#maybe he was in an even later stage and died but they never knew why

[rigormortisangel]

crying bc so many people in my family that died young show similar symptoms to my illness(es) that would have killed me without medical intervention

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: 2582 Days of Hell

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 3326, Cw: none]

———————

Eleven months. Eleven fucking months since Alastor disappeared after that fight with Vox. And not a word or glimpse of him in that entire time. You knew he was alive. There was a tiny fragment of his shadow magick in the decorative finial of one of your hatpins. The enamel black eighth note at the end of a foot of thin steel was warm to your touch. It felt like your hand resting in the crook of his arm whenever you walked together.

If he’d died, that bit of shadow would have vanished and it would just be cold enamel and metal. So you checked it morning and night. You kept your usual rotation of pins; despite wanting the constant reassurance you didn’t want anyone to notice you favoring one accessory. Maybe you were being overly cautious, but you couldn’t help it with Alastor’s absence.

Niffty had vanished in a puff of ash about two weeks after Alastor had. Presumably your husband had summoned her to…wherever he was. There were other demons that had made deals with him in exchange for their souls. If he’d died all those deals would be void. But not one had dissolved, giving you more hope that he was recovering somewhere.

Which you needed. Every time you ventured beyond your territory or Cannibal Town, every television screen in your vicinity started displaying Vox’s face. The insufferable screen saver enjoyed rubbing Alastor’s absence in your face whenever possible. Sometimes it was just his face following you. Others, he staged talk shows or news stories discussing that last fight. He always circled back to the fact that he was active and your husband hadn’t been seen for months. The longer it was, the more gleeful he became.

Extermination Day was about a month ago. You spent the whole time gripping the music note pin, trying to detect any hint of Alastor running into the angels. Fortunately the shadow was unchanged.

Carmilla Carmine had called a meeting of Overlords to discuss the fallout from this latest attack. Meetings like this generally occurred every few years, often a result from something unusual happening. A drastic increase or decrease in kills, the loss of an Overlord, a particular district being targeted, all had warranted a meeting in the past.

This year it seemed there were several upheavals in territory and Overlords in charge. After Carmilla greeted the assembled demons, her focus turned to you. “Y/N. Will your husband be joining us today?”

Decades of performing allowed you to answer steadily, with a smile even. “No, not today.” Usually you attended these together, occasionally Alastor went alone. This was the first time you were there solo. There was an immediate bray of laughter from the other side of the table.

All three of the Vees were here today. Vox had a confident sneer on his screen (he’d updated his head to be a flat screen television a little over a decade ago). Valentino licked his lips before slowly grinning in what you presumed was meant to be a lascivious manner. Velvette, the youngest of everyone in the room, was texting rapidly on her phone. She’d been the one laughing and continued to snigger.

“Not today?” she asked without looking up. “Don’t you mean never, little Miss Frigid?” She finally glared at you over her shoulder, pink braids falling heavily around her face. “Why don’t you just admit what everyone in Hell fucking knows? Vox killed your twiggy arse husband and you’re useless without him.”

You did your best to keep your cool. This would be easier if you at least knew what Alastor was up to. Outright lies could get you in trouble later on, but admitting you didn’t know where he was? That would bring a shit load of trouble now.

“Surprising that ‘everyone in Hell’ is so eager to believe your tabloid drivel.” You waved a dismissive hand at the trio, launching a slight gust at them that frizzed Velvette’s hair. Not enough to undo her hairstyle, but she wouldn’t be able to fix it without taking it all down. The girl was fanatical about looking perfect in public; the loose hairs would drive her crazy.

Carmilla smacked the tabletop. “Y/N. You know my policy on weapons and magick at these meetings,” she said firmly.

You tilted your head slightly in her direction. “Apologies, cher, I just get annoyed by the chittering of little bugs.” You deliberately avoided saying that it wouldn’t happen again. Velvette growled. “If my darling Alastor was dead don’t you think that all the former members of this group he had ownership of would be coming after me?” You laced your talons together and rested your chin on top of them. “But I haven’t had to bother myself with any of them.”

Vox snorted. “Then why isn’t the pussy whipped fucker here?”

“I’ll admit you got some good hits in during that fight, Vox. So he’s taking a well earned rest.” Hopefully your tone was dismissive enough that they’d stop pushing.

Of course they wouldn’t. Especially not Velvette, she seemed to thrive on pushing buttons. She laughed again. “Ha! An Overlord taking what, an eleven month rest? Pathetic. If he can’t even show up to protect his territory I say it’s free game.”

Apparently the girl hadn’t gotten the message about you. Vox and Valentino exchanged a glance over her head as you smiled sharply at her. “Zut alors cher! Impatient, vapid, and misinformed? On top of being poorly dressed? I suppose you have that chip on your shoulder for a reason, ma petite.” You had the satisfaction of seeing her manicured nails digging into the table. “I’m not some pretty proxy little girl. Our territory is staying ours.”

Velvette was rising from her seat when Carmilla slammed the tabletop. “¡Es suficiente! Thank you for the information, Y/N. Velvette, take your seat. We have other business to discuss.” With that the meeting started in earnest.

A handful of minor players had perished. There were still turf wars going on but it looked like at least one new Overlord was emerging from the fray. Carmilla displayed a map of the city; one contested spot was close to your borders. You really didn’t have the motivation to go after it at the moment however. If you didn’t though, the brats might just do so instead. You could see them slowly creeping closer, putting pressure on you and yours. Although with the anger in Velvette’s eyes it might not be too slow.

The meeting stretched on. Before ten minutes had passed the Vees had pulled out their phones and the pings of text messages filled the air constantly as they texted each other. Despite glares from Carmilla, they kept going. It would almost sound musical if it wasn’t so strident.

There was discussion, offers and counteroffers for territory and cash, all with the undertone of tension. You participated enough to not be dismissed as an easy target. Carmine’s rule extended to the streets immediately around her building. Despite that, you could feel Velvette and her compatriots following you closely once the group started leaving.

Fuck this nonsense. Quickly, your wings flicked open and you pushed off into the sky. You didn’t even have to add anything to the downdraft; the Vees were knocked off balance, Velvette’s hair ripped out of its braids and tangled in the gusts. “YOU FUCKING OUTDATED BITCH!” she shrieked from below. Valentino could follow you but you doubted he would. He didn’t relish pain on his own person, just his employees.

You pushed yourself faster than usual on the flight home. The exertion helped distract you. But once you were home, the door locked securely behind you, all the emotions boiled over.

“Alastor you bastard!” you screamed into the cold dark house. “Where the fuck are you!” You sent out an involuntary rush of air; you could hear items pushed off surfaces, paper and cloth ripping. That was enough to stop you from screaming more, but it didn’t get rid of your twisted knot of feelings.

You didn’t have great night vision but you couldn’t make the effort to turn on the lights. You knew where the item you wanted was. You grabbed a bottle from the sideboard and made your way to the bedroom. You skipped your nightly routine, opting to just shed clothes as you walked. Your hatpin and hat you dropped on your vanity counter. Going by feel, you grabbed the music note pin.

In the past months you had arranged cushions and blankets in the mattress into a comfort nest. You couldn’t bear the empty expanse of the bed. Your nest surrounded you on every side with enough illusion of warmth to let you sleep.

You opened the bottle of whiskey. Not bothering with a glass, you chugged gulps until it was half empty. That wasn’t the way to treat good liquor but this wasn’t a good night. You capped the bottle, placed it on your nightstand for later before burrowing under the duvet.

Not even half a bottle of strong alcohol could keep everything at bay. But there were no Overlords here to mock you, no underlings to gossip, no friends to pester you. No Alastor waiting with a handkerchief after you cried all your emotions out. Just the drone of insects in the bayou and a drop of shadow attached to enamel and steel.

Maybe he could hear you through that fragment. You were going to talk either way. “Alastor? Please come home cher. I miss you. I can do this alone, I know it. I have been. But where’s the fun without you? Come home. S’il vous plaît?” At some point you started crying and eventually fell asleep.

You woke up to a hand on your shoulder and a voice calling your name. For a split second you hoped it was Alastor, but the scent of blood and rose perfume told you who it was. “Rosie,” you mumbled, not removing the duvet. She’d had a key to your house for decades of course.

“Darlin’, how long have you been in there?” she asked gently. She didn’t remove the duvet, perhaps knowing you needed to retreat from everything.

“When was the meeting?” you managed to ask. According to your friend, it had been a full day ago. “Since I got home from that.”

She sighed and rubbed your shoulder gently. “Y/N, dearie, you can talk to me if you’d like. It seems like you have a lot going on.”

You wanted to. Oh how you wanted to just let that knot of emotions loose. But even though you were friends, Rosie was still an Overlord, roughly equal in strength. You were vulnerable enough like this. If she knew Alastor was missing, would she be able to resist the temptation to take over? You hoped so but still didn’t want to take the chance.

A few long moments passed silently. Then: “You don’t know where Alastor is. Do you honey?” You froze. “Of course not, you wouldn’t have been so cagey at that meeting if you did.”

You flipped back the duvet enough to look at her. Nothing calculating in her expression, just worry about two of her friends. Her solid black eyes still managed to express concern. She answered your silent question “I’ve known you both for ages, darlin’. We’ve helped each other out plenty of times! If your man was really that hurt, you’d have let me help by now. So, you must not know what’s going on yourself.”

“Rosie, cher, you really are one amazing demon.”

“Oh honey, you flatter me! Let’s get something in you other than whiskey and we’ll talk.” You asked her to grab your housecoat, not feeling up to getting dressed but you also didn’t want to share every bodily secret, no matter how good of friends you were.

Later the two of you were sharing a pot of coffee, biscuits, and eggs. “Do you think anyone else has figured it out?”

“That not even you know where he is? I don’t think so. You’ve been acting as if he’s with you. And none of the other Overlords know you two like I do,” she said while adding sugar cubes to her coffee. “Alright, details, details. If I’m going to help you out, I gotta know what’s going on.”

There wasn’t much more you could tell her. She had seen the footage of Alastor and Vox fighting, then both backing down and his disappearance into his shadow. Vox had aired every angle he had of the incident multiple times. He’d even made an hour-long special with 3D models recreating the fight with dramatic shots and heroic close ups of his face. Part of the special even went frame by frame through Alastor’s shadows wrapping around him, pointing out every possible detail that Vox could spin as proof the Radio Demon couldn’t have survived.

While Rosie wasn’t about to believe Vox’s word, she did gently ask how you were so sure your husband survived. “Like I said, if the former Overlords he owns were free, they’d be coming for me. But also,” you hand the music note hatpin to her, “we made these in… the 1940’s I think it was.”

You let her examine it. The cannibal turned it over in her hands, gleaming steel flashing between her slim fingers. Before long she noticed the magick in the finial. She brushed her fingertips against the eighth note and felt Alastor’s distinctive green edged black power.

“Alastor has matching cufflinks with my power in them. So I know he’s alive. I just don’t know where.” You took the pin back and sighed. “I’m not about to let everyone know about this however. Especially when he hasn’t contacted me.”

“Well, shit. That makes things harder. Not a word from him?”

You shook your head. “He summoned Niffty a while back. I thought he might send her back with a message, some information, anything. But she’s been gone since a couple weeks after Alastor disappeared. I’m so scared of making something up and it backfiring! And if those brats find out I’m basically alone they’ll all come at me together.” You ran a hand through your hair restlessly. “I can take them on individually. Maybe even two to one. But if all three attack together? I’d be fucked.”

Rosie stayed quiet, letting you vent your fear out as she ate. “Well, one thing I can do is back you up. Both with what you say about Alastor and if those three come calling.”

“You’d…you’d do that for me? For Alastor?” Sure you were friends, but putting yourself on the line for another Overlord was not the norm.

“Of course honey! That’s what allies do; it's what friends do. We’ve done enough favors for each other that I’ve stopped counting, just like you right?” You had to nod at that. At some point it was silly to keep track who owed whom. “Not to mention, you and Alastor are much better neighbors than any of the Vees or their cronies. And you know my people, they don’t care for all that modern junk those brats peddle.”

You hadn’t realized quite how unsteady you’d felt these past months. Just knowing there was someone on your side helped immensely. Enough that you could think of your next steps instead of simply trying to endure what came your way. “Merci Rosie.” She squeezed your hand gently before encouraging you to eat. You hadn’t had much of an appetite recently but you needed to. Especially if you were going to rule your territory alone for now.

You and your friend discussed your options as breakfast disappeared. Rosie, reassured you at least felt a bit more stable, headed home after helping you wash the dishes. You then soaked in the bath, letting the warm water soothe the tension in your body. Your back and wings were sore after that dash home yesterday.

The hatpin was sitting on the bathroom counter. “I’m still mad at you, cher,” you said to it. Sound probably couldn’t travel through that fragment but you decided to act like Alastor could hear you. “And I’m not going to forgive you easily. But I’m not letting everything we’ve done together crumble because I’m upset. And I’m not letting those little bitches from the Vees crush us.”

You kept busy the following days. You quickly annexed that contested area for starters. No need to give the Vees a foothold so close to you and your friend.

Alastor’s broadcast station couldn’t do much without him. But there was space in the building. You moved recording equipment there. While you couldn’t write music, you recognized talent and you had an ability to pick what music would not just be popular, but endure past the moment.

Starting with an album of your favorite songs, you set up Songbird Studios. You leaned into the audio quality of vinyl records and the aura of class and exclusivity. Even though your library of music spanned genres, you were very selective about who could sign with the studio.

With a steady flow of income, you increased your power base. More deals and souls, favors and debts waiting for you to cash in, all of which firmed up your Overlord status.

There were days you cried, days you raged, days you wanted to stay in your nest and days you wanted to tear down the Vees tower brick by tacky brick. You confided in Rosie who continued to give you support and pinkie fingers to crunch when you were particularly upset. You were there when she needed someone to talk to and provide entertainment to Cannibal Town, both on your own and scheduling artists that worked for you.

It took a lot of effort, but you did your best to act indifferent at the Vees’ needling. The less reaction they received, the less fun it was. It took years but eventually they lost interest in messing with you.

You counted the days since Alastor vanished. Even once you knew his location, you kept track until you saw him in person again. Carmilla called a few meetings over those 2,500-plus days. You went to some, skipped others.

The latest one, you saw Velvette entering the building from your vantage point above. You were not in the right headspace to deal with the little bitch, knowing where Alastor was staying but not having seen him yet. Choose your battles.

Of course, when you found out later that your husband had attended that meeting, you wanted to kick yourself. And him. And Velvette but you always wanted to kick Velvette. Might as well add in the other two Vees while you were at it.

Once you reunited with Alastor at Charlie Morningstar’s hotel, you immediately moved into his suite. He kept the same motif as your home and it was easy enough to settle in. That night, you refused to let go of his torso as you laid in bed together. Even so, you were more relaxed than any other time in the past seven years.

“Two thousand five hundred and eighty two,” you said, your face buried into his side.

“Hmm? What was that, cher?” he asked, stroking your arm.

“Two thousand five hundred and eighty two. That’s how many days it’s been since I saw you last.” You sat up a bit to look at him in his vibrant red eyes. “I kept track.”

“I would expect nothing less from you my dear.”

“I’m going to take those days out on the person that separated us.”

His smile turned sharper. His sclera flickered black as his pupils turned into radio dials. “Will you allow my assistance, my dear Shrike?”

You reached up to stroke his face. You could feel your feathers sharpening. “Of course. I’ll need help after all. And who am I to deny the Radio Demon his revenge?”

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[navstuffs]

two weeks

Pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

Summary: "give me two weeks, you won't recognize her."

Warnings: songfic, SMUT SO MINORS DNI, sort sub!leon, confident reader

Author's Notes: if you know this song, you already know what's coming ;) this fanfic is also an ode to my queen fka twigs (so you can imagine the pressure i felt writing this lol). leon is also very lucky with me; first sade and now fka twigs? he is a lucky motherfucker man. enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist

"I know it hurts, you know I'd quench that thirst

(I can treat you better than her)

You say you're lonely, I say you'll think about it"

Like most things in your life, it doesn't start the "right" way. Yes, there is a date, but never a proper second or maybe third date, then a kiss. And at a particular stage of life, you didn't think you could seduce or date anyone. Even more so, your partner and friend Leon S. Kennedy. You had lost your touch or never really had one. And he was clearly in love with somebody else.

You had to hear about it occasionally if you decided to join him to drink. It bothered you more than it should, but you could do nothing about it.

And Leon Kennedy had the tendency to only "flirt" as a joke, anyway. 

The smiles, the flirty smiles in your direction. They started here and there, just a tiny detail you didn't think much of, figuring it was just Leon being Leon. Then, the flirting. As if you could call it flirting, the man straight invited you to dinner after you two almost died in the hands of a B.O.W.

Leon's priceless face, when you accept it, makes everything almost all worth it.

"Higher than a motherfucker, dreaming of you as my lover

Flying like a streamer, thinking of new ways to do each other"

Leon is unsure during dinner. You watch his eyes wander around the restaurant, never looking straight at your face. The menu has confusing names with food you have never heard of. Leon had chosen a fancy place he clearly never went, and also somewhere he wasn't comfortable. 

Later, after eating what you think was a snail with a weird tomato, you question why he brought you here. Leon mumbles he never thought you would accept it.

"Why?"

"I guess because you know...my situation."

"I know it hurts, you know I'd put you first

(I can fuck you better than her)"

Ada Wong? Oh, you knew their situation pretty well. You have heard more than once, actually: she and Leon seem to be connected to each other with a certain tension that never seems to die down over the years. This doesn't frighten you; you never ran away from a challenge. You preferred the harder ones anyway.

You wouldn't be stealing Leon from her since he was never his. And even if he was, it didn't matter.

"It doesn't really matter," You conclude, finishing your drink.

"Why not?"

"Because you could be mine at the end. We can't risk that."

The smile Leon gives you is all the answer you need.

"Feel your body closing, I can rip it open

Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing"

You are bad, Leon realizes, really bad. It is the way you make him feel pleasure, the way look at him, fierce and daring, as if he is the only one for you. It makes him feel special, unique, like Ada never could. Not because she didn't want to but.

"Hey, eyes on me, Leon."

Your authoritative voice calls him back, and Leon feels a chill. He had only seen you concentrated like this during missions. Looking deadly and calm, Leon Kennedy is your target now. Leon shouldn't have invited you to his apartment, but he was curious. Curious to see how further you could actually go.

How you would make him yours.

It could be enough, Leon thinks, his hand pushing your head down into his hard cock. He likes to watch you suffocate and how good your lips are around his dick, your mouth wet and slippery, perfect for him.

After falling into bed, exhausted, Leon confesses, his face hidden by his sweaty hair.

"This...could work."

You smirk back. You could work with that.

"Smoke on your skin to get those pretty eyes rolling

My thighs are apart for when you're ready to breathe in"

You don't call Leon the next day. Or the other. He calls you on Monday night after a full day of behaving like nothing happened during the weekend as if you two remained just good co-workers.

He comes by your house, and you imagine he will want to finish everything. It would be typical of Leon to get afraid if someone got too close. Leon would apologize and argue it was all a mistake. His kiss as soon as you open the door silences your internal doubts. Leon Kennedy is there, and he wants you.

You take him to your bedroom, clothes falling on the way, and you ignore the little emotion you have when he looks so vulnerable under your palms. You suck him again because Leon Kennedy asks for it. It seems someone has gotten addicted to your mouth. 

"So good. Fuck."

You let him moan and tremble in your bed. A bed that you often imagined you would, one day, have Leon for yourself, just for you. His moans fill up the room, and you suspect you will never be able to sleep again without thinking about it.

"Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing

High motherfucker, get your mouth open, you know you're mine"

You are at his house now, almost two weeks since this started. Leon has you under him, back against the mattress, legs spread apart. You look a mess, and he loves it. His hands rub your chest, giving your nipple a good squeeze, focusing on moving his hips against you. The way you liked. Oh yeah, Leon Kennedy, in less than two freaking weeks, knows precisely where to hit.

"Shit." He groans, his mouth open with his eyes semi-closed.

He looks sinful. If there was ever some God of sex around or a demon, Leon would be one of his forms used to seduce people. And he is trembling, shaking, panting because of you.

"Leon."

You must remind him to bring himself back and stop teasing you. He looks at you, and his blue eyes darken.

"What do you want? What do you need? You gotta tell me."

Oh, Leon, you think smiling. Still naive about whom exactly was in control there. He forgets sometimes you are as trained as he is. Taking him by surprise, you shift positions, sitting on top of him. Leon's dick goes further inside you, making you both groan.

"You forget Leon, I don't have much patience."

You watch as Leon Kennedy simply collapses in front of your eyes. It had been like this every night you had been together, Leon's expression changing to pure bliss. You think it was nice seeing him like this as you gently grab his face.

"Come on, you know what to do by now."

Leon licks his lips, moaning your name. He raises his hips up with ease, starting to meet your thrusts. You smile, victorious. After you both cum, bodies trembling, you can feel Leon examining your face as his warm hand rubs your cheek gently.

"We could do this if you still want me."

It is adorable how unsure he is still with himself, although his dick was buried deep inside you. As if you hadn't been banging your brains like crazy those last two weeks. But it is the first time he has been truly open.

You lick your lips, whispering.

"I know you aren't mine yet, but..."

"I want to be."

You look into his eyes, looking for any trace of insecurity from Leon. There was none, just the heavy stare of his confession. Leon reminded you of a younger version of himself, one you saw in a picture, his big blue eyes anxious and his face watching you. You knew you were in danger territory now: Leon was letting you in. 

"We could do this" Your voice sounds vulnerable and different from earlier. More emotional "It will be slow. We will take our time. No rush."

"Yes."

Leon Kennedy opens a smile that has you hide your face on his neck. You want more, much more, but for now, this is enough.

[necrotic-nephilim]

in my mind brudick marriage happens almost byaccident: after bruce “dies” dick is left alone and without access to damian or the manor or funds as he was never adopted and is only a former ward, so in dicks grieving mind the clearest way forward is to forge a secret but technically legal marriage, bruce doesn’t find out for years after he comes back, damian knew why he was in custody with richard and assumed it was common knowledge that no one ever brought up, alfred just lets this all play out even knowing that bruce did have a clause in his will to protect dick incase of death (plans upon plans), bruce was upset in all the ways bruce would deny his feelings

this is SUCH a good thought oh my god-

first of all, i am kissing you on the mouth for adding morally fucked up Alfred who just *lets* this play out. he could easily intervene and he *should*, but the idea that he doesn't because for some reason he thinks this is for the best is *such* good food. i love the thought that Alfred knows about unresolved BruDick feelings and feels in Bruce's death, Bruce at least deserves the one thing he never allowed himself to have in life: Dick's hand in marriage. and Dick is so deep in denial and just trying to legally keep hold of Damian and Wayne Enterprises. it's such a stupid last ditch effort and he doesn't even expect it to *work* but it does. Dick is able to keep it under wraps with only a few lawyers and WE higher ups knowing, the public assumes Bruce naturally left everything to Dick bc why wouldn't he? Dick is his eldest ward, after all. Damian knows bc he sees all the papers concerning Dick having his legal guardianship and he just shrugs it off because really, his father's relationship with Dick is none of his business.

and of course, when Bruce comes up there are so many *other* things to handle that Dick just doesn't think to mention it. he's not willingly withholding the information and Bruce assumes Dick *knew* about the contingencies Bruce set up for his death so he doesn't question Dick having all this control. it's not until years later when one of his WE lawyers passingly mentions "oh you might need your husband to sign off on this too" and Bruce is like. i'm sorry my *what*. because he knows the Batfam got up to some chaotic things trying to keep his death a secret, but no one mentioned a *husband*. so Bruce checks the paperwork and is going through every single stage of grief because *did no one think to tell him he's legally married to Dick.* Bruce demands answers and Dick has to awkwardly explain the whole thing to a baffled Bruce who just asks why Dick didn't *check Bruce's files* for this. (maybe Dick didn't think to, maybe Alfred deleted them, who's to say) Bruce wants to be mad at Dick, mostly for not telling Bruce. but all his unspoken feelings make it *very* difficult to figure out what to do. especially when Dick offers to quietly get a divorce since enow the marriage isn't needed and Bruce's *gut* reaction is to blurt out no, no no let's not do that. and he can't explain why he's so against it without admitting how badly he wants to be married to Dick even amidst the worst of his feelings.

it takes them months to actually *talk* about it, and tbh it's probably Damian's assumptions about their relationship that make them face it. bc to Damian the mutual feelings are obvious and the marriage is known so yes of course, Bruce and Dick are in love and together what's so difficult to understand about this, it's no one's business but their own. (i especially love the idea of Damian chastises other characters like Tim for trying to ask questions because doesn't Tim know romance for Bruce is a very private affair and it's *wildly* disrespectful of Tim to think he has the right to know these things.) and so when Damian makes a passing comment about their relationship and Bruce and Dick share a mortified look, they realize they have to talk about it. and instead of ending on clearing the air, they accidentally confess feelings for one another. it's stilted and painful, but they manage to agree maybe they can keep the marriage going. and maybe they don't have to correct Damian.

(also, this is a side thought but: i think a lot about how Tommy Elliot was made to pretend to be Bruce while Bruce was dead and all that fun, and i think it's fun if Tommy knows about the marriage bc he helped Dick sign off on it. and Tommy tries to force Dick into a relationship with him to "maintain the facade" and Dick rejects the advances, maybe Tommy even forces himself on Dick once or twice. it doesn't go too far and they get Tommy back under control, but it's clear Tommy's annoyed when Bruce comes back and he doesn't get to "have his fun" anymore. also fun if Bruce finds out about this and is *furious* bc not only did he not know he's married to Dick, but it was *Tommy* who got to have Dick as a husband before Bruce did and now he's jealous and pissed about the whole thing. just a fun little aside thought bc i wish the fandom had more fun with Tommy's era of pretending to be Bruce.)

[forgottenfourr]

saturday - written ༉‧₊˚.

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an: not proof read, sorry :')

you cannot express the level of panic you felt approaching gyuvin’s dorm. nearly everything in you is telling you to turn back and tell him that something has come up. but next thing you know you are standing face to face with his front door, hand in the air ready to knock. 

you WERE going to knock. you just… needed a few minutes. maybe a walk around the block? yeah, maybe that’ll help. just some fresh air and then you’ll come back and just tell him you got caught up at rehearsal or something.

yeah! just some fresh air will work- and hanbin just opened the door.

“yn?” thank god he was the first to speak.

you clear your throat. “yeah! hanbin right?”

the bright smile on his face lets you know you were right.

“i am assuming you’re here for gyuvin? for your little date thing?”

“it is NOT a date!” you jump at his words

“that’s what i’ve been telling him too,” gyuvin laughs at your urgency to set hanbin straight.

“alright and that’s my cue,” hanbin says, leaving you and gyuvin alone in the doorway.

“so uh, do you want to go to this cafe nearby?” you ask, nerves now taking over your body.

“yeah sure, i’d love to.” his words almost immediately calming you.

——————

the walk to the cafe is… awkward.

you can tell gyuvin has something to say but he won’t say it. and you sure as hell aren’t going to ask what he’s thinking about because what if he isn’t thinking about anything and you just straight up embarrass yourself? absolutely not.

“do you remember when we were trainees and we would sneak out when our manager wasn’t paying attention to go get food?” gyuvin breaks the silence.

your heart feels warm at the memory. things used to be so carefree when you guys were trainees. you didn’t have to deal with all of the pressure and then.

“of course i do. at some point they knew where to find us if we weren’t in our dorm.” his laugh joins yours, the sound filling your heart with joy.

——————

his order is still the same. which is something you probably should’ve expected. he wasn’t one to change much.

it was admirable about him. he stayed strong and passionate about the things he loved. he always had. even with life constantly changing around him. it was something you wished you could do. you always envied him for that. for his goofy and carefree personality. 

“you drink coffee now?” he asks while gesturing to the cup in your hands.

“yeah, the boys are pretty exhausting. it feels like i am a father of 5 sometimes.”

his smile falters at your comment, making your heart drop.

“it seems like a good fit for you.” his voice sounds sincere, “ionic i mean, you guys work well together.”

“thank you gyuv, it means a lot coming from you.” 

he sighs, “i used to be so mad whenever i watched your performances. i wanted to be up on stage with you. together.”

his words break your heart in a way you cannot explain. 

“oh gyub, i’m sorry. if i was able to debut with you i would’ve.”

“would you have though?”

his question shocks you, “of course, i would’ve.”

“but you didn’t,” he sighs, “you didn’t even tell me you were leaving yn. you just left one day and i never heard from you again.”

he stares at his hands in his lap. 

“i’m sorry gyuvin,” you sound defeated, you nearly forgot about why you guys were meeting up in the first place. “i didn’t know how to tell you. i didn’t want you to hate me and the thought of you hating me for leaving you destroyed me. i was scared.”

“but you did leave me. you know that right? you just up and abandoned me with no explanation. when you left i didn’t just lose my roommate, i lost my best friend.”

his words weigh on your heart.

“and when i saw your debut a few months later i was so angry. i was so mad at you. i had thought you died and there you were on stage doing the thing we promised we would achieve together.”

“and you did achieve it gyub! you debuted and i’m so proud of you!” even the smile you plaster on your face couldn’t convince you that what you did was okay.

“that’s not the point yn,” he sighs again.

“i’m so sorry gyuvin, i don’t know what else to say.”

he stays silent as he listens to you, expecting you to say more.

“but i’m here now. i know it’s a couple years too late but i am here. and i won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to. but if you don’t want me back in your life i understand.”

he perks up at your words.

“you’re here now? yeah?”

“i mean yeah, if you want me to be.”

“of course i want you to be, yn. i’ve missed you so much.”

you smile at his words, a familiar feeling fluttering in your chest.

“i missed you too gyub, so much.”

SYNOPSIS ✮ a company gave you the opportunity to finally live your dreams, but as a result, you had to leave the company you were at and your best friend. 2 years later you watch as he makes a name of his own on boys planet. the unrequited love you fought away for years coming back stronger than before.

taglist is open!! ༉‧₊˚.

@phtogravi @istphanie @xiaoquanquans @mins-fins @junhuilvrrr @pinklemonade34 @stillalostpdf @gyuricks @thepeachyhub @jaehyuncocksleeve @ashersdeadinside @carmesi-butterfly @haechansbbg @07yujin @cara-rey @moonslie04 @leehanscent @v0relino @kkurbys @starchasing-cryptid @hasunelol @pleniluneg4ze

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[twilightangel83]

A Ghostly Message

October 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around. (Whumptober)

A 1-1.5 on my whump scale (see the series definition for the scale)

It’s never good when an ‘all hands on deck’ call has to go out. It’s even worse when it included even the younger teams. But at least they all knew why they were being called before arriving. It was hard not to know.

Nightwing grimaced to himself as he watched more and more heroes pour into the largest meeting room of the Watchtower. Most looked serious. Many were confused or concerned. Everyone was mulling around, checking what others knew. He couldn’t blame them, the whole situation was a mess, but he didn’t join them. He knew the meeting would start soon.

“Alright.” Batman’s amplified voice cut across the room, drawing conversations to a close as the various heroes turned to look at where he, Superman, and Wondereoman were standing on the elevated stage alongside Constantine and Zatanna (Deadman had elected not to be involved in the presentation for some reason it seemed).

“You all know why we’re here,” Batman continued once the chatter had died down. “Several hours ago a message began broadcasting across all televisions networks and radio frequencies worldwide outside of those being used to help keep people safe. Such as air traffic control and Emergency Services. And this message has been playing on loop since then. Strangely enough, while the message appears to be the same around the globe, everyone who hears it hears it in their own native language. We do not currently understand how that is possible, but we will attempt to figure that out at a later point. For now, to make sure we’re all on the same page we are going to watch the message together. Please do your best to keep quiet while it plays.”

That said, Batman and the others moved off to the side as the screen against the wall lit up. It was static at first, the same kind of static that Nightwing knew played for about ten seconds between each round of recording. But soon enough the static cleared to show a young man that looked maybe twenty at the modest standing against a black stone background. The first thing many would probably notice was that the young man had white hair that almost seemed to defy gravity and lazarus-green eyes. But that would soon be overshadowed by how bad he looked. His skin was deathly pale, there were bags under his eyes, and a number of still-healing wounds could be seen even around the regal-looking robes he was wearing. Distinct, precise-looking wounds. Wounds that had alarm bells ringing in Nightwing’s mind the first time he’d seen them (the bells weren’t gone, just currently on the backburner). Then the man started talking.

Finish reading Here

[bleue-flora]

do you think c!drunz used the revival book pre or post prison, I used to think pre but now I think they started using it post.

things that line up: in dreamxds vid it’s said that they don’t know how to use it yet, preparing for staged finale they would have had no time, c!Dream seemingly panicking over c!tommy dying in exile, c!dream worrying in general about death, testing it in prison like he claimed. In disc finale he could have lied about knowing how to use the revival book but still had access to it. However c!drunz already had vikk and lazar captured prior to c!dreams imprisonment maybe they were working out the revival book there and later post prison they used it on them. What do you think becsuse it’s never stated anywhere what date they had been testing the revival book on those two and there’s definitely things that go against it happening pre- prison arc.

You do realize this topic got me caught in an essay “war” ;) a couple months ago [here] right? You really trying to get me booted out of dreblr for my opposing thoughts huh?… thanks a lot…. welp I hope you know anon this has been plaguing me for weeks…

See this is a thing of much controversy because there are lots of variables and just as many if not more unknowns so honestly my opinion on the matter has shifted a quite a bit over my time here, but here are my current thoughts.

Originally, my theory was that they tested on Lazar and Vik before staged finale, and then themselves (if they even did - we don’t necessarily have direct evidence of that to be fair… but that’s besides the point) after prison. This made sense to me for the following reasons. a) I don’t feel like Dream would go into staged finale without knowing that if things went super wrong and they did kill him, Punz could bring him back. b) I’m pretty sure Vik and Lazar go missing before Doomsday. c) Wouldn’t you want to make sure your leverage is legit before you get thrown in a box. d) It makes sense with the timeline of his spiral. e) There is no evidence that suggests the book can revive multiple lives back so how would Dream then have all three lives for the staged finale. Plus the genuine sounding fear in his voice both in the staged finale and in prison makes a lot of sense if he had tested it on Lazar and Vik learning how terrible limbo is and hadn’t yet died and experienced it for himself. And then there’s f) given the comment in the finale about them dabbling in mind controlling Ranboo using the revival book, the scenes we get in the Revival Book video that shows Ranboo (implying there is at least some connection between the enderwalking and revive book), and Ranboo’s first known enderwalking (see now you know why I was asking ;D) starts not long before Doomsday we can then reasonably determine that they likely were experimenting at minimum with mind control before prison as Dream used that during prison - and why would you be experimenting with a Revival book to mind control without also testing if it could actually ya know revive -> hence at least testing with Vikk and Lazar….

Anyways I think a) is the main reasoning in my mind as to why I think he at least tested the book before putting himself in a position to be killed. Though I do think perhaps revealing he had the revival book was his last card to play and not his plan A. I mean after making sure he talked on and on about how secure and stuff the prison was in his monologue, it’s likely he assumed they’d put him in there automatically instead of permanently killing him. I mean he’s not an idiot and revealing he had the revive book was likely going to lead to someone trying to take it from him (aka torture). He just wrongfully assumed Sam wouldn’t let that happen. But this is what I think he means when he says “Your means was getting the revival book. Uh, fair enough, you know, you need- you need to value- it’s a valuable thing. I knew the risks when I had it. I knew the risks when I told people… that I had it. But… you know, I—I accepted the consequences and it—it happened.” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, them putting him in Pandora’s Vault was for only one purpose and that was to get the book. They can pretend all they want that it was for another reason but the truth is that they would’ve let Tommy kill him if not for the book and we know already that they have shone in the past that they are more than willing and capable of torture… and I think Dream considered it a possibility, but he didn’t necessary plan on revealing he had it in the first place and depended on Sam to not let torture happen. Anyways, I guess also why have the revive book and not test it? Especially when you think the entire server is trying to kill you. It doesn’t make sense to only test it after…

However, I do think that the experiments they may or may not have done on themselves more likely happened after prison. When Dream cares a lot less about his own pain and suffering having spent months being tortured, plus maybe after he sees DreamXD come to the cell, hears about this Egg, and Foolish having powers… etc it would make sense for them to dive back into experiments this time not to test if it works but what other secrets and answers it holds like limbo and such…

This post [here] actually does a great job going into great detail about the timeline of experimentation. My only counter points to it would be that I think they didn’t experiment on animals as he says it’s “one of the rules” to Sam in Daedalus that it doesn’t work on animals and Sapnap’s book has a list of rules for usage so it would make sense to me for the revival book to have the same (though an angrument could be made that they ignored the rule and tested it anyways…). Also I think Dream helping Techno get totems that Techno conveniently has to use in his execution, highlights that Dream likely knew of Techno’s execution before it happened, which I think would actually be the turning point and perhaps the moment he started thinking about putting himself in the prison. Because it seems to me that he already made up his mind before speaking to Punz (right after the execution) and filling him in on it vaguely and forming a plan of separation [vod]. I’m also not sure if it’s ever confirmed that Dream’s death (any of them) in the first disc war are confirmed to be canon, yes he says you killed me in the finale but also death is referred to throughout even non canonical so I’m not sure that means it counted as a life. (Having said that I do actually love that death being canon as it means Dream was the first to lose a life and makes his actions and his outrage in the finale about it make a whole lot more sense)… so to answer your question: Vik and Lazar right before prison and Themselves after prison.

Or so I thought when I wrote this essay, but then as I combed through the Revival book video I noticed some things that blew my mind show I was in fact wrong, but as this is already long, I’ve put it in a separate post [here].

[horrorwhores-posts]

Arts pet.

Summary: Your family decided to reopen the miles county carnival. And you soon catch the eye of a certain black and white clown.

Word count- 6307 (it’s a doozy)

Warnings: blood, mentions of dead bodies, sexual themes (but no smut), torture, reader/ character was written as afab but you should be able to read it as gender neutral.

Authors notes: this is my first ever fan fiction I’ve written so please be gentle on me. Also not proofread so there might be some errors. And this is about Art the clown soo, yeah. This big ol’ dork has me wrapped around his horn.

Maybe reopening the rundown carnival in Miles county wasn’t a good idea. But no matter how many times anyone told my father not too, he’d just brush it off. Working with your family is hard, even harder when you’re a carny family. My family and I have been on the road ever since my parents got married back in 93’. Soon after they had my older brother, sister, me, and finally my little twin brothers. My father joined the Barnum and Bailey circus when he was a teenager after his grandmother and sole guardian died. Being 15 with no other options, the circus became his new home and they welcomed him with open arms. My mother was the complete opposite, coming from a prestigious, well off, loving family; well if they liked you that is. My mother never really fit into her family, she had always been the black sheep and problem child. And no matter how hard her parents tried, she was never suited for their perfect world. She actually met my father when she was on a date with a “proper'' young man, as her mother put it. After spending roughly an hour listening to the high collared sleaze belittle every performance and worker he came in contact with, they got to my father’s act. Over the years he had climbed the ranks from being a cage cleaner to the circus’s headlining daredevil, and he was really good at it. His stunt that night was riding his motorcycle around a metal cage that was lit ablaze. Even my mother’s date was dumbfounded. After the show was over my mother refused to spend another second with her dick headed date. She snuck away from him and with the help of a hopeless romantic bearded woman she was able to go back to my fathers trailer. He said the second he laid eyes on her he knew he was going to marry her. And that night my mom decided to run away with him. My parents have been inseparable ever since.

Growing up the way we did, my siblings and I have developed multiple talents and were able to pick our own personal acts. My oldest siblings are aerial artists. I was one myself for a while and will even join in on their performances, but my actual love is contortion and fire breathing. The twins are in their teens and still learning about themselves every day. My father had always wanted to own a circus/carnival for himself, and over the past few years his craving to get off the road grew. Through the grape vine he had heard of the Miles county carnival being sold for little to nothing, we later found out that there were multiple murders there, which explained why the value was so low. My mother, sister and I all had our reservations about buying the place, but yet we still found ourselves standing at the entrance of the carnival in all of its glory. It took us months to spruce the place up, fix broken rides, and rebrand the whole park. My father even built a circus tent in the park where my family and other performers could perform if they wanted. We had our handful of protesters over the past few days but we also had a lot of tickets sold for tonight, opening night. I stood in the circus tent, looking at the time on my phone. 8:30; 30 minutes till opening and an hour till the show starts. Deciding to practice some of my aerial work for tonight's show, I gripped the soft silk as the music blasted through my speaker in the corner of the stage. I started going through the routine one last time, not noticing the black and white figure watching intently from the shadows. I ended on my finishing pose and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard loud, sporadic clapping coming from the echoing seating area. I safely dismantled and shielded my eyes from the spotlight to see who was there. A black and white clown stood in the middle of the aisle between the seats still clapping with a large smile on his face. I felt my face heat up from embarrassment and anger.

“The show doesn’t start till 9:30, I’m sorry but you have to leave.” I said from atop the stage as I quickly gathered my items. The clapping ceased immediately and I glanced over my shoulder and saw the clown standing there, arms stiff at his sides, an emotionless face looking back at me. A shiver of dread prickled up my spine and I quickly exited backstage, still feeling his icy gaze on me. I briskly walked to my dressing room and locked the door behind me. I glanced at my phone screen and noticed it was only 8:50. ‘Wait, if we aren’t open yet how did he get into the tent?’ My thoughts were broken when three gentle raps came from my door, a common knock my sister used to let me know she was the one wanting in. I strode to the door and unlocked the handle, my sister stepped in and gently shut the door behind her.

“You okay? You rushed into this room like your ass was on fire.” she asked as I sat at my vanity, my head in my hands. With a deep sigh I rubbed my hands down my face and finally looked at her.

“Yeah, I think I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I weakly responded. She lowered her eyes at me, assessing if she believed me or not. Her eyes softened as I guess she decided it wasn’t worth pressing.

“Maybe you should take a nap before you go out on stage, I’m going on first so I can wake you up when it’s almost your time to go on.” My eyes light up at the thought of getting some sleep.

“You promise? Like really?” I ask with hopeful excitement. She nodded her head, opened the door, waved, and gently closed it behind her. I glanced back at the mirror and saw the dark bags under my eyes, deciding a power nap would be best. I got up, turning off my main light, leaving my vanity lights on, and crawled on to the small gray couch. I had some burgundy throw pillows and a black blanket, I used to get nice and comfortable. In the dim light I could barely make out the posters I had adorning my walls. Mostly old Barnum and Bailey posters my dad snagged before he left, but there were a few photos of me performing. After a few minutes my eyes felt heavy and I quickly fell into a deep sleep.

‘The colorful lights were twinkling against the night that engulfed it. My nose was invaded with the sweet yet salty smell of popcorn and cotton candy. Energy buzzed around me like electricity, lightly shocking my senses. All around me were people playing games, eating food, and laughing with pure joy. In the distance you could hear the screams of ride goers as they raced into the air, some of them twisting and turning along the tracks. The environment was warm and inviting, glowing with delight. I soaked it all in. Embracing the happiness that flooded me, I pranced around the carnival, seeking out my next adventure. As I wandered through the fair I accidentally ran into a figure. He was tall, holding a bunch of red balloons, concealing his face from my view. A black sleeve emerged from the crowd of latex, holding a floating sphere out to me. I gently took it from his gloved hand, immediately hearing a loud, threatening crack from the sky above. Glancing up I noticed a fiery red glow erupt from behind the thick clouds rolling in the darkness of the sky. Suddenly the cheery demeanor of the festival dissipated and the screams of joy turned into ones of pure horror. I whipped around and saw multiple rides on fire, the patrons festering in their seats. Mutilated corpses laid strewn across the park, blood and guts splattered everywhere. My tears were singed on my cheeks from the heat of the flames. The scream that was bubbling in my throat was cut short as long, strong arms wrapped around me.’

I was startled awake, my body jerking up and my brain still fuzzy. I looked around my dimly lit room, looking for what caused my sudden consciousness. There were alarm bells going off in my head, but I couldn’t place what was causing them. Scanning my room for a second time, I immediately froze when I noticed the figure in the dark corner, my breath catching in my throat. Panic coursed through my veins as I fumbled to come up with a single coherent thought. The figure slowly stalked out of its hiding spot and into the dim light. My eyes finally focused on the lanky black and white clown towering over me, the same blank expression on his features as before. With my heart racing, I choked back a scream as he slowly bent down to my eye level, getting uncomfortably close. His dark eyes were threatening as he looked me up and down, assessing me. For what? I’m not fully sure. My chest was heaving from my rapid breath and pounding heartbeat, something he picked up on. He reached forward and placed a gloved hand on my chest, rolling his eyes back and breathing in deeply through his nose. I sat frozen as he smirked, opening his eyes and making intense eye contact.

My mind immediately went blank as the panic dissipated from my body, being replaced with a strong need. As I gazed into his onyx eyes I felt a strange, intimate connection to the man in front of me. His hand climbed from my chest to caress the side of my face, gently gliding his thumb over my lips. I slowly opened my lips, inviting the digit into my mouth, and sucked lightly as it hit my tongue. His taste was bitter and salty, and he smelt of fire and sweat. Normally I would be repulsed but for some reason I was intoxicated. The clown’s mouth was hung open with lust, chest quivering from his deep breaths. If he had pupils, I knew they would be dilated. My eyes closed as I savored the flavor of him, moaning softly. He pulled his hand away, I released his thumb with a soft pop. My eyes shot open as I felt a rough yank on the ponytail atop my head. I fell back and the man followed me, climbing on top of me. His long lanky frame just barely fit on the small couch with me. His hands roaming my sides as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, sucking and biting with a hunger I’ve never experienced before. I moaned as his hand snaked under my shirt, roughly grabbing at my chest.

A sharp pain radiated from my neck and I shrieked. His hand quickly clamped over my mouth as he continued the assault on my neck, warm blood trickling down my shoulder. Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks as I struggled to get out of the grip that was holding me down. Finally the man sat up, blood adorning his mouth and filled his smile. Hand still over my mouth, he ripped my shirt exposing more of my chest. A muffled scream was ripped from me as the clown dug his finger into my fresh neck wound. He then took said digit and proceeded to write something on my flesh. Once he was done, he leant back over me with a sick, mocking sad face. Dragging his finger down his cheek, mimicking a tear. Finally placing a finger over his mouth in a shushing manner, he leant down and kissed my temple with a surprising gentleness. The hand covering my mouth moved to wipe the tears off my face. I whimpered as he placed another tender kiss on my forehead. The mysterious man gave me one more smile and wave of his fingers before he was gone without a trace. I laid in silence, my mind completely blank try to make sense of the last 10 minutes.

A loud banging startled me out of my daze, as whoever knocked started to come in. Fearing it was the man from before, I sprang up and used my entire body weight to slam the door shut. I heard a muffled grunt and exclamation of “what the fuck” as the lock clicked back into place, preventing anyone from coming in.

“Hey, you missed the whole performance!” My older brother yelled at me from the other side of the door. Ice ran through my veins as I scrambled for my phone and noticed it was 10:45 pm.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” I exclaimed while throwing my phone back down on the couch. I caught a glimpse of myself in my vanity mirror and I looked horrible. Somehow the bags under my eyes were worse, my body was flushed, and my hair was completely disheveled. My neck was still dripping crimson, with obvious teeth marks. My shirt was jaggedly ripped with dried blood marking the visible skin. In messy, dripping lettering, ‘Art’s pet’ was written across my chest. A strange shiver ran back up my spine, and I stood there wondering if I’d ever see this man again. Most of me hoped I never would, but a tiny part of me begged to differ.

A few weeks have passed since the strange encounter with the black and white clown, I now know as “Art”. He’s also known as the miles county clown with a long list of victims. I thought for a second he was just a weird fever dream, but the tiny teeth shaped scars on my neck prove otherwise. I’ve constantly been thanking the powers above that it was getting colder out, with me having to wear turtle necks to obscure my markings. My dreams have also been haywire since that night, filled with decimated remains and burning fire. He’s always there too, welcoming me with his demented gifts and acts of passions. Whether it's a still beating heart, a crude mural of me in coagulated blood, or gory jewelry from his victims, he always has something to give me. Greeting me with his signature wide smile, accompanied by some flourish to produce the gift of the day. With his palms out stretched, eyes blinking innocently, he’ll traumatize me yet again with a morbid curiosity.

Luckily I’ve been able to push his invading presence out of my mind during performances and when I’m around my family. My sister has noticed I’ve become a bit more reclused and only asked me about it once. When I snapped at her with an anger she hadn’t seen before, she never pressed the issue after. Tonight I sat in my heavily decorated trailer, covered in old rock n roll posters, tapestries and sentimental trinkets. I had a small dark brown vanity sitting in the front of the small room, my burgundy red twin sized bed laid adjacent to the vanity. My clothes and costumes were strewn about and hung up on a small portable hanging rack, a small bookcase sat at the foot of my bed with a vintage, delicate, lamp sitting on it. Books lined the shelves, ranging from the classics like Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, and Bram Stokers’ Dracula. Tonight I was reading The Complete Tales of Edgar Allen Poe, my head was laid at the foot of my bed, my tiny lamp dimly lit the pages. I lounged lazily in only my black satin robe, trying to turn my mind off for the night, preparing for sleep. A sudden loud knocking came from my front door. With a jump, I bookmarked my spot and slowly sat up. The pounding came again, even louder and more aggressive than last time. I stood up and wrapped the robe tighter around myself, slowly reaching for the curtain covering the small window on my door. The fervent banging picked up once more, and with a flourish of anger, I ripped the door open without looking first. There, in the misty night, stood the clown of my nightmares. The white and black mirage stood stone still, eyes wide, a bouquet of wild flowers outstretched towards me. ‘No , no, no’ raced through my mind as the door started to close. My ragged breath caught in my throat as a large gloved hand slammed on the door as I tried to shut it. He slowly climbed the feeble stairs and stepped into my tiny trailer, hunching to prevent from hitting his head on the ceiling. I stared up at him with pure shock and a hit of fear. He gleamed down at me and he stretched the bouquet back to me. With shaky hands I gently pulled it from his humongous mitt, ogling the beautiful flowers in my hand and gave them a gentle sniff. The scent of fresh florals and the musky scent of the impending rain wafted towards me and I hummed with satisfaction. He bowed down, gently grasped my other hand, and gingerly pressed a kiss to my knuckles. A blush creeped up my face as I shyly looked away, pulling my hand from his grasp. He smirked and stalked towards my vanity, taking a seat on my small chair.

He patted his lap and looked at me expectantly with a big smile. I gingerly placed the bouquet on my bed, wiping my sweaty palms on my robe and approached him sheepishly, finally standing in front of him. He reached out and wrapped his long arms around me, pulling me into his lap, causing me to yelp. He nuzzled into my neck, his warm breath tickling the sensitive scar tissue, sending shivers down my spine. Smirking at me through the mirror, he rubbed my sides, gently squeezing, almost threatening to tickle me. I made direct eye contact with him in the mirror, trying my best to give him the stoniest stare I could. He frowned, looking down, twiddling with the satin belt. I swiftly grabbed his hand before he could untie my robe and I just stared at his reflection as he continued to look down with his ‘sad’ face. Slowly his eyes connected to mine in the glass and we just sat there staring at each other for a long pause. My expression stayed cold, and his frown curled up into a scowl. With a silent huff he rolled his eyes and pushed me off his lap. I stood, stunned, as he walked over to my clothing rack and palmed the sequined outfits. His face broke out with a wide smile as he grabbed a shiny red one piece body suit from the hanger, rushing up to me and pushing it towards me. I jumped at his erratic actions, my arms limply holding the outfit. I looked up at him with confusion, as he started miming taking off his clothes sensually, almost in a cartoonish manner. I gulped and tightly gripped the belt of my robe till my knuckles were white. With another silent, irritated huff, he tapped his clown shoes impatiently on the ground and looked at his wrist as if there was a watch there. Not wanting to anger the man in front of me, I turned around and with trembling fingers I picked at the knot holding my robe together. It finally fell free and it gently slinked off my shoulder. I laid the one piece on my vanity and slipped the robe completely off, avoiding my gaze from the mirror entirely. I was never one to stare at myself naked, let alone in front of the miles county murderer. Somehow I didn’t hear him sneak up behind me, instead being scared by his hands snaking around my waist.

“Why?” I whisper, finally locking eyes with him in the chrome glass. His chin was buried into my neck and his breath fanned against my cheeks. His eyebrows quirk up in a question and his face falls to the side, feigning innocent curiosity. With an annoyed huff I yank my way out of his grasp and turn to face him. My hands cemented on my hips.

“What do you want?” I ask rather gruffly. The look of shock briefly took over his features before being taken over by a look of malice. I felt the spurt of confidence I had immediately disappeared as he reached forward. His hand gripped my throat and in a flash I was thrown onto my bed. He laid atop of me with a look of glee as he watched me struggle for breath. I knew my face was on the verge of turning purple when he finally let go. He leaned over me and stuck his long sharp nose into my neck. I could feel his hot breath against my skin and a shiver ran down my spine. Somehow I just knew he was breathing in the scent of my fear. That thought caused yet another shiver to rack through me, and the clown wasn't oblivious to it. I felt something warm and wet run up the side of my neck. His tongue left a prickly sensation in its wake as he faced me again. A smile adorned his face and his finger came up to boop me on the nose. Clumsily, he crawled off of me and I remembered that I was nude. I grabbed my blanket and covered myself as Art grabbed the one piece setting on the dresser. He brought it to his face and took a big sniff. Yanking it from his nose he made a silent gagging motion and threw the one piece at me. It hit me in my chest and with caution I took a small smell of the fabric. My eyebrows drew together as the scent of laundry detergent invaded my nostrils. The clown had his nose pinched between his fingers, sticking his tongue out in yet another gag and I rolled my eyes.

After dressing in my red leotard, Art led me to the performance tent. I felt uneasy as I stood on the pitch black stage. A loud crack emanated through the room as the lights sprang to life, eerie silence followed in suit. I was temporarily blinded, squinting my eyes until they adjusted. Almost immediately I recognized the 5 people sitting in the front row. My family was duck tapped and gagged, unconscious in their confines, blood coming out of differing cuts and scratches on their faces, proving they put up a fight. My family wasn't the only people in the crowd. Decapitated torsos, gutted stomachs, and carved up bodies surrounded my family. Staring at the mutilated and bloody corpses caused bile to rise in my throat. Panic wracked through me causing tears to cloud my vision, falling to my knees, wretching. Art started clapping in a way to get my attention. I turned my head towards him, a giant blanket covering something behind him. He gestured to my family, an evil smirk adorning his face as I slowly looked back at them. They were gently stirring as they slowly started becoming conscious again. That’s when it dawned on me. 5. The twins, mom, dad, and my older brother. I whipped my head back towards the black and white clown.

“Where is she?” While Looking straight at me, he reached up, grabbing the thick white tarp. Yanking down, the cloth fell from the giant round shape. It revealed my sister strapped to the wheel of death, the spinning circular board we used for our knife throwing acts. She was also coming to lucidity, fear flooding her features once she was able to comprehend a little of what was going on. Art slowly stalked towards my crumpled frame, bending down and dropping daggers in front of me. Immediately looking between my sister and the blades I was able to piece together what he wanted.

“No, fuck no!” I screamed, crawling backwards away from the sharp knives. Art grabbed my upper arm in a Vice grip, almost immediately bruising. Picking me up by said arm he pushed me towards the pile of metal. I violently shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself, staring at the ground. He pinched my chin between his fingers and jerked it towards him. I stared at him with glossy eyes. He frowned at me and gestured his hand towards my sister. My face morphed from fear to complete hard anger.

“No.” I glowered, refusing to break eye contact with him. His face became stony as he pushed my chin from him. Standing to his full height he glared at me and walked off stage. With him gone I rushed to my sister to untie her from the spinning board. As I got to one of her wrists she looked at me with tears streaming down her face. Muffled words escaped her taped lips.

“Hold still, I’ll get you down faster.” As I was distracted with the buckle my sister seemed to notice a familiar figure creeping up behind me. Her silence quickly turned into muffled screaming and thrashing. Finally focusing back on my sister, her wide eyes told me everything I needed to know. Looking over my shoulder I saw the clown raise his arm with something in it. With a quick strike down, I felt searing pain rip through me. I was lurked forward with the sheer force of the whip, screams being torn from me with every strike of the weapon. My sister's tears rained down on me as I clung onto her for support as the lashing continued. My back felt like it was being sliced open by a million little knives. The searing pain caused my consciousness to start to waiver. My sisters muffled screams faded from me as my ears started ringing, only hearing the crack of the cat o’ nine tail. My mind focused on nothing but the constant burn radiating from the wounds, refusing to let my legs buckle from the pain. Finally the lashing came to a halt as I heard a voice ring out.

“Okay! Okay. She’ll do it, just stop!” I looked up at my sister, noticing the tape dangling from the corner of her mouth. Her tears must have loosened the adhesive. “Do it. I trust you. Just get it over with.”

With heavy breath I slowly and painfully turned, looking at the demented man in front of me. Cautiously limping towards the pile of throwing blades, my knees wobbled slightly. I stopped to regain my balance, before bending down to grab the steel daggers. The cold metal bit at the warm skin of my palms, and the weight of them threatened to pull me down. Turning back to face my sister, I saw Art forcing her mouth shut with fresh tape. She struggled a bit, glaring with a hatred I’ve never seen. I stole a glance back at my tied up family, differing levels of horror adorning their faces. My mothers face was covered with tears and my fathers face was hard with a fire licking behind his eyes. Nothing but fear adorned the twins faces, and my older brother was looking around. Forming a way to get out, I assumed. Clapping for attention, I turned back to the black and white demon, watching him grab onto the wheel, to heave it down with his full body weight. My sister started spinning and I took a deep breath. Separating a knife from the bundle, I aimed it, cocking my arm back and tossing the blade directly at the board. It landed right between my sister's legs. Grabbing another blade, I wretched my arm back and threw it again. Thinking was never a good idea when it came to knife throwing. Just aim, breathe, and throw. The more you stall, the more you hit the target. Before I knew it I only had one dagger left. All the other throws were perfect misses and I readied myself for a final good throw. A loud piercing honk rang into my left ear. My throw was ruined. And I watched in horror as the sharp steel plunged itself into the soft flesh of my sister's thigh. Her muffled scream was drowned out by the intense ringing in my ears as I turned and looked at the clown. He was pointing at my sister and silently belly laughing, holding his stomach.

“I hate you! You stupid, annoying motherfucker!” I ran up to Art, hitting him on his sturdy chest. He barely reacted as he looked down his nose at me, watching me pound onto him with my full weight. He snatched my wrists and held my arms out, staring at my red face as I continued screaming profanities at him. Smiling sinisterly, he let go of my wrists and stalked towards the, now still, round board my sister was still attached to. I had no clue what his plan was but I tightly grabbed his arm, refusing to move. Realizing he was anchored, he slowly faced me again. “What will make you stop?” I basically whimpered. His grin widened even more than I thought it could. He stood back up to his full height, and I couldn't help but gawk at his towering stature. Gazing up, he tapped his chin in a ‘thinking’ manner until he snapped his fingers in a eureka moment. Cocking his head to the side, he grinned at me, leaning his face down. Becoming eye level with me he gently tapped his cheek, as an indication to give him a kiss.

A wave of nausea hit me, but I also got a fuzzy, warm feeling course through me at the same time. I hated it. I hated myself, for having some sort of affection for the man who’s done nothing but torture me and my family. I snapped back to reality when a loud clap erupted in front of my face. I blinked and refocused on the man in front of me. His face was almost child-like as he watched me with pure, I’m not sure, adoration? I took a deep, quivering breath, and stepped forward. Wrapping my arms around his neck, balancing on my tip toes, and I gave him what he wanted. Granted it wasn’t on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to mind. His lips still had that rich smokey flavor as last time. His hands immediately found my hips and pulled me in closer, almost desperate to get me closer. His tongue licked at my lips and I opened eagerly. I just let him have control, not feeling strong enough to put up a fight. I pulled back with a gasp as a sharp pain came from my lip. A small trickle of blood ran down Art's chin, causing me to reach up and gingerly touch my bottom lip. Pulling my hand back, there was warm blood covering my finger tips, and my lower lip throbbed.

“Let them go.” I croaked out. Art still had his grip on my waist, and squeezed almost threateningly. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes squinted together in distrust. “If you want me, let them go. I’ll be all yours, no questions asked. As long as they’re safe.” I gently cupped the side of his face and placed our foreheads together. Our breathing slowed and we shared a moment of peace. Running my thumb over his jagged cheek bone, I felt my eyes water.

“Please.” I whimpered. Tears ran down my face as I finally looked up at my tormentor. His eyes almost softened when he saw me. His hand moved from my waist to my cheek, brushing the tears off as they fell. With a gentle kiss to my forehead, he stretched up to his full height and stepped back. He turned to the side and lifted his arm towards my sister. I slowly looked between the appendage and her. Making eye contact with the man again, I nodded and sped walked up to my sister. She was barely lucid. I lightly slapped her face and her eyes finally focused on me. Pulling a knife out of the board, I cut away at the leather straps holding her to the panel. When she finally tried to put weight on her leg she screamed. She grabbed the knife sticking out of her thigh and I supported her the best I could. I looked over my shoulder to see Art was gone. Not waiting a single moment I hobbled her across the stage, refusing to listen to her pleas to stop. We finally got to our trapped family. They sat there with nothing but pure terror and tears on their faces. With the dagger I cut my father loose first. Immediately he wrapped me in a bear hug, almost squeezing me a bit too hard. He held me for what felt like years but was no longer than a few seconds. My sister struggled to release my mother from her confines when we heard a loud boom. The heat came soon after as the back of the stage was lit ablaze. The fire grew to the top of the tent within seconds.

“Jesus Christ!” My father hollered as he, and the rest of us, scrambled to free our brothers. The smoke was thick and dark, making breathing almost impossible. Coughing, we were able to untie my brothers. We all were kneeling down toward the ground, trying to avoid the thick musk above us. “We’re not gonna be able to make it!” My mother screamed, as the loud crackle of the flames almost drowned her out. I could tell my sister was worse for wear, and I had no idea how to get her out. While my head was swimming with panicked thoughts, my eldest brother noticed the dagger I still had clutched in my hand. He grabbed the blade out of my hand, dashing towards the closest tent wall and carved into it.

“Come on!” He screamed as everyone rushed to the new opening. I grabbed my sister and supported/ dragged her out of the tent. Her consciousness was faltering when I laid her on her back. We hacked and gagged as we finally got some of our breath back. The tent was completely ablaze. I heard sirens wailing in the distance as my head started to spin. I started dry heaving while slowly crawling away from my family, not wanting them to see me like this. My vision blurred from the tears and the spinning when I suddenly saw I black shape in front of me.

“Get away from her!” A distorted familiar voice rang out as I looked up and saw a blur of white and black. For a split sec I was able to focus and I saw Art standing there. Blank faced and fists balled to his sides, he raised his foot. In a split second everything went black.

Waking up was almost like a nightmare to me. My head pounded and I was freezing. The room was still spinning and My eyes couldn’t focus on anything. I tried to move, but I was cramped in something small. With a groan I reached out and touched something cold and metal. But it wasn’t solid, it felt like it was made out of metal wiring. I adjusted myself and once again heard the ringing in my ears start up. The floor was solid underneath me, but I could see outside of my confines. My fingers once again grasped the walls around me and it all clicked. I was in a steel cage. Visions of what happened before I was knocked out bombarded my brain. Adrenaline mixed with panic and caused everything to come into sharp focus. There wasn’t much to see, it was dark and dingy, a single light swung above my cage. A smashed tv sat on the floor across from a table with a little stool. Blood and various sharp objects littered the table. I immediately scattered backwards until my back hit the chain wall. The reality of what I agreed to dug its way to the forefront of my brain. I agreed to be with this man. For whatever he shall need me for. My stomach flipped as all the possible scenarios ran through my mind. My leotard -covered body shivered in the corner of the cage. My erratic breathing caused me to notice that there was something around my neck. My throat felt constricted and panic wracked through me as I clawed at it until I got a decent grip, ripping it from my throat. In my hand sat a collar. A. Fucking. Collar. My ears weren’t ringing, it was the bell on the collar the entire time. I was drowning in my thoughts when The entire cage rattled, as someone else shook it. I snapped my head up and was greeted with Art's smiling face. He lifted up the top of the cage, revealing the door. His face slowly morphed into frown as he looked at my face, then my neck, and finally to the collar in my hand. He held out a finger initiating to give him a minute and closed the cage. Prancing over to the table I saw him pull a thin sparkling string up and hold it close to himself. After finagling with it for a moment, he walked back over, and completely flipped the top of the cage open. He held out his hand, dangling there was a necklace with a heart dog tag. It read “Arts pet”.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for wanting to punish those who got away with killing my parents?

When I (23M) was a boy, I lived next to some laboratories. However, after an experiment went horrifically wrong, my home was blown up and I lost my parents. I would later find out that, of the 3 researchers involved, the assistant died, one of them hid away to let himself obsess over what went wrong while the third managed to walk away with more money and political power than he knew what to do with.

I was adopted by a lovely lady whom I miss dearly since her death a few years ago. However, I am grateful to have access to her full fortune since it allows me to focus on achieving my goal. By which I mean, revenge.

I've worked hard over the past decade to put the pieces all in place. The underground replica city, giant machine of destruction and kidnapping of scientists might seem excessive to an outsider but trust me, they're all necessary. I've even tricked the researcher who was obsessed with his project into thinking he's the one calling the shots in our partnership.

The man who got money and power after murdering several people is our current prime minister. But just wait until he sees what I'm about to do, just wait until it's all rubble and flames in his name. He'll never wish he chose corruption then!

And yet... here I am, masquerading as some random kid's adult self to fool a university professor into believing my fake city is the future version of the one he knows. I don't know why I invited him. Maybe so he could talk me down? I'm not sure anymore. I just know that he saved my life once by being the voice of reason when everything else was chaos, there's a chance he can do it again. I can sense him closing in on me and the truth. It's only a matter of time. I may need to activate the final stage of my plan sooner rather than later in that case.

So am I the asshole for wanting a corrupt man to finally see some consequences for what he did 10 years ago? I believe all the people whose lives he ended or ruined deserve to see justice.

[tartanblogger]

Why Beethoven's 'The Daddy'

Ludwig Van Beethoven absolutely 'ROCKS' and I'll tell you why. Unlike Mozart, who had a loving, supportive, maybe sometimes overbearing but never cruel father, young Ludo's father was a drunken sot who used to drag him out of bed at all hours to play piano for him and his drunken cronies. When teaching Ludwig piano, he would smack the boy around the ears for making a mistake or not playing something as perfect as the father wanted.

A 'USELESS' DRUNK! Unlike his extremely gifted son, the father was a third rate singer whose own father reached high circles in music and had an excellent reputation in the field. Perhaps there was resentment passed on to his son. Although cruel, I also believe the father sometimes had little moments of genuine adoration for his son's talent and deep inside, knew Ludwig was destined for greater things!

THE PRISONER, LOCKED AWAY!

Many times, the young Beethoven was shoved into a darkened cellar and locked in by his father. Think of the fear and anguish that must have gone through the young lad's mind. No doubt these affected how he shaped up in later life!

A SENSE OF DUTY!

Ludwig had two brothers and when one of them (Kaspar) died, Ludwig took care of his nephew Karl until Karl was old enough to break from his 'as-he- saw it' overbearing' uncle. The fact remains 'though, that Ludwig showed a paternal love, care and devotion to his brother's child, something that he himself lacked in his early years.

BEETHOVEN and MOZART

When Beethoven had moved to Vienna, he sought out the famous Mozart and had a few lessons with him before having to return to his mother's funeral in Germany. Mozart, who was impressed by Ludwig (no mean feat, to impress Mozart) is reported to have stated that Beethoven would be an important figure in the world stage and one to watch out for in the future! Again...coming from the musical genius Mozart, that is indeed 'high' praise!

A MAN OF PRINCIPLES!

As a person, Beethoven was also a man of high principles. He once wrote the EROICA (heroic) symphony and dedicated it to Napoleon Bonaparte who had liberated parts of Europe and who was in Ludwig's eyes, a hero!

However, later, when Beethoven had heard that his hero had now declared himself an 'emperor' (Beethoven had little regard for titled folk) he took the manuscript and violently scratched out Napoleon's name, leaving the manuscript damaged!

OUT OF THE SILENCE - CAME GREATNESS!

If you can imagine a sculptor or carpenter losing their hands, you would conclude that to be a tragedy. Think on then, of how probably THE greatest composer in the world, lost his hearing at just twenty eight years of age!!!

Can you even grasp what torture that would be...never to hear the world around you or your precious gift of music, ever again! With Beethoven's gradual hearing loss, he wasted precious time and money on 'quack' cures and doctors who had no remedy or cure.

Yet although when eventually he was stone deaf, Beethoven produce some of the finest works of music ever known...ALL from the silence of his malady! Yet the mind, the great mind was still working.

Considering Beethoven's superb piano and composition skills, he was definitely unique..a one-off! When speaking to a wealthy and powerful prince one day, Beethoven was reported to have said (I paraphrase here) "princes come and go, but there is one ONE BEETHOVEN!" And he was absolutely right. Beethoven was not just an ordinary man, nor composer. He was in every sense of the word, an EXTRAORDINARY genius! A giant of music.

copyright JG Conn aka Tartan Composer 11/04/2024.

[thepurplewombat]

Do you ever get into a conversation with someone and then they say something and you're like, have we even read the same book? Are you sure?

Anyway I was playing with the little jingly balls of bad JGY opinions people are kind enough to provide for me on Reddit, and it's all about rumors in MZDS, and someone says this:

and I'm like, okay, am I going to respond to that? but then the OP comes in from stage left with the steel chair of

I mean, there's more to that comment but I'm only replying to this one, and I'm like 👀 and respond with

which I think was a very sensible and reasonable response. I even gave page numbers, although it would have been better and more pedantic if I had also provided which version and format it is. I would have sounded so fancy. sighs for lost opportunities.

And then the OP comes back with this! I'm going to split it up into bits because I want to respond to every part of it individually.

That is literally the opposite of what you said in the comment I replied to but go off I guess.

Okay but his precise wording isn't relevant? Because like, the question isn't what specific word he used, but whether the rumor that he harassed JGY is made up or not. And fair enough, the page I cited does not prove definitively that he harassed JGY.

However, it does pretty definitely prove that he harassed someone - a disciple of the sect he was in, who was in a position to get him thrown out. (and honestly? The list of people whom MXY, an acknowledged son of the previous Sect Leader, would automatically be thrown out for harassing is...it's one person. Well, maybe two. Like, if he was creeping on Jin Ling he would have been executed, not exiled - and even if he was exiled, if Jiang Cheng ever heard of it he'd have wished the Jins had just quietly chopped his head off. But realistically the people MXY could have harassed and been kicked out because of, given the way the jianghu works, is basically Jin Guangyao and nobody else. Anyone else, it would have been hushed up or they would have been banished. The list of potential targets is one person long)

She's not 'keeping us in the dark for suspense' she is playing mind games. Everything in an mxtx book is a mind game. the reason her books are so good is because they don't just pull you into the world, they make you think like the people in that world.

Also, it was at this point that I decided I wasn't going to respond to this person, and was instead going to rant about it on Tumblr. Because this poster has called the Qin Su Situation 'disgusting' twice in two comments, and like, I'm not sure they realise that they are referring to an act of sexual assault perpetrated against both Qin Su and Jin Guangyao as 'his tragic and disgusting secret'. Because something that I haven't seen addressed a lot in fandom is the fact that the consent situation wrt the sex Qin Su and JGY had before he knew is extremely wonky.

It's generally acknowledged that if you later find out information that, had you been in possession of it, you would have not consented to sex, is fucked up, and deliberately withholding that kind of information is a form of sexual assault (ie, not disclosing that you have an STD before having unprotected sex and things of that nature) that can even be legally prosecuted in some places.

But who is the perpetrator here? It's not Qin Su, who didn't know. It's not Jin Guangyao, who never had sex with her again after he found out.

I don't even know why I immediately noped out when I read that, but it rubbed me completely the wrong way.

(also can we take a moment to appreciate OP saying that Wei 'you like Mianmian' Wuxian, who died convinced that Lan Wangji hated him, is incredibly astute and tends to make correct guesses about people and situations)

BUT!

THE OP IS NOT YET FINISHED!

HERE COMES THE KICKER

I mean, has this person read the same book I read? There are no innocent victims in an mxtx novel. Every single person in the entire cast of all of her novels (with the exception of the Juniors in mdzs) is fucked up in some way, and has fucked up in a way that contributed to whatever Situation unfolded in their book. Even Xie LIan! EVEN FUCKING XIE LIAN has fucked up.

And you're telling me Mo 'let me summon Satan Himself to murder my family' Xuanyu is an innocent victim? The man unleashed the Yling Patriarch on the world. Frankly he's lucky about 80% of what they said about WWX was utter bullshit because otherwise he'd have been responsible for wiping out the world.

And here's a point - while the stories about WWX are not all true, they're not all lies either. He didn't kill the guards at the prison camp for no reason, but he did kill them. He didn't kill Jin Zixuan deliberately, but he did kill him. He wasn't building a sect and plotting to take over the world, but he was experimenting with necromancy and raising fierce corpses - including Wen Ning! A sentient fierce corpse!

The point of mdzs is not that all rumors are lies. The point is that rumor and innuendo twist the truth. Most of the rumors in mzds have at least some basis in truth, but are distorted to serve the needs of the moment.

That's the point.

So the rumor might have exaggerated what actually happened. But we know from MXY's own writings - the only time we hear directly from him, even if it is filtered through WWX's reading of his papers - that he harassed someone, and was thrown out of the clan for it.

Anyway, that last paragraph was the one that made me wonder if we were talking about the same book.

[camo1000le]

Give us your Oweddy thoughts!!! I love your art of them so much I want to hear your thoughts <3

Awww tysm 🥺💞 I love drawing them, to the point I'm geniunely worried

I have a lot of specific hcs about them (mostly because I'm slowly stealing them to turn them into OCs for... something) so here's a little rundown in their story! (Let's hope it's actually little!!)

AKA long post weird AU you released a beast (me infodumping)

When they're tiny:

They met when they're 12 at their new school: Owynn moved because of bullying (the kids used to make fun of him bc he was tall/redhead/has heterocromia and even cut his hair, that's why he has it very short now) and Freddy moved to a whole new country (from Spain to wherever fhs happens). Freddy is Mexican while Owynn's dad is swedish (he was not born there)

They find eachother to be very weird but share many tastes and life events, like the bullying and missing a parent (Owynn is more direct and likes to insult his mom while Freddy doesn't talk abt it- Ow didn't even knew he had an adoptive dad).

They form a music duo for the spring event, since they were such good friends maybe they could work together well! Also Freddy acts kinda weird and sometimes forgets they have rehearsals after-hours but it doesn't matter bc he says sorry and he's cute!!

There's a whole drama with Owynn's parents in the middle of that but i wont bore you with that (unless you want me to)

Anyways the event happens Owynn can't come in time so Freddy goes alone and he wins but ow feels betrayed and blah blah blah they're enemies now and he hates Freddy (a 12 years old kid with a lot of mental troubles for that age)

Bc yes Fred is there but Owynn ofc didn't know, even if he actually talked very often with him too. In fact is kinda his fault Fred makes fun of Freddy so much (He's mad he lost his only best friend 🥺)

(Guess who remembers the rehearsals and the songs and owen cursing his mom)

Middle part where we watch Owynn go insane:

Literally. They kinda hate everyone but their dad now.

Moved school again, classmate with Abby and company actually! (Tho y'know abby she's... insane) so they don't talk. Also the Nightmares used to live closer to that school so they bullied him there until Owynn broke all of Onnie's teeth.

They meet Ttrap too: he's older in my AU (while ow is 15 he would be 17), he tries to get Owynn to therapy bc it's really fucking weird/sad he only talks abt Freddy or abt how much they dislike themself so. Yeah. He succeds and Owynn gets... to move schools again, yay!!

Ow starts developing schizoprenia, doesn't get the diagnosis until very later. (Prodomal stage/negative symptoms rn)

Also kinda starts discovering himself (being gay/nonbinary, doesn't really ditch the he/him pronouns until much later). Also dyes their hair purple

I don't have recent drawings of cringy sad 15y/o owen

What would equal the 1st season of the series:

Freddy moves to the HS and says his funny discourse (qué? Que quién soy yo? 🤓) Who would've though a certain kid that hates him was there to see it and died right there.

After realizing they share classroom Owynn pressures Ttrap into changing them to another one, hides his freckles/dyes his hair a darker color/uses normal glasses to not be recognized. Explaining his absence from the 1st season /j

So we have time to look at Freddy. He's struggling, Fred is being annoying; they explode at the camp where Freddy bumps into Owen who tells him to fuck off and never talk to them bc they hate him and Freddy says: "who are you?" to them. :D

Fred facepalms and takes control of the body.

Owynn develops his plan to destroy Freddy's band or whatever. Also dyes his hair again.

2nd season!!

And Owynn is in full delusional mode. The whole 'boss' thing is Eak and Ttrap going along with them so they can decompress lol

He does his little introduction and dumb plans to sabotage that obviously don't work at the end but they're actually very good bc he... actually does know what he's doing (making usagi & loon have trouble/separate golden from the group/the whole Toys thing)

But eventually it doesn't matter/the spring event thing happens ; Owynn gets hit by a car and breaks their arm

The secret 3rd season // last school year

Owynn goes back to lay low, gets his schizophrenia diagnosis so therapy+meds!! Good for them!

Freddy gets the therapy+meds combo too! Fred is chilling now :]

So Freddy now attempts to talk to Owynn but they run away from him to not cause him trouble anymore. And that goes for a while until they talk it out: They'll get time to talk alone, but Freddy also wants them to meet the rest of his band so they can get friends, Owynn accepts; but isn't a fan lf the idea.

Eventually they fall in love again (fall? Ow never stopped liking him honestly) and they date. But it takes a very long time to get there but they're so very lovely <3

ALSO yes Fred and Owynn also fix their relationship, they're besties again <3

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 okay listen-

"Ah I see your here to watch Aponi sing for the first time since leaving Valentino!" Alastor exclaimed as Angel Dust walked through the door of the small club.

"Yeah. I wouldn't miss it. She's been talkin bout it all week. I'm suprsed you let'er choose her own song ta sing," Angel stated as he sat at one of the tables and took his phone out.

"Why's that?" Alastor asked.

"She died in the early 2010's. I've met a shitload'a people from then and their music taste is usually shit. But maybe that's just me," Angel stated.

"Oh I'm sure it'll be fine!" Alasto replied.

Angel raised an eyebrow before playing a song from the 2000s.

"Its called 'who let the dogs out'. Really damn popular and really fuckin' stupid," he muttered before turning the song off and putting his phone away.

"Generations change, my feminine fellow! I'm sure Aponi wont sing that song specifically!" Alastor replied before starting the music for aponi as people walked in.

"Hey Angie!" Cherri stated as she sat next to angel dust. "She up there yet?"

"Nah. But the pimp just started the music so, should be any time now," Angel replied.

The restaurant wasn't very full, but the usual came in and had shown interest in the performance happening soon.

"It is my pleasure to introduce, Aponi wings! A new performer here!" Alastor introduced.

A backup singer started the song.

Five, six, seven, eight

More music began, and everyone kept speaking with one another, waiting for Aponi.

Alastor tilted his head at the music. It sounded like something he would've known.

Jazz.

Alastor would have to ask her about it later.

As the instrumental came to an end, Aponi walked on stage.

Come on babe, why don't we paint the town? And all that jazz

Aponi sang as the lights came on.

I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down And all that jazz

Alastor tilted his head at the lyrics.

Start the car, I know a whoopee spot Where the gin is cold but the piano's hot It's just a noisy hall, where there's a nightly brawl And all that jazz

Alastor cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

Her voice seemed darker in this song.

He wouldn't be suprised if she was an actress as well among other things. She knew how to act with the music.

Skidoo And all that jazz Hotcha Whoopee And all that jazz

The backup singers spoke along with Aponi.

Slick your hair and wear your buckle shoes And all that jazz I hear that Father Dip is gonna blow the blues And all that jazz Hold on hon, we're gonna bunny-hug I bought some aspirin down at United Drug In case you shake apart and want a brand new start To do that jazz

The song got a bit more upbeat and alastor saw some people tapping their feet to the rhythm.

Find a flask, we're playin' fast and loose And all that jazz Right up here is where I store the juice And all that jazz Come on babe, we're gonna brush the sky I betcha Lucky Lindy never flew so high 'Cause in the stratosphere, how could he lend an ear To all that jazz?

As the song picked dup even more, and the music started up again people began dancing with one another.

Oh, you're gonna see your sheba shimmy-shake And all that jazz Oh, she's gonna shimmy 'til her garters break And all that jazz Show her where to park her girdle Oh, her mother's blood'll curdle If she'd hear her baby's queer For all that jazz

Aponi belted the notes. Impressive.

Alastor would have to ask her more about what her voice can do.

All that jazz

The music continued happily.

Come on babe, why don't we paint the town? (Oh, you're gonna see your Sheba shimmy shake) And all that jazz (and all that jazz) I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down

As the music picked up even more, Aponi began dancing with another demon while singing..

Alastor knew it would happen, qponi had showed him the dancing, just not the music, but he still felt a bit... strange seeing his performer dancing with someone else.

(Oh, she's gonna shimmy 'til her garters break) And all that jazz (and all that jazz) Start the car, I know a whoopee spot (Show her where to park her girdle) Where the gin is cold but the piano's hot (Oh, her mother's blood will curdle) It's just a noisy hall, where there's a nightly brawl (If she'd hear her baby's queer) And all that jazz

She belted again as she was spun around.

She walked back to the microphone.

No, I'm no one's wife But oh, I love my life And all that jazz That jazz

She belted the last note and everyone in the restaurant began clapping for her as the song ended.

Aponi walked off the stage and up to angel and cherri.

"You did a song from a musical. Again?" Cherri asked, feigning annoyance.

"Oh you love it. You're the one who dared me to do a musical. Next time we should put money on it," Aponi teased.

"Well my darling! That was amazing. Say, where is that song from?" Alastor asked.

"Hm? Oh. It's from a musical called "Chicago" amazing. Even though cherri doesn't think so," aponi teased.

"What other musicals are there, my dear?" Alastor asked as he ushered Aponi away from her friends.

"He's obsessed with'er ain't he?" Angel asked.

"Yep. Hope he's ready for her backstory and all the shit it comes with. He is a man after all," cherri replied.

"Hey! So am i!" Angel argued.

"You know what I mean, Angie. If he hurts her I say we go to Satan himself to ask him to banish him," Cherri suggested.

"Agreed," Angel replied before the two walked out of the restaurant.

[igetdepressedandilearnthings]

Today I dreamt my dad died.

It's been over two years since I saw him convulsing next to me in the parked car in our driveway. The car I literally leapt in front of to keep him from driving off because he was already speaking incoherently but he was still got into while we were getting ready to go to the hospital.

It's been almost two years since his diagnosis came and told us it was lung cancer that had spread to his brain. Stage 4. Very little chance he'd even make it this far.

In all this time, I hadn't yet had a dream like that. It was curious to me, because I rarely ever remember my dreams but one the few recurring ones I remember having is about him dying. I used to have that dream when I was finishing high school/beginning college. I always woke up with tears in my eyes.

Today I too dreamt my dad died, but it was a new dream. He died because of his cancer. It was now. In the other dream I never knew why or what happened, it was just someone else telling me it had happened and then I woke up after beginning to cry and I always had tears in my eyes.

Today, I dreamt my dad died, but I woke up and there were no tears in my eyes. I don't remember it fully, it's not a recurring dream, at least not yet, so I've only had it once. I dreamt he died and I wasn't there with my mom and him when it happened. But I did get to see him. I remember someone explained some things to us. There was a funeral. I dreamt all of that. But I didn't cry once in my dream. And so I woke up and there were no tears with me.

Today I dreamt my dad died, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that feeling of emptiness I got in my dream. Not sadness, not despair, just nothing. And I don't know why I couldn't feel anything when my dad died. Maybe I knew it was just a dream. Maybe I couldn't properly process the emotions. Or maybe I was a little relieved and I was feeling that release. That is the worst part.

Today I dreamt my dad died, and I'm not sure if I felt relief in my dream. Because I already know he's going to die. It's probably gonna happen sooner rather than later. And there's nothing I can do to help him. Or my mom. Or my sister. I want to be there and at least try to make the time he has left good for him, but I don't know how. I don't know what to do or what to say. I can't do anything at all for him. Despite all that he has done for me. So will it actually feel like a relief when he's really gone, because I won't have to worry about that anymore? Or will I regret not trying even harder?

Today I dreamt my dad died. And I feel guilty that I didn't cry. I feel guilty that maybe I even felt some relief that it was all finally over. I feel guilty that it was only a dream and I still have time with him but I still can't do anything for him.

Today I dreamt my dad died. And I'm scared for when that dream might come true.

[as-frightened-as-you]

some personal stuff I just needed to vent out. tw death and suicide.

I'm trying so hard to pretend that I'm okay, but the truth is no I'm not. I'm frantically cleaning the house, then I just lose a day doing I have no idea what, then I'm working for fourteen hours straight, then I'm cleaning the house again because it feels impossible to stop. I sleep at night, kind of. For fifteen hours or for five, no in-between. Yeah, not healthy.

My father died two months ago. We weren't close for a long fucking time; he had a drinking problem, and I cannot for a life of me keep up social connections when I'm not living with a person under the same roof. I don't think we even talked since my birthday, and that was fucking September.

I know he loved me, I don't have a problem with that. We were really close when I was little. Then my little brother grew up a bit, and I became a teenager, and I don't think he actually knew what to do with a depressed teenage girl. It was easier for him to get closer to my brother. I'm pretty sure I forgave him for that. Both of them. I get why that happened. (It does still feel unfair though)

And then his health went south, and then he was drinking, and drinking, and drinking. At first it was to keep the pain away, or that's what he said. Then it just became a thing. He was already drunk at one pm and he was still drunk in the evening and that was going on for weeks without him getting sober.

He did drink before, but not that much and not that often. Sometimes he was just really talkative, sometimes he became angry. I don't remember much of that from my childhood; I only know that I'm terrified of drunk people. I had a panic attack once when I heard some drunk students outside my place; I was behind a locked door, and still I was having a panic attack, just because they were there, and I was alone and scared. I almost had a breakdown when at some concert a guy on stage tried to be cool and poured some champagne on the crowd and I couldn't get rid of the smell of alcohol on my skin, I could still smell it days after the concert. I can't fully trust people if I see them drinking, even if it's one bottle of beer and I've known that person for years, I just can't fully trust them again if I once saw them drinking. Sometimes I think that maybe my father did something not good when I was a child and my memory just buried it. Because there has to be a reason for this phobia, right? I'm not sure if I want to know. I'll never know now, I guess.

When he started to drink all the time, he was mostly depressed and sometimes angry. He said we didn't love him and respect him. He said to me once that one day I might come home from school and find his body hanging from the chandelier. I wasn't in a good place myself then; I just thought "well, we'll see who will be the first one to hang". It was like seven years ago. I can still hear his voice saying that in my head.

He wasn't someone who would go to therapy; he just kept drinking. I went to university, I finished it, I came back home, and he kept drinking. Mom left him. He lived alone for a year.

He died of cirrhosis. We didn't even know until a week later when one of his friends called my mom and said that he hadn't heard from dad for a while. We were just in time to get him a proper burial — a couple of days later he would be buried as an unclaimed body. He died in his house, he managed to call an ambulance, he had all the documents and his phone on him — nobody just bothered to call us, or his sisters, or anyone at all.

It made me so angry. It still does, but then I was just angry, nothing else — at the police, at the guys at the morgue, at those funeral agents, and, more than anything, at him. The fact that it was alcohol of all things that killed him. He had a lot of health issues, he had a chronic illness that was trying to kill him since his twenties, he was suicidal — and he died of a fucking cirrhosis. I wasn't even grieving at that point, I was just so so angry.

The thing is, he drank so much that at some point I had to admit that the Dad I loved and admired so much as a child is already gone. We used to talk for hours about everything, he used to take me fishing and skiing and swimming and whatnot, he used to be there for me, and at some point all of that was gone. Alcohol killed it. Killed him long before killing his body. I really thought I had accepted it and mourned it. I really thought I was kinda okay with his death since we didn't even properly talk for years.

I really am not even close to being okay.

I live at his place now — or rather at the place that was his for this last year and that was my childhood home. I was going through his things these past few days. I'm a fucking mess.

It's not a place of an alcoholic — it's not in ruins or anything. It's a place of a very lonely and very depressed person who had nothing but the past to hold onto. The photos from my parents' wedding are there, and little handmade presents that my brother and I made for him when we were little.

And it's not that I feel guilty for losing connection with him — he was drinking hard during this year and he wasn't going to do anything about it. We tried to get him to get some help, he never did. It's just... so sad. He was brilliant, he was so loving and loved. And I can't help but think about how he felt during this year. And how he felt before he died.

I was so angry at the funeral. I thought — maybe he was so drunk he didn't see that coming. Maybe he was so drunk he didn't notice his skin turning yellow until it was too late.

But the thing is, he wasn't drunk. He was going to paint the wall, the paint and brushes were still there when we came. There was a cup of coffee he made for himself, and a pot of porridge. It's not something a drunk person would do.

A part of me was so relieved it wasn't a suicide — it would haunt me for the rest of my life, I would probably bury myself in guilt for not doing anything after he told he was thinking of killing himself. What could I do, I was a fucking teenager with a self-harm problem, but still. I was relieved he didn't actually kill himself. But I can't help but think — maybe he didn't call for help before it was too late because he didn't want to. Maybe it was a conscious choice. Maybe he wasn't ready to kill himself directly, but he accepted death when it came to him.

I don't think this thought makes me feel better. It really doesn't, actually. But I guess I'll never know what happened that day — I'm not even sure I want to know.

A part of me was hoping to find something in his things — a note or something like that. Probably not a diary, he never had one, but something. An old letter to the future. Anything, really.

All I got was lots and lots of sigarettes, some mild sedatives and anti-stress pills, and all those things from the past all around the place. He didn't really change anything here since mom left. Maybe he was hoping she would come back. She never did. It was getting to the point when he almost punched her.

I have no idea why I'm writing all this. I guess I just needed to vent it out, and it's somehow easier to write it in English rather than in my native language. Also I have a problem talking to friends about such things, and my mom seems to try not to think about him at all. Can't blame her, really.

If you're still here for some reason, thank you for reading all this. It's really not the content that was supposed to be in this blog. Sorry.

[susansluvpage]

Willing to sacrifice myself to save you my Love. Susan Pike

Twenty years later, willing to give it another try. Been twenty years since David broke my heart in London, leaving me after he had quick sex with me. Leaving me frustrated and heartbroken. I had become a police officer since then, and seen him a few times over the years. He was married then and I had gained weight. Now I found out he was divorced., I was unmarried also. I was 41 years old now, David was 51 years old. I went on a strict diet, became a vegetarian. Got down to 126 lbs, my goal was 120. Darn last 6 pounds. Bought sexy dresses and underwear, garter belts and nylons. Tight fitting shorts and tops. Started checking David’s schedule for week appearances. Hopefully when I see him again I can gain his interest again. I’m no longer in my early twenties like I was in London, but then again I let him break my heart then. We had sex but it was a quickie on his part. I was upset when he left me. Didn't get a chance to give him the special guest ft I wanted to give him or even tell him about it. Never told him about my emotional empathy connection with him either. When I connected with him I stopped seeing him as famous, started seeing him as a real man . Knew he had money and career problems and was sexually frustrated back then. Also a depression problem which led to his self-destructive behaviour. I knew he drank alcohol a lot. I guess because of my emotional empathy, I wanted to help him. I loved him and cared about him. But, wasn't in love with him. I had seen him over the years but, he was married and I don't mess around with married men. I just wanted to be friends. Last time I seen him I had gained a lot of weight, didn't look so good anymore. Been a police officer for 11 years now. David had seen me a few times in uniform so he knew I had become one. Along with my empathetic senses I would also sometimes get repeated dreams, weird when they came true or sometimes stopped a few bad things happening that was in them. I sometimes did dream about David, suspected he had deep depression problems and a deep loneliness. David was good at covering up his feelings and emotions, putting on that happy face to the public. Maybe that's why I never told him about my ability, to sense his strong feelings and emotions when I was near him. Then I started getting these repeated dreams about David, he was sitting down talking with people, he had some of his band members with him. It was not a stage he was on, he sang a bit but was mostly talking. Where could this be? In my dream as he was talking a man who I seen in my dream, male, white around early 30s wearing a dark blue shirt, came in and pulled a gun out and shot David right in his chest. He died instantly in my dream. I woke up crying. Then I kept having the nightmare dream repeatedly. I knew I had to warn David and try to stop it from coming true. Trying to figure out where this place he was at in my dream. Noticed he was due to make an appearance at a convention in California at a hotel there. That would be more informal, and he would talk rather then perform there. I had to go and warn him or stop it from happening somehow. It was a bit sooner then I wanted to see him. I was hoping to see him when he was on tour for a week somewhere. But, if my dream came true, I would never see him again. I couldn't let this happen, if I have to risk my own life protecting him I would. I made reservations at the hotel it was in. Hopefully I will see David to warn him, problem is how to get him to believe me.

Two weeks later I flew into the city where the convention was a few days before he was due to appear. Had booked my room for 5 days. A day before he was due to appear, I seen him in the hotel lobby, surrounded by people., I couldn't get to him. I waited around watching him. He headed for the restaurant with a group of people. I decided to do the same. Sitting at a table as close as I could get. I was wearing a low cut sexy dress and was hoping he would notice me. Don't know how I would ever get to talk to him alone. I ordered a small salad and some hot tea. Another waitress was busy taking the groups order. David's group was the band members he brought with and Sam the photographer I happened to know. No women were with them. The one band members sitting next to David noticed me, even when I walked in and sat down. After the waitress left to put in their order. The band member Paul, looked at me again, I looked at him and smiled.. He whispered to David, think I've fallen in love with that very pretty and sexy woman over there at that table. David looked and his eyes widened as he recognised me.. Sam David said, turn around slowly and look at that beautiful woman over there and tell me if you recognise her. Sam slowly turned around and looked at me. He’s eyes widened with a shocked expression on his face. I think it's Susan, David said I thought so., wonder if she is still a cop. Paul said, well it figures, you know the prettiest sexy lady in here David. She's older then you are mate, David said. Paul said, I don't care if she is. She’s gorgeous. David said, I think she came here to see me. Sam said, you want me to make sure she doesn't get near you David? Hell no! I’d like to get near her. Sam whispered to David, maybe she will dance for you again. David laughed, I can only hope. David then got up from the table and walked over to me. Susan, I barely recognize you. You look great. I smiled at him. I came here to see you David, need to talk with you about something. David said, come and join us. David grabbed my cup of tea, coffee he asked, no tea, you put cream in your tea? He asked. Yes, I said since London. He took my cup, I grabbed my water and silverware, he led me over to their table. He sat back down, placed my cup close to his then told Paul to move over. He had me sit down next to him. My waitress had my salad and was looking for me. One of the guys, told her, she's over here. She brought me my salad. Asked her for another hot tea. Everyone’s food started arriving, David had a salad and a vegetable dish. I began cutting my salad into little pieces. David looked amused as I did it. Then he cut his too! My waitress brought me more hot tea. I poured a packet of sugar into it and some cream. After we finished. David asked me if I was still a police officer. I said, yes, 11 years now. Paul said, you can handcuff me anytime. David laughed, I smiled. He asked is that all your eating, just that small salad. I said, yes, trying to lose this last stubborn 6 lbs. David says, all you need is some more exercise, it will help you lose it. I laughed. David whispered in my ear, or you could dance for me again. I whispered back. Maybe you could finally get the special gift I had for you, that you missed because you left. What is this gift he inquired. I wanted to give you ecstasy. I said. The drug? No! What it's named after. It makes a man feel like he's natural high. But, a man has to be able to get hard a second time. I knew you could be then. He said, I still can now too! What is your room number he asked. 402, I said. He said, oh! We are on the same floor, I’m in 421. Don't drink any alcohol tonight, it dulls your senses. I’ll come to your room in a hour. He said. Ok! I said.

Went up to my room. Took a quick shower., blow dried my hair. Put on a sexy silk robe. Waited for David. He also took a shower, shaved and put on shorts and a t-shirt. We both brushed our teeth and used mouthwash wash. David knocked on my door. I said to myself. I’m going to totally please him, this time even if it took 20 years to get together again Enjoy doing it too! I put my arms around him and kissed him. He kissed me back passionately. We kissed for a bit, his hand went to my breast. He undid my robe, opening it. His mouth went down to my nipple licking and sucking on it. As he played with the other nipple. I took his shirt off. Then led him to the bed. Taking his shorts off. He still had a beautiful body and big hard cock. I took my robe off. David laying down next to me resumed licking and sucking on my nipples. You still have beautiful breasts luv, he said. His hand went between my legs, finding my special spot. I moaned, fingers went inside me making me hot and wet for him. My hand was on his cock rubbing him. He was hard, he always had a large cock, which surprised me 20 years ago. Considering he's only 5’3” tall. But he has big thick hands for a man his size I noticed. He got on too and entered me, he moaned, we moved together, he went slowly at first, giving me pleasure, I started to orgasm, crying out and moaning. He started thrusting harder, faster and deeper. I put my legs around him. He let out a cry and a moan as he came deep inside me. We were both breathing heavily. He kissed me, then went to my side laying down. I got up, cleaned up and brought him a warm washcloth. He cleaned himself off. I payed back down. Now about this gift I need to collect you told me about luv. I kissed him, then we kissed passionately. Then I kissed and licked his neck. Down his chest, licking and sucking on his nipples. Licking down his stomach. Licked his scar on his right side. Licked the head of his penis all around. He moaned, then licked down the outside of his penis to his balls. I spread his legs open, licking and sucking each one of his balls. He moaned again. Then I lifted his balls a bit and licked the spot underneath his balls, sending waves of pleasure to him. He was moaning and breathing heavy now. I licked the spot again. He moaned, then licked his ball's again. Went back up licking his semi-hard penis, putting it in my mouth and sucking on him. Placing my finger underneath his balls lightly rubbing that spot again. He was moaning loudly now, his penis was getting very hard. I stopped and bent my legs on each side of him, so he didn't feel my weight. Placed his penis in my vagina. He moaned I let it only go half way in going in and out, building him up to his peak. I orgasmed. He moaned as he felt it. I then went all the way down on his cock. He met my movement. Breathing heavily and moaning as he was thrusting deep inside me. He let out a loud cry of ecstasy, a a he exploded deep inside me. I stayed on top of him, moving a bit, put me head on his chest. He began shivering and his whole body shock , he moaned in pleasure as he was coming down from the special peak. I got off him going to his side. He was still breathing heavily. I put my hand on his chest and stomach rubbing him lightly. Took him 10 minutes before his breathing returned to normal. He still felt his body tingling from the after effects. He said, I have never in all my years of having sex ever felt anything as incredible as what you just did to me. It did feel like a natural high. You wanted to do this to me 20 years ago luv? Yes, I said. Dam, he said, I could have had you doing that to me for 20 years. I noticed when I first entered you,,your vagina was tight around me. Felt good but was surprised. That's because I haven't had sex in 5 years. Five years he said, he was surprised and kind of pleased. David before I went to London, I hadn't had sex in two years. Since before I divorced my husband. David said, I thought you had sex with Chris in Chicago. I said no, he never touched me. I have never had sex with anyone around you

Cont…..more later