her a short wave, shoes tapping against the establishment's wooden flooring before stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk. 

There must’ve been some sort of bad juju that had attached itself onto you or something- because as soon as you’d rounded the corner the hairs across your body rose stiffly. Antenna twitching at the sight of what looked to have been an airborne fight; the forms of two individuals clearly present.

One dawned large leathery wings and bat-like features; while the other donned a simple form-fitting suit.

Blue and red.

You paled a little at the sight, familiarity wracking through your body at not just the individual but at the sight of the neon-colored webs. Something that right away inhibited the aggressor's actions effectively gluing the bat-like creature to a nearby building.

Just relax, you weren’t the only person watching the fight unfold.

Your antenna were the first to detect it, the wings attached to the back of your body nearly flaring up in response; a stare so strong that it could melt your very being could be felt, a mixture of emotions hidden away beneath the hero’s costume barely concealing the thinly veiled intent.

Your eyes feared leaving his form, scared that in doing so it would show some form of compliance- you at least needed to stand your ground a little, especially when there were people around giving you false confidence.

The red de-called mask stared down at the crowd for a moment more, only disappearing fully once the sirens of police cars made themself known.

Suddenly you didn't want your drink anymore.

---

Tiredly entering your apartment after a long tedious day you stifled a yawn, hand raising to rub at your tired eyes, wings dragging across the floor behind you like a cape- you had no strength to keep them tucked in.

Trying to go about your evening routine you’d eventually just found yourself drifting off among the worn cushions of your sofa, wings thrown across yourself like a makeshift blanket and antenna flopping onto the cushions as well- the two occasionally twitching.

Sleep had seemed to illude you for the past two days; your mind practically craving it enough that it chose to ignore the cool chill of air creeping into your apartment, choosing to block out the shifting of curtains and choosing to pass off the carefully silent footsteps as the building settling.

It took him a bit to clear his schedule for this, suit-clad feet padding softly across the quaint apartment.

The place practically invaded his senses; trinkets of yours, decorations of yours, everything of yours.

He’d been trying to ween off his stabilizers recently, finding that he worked faster- more efficiently without them, however, the drawbacks were only brought to light when you’d crossed his path that faithful night.

It was like a switched was flipped in the deep caverns of his mind, something that craved the chase, craved the smell, craved the feeling of something much smaller- much more fragile and something…that fit hand in hand with his own biology.

And oh, how you fit perfectly.

A breath was taken, his attention shifting at the sound of a short sigh. The sofa had become the main item of interest quickly, every nerve in his body practically screaming against the slow pace he’d taken to approach it, eyes drifting across the tightly curled-up form of you.

Your wings appeared to have become loosely thrown about, one being held delicately between your hands like a blanket whereas the other was pressed up awkwardly against the cushions, your antenna bobbing up and down twitching occasionally.

How cute.

Raising a hand he leaned over the back of the couch, careful not to move the piece of furniture as that would surely wake you. The tips of his fingers just barely skimmed the curve of your chin following it up toward your ear, the gesture drawing out a quiet hum from you and a low satisfied hum from him.

You’re lucky things weren’t ready yet- Or at least that's what he thought before willing himself to leave the apartment, claws unknowingly leaving indented scrapes along your windowsill.

Upon waking up in the morning you could just tell something was wrong, the temperature of your apartment was low- almost bone chilling compared to the usual warm temperature you kept it at.

Rising up from your spot on the couch your antenna twitched, nose raising up to sniff the air before the hair around your neck began to raise. Head twisting around to stare into every corner of your apartment and feet hesitantly beginning you to each room as if expecting something to jump out.

The air was distinctly different; a sort of spiced fragrant barely being noted alongside a musky note- the latter in particular causing your wings to tuck closer into yourself, the appendages becoming some sort of safety blanket.

Danger. It smelled like danger.

Straining your ears for anything you’d trailed back into the living room, eyes snapping towards the gentle movement of one of your curtains the window shielded by them seemingly open and the reason for your apartment's cool temperature.

However, despite wanting to believe you had mistakenly left it open, the pair of scraps lining the windowsill told you otherwise.

Your apartment wasn’t safe.

---

“Of course, you can stay over! I’ve been dying to just have a girl's night.” Your friend seemingly welcomed the idea instantly, her face lighting up in excitement having invited you over plenty of times previously only to be met with a gentle decline. “I can grab some wine and we can watch some old shitty horror movies- this is going to be so fun!”

Nodding along and trying to reflect back her excitement you couldn’t help but remain tense, the feeling of being observed present and blatantly obvious since leaving your apartment that morning.

“Sounds good, uh when do you get off?” Shifting your hold on the to-go cup in hand you shifted in place trying to pass off your blatant uncomfort- not towards your friend but towards the way the hairs on the back of your neck rose.

Go away.

“I get off at around 4.” Seeing you nod your head she smiled once more in excitement. “This is going to be so fun I can’t wait.”

“Can’t wait either.” Sparing a few more words you took your leave, your pace quick and your heart began to speed up within your chest. Looking around seemed fruitless as nothing out of the ordinary stood out.

Lost in paranoia you’d failed to slow your pace upon rounding a corner, the beverage you held as well as yourself crashing not so gracefully into the large body of someone. Apologies right away spilled from your lips however a hand landing on your shoulder halted them.

The feeling and pressure of it practically burned you, your body tensing beneath the stranger's hand as your gaze followed it up.

Deep brown pools stared down at you, the man’s gaze coming across as worried although there were hints of auburn that challenged that worry. His brows were furrowed faintly, the shape of them fitting well with his sharp features, as did the brushed-back brown hair.

He was tall, very tall and had the scent of spice.

Unable to hold yourself from jolting back as his other hand waved in front of you, your forgotten he’d already been holding your shoulder.

“-are you alright?” His voice was deep, pleasant even but the timber of it had your attention instantly, a sort of uncomfortable feeling ran beneath your skin as you couldn’t quite pinpoint why this stranger had your senses going crazy.

“Oh uh yeah I’m fine.” Swallowing down your apprehension you apologized once again. “Sorry for crashing into you, I hope nothing got on you.” At the mention of that your eyes briefly trailed over him once more- it seemed like you got the entirety of the drink on yourself.

“Are you sure? It wasn’t hot was it?” Despite the question coming across as concerned you couldn’t help but begin to bristle, the fur around your neck brushing up against the strangers hand.

Why? What’s wrong? What’s making you so- scared?

“I’m sure-I’m sure uh I should get going,” Casting your gaze around you nodded your head along with what you were saying, the dampness of your clothes and this strangers presence both leaving you in varying levels of discomfort.

 Noting the way you tensed beneath his hand, he let out a hum, gaze fixed to your face. “Right, sorry for keeping you. Try not to run into anyone else.” The last bit of his sentence seemed teasing, albeit it felt more like a warning than anything else but you took that as your ticket to leave.

Your head bobbing into a nod at what he’d said and when he’d finally raised his hand from your shoulder did you walk past him, continuing for a few blocks until it turned into a jog.

You wanted to get out of there.

Tilting his head over his shoulder to watch you disappear into the crowd he pressed a hand against his lower face, head shaking from side to side as the corner of his lips curled up.

You were adorable.

---

“-and then we had this crazy lady come in who literally ordered the most complicated drink I’ve ever heard of,” your friend paused to take what she’d declare was a much needed sip from her wineglass continuing right after. “And the best part was,” she leaned towards you. “We just gave her a frappe. I mean she didn’t care and just kinda left after but what a grumpy old bat.”

Having been nursing your own wine glass you hummed back indicating that you’d been listening. Your friend chiming back in after to ask how your day had gone. 

“Well I mean could’ve been better,” Finding that your words were a little slow you shook your head following in your friends lead of just downing the whole glass. “I ran into the strangest person- some giant of a man, spilled my drink and everything.”

“Was he hot?”

You gave her a stern side eye, rolling them right after when she’d held up her hand in surrender.

Another glass was poured for the each of you.

“I don’t know it was just strange, I felt like I knew him- but I’ve never seen him in my life.” At least that’s what you assumed.

“Does this have to do with all that?” Her hands motioned towards your more animal like qualities while questioning their part in how you felt.

“Problably- but I don’t know lately I’ve just- I haven’t been having a good time you know,” you might as well just spill what has happened- it wasn’t good to keep everything to yourself.

“Few days ago I got jumped while walking home- dude was like freaking out or something and then after that someone’s been coming into my apartment- crazy shit really.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or exhaustion that made you not take what you were saying as seriously as it sounded.

The buzz going on in your brain felt nice despite the topic of conversation.

“Damn,” Processing what you’d said she hummed in thought, wine glass raising into a cheer as she herself was past the point of sobriety. “Well you know what I say? I say I’ve got a new roomie.”

“What? No I can-“ “Nuh huh none of that what’s said is in stone, this mother fucker can go through me first.” Although her words were slurred you took it to heart, lips curling up into a genuine smile while you raised your own glass to cheers with her.

After that whole conversation the two of you wasted no time in polishing off one of the wine bottles- your friend doing more of the drinking than you had however at this stage you both were way past sobriety.

Being the most functional out of the two of you, you’d dragged your passed out friend into her room. Your own body swaying with each step as you’d not so gracefully dragged her into her bed turning around with the intent of cleaning up at least a bit.

Maybe put the glasses away.

During this whole ‘dragging your drunken friend to her room’ scenario your fur had flared up, antenna puffy as well but swinging around in response to the alcohol in your system. Your brain hadn’t quite registered the signals that the rest of your body was trying to omit. 

Instead you just mindless picked up the empty bottle resting on the ground, a sudden need to turn around registered once your hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

The item being raised as swiftly as your dizzy brain could only to be stopped once it was in the air, the tight grip that had found its way around the wrist that held the bottle caused cold dread to fill your veins. Antenna flattening against your head and wings tucking so tightly into your back that you thought they might fall off.

“No need for that.” 

Your heart stuttered from within your chest, eyes blown wide at the sight of the very person who’s been plaguing your life. The thumb of his hand seem to press roughly into the veins on your wrist, a high pitched noise forcing its way out of your mouth as the hand that held the bottle was made to open, the item quickly being set aside by neon threads.

The noise you’d made set his mind ablaze.

With his hand still wrapped around your small wrist he’d tugged you forward, your arm raised awkwardly while your other hand went to put some space between the both of you- inevitably just being squished as his other arm came to secure itself across your back.

Your wings tried to flutter in discomfort, hand that’d been raised in the air now beginning to lose its feeling as pins and needles began to set in.

The sound of your heartbeat practically thundered through the apartment, the thought of calling for help drew across your blurry brain however what was anyone supposed to do?

This was someone who was supposed to protect the city- what if you were just thought of as some sort of bad guy? What if- your sporadic thought were cut short as he leaned forward, head nestling itself into the crook of your neck like he’d done during your first faithful encounter.

His deep inhale and exhales had goosebumps rising across your skin, your fur standing stiffly despite not doing anything to ward off the man.

A deep rumble erupted from him, a mix between contentment and annoyance.

The hand across your back tightened.

“Was he hot?” The deep timbres of his voice had you reeling in on yourself, his warm breath breaching through his mask onto your skin.

“What?” You hadn’t a clue what he was asking.

“The man you’d run into. The ‘giant of a man’ as you’d said.” This had you feeling even more uneasy than you already were, him asking that only meant he’d heard your and your friends whole conversation.

He’d been there this whole time.

Swallowing thickly you thought carefully about how to respond, this man could break every bone in your body if he so desired- at least that’s what you thought.

“Well?”

With a quiet squeak at the pressure he’d suddenly applied to your raised wrist you answered. “I think so?” The pressure on your wrist continued leading you to sputter out some more words. “Yes sure I don’t think he was bad looking- please- I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Like a pressure had been taken off your chest he’d mercifully released your wrist allowing your arm to fall back to your side. 

There was a moment of tense silence before he’d pulled back a little, the feeling he was about to say something could be felt however much to your delight it seemed as though someone was calling him.

Now why Spider-Man had a work phone was beyond you- it didn’t matter right now.

“cabrón de mierda-“ The foreign language right away hit your ears; you didn’t need to know what he said to know that he was pissed.

Not your problem- your problem right now was trying to figure out how to get yourself to safety.

Stiffly watching the man begin typing something into his watch, you took the opportunity to creep towards the fire escape, your fingers coming to rest on the handle near the bottom trying to unlock it as quiety as you could.

The hinge creaked.

With a jolt, you squeaked in surprise as a neon orange web stuck the hand that’d been trying to open the door aside. Your breath beginning to hitch as you tugged pathetically against the web, head turning to the side noting how his mask clad face was turned your way.

“Listen, I’m busy. Call you later.”

His jaw clenched beneath his mask, the call ending quickly and just the silence of the apartment engulfed the two of you.

Shrinking in on yourself as his tall frame approached, your antenna flattened against the crown of your head. “Please- what do you want.” Struggling some more against the webbing you clenched your eyes shut as his hand raised.

He seemed to just take a moment to caress your head softly, his other hand coming to rest on the window behind you before wrapping his arms around you as if it were a comforting hug. “Mi polilla. Mi pequeña polilla,” His hand continued to pet the back of your head, his head coming down the rest in the crook of your shoulder once more. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

 “Do you want money?-valuables? Please-” “I have all I need here.”

Your heart stuttered within your chest and the sound of small metallic clinks filled your ears, brushed back brown hair popped into your peripheral however before you could think much about it your body tensed more at the feeling of lips beginning to pepper your skin.

A squeak left you and a low rumble left him.

“You’re everything I need,” He breathed out into your ear, lips ghosting over it. “Wanted.” Pressing a peck to your cheek he pulled back enough to look you in the eye, his suit covered hand moving to cup your face pressing a thumb and forefinger into your cheeks.

Your eyes widened as the man you’d crashed into stood before you- this, this was why your senses were going crazy.

This-

He was there all along.

Seeing the way all your thoughts connected he let out an airy laugh, the warmth from it caressing your face. His thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, eyes zeroing on the way his grip had caused your lips to pucker.

“You’re everything I desire.” Without waiting anylonger he’d leaned forward, lips mashing into your own, moving with a long awaited eagerness and hunger. His grip was bruising, the hand on your face keeping you from moving away despite the quiet squeaks you’d let out, it only seemed to spur him on more.

Sharp point of his canines nipping at the tender skin of your lower lips, as if asking for permission before inevitably invading the cavern of your mouth. A choked up noise left you in the form of a breathy whine, your wings twitched behind you all the while your fur stood on edge. Your free hand tried desperately to push the man away however it ended up getting sandwiched between the both of you.

Pulling away after what felt like an eternity the hand that pressed into your cheeks had fallen, instead moving to curl around your free hand- fingers lacing with yours as though you were a mere couple.

“(Y/N), my (Y/N), my little moth.” Purring out the words he trailed his lips back down the curve of your chin pausing right down the middle. He could feel your pulse thrumming beneath the skin, breaths hard and fast, mind going a mile a minute.

“I’ll be the first and last thing you think about day and night.”

“Just let me go.” Trails of salty liquid began to trickle down the side of your cheeks, heart stuttering within your chest. “I promise I won’t say anything- I, I don’t even know your name.”

Hearing the way your soft voice stuttered, stumbling over your words he could only shake his head letting out a sigh, lips raising to peck the base of your timple, his words caressing your ear. “Miguel sweetheart, and I’m sure you’d keep that promise,”

He paused trailing back towards the column of your neck, lips curling up to reveal pearly white fangs. “If I had the intentions to let you go.”

A loud yell was close to leaving your lips had he not moved his hand from the window to cover it, your eyes were teary once again, the sharp pain in your neck had you squirming- sock clad feet slipping against the floor trying one more fruitless escape attempt that, deep in your mind you knew wouldn’t work anyways.

Appart from the bite, something else could be felt- a cold fog creeped through your body, pins and needles beginning to set in and everything was beginning to feel too heavy to hold. Your eyes barely trailing to the side in order to see the brunette pull away, trickles of red smeared across his lips. The mans eyes glowing a dim crimson colour.

Standing back up he stared down at you, an amused tint to his expression as he’d effortlessly ripped the webs sticking your hand to the wall. His hands right after coming to cradle you as your legs gave out, mind growing hazy.

Your tongue felt heavy, the overwhelming sense of danger quickly dissapearing within a sheet of paralysis.

Casting his gaze back down he let out a deep churr, satisfied with the situation.

His lips came down to gently press against the crown of your head, his words melting into the city’s ambiance as he’d easily slid open the window you struggled with.

“All mine.”

----

<Unedited>

Any complaints can be left at the door <3

[pornoes]

This is a long post. I had a really unsettling moment when seeing former coworkers outside of work for the first time two days ago. I just need to get it in writing and outside of my own head

I went to hang out with two former coworkers for the first time at an indoor mini golf place. We’d literally been talking about this idea for 3 years and finally made it happen. The other two currently work together, but I actually haven’t worked there since 2021 so it was like a small reunion/“getting to know each other” moment all rolled into one for me.

Mini golf was popular that day and the wait was super long. After we had finished our snacks and drinks, one of my coworkers was like “hey, fuck it, do you all wanna just go back to my apartment and hang out instead?” The other girl agreed immediately. I politely declined, cuz at first I thought I would be a 3rd wheel cuz they know each other better, but they were super insistent and reassuring that I should join, implied that it would be rude if I didn’t, so I agreed to tag along.

When we got there, it was actually much nicer than at the mini golf place. I could finally hear what everyone is saying since there wasn’t a crowd of people. The conversation was flowing easier and I was feeling comfortable. Then the coworker with the apartment was like, “im taking mushrooms now if anyone wants to join” and both of us declined, so she just took a small amount on her own. The three of us got to chatting, and after like 30 min the non-tripping coworker decided to head out cuz she needed to get back to her baby. i decided to hang back for a little longer. Idk. In hindsight I should have just left at this point too but at the time everything felt fine and I was enjoying it.

I should mention that I’m used to being around people who are high on various plants. I have been unphased by it pretty much 100% of the time. In my past life, back when I was a “bad influence”, I was often there for people’s first time getting high and have been a successful trip sitter several times before. So it wasn’t strange to me to be around someone tripping. Looking back, it was a bold choice on her part to do psychedelics in front of people she’s hanging out with for the first time, but imo that’s more on her than me. And at the time, well, we live in a pretty funky city and this whole scenario didn’t even feel outside of the usual to me.

Anyway. At this point it was just me and my tripping coworker. She was honestly acting incredibly normal, albeit more comfortable. After maybe 30 more minutes I asked her if anything looked cool and trippy to her and she laughed and said, “I’m not THAT fucked up. I didn’t take that much”. (Keep that in mind!) So we were talking, she was asking for advice about this crush she has… it was kinda cute. A girls night moment. The conversation progressed to more open topics about gender, sexuality, and our places in the world, which I am so down for. I love talking about big picture things and, while maybe my coworker was just being more open cuz of the mushrooms, I am just naturally like that.

During the conversation she started dropping little remarks in like, “I can’t believe you’re still here” in this markedly incredulous (and not annoyed) tone of voice. Each time I told her no worries, I would leave & head home & we should do it again some time. But each time she told that’s not what she meant and that she wanted me to stay. She clarified that she just meant it was unreal because it took 3 years to happen, and in her words I was so “normal and chic” and she was so “weird”. Whatever that means, right?

And then…. Idk. Things started going downhill rapidly.

She started bringing up stuff about poor mental health. How hard of a time everything is and how she feels alone. I stayed positive, acknowledging her and then trying to distract her and break that train of thought. I mean, that’s what you need to do to stop a negative spiral on mushrooms. Address it and reroute it. Man, I should have just left, but at this point I felt somewhat responsible to help prevent a bad trip because I was the sober one and she on the edge of spiraling. It felt like how you can’t just leave your drunk friend to fend for themselves, you know? I mean we weren’t even friends yet, but still. In the moment it felt like I needed to at least make sure she would be okay if I left. In the moment it felt like the right thing to do. And I foolishly thought it would get better. I mean, the entire rest of the night had been really pleasant. Surely it would continue being pleasant, right?

Well, not at all. Conversation kept slipping in and out of pleasant, with these sprinklings of dark in between that just grew and grew. The last 10 minutes that I was there were… intense.

She said again, “I can’t believe you are here, youre so normal. You’re in this weird apartment and you don’t even feel threatened”. She told me she always says “cruel insults” to people and how she was trying so hard not to insult me. She started telling me how she is a “damaged person” and she “balls up that damage” and “throws it and hurts” the people she loves. I thought she meant that metaphorically, but then she raised her fist at me before slowly putting it back down. I could like, see her talking herself out of whatever she was about to do as she lowered her hand. Then she said “look in my eyes” and so I did, cuz my plan for how leave with minimal collateral damage hadn’t been hatched yet.

She stared at me and asked “what do you see?” And I saw I’ll be honest, all I saw was eyeballs. Duh. So I said “I don’t know, I see your eyes? I’m not sure what I’m supposed to see.” and she said “you don’t see anything, do you? There’s nothing. I’m not like other people. There’s nothing inside of me. I act like there is, but there isn’t”.

All of these pieces fell into place: the disbelief that I would be there, the disbelief that I didn’t feel “threatened”, the bubbling contempt when she said she wanted to insult me, bringing up violence, raising her fist. And to top it off, she had told me repeatedly that she wasn’t even that high and that the dose she took was super small. Can’t even blame the mushrooms for this one. It was like she just admitted to being a psychopath and i suddenly became very afraid for my safety.

So I was like, well look at the time I gotta go. Of course it took something like 15 more minutes to get out the door because, as I expected and was trying to avoid, it just made her spiral more. Idk. I felt horrible, I had to quickly make all these empty promises (we’ll hang out again, everything is fine, no I’m not upset, it’s totally cool, I’ll call you later) and i fundamentally do not like lying to people. Plus it felt like diffusing a bomb on top of that. Say the wrong thing and send her deeper into this spiral (or worse). Say the right thing and she’s begging me to stay and it all starts over.

It was just horrible. And what I fool I am for not just leaving!!! What a fool I was for assuming that someone who would confidently take mushrooms would have also mentally prepared themselves for the trip. What a fool I was for not realizing I don’t know this person well enough for that assumption to be right. Hindsight. It really was fine until it really wasn’t. And by then it was too late.

[ollypopwrites]

fandom sap incoming under the cut

tldr: you guys (emmrich fandom mostly but also a lot of the veilguard fandom as a whole) have been a huge comfort to me during some really tough shit and i adore you. thank you.

soooo when veilguard released i had just left a job that was making me cry like daily, and was super excited to play this game that i had waited 10 years for

and i didn’t get to do fandom stuff for inquisition for reasons i don’t really want to get into but the point is i was super excited to be engaged with the fandom for veilguard

on thanksgiving right after release my dad got really ill and was hospitalized for nearly 2 months and is still dealing with health stuff that is very scary. i’m his primary contact and the only one in the family who can help him so my life has sort of revolved around that.

i haven’t been able to find work, everyday the world news gets more horrific, and a bunch of other little things in my personal life have been happening that have made me feel like i’m drowning most days.

when i say that the veilguard fandom (more specifically the emmrich corner, but everyone else too) has been a huge comfort to me it’s not an exaggeration. the encouragement everyone shares, the compassion and the lack of major petty infighting that taint the space is a breath of fresh air.

i got some really bad news yesterday and when i logged on out of habit while disassociating without realizing it so many of you had either reached out personally just to chat and i had an inbox of kudos and comments on some fics and idk man that really was something to me and most of you didn’t even know i was going through anything.

thanks for giving me this place to get away, for letting me be vulnerable with my writing, and for just being great in general. idc what veilguard lacks or even my own criticisms of it because it will always make me think of you guys and i love it for bringing us together.

[moonstruckme]

babe I’m a yapper by nature so you want the long story here u go!!🗣️☺️🫡

soooo basically I’ve known/been mutual friends with this guy since high school (we graduated in 2021, we’re 22 now) and all throughout high school (so since I’ve known him), he’s been known as a really good and kind person. We were involved in different things and never really ran in the same circles, but we still kinda knew each other because we had a lot of the same friends. We started actually regularly seeing each other at functions and hangouts my junior year of college, and god knows my neurodivergent ass can’t tell but somewhere along the way he started flirting with me. And somewhere along the way, I started flirting back, and now we’re kinda stuck in the weird limbo phase. I’m just so bad at telling if people are flirting with me that I genuinely can’t tell if it’s a one-sided thing or not!!!!🫣

(For context, I’m queer and somewhere on the aro/ace spectrum - it’s rare for me to be romantically attracted to anyone, much less a man, so I’ve had casual things here and there with people but haven’t been in a relationship since I was 18. So this is all a bit weird for me lol but it’s been fun and I forgot that it’s fun to have butterflies/be giddy about someone! So even if it goes absolutely nowhere I’m okay with that, and I’m grateful it’s giving me some joy in my day to day life haha)

Basically we were out just the two of us (we had a third person who went home early) and he had bought my drink earlier (and winked at me while doing so, mind u!!!!) so I bought his pizza at the little late night pizzeria we stopped at, and when we were eating it walking home to our friend’s apartment we were both crashing at, and he said “this pizza is so good I could kiss you right now” but I was pretty drunk still so I just elected to ignore it and said something else. Then back at our friend’s apartment, he has a TINY ASS FUTON that is literally the width of a twin bed and he’s like “here, you guys can share it!” So we literally almost got ‘TWO FRIENDS ONE BED’ TROPED ON A TWIN SIZED FUTON. Buuuut I didn’t know at the time that I liked him, so I told him he could have the futon because I like to spread out and insisted that I take the floor (because I actually do like to spread out lol). And since then, there’s just been moments here and there and glances and touches and we’ve started texting and I came SO close to kissing him at my birthday party in February and AH.

so basically what r ur thots, bae. am i overthinking it? should i give it some time? help🫠🥲

Ooh whoa babe idk all that flirting sounds to me like it wouldn't be negatively received! The only alternative I can possibly think of would be if he was just one of those people who flirts with everyone for fun, but honestly it sounds like he's flirting with youuuuuu so if you like him and want something to happen I'm on team go for it ! Like he's been initiating one bed tropes and almost-kisses and winking at you idk lovely I'm pretty sure my ego would be like "wow he's obsessedddd with me this is embarassing for him" so like while I completely get your hesitation about not wanting to rock the boat you seem like you're in safe territory to me :)

[hazelfoureyes]

To add onto the ace conversation, I wanna add my journey!

TW it gets kinda heavy at the end-

My journey was literally SO messy omg and this is gonna sound so silly but

My mom and I used to watch this show called rupauls drag race when I was little. I used to think the men were pretty and all when they were out of drag but WHEN THEY WERE IN DRAG??? omg I was in love, I thought they were so pretty 😭. NOW YOU CAN SEE WHY THIS IS CONFUSING. Technically, they are men, but they look like women, and you only like them when they look like women. I was scared and confused with this newfound information so I repressed it 💀

During my teen years, ig I was just like everyone else, a lil sex obsessed freak (idk how to put it but YKNO HOW PEOPLE ACTED IN HIGH SCHOOL 😭 ). Watch porn, reading smut, the whole shebang. I eventually found out I like both girls and boys (with a preference for girls). BUT one day I sat down and realized I haven’t had a real crush with a real life person since like elementary school 🧍‍♀️

Everyone was losing their virginity’s and talking about how great sex was and blah blah blah. It’s embarrassing but I thought sex was gonna be AWESOME and I COULD NOT WAIT to just GET RID of mine 💀. Like if I lost my virginity it would put everything in place.

Jump forward to when I’m 19-20 and I get my first “real” boyfriend. I was kinda out? I was telling my friends what I was bisexual. I told my boyfriend when we were in the “talking stage” and he was really supportive, or so I thought, long story short he was just like, THE WORST PERSON EVER. He was sexually/emotionally abusive, 0/10 person.

⚠️TW: S*XUAL ASSAULT, DR*GS, R*PE⚠️

⚠️ I wanna say that I’m only laughing about this because it’s my coping mechanism ig but I just wanna say that there was multiple instances that he used to take advantage of me while I was under the influence and then gaslight me into thinking it was ok the day after.

If they’re is ANYONE reading this that is in a situation like I was in, please for the love of god leave them. NO it’s NOT normal. They don’t love you. The abuse will only get worse the longer you stay. ⚠️

And on top of all that HE OUTED ME 🧍‍♀️ so that was fun. Anyways back to the sex, it was bad. I thought men not knowing where the clit is was a meme but it’s true 😭 mans would rub my left lip for 5 minutes and act if I came. Losing my virginity DID NOT “put everything in place”. Well i guess maybe it did in a sense. I never wanted to do it again.

But on the other hand, I’ve read that sex is a beautiful thing. Deep down, some parts of me yearn to have that special connection with someone. I want to feel what real love is. What it’s really like to make love. And not just have someone tell me they love me while they selfishly use me. Words are just words but I know there has to be more to it.

Anyways that’s where my journey is right now, I’ve been doing some real soul searching these past few months. Tumblr has really helped me in trying to figure this whole thing out. Am I ace? Idk. But it’s what I closely resonate with for the time being.

God labels are confusing as hell 😭 why can’t I just be me

I’m me-sexual 🥳

I was a little worried at first sharing this as it is heavy! But, the fact is, sometimes we are waiting for someone to bring up a heavy topic so we can share/vent our own story. Certain heavy topics just...don't come up often or organically. So I hope if someone needs it they can use this as a reason to start a conversation they've been waiting for a chance to have!

What happened to you was beyond unacceptable treatment and I am so so sorry you had to suffer through that literal abuse. I suffered through quite a bit myself and it really skewed and damaged my relationship to sex for a long time in ways I couldn’t perceive so I absolutely hear you! It sounds like you’re doing the heavy lifting of trying to heal and be a fully formed you and I’m so proud of you! The hardest part is acknowledging that hey, maybe there’s some shit still left to figure out about myself.

As you continue in life you may find your awful experiences had some effect on how you view and enjoy (or not enjoy) sex.

I am a huge advocate for sexual health, in knowing yourself intimately for your own pleasure but also for safety and comfort!

I really hope you’ve taken time to learn about yourself and what things you like and don’t like when it comes to physical pleasure. If that’s something you have an interest in!

Personally I’ve thought I hated things and later realized nooo I just experienced it first with someone terrible at it. 😅 but when I did it I found it kicked ass. (**cough** anal **cough cough*)

There is more to sex, I hear! I’ve never made love and the idea is so unattractive to me, but! Darling, sex does exist thats full of love and connection and meaning that serves so many more purposes than getting off. So I’m adamantly told! If it’s something you want I hope you find someone or someones who can provide it. 🥺

It’s so funny you mention horny teenagers because in middle school and into high school everyone was pairing up. And I thought, “Relationships are what you do when you want sex. And I don’t need sex. I’m still young. So… why would I get a boyfriend? My friends fulfill my needs otherwise.” (Still….so closeted 😂)

Because I was aromantic and the term just like—- didn’t exist in my world so I didn’t know, I didn’t realize people were dating for non-sex reasons 💀 but then I got a boyfriend and had sex in high school and was like “OH SHIT THIS IS THE BEST?? AM I A NYMPHO NOW. MY HAND COULD NEVER?”

The beautiful thing about still being here is that you have the freedom and the time to decide or not decide anything! Research, talk to people and read in forums of people learning to find their place. Question everything— are there parts of people you find sexually attractive? If yes, okay let’s start there! I realized I was pansexual first because of my attraction to androgyny. “I’m not a lesbian—- dick good. But also… pussy good??? Tits good??? That person could have any of those things and.. I don’t care? I still want them carnally?!”

If no sexual attraction to people at all (pretty standard definition Ace in that case!), then okie dokie, totally can still want to enjoy sex! It’s more than about sexual attraction as we are cerebral creatures. That’s still valid! If you did want to be physically intimate are there things you’d be okay with doing and not doing? Or things you’d want to do that maybe you couldn’t with certain people? Is your idea of what sex is being really narrowed down being of the culture you’re in? Just some questions for yourself. So many things to consider if you haven’t already! Not for finding a label but making sure you can express what you want and need when you’re in a situation to receive it. 💝

I didn’t know anything about Asexuality until hazbin and that made me look at my partner and be like “yoooooo I know you’re an older Japanese man but I have a new English word for you to learn.”

Before I knew pansexuality existed I told people who asked my sexuality, “I’ve never been disappointed when someone got naked.” Because I didn’t identify with the “women and men” definition of bisexuality, the gender didn’t matter and the sexual organs were all just bonuses for me. But I didn’t know a word existed for how I felt.

And hey, it got the point across! I lacked a community to feel welcomed in but I was still able to love and be loved how I wanted to be and that’s the most important part of this. As long as you can still articulate what you want and need in this stage of your life then baby cakes you’re doing perfectly fine in your journey! Which it sounds like you already know very well 💖🥹

[tojikai]

I gotta say, it was lovely to see Satoru reflecting on how much of a piece of shit he was to Y/N. I’m currently drinking a cup full of his tears 🤭

It’s incredibly frustrating that it took him seeing her with Toji, a man that’s treating her right and how she deserves for him to realize how badly he messed up. Seeing these little snippets of how he had done the things to Y/N with Naomi as they’re happening to him with Toji… IT DOESNT FEEL GOOD DOES IT SATORU.

We haven’t seen much of Naomi but her actually referring to herself as Mama when it came to Yui? WHEW. It was one thing for Yui to do it on her own but for Naomi to encourage it had me so annoyed 😭 Luckily Satoru nipped that in the bud. I’m trying really hard to not think poorly of her because maybe she’s just bad at understanding coparenting and Satoru has shown Naomi that he puts her above whatever Y/N wants/thinks so she’s used to that. At the same time I feel like it’s basic empathy to get both parents permission before doing huge things like that… IDK I flip flop between both. What I do know is that it’s Satoru’s responsibility as he’s the father and he needs to advocate for the mother of his child even if his girlfriend doesn’t like it. Also that little dig Toji made (accidentally) that made about disrespecting her parents made her leave 🤭 I got a kick out of that.

But now that Satoru has admitted he’s still in love with Y/N I think he needs to break up with her. It’s unfair of him to lead someone on like that when he’s in love with someone else. Even if he’s not going to try and get back with Y/N, it’s just a terrible thing to do to someone.

Toji and Megumi oh my god they’re so CUTE. I want so much happiness for them 😭 Yui and Megumi being thick as thieves UGH i’m so happy that they’re all happy and if they’re endgame I wish them all the love and happiness oh my god.

Throughout all this, is it bad that I kind of still want them (Satoru and Y/N) to end up together? I know they’re toxic, I know Toji is absolutely lovely but if Satoru works on himself and actively works for Y/N’s forgiveness I’d love to see them happy 😭 sometimes it does take seeing what you’ve missed out to put your ass into gear and fix what’s wrong.

I wonder who he called at the end, I think it’s either Toji or Naomi… and I wonder if either person would tell Y/N or Satoru about the call. Or just stay silent and pretend it didn’t happen to keep things as they are. AHHH THE DRAMA! There’s so much I wanna say but I can’t remember it all so I’ll leave it here!

Kai you absolutely ate this chapter and I thank you so so much for the update. I’m super excited to read the rest! Do you have an estimate for how many chapters you think Sundered is going to be?

Thank you SO much for sharing your work and I hope you have an amazing weekend 🫶🏽 much love!

satoru's indifference regarding Yui calling naomi mama led her to think that it's fine. and the fact that it was never addressed/got avoided in those few weeks gave her the impression that yn sees no problem w it :(( and yeppp, satoru still having feelings for yn while with naomi, i could say it's inevitable, considering how rash and quickly he moved to naomi. it's truly sad :(( as for the call AAAAA we'll know ;> anw thankss so much for this, i enjoyed reading it <33 have a nice day !!

[haven-of-dusk]

for the ask game: headcanons for nico di angelo? (if you haven’t read the books, then ricky bowen 🤠)

Sorry this took me so long... I have indeed read the books, so I'll tackle both! Nico Di Angelo:

Sexuality - Gay

A ship - I actually do like Solangelo a fair bit, they're not my faves per se, but I don't have glaring issues with them (especially compared with say, Caleo).

However for the sake of fun, I also love Jasico (I hope I have that name right). Minor aside that I'm about 90% sure Jason is (he's fine, TBM didn't happen I promise) a closeted gay man based on a number of hints dropped in TBM, plus vibes plus he just screams internalized heteronormativity. So I really wish we could've explored more of Nico and Jason's dynamic. Plus they'd be incredibly adorable about one-upping each other's displays of "touch him and die" imo.

A BROTP - Percico, I totally get why shipping them romantically is a thing, but I also adore the dynamic idea that Nico completely got over Percy and Percy's a little salty about it, plus the level of trust they eventually displayed regardless of the definition of their relationship is very special to me. (End of MoA always gets me right in the feels).

A NOTP - I don't have any specific ones...so I guess I'll just say any ship that tries to get him involved romantically with a woman.

A random headcanon - Though he mostly put Mythomagic behind him, he has since become a massive D&D nerd, with multiple fully fleshed out characters and a couple campaign ideas that he badgers people to play with him. (Also the main cast of HoO playing D&D is a podcast I wish was real, Critical Role style...)

General Opinion - I love Nico, top 3 Percy Jackson Universe characters (I think, I haven't gone through and put together an exact ranking ever since I love almost all of them), not super happy when the writing leans too far into the 'edgy' side of him, but his dry wit is always a pleasure, and he's also capable of backing up the edge with badassery.

His original artwork will always give me nightmares though.

Richard 'Ricky' Bowen:

Sexuality - Bisexual

Gender - Cis Male, though he did experiment with they/them pronouns to see if they felt better to him. They didn't, but he's glad he tried.

A ship - Caswen. Obviously. I think my canon rewrite of half the show serves as adequate explanation of my love for them.

A BROTP - Redky. The friendship/brotherhood between Big Red and Ricky was something I really enjoyed in the first two seasons, it felt quite accurate to my high school experiences and I also find their interactions in fanfiction very endearing. Plus it provides more fuel to my fire that Caswen are NOT brotherly since we have a perfect brotherly relationship for Ricky right there and it looks nothing like his relationship to EJ imo.

Plus I'm still extra irritated that in addition to the rampant biphobia in how Big Red's storyline was handled, they also tried to shove him out of the picture and replace him with Jet in S4, with a scene in E3 especially feeling like the dialogue was written for BR and then they had Jet read it for...no discernable reason.

A NOTP - ...Rina /s.

In all seriousness the only answer I can readily come up with is Rily, because wtf was that subplot even supposed to be, but I struggle to think of NOTPs for Ricky since my brain is mostly Caswen or bust. I thought of the EJ alternatives purely because Tim is so militant about Rina, but I really don't know what Ricky would do outside of preferably Caswen or Tim's beloved 'canon' Rina. And while I do think Rini work better as friends, I also wouldn't call them a NOTP since I feel kind of bad for some Rini shippers (not the creepy ones, the normies for lack of a better term).

Idk, I guess I'll just say Rily and move on.

A random headcanon - Ricky loves the Spice Girls. Where did this HC come from you ask? I have no idea. But I feel like it fits.

The urge to write a mini-fic of Ricky and EJ dancing at their wedding to 'Spice up Your Life' is rising. (Totally not influenced by Doctor Who)

General Opinion - I love Ricky. Not quite as much as Elton, but that's a pretty high bar to clear since Elton rose to my top ten of all time list pretty easily. I have mixed feelings about S3 and S4 Ricky since I felt like they made him overly obsessed with Gina and lost a lot of the charm of his earlier plotlines centering on familial trauma and figuring out his own desires in life, but he's still high ranking for HSMTMTS characters, and I obviously love Caswen to death, so it's hard for me to say I don't also adore Ricky as a special little guy.

That spiraled into a bit of a ramble. Point is that I do really like Ricky, I just wish the writing for him later in the show was less...self-parodic...if that makes any sense.

[vacantgodling]

1 and 9 for Amon and Hya pls im so sorry the brainrot IS terminal

you & me in the hospital like 😩🤝

1. What’s their love languages?

so i did answer this already BUT to delve further into love languages: they have to learn how to speak each other’s languages a bit, yknow what i mean?

amon has to learn how to read hya. how to say what he wants to hear but also to not back down from showing his True Self to him because hya hates liars and hates hypocrites more than anything. he only starts opening up to amon when amon starts being painfully truthful with him — at least in terms of his desires and who he is as a person, and honestly this is daunting for amon. he’s never had anyone demand so much of him (and if u remember that one scene i showed u when we first became friends wink wink, that’s what he meant when he was saying “i’ve never let anyone know me like this” tm) and yet give so little in return. but, he slowly begins to realize that hya isn’t giving him a little; he’s giving him everything he has. YES he’s bad tempered, yes he doesn’t communicate like a normal fucking person but hya is also giving amon so much of him that it’s dizzying. amon almost can’t handle how much of himself hya gives him and it makes him wonder if he’s giving enough. so he keeps becoming more and more fixated, more and more enamored, more and more unable to detangle himself from hya because he’s never had anyone SEE him and GIVE to him like hya has it’s nuts.

but then at the same time, for hya, learning to love amon is an exercise of trust and trust is The Most Terrifying Thing in the world to this man. he doesn’t trust ANYONE outside of himself, and life certainly has not given him a reason to. but even still, he finds himself believing in amon, listening to him, caring for him no matter how much he tries to minimize their relationship or amon’s affect on him. he lets amon touch him! kiss him! see him while he sleeps!! like even hya can’t deny that he’s allowed amon into the most vulnerable parts of himself (that shriveled thing he calls a heart) and amon made a home there and it’s Terrifying to him.

essentially their love language is also overcoming their internal fears and i’m obsessed with them for it

9. Baths or showers together? Do they like elaborate ones with bubbles and flower petals?

so hya has a whole thing where he’s got trauma around showers so you will never ever see him in one. so baths are the automatic go to. i haven’t actually thought about the two of them sharing a bath (sacrilege ik) but it’s definitely married couple era if it were to happen. amon would be so annoyingly pressed about it and hya would keep trying to tell him to Focus but amon’s just giddy like a kid and would absolutely want ALL the stops. bubbles, petals, champagne LOL. hya’s all “i knew you were easy to please but this is almost comical” and amon’s like “of course i’m easy to please i’m with you.” but they are both so DISGUSTINGLY fond.

idk man it’s just the way that hya starts being more affectionate for me UGGHHHH i need to write like 800 chapters of them being the cutest sappiest married couple they’re GROSSSS i love them 😭😭😭

[r4cc0on-in-tr4shcan]

Bad day?

Heavy (tf2) x gn!reader

tw: cussing and idk if the dialogue is accurate but other than that just pure fluff (tell me if I missed any tho) WAS NOT PROOFREAD

What a shitty day. You worked for the Administrator as a newspaper deliverer for both RED and BLU and today you got the papers mixed up, earning you a scolding from your boss and a pay cut.

“I barely even get $8 an hour, now I’m getting 4???” You mutter to Ms. Pauling once you leave the Administrator’s office.

“Wow, you really got the short end of the stick, even I get paid more than that. No offense.” Ms. Pauling says, making you feel worse

You decide to just go back to your quarters but of course it had to be a storm and of course you had to trip on your own foot and of course you had to land face first in a puddle of mud.

“Aw shit.” You mutter to yourself as you carefully get back up, just to insure that you don’t eat shit. Again.

You finally make it back to your quarters, but first you needed to go to the showers, which thankfully no one was there. As soon as you lazily turned on the water you were immediately woken up buy freezing cold water. Of course we didn’t hot water. At least you got the mud off you.

As you walked back to your quarters, now in casual clothing, you happen to bump into the huge Russian man, Heavy.

“oh, sorry, Heavy did not see you there.”

“it’s alright Heavy.” You sigh, exhausted by the day, but you’d never be mad at Heavy.

“Is little one ok?” The large man says, concerned for you

“yes, I’m fine Heavy. Just need some sleep.” You say, not wanting to tell him that you haven’t slept in the last few days due to your bed being uncomfortable.

Heavy, however, saw past your lie and noticed the bags under your eyes

“Heavy will help you.” He says, picking you up before you can speak and laying you in his bed, which was so much more comfortable than yours. Heavy gives you a weighted blanket and leaves the room to get you some tea, the whole time you tried to say that he didn’t have to, but he would either ignore you or say “No, Heavy will help, you are tired and need sleep.”

once he comes back with some tea he gets into the bed with you and wraps his arms around you gently, not wanting to hurt you.

This was the most relaxed you have ever been, cuddling against Heavy’s chest, with some warm tea, and Heavy lightly humming some Russian lullabies.

“Thank you, Heavy.” You mutter as you drift off, hearing a little “Goodnight. You’re welcome.” Coming from Heavy

(@another-delta-lover I thought about you while writing this)