#miranda is so normal real

[h-doodles]

And our love is here || A webweave studying MC's part in Miranda/MC themes :)

[stayininmylane]

I know people dislike the implications of Shadows of Rose, but consider:

The spirits watch over Rose for her whole life. (Read Left to Right)

[mrfoox]

So I may be losing the bf today, let's see

[sapphiccup]

Burning Blue...

Pairing: Abby x reader

Cw: Slow burn <3 series…. //light panic attacks descriptions, heavy panic attacks, awkward conversations, slightly suggestive, heavy suggestive,malnourished abby for the first few chapter, trust issues, anxiety, s3lf harming(abby putting herself in risky situations tbh), survivors guilt, fluff, angst, cheating, blood, gore, zombies, enemies, kidnapping, badass Abby, buff Abby, over protective Abby, relationship goals in a zombie series fic, motorcycles, did I say fluff?, heavy make out sessions, living together trope, yep, gay stuff.WARNING there will be nsfw in later chapters which includes: voyeurism, auralist, bdsm, almost getting caught while doing the deed, getting caught while doing the deed, outside fucking, penetration, oral, consent is so sexy omg, fingering both receiving, cunt slapping, strap, anal, sexual banter while fucking, somehow found sex toys 🤷🏽‍♀️, vodka on tits 👀 WHO SAID THAT?! shooting while fucking, having to be silenced during high risk mission fuck, face riding, consensual sleep fucking, consensual morning head, and strap warming.MDNI

Summary: There was a woman who suddenly showed up at your boring quiet village. Everything was so normal until she came around. Your world turning upside down and side to side, on a particular rocky ride. Abby the last survivor of wherever she came from, or you being the last survivor of Abby…?

Dc!:@/mmadeinheavenn

Song: Burning blue by Mariah the Scientist���💎

Masterlist…ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Prologue: …

⭒

Abby is in quite the pickle, she is trying to get back in the real world again after dealing with so many cross roads with life. Scared to make the the wrong move again, however a certain someone pushes her to get back out there with life again. And once she does take that step.. well. Let’s find that out together, shall we?

Chapter 1: Nursing you back to life.. (wip) 5/31/2025

⭒

This rose has thorns yet she still grew from the cracks of the earth, only you take the step to water her roots, and pluck her weeds. Pricked again and again, and.. again. Until she finally lets you in on one condition: keep an eye on him.

Chapter 2: Oh yeah? She’s the problem!

⭒

Abby’s is too independent for her own good, she just won’t let reader take care of her. It’s as if that vulnerability with that single panic attack has her trying to prove something. She wants it to be known she’s not weak. However reader can only see a child throwing a tantrum, a tantrum for pride. Will you help her or watch her struggle again?

Chapter 3: Beyond the boundary

⭒

To make up for such silly antics, Abby figures.. why not a dance? Maybe even a drink or two, and when drinks are making the sober mind fight for its life, all she can do is give in to her thoughts, she spills everything to you, and I mean everything. But will it last?

Chapter 4: Behind Enemy lines

⭒

Miranda- the chief of the village decides: it’s time for you and Abby to put petty squabbles aside and work with each other for once. A tower needs to be searched not only for infected but to make sure unwanted ones are not trespassing.

Chapter 5: Glaciers

⭒

Abby misunderstands your relationship with her and assumes you were never serious about her, she puts up a wall, refusing to speak to you, but when she does its curt and rushed.

Chapter 6: Shooting for my own hand

⭒

If Abby’s so high strung on the idea that you do what you want to do.. then so be it. Treacherous waters of the unknown, could drown you, but at this point you could give two shits about what drowns you. And so does Abby… If this is how it’s meant to be, then fuck it. Hello twins..

Chapter 7: Mend the bond

⭒

Maybe this little dove reached to high for the sun? And maybe your raven will Eclipse your wishes. A traitor is afoot in the village, and you find out the worst way possible of whom it is. Does Abby love you enough to save you? Or will she throw you away again?

Epilogue: Conflagration

………………

…….

….

…

.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

[whore4gwen]

Re8 Women dating HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, & Mother Miranda

WLW

———————————————————————

Tags: Light talks of manipulation, narcissism, and sadism, mental health issues, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, possessiveness, slightly unhinged behavior, MY personal head cannons, very slight suggestiveness, Mirandas fucking God complex, isolation, religious elements, cuddling, poor perception of love, & tax evasion.

A/N: Im working on sm things rn it’s not even funny. Despite that, I desperately wanted to post something, so here’s some of my hc. No these are not all my hcs, these are just some of the REALISTIC ones I have. These are based on my own personal perception of these fictional characters. You are welcome to disagree with anything I write, but you’re not welcome to harass me about it. Please keep negativity to yourselfs. Anyways, please enjoy!

———————————————————————

Alcina:

-It’s not that Lady Dimitrescu is incapable of loving another, I just think it’s the way she would love.

-Carnal, possessive, dangerous, a little crazed even. Nothing about the lady’s love is sensual or soft. She’s powerful, domineering, and boy does she relish in it. Of course she’s aware of all the things she could do, all the things you’d let her do. So willing, so compliant, so easy to control.

-Alcina is a narcissist through and through. You will bend to her will, to her every need. You’re hers, after all. (We still love you thou)

-I feel like her love is very incessant, very smothering for lack of better words. She’s not exactly clingy, but she needs you around, she needs to feel your presence.

-Always, and I mean always watching you. Nothing you do will go past her. She needs to know exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times.

-A bit emotionally manipulative. Of course she doesn’t see it that way, she just wants everything to go her way. What’s so wrong with that?

-I think for the most part she’s a little self aware about her flaws and what not, but I wouldn’t say this with 100% certainty. A big part of her doesn’t really see a problem with the way she is. It’s absolutely normal.

-But to be fair, it’s not like anyone would call her out.. so🤷🏻‍♀️

-Pet names pet names pet names. Alcina absolutely adores them. She only really uses your names unless she’s really pissed. In that case, run.

Donna:

-Shy. So incredibly so that you don’t hear her voice till weeks after working for her. And the way your jaw fell to the ground when you heard it had Angie belly laughing on the ground. If it wasn’t for her, you thought maybe you were hearing things.

-Forgets to eat often. She gets so preoccupied with her dolls, she doesn’t always take the best care of herself. So make sure you remind her to eat:(

-It’ll take AGES to get Donna there, but when you do, she is nothing short of the wait. Very passionate, and a little unhinged.

-Like Alcina, she’s a bit possessive.

-She finally found someone she was comfortable with showing her scare, you’re not going anywhere. You belong to her and that’s final. You’re literally stuck, so get comfortable.

-Values your opinion over everything. Her cooking, her sewing skills, her Garden. Donna swoons at praise. A light pink dusting her cheeks any time you compliment her, no matter how minor.

-Poor Donna has been alone for quite some time now. Touch starved as well as touch repulsed. Have fun with that :)

- Canonically, Donna has really bad mental health issues, which causes her to lash out and make rash decisions. She’s not abusive by any means, just a lot to handle.

-She gets into her own head a lot. Constantly convincing herself none of this is real. That one day she’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.

-I know she has manic episodes. Cannot convince me otherwise. Before you, they were almost unmanageable. Your first experience dealing with Donna during one terrified you. You were so worried about Donna, you had no idea what was happening.

-You tried desperately to comfort her. Unfortunately the voices were stronger than your weak attempts.

-After a while, she finally calmed down and explained that catastrophe as best as she could without scaring you off.

-At first Donna didn’t really understand the purpose of cuddling. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she was just truly confused. After having the significance of cuddling explained to her, she fell in love with it.

-Unironically, she’s the big spoon. She loves holding you, making sure you’re safe in her arms. Now, it’s the only way she can fall asleep.

Miranda:

-This bitch is so crazy.

-All shits and giggles aside, this woman is absolutely sadistic.

-Mind games are inevitable. Especially if she’s truly in love with you, in her dark and twisted way.

-Possessive asf.

-Did I already say possessive?

-Miranda is definitely stingy and will isolate you from your friends/family. Why do you need them when you have her? She’s your Goddess, she’s all you need. Never mind everyone else.

-Definitely the type to tell you to take a nap if you ever say you’re tired of her shit.

-You’re not going anywhere. Nice try, but no.

-I know this is obvious, but her God complex is really top tier. I mean seriously.

-Absolutely loves being worshipped, and not just in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. She wants to be put first, she wants to be your number one priority, your Goddess, your everything.

-She will find a way to incorporate her status & power in everything she does.

-She loves you, but you must always remember your place, under her. Figuratively and literally.

-Despite her cut off personality, she’s definitely a cuddlier. Especially after a long day of failed experiments and aggravating meetings.

-Like Donna, Miranda has been alone for almost a century. She’s so damn touch starved yet also incredibly touch repulsed at the same time. Have fun coping.

-Of course she threatened you if you ever told anyone thou. I mean can you imagine THE Mother Miranda being spooned? Imagine what the public would say.

-Fucking tax evader.

-After she gets Eva back, successfully, she lessens up, but only a bit. Like Alcina, she is the way she is and she doesn’t really see the problem with it.

I want all three of them so badly.

[gothwineaunts]

I tried my best to replicate the post that Tumblr ate earlier.

It’s not as good but you'll get the jist I think. :’)  

---

Hi again! I wanted to follow up on my post from yesterday. I’ve been mostly offline since then, and I feel much better now, especially after seeing the thoughtful responses y’all left. Where did you all even come from!? I don’t think I’ve ever posted this account anywhere, haha. But thank you so much. I’m horrendous at taking a damn compliment but I read all the replies and reblogs and I’m just incredibly humbled. You all brought up my mood a lot and highkey made me feel sane again. I’ve been so confused at why everyone in the WEBTOON comments seems to be so mad all the time, it kind of does my head in if I’m being honest.

But please don’t worry about me or Flynn. Or about Nevermore! We’d never change the story to fit what we think the commenters want us to do, for a lot of reasons. The most important of which is. If we had to do that, I think we’d rather just stop making it. What they seem to want is a story we’re not really interested in telling.

Wholesome wlw is a wildly important thing to be able to find if you’re looking for it. That really cannot be overstated. Until very recently, queer characters have been subjected by popular media to a disproportionate amount of anguish and violence. So the concept of seeing two women just, living a safe and fulfilling life together? I get why people want to see that so badly. And there’s so much beautifully written aspirational content for queer audiences out there now, and I’m pleased to death over it. But the thing is, it’s just not what we’re making.

Nevermore was always intended to be a dark gothicky romance with horror elements. Like Wuthering Heights, or Phantom of the Opera. Because those were the stories that always inspired us when we were young. Bloodsoaked stories of melodrama, intrigue, grief, and passion. Those stories would captivate me and get me asking all kinds of questions. Why can’t the Phantom be a beautiful woman? Why does Christine have the agency of a desk lamp? Why can’t sapphics have something cool like this?

So we decided to make it. Nevermore is not a wholesome romance. It doesn’t try to be. The point was never to explore sapphics having a healthy and (heavy air quotes here) “normal” relationship, like heterosexual couples get to have in real life. We already have that, together, Flynn and I. We live it, everyday.  In Nevermore, what we wanted most was to explore a sweeping sapphic romance full of danger, like heterosexual couples get to have in fiction. That’s why we love those kinds of stories so much, because of how divorced they are from the mundanity of real life. They’re fantasies.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir, aha.

But my point is: if you go to a hardware store to order a cake, you’re probably going to be disappointed. If what you crave is aspirational wlw content, there are so many bakeries you can go to that will give you exactly what you’re hoping for, and more. I especially recommend Muted by Miranda Mundt. It’s also on Webtoon, it’s completed, and it’s free to read.

And please know that I’m not saying to stop reading Nevermore, just maybe to adjust your expectations a little bit. We don’t sell cakes here, but I am pretty sure I've got a few 12ft tall skeleton lawn ornaments in the back if you're interested.

[rallamajoop]

That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

[muffinsin]

hello gorgeous!

I hope your doing well and are having a lovely week!! I'm interested and wondering if you'd like to do some hc or anything really around Alcina taking her three little bug flies to a lord meeting, or juet how the Dimitrescu daughters act and feel if you dont wanna add alcina into it!

love your work and hope you have a blessed day ♡

Hey there, hon :)! Absolutely!👀 I’ve been including little thoughts of her behaviour and thoughts when taking her buggies to meetings here and there, normally in my latest Story, though it’s fun to get them out as proper HCs ;P!

Let’s get into it🙌!

Masterlists

Generally speaking, Alcina is not particularly eager about taking her daughters to the meetings

It isn’t that she trusts them- that is not entirely the reason, at least- but rather her fierce, draconic protectiveness of them

She is no fool, and would not go so far as to say she truly trusts any of the lords, or Mother Miranda, with what is most precious to her: Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela

She knows vaguely of twisted secrets snaking like vines throughout Donna Beneviento’s domain, knows of the utter lack of life there

She knows of Salvatore Moreau’s twisted experiments, knows of the dangers the mere region- the reservoir- poses for her daughters. She knows of his dedication to Mother Miranda, sees it knows no bounds and will do whatever he sees fit to please her, no matter how twisted

She knows of Heisenberg’s cruelty. She knows of his anger, his hatred. And while she cannot control Cassandra in particular sneaking off to his factory to toy with Lycans and his machinery alike, she does intend to not bring her daughters any closer than she must

And lastly, Mother Miranda herself

She is dedicated, of course. Of course, Mother Miranda knows of her daughters, knows of their progress, their abilities, their limits. And while Alcina does look up to the woman, she sees her critical, cold demeanor, knows she would not spare even a glance of kindness for her daughters should they act out during a meeting

Alas, she very rarely brings them along. In fact, she has done so only three times

Once, a required, demanded opportunity to introduce the three to the Lords

It was no request, certainly

The second time was similar, serving only the purpose to show off their abilities and skills and most of all, their progress

And one last time, only to calm the curiosity plaguing the three women’s minds and to prove to Cassandra and Daniela in particular; such meetings are no place for their impatient minds, as they would merely bore them

Bela

Out of all her sisters, Bela is the one attending meetings the most, and the only one attending ones they may not join

She is, after all, Mother’s heiress- as she enjoys reminding them of

That aside, Bela stands out with impeccable manners

She keeps quiet, just rarely granted to speak during meetings. Still, she likes the importance attending makes her feel. Her sisters don’t have to know she must stay quiet by their mother’s side nearly the entire time

That being said, Bela never disrupts the meeting

She’s quiet, and still

She doesn’t speak when not addressed and doesn’t squirm in her seat from impatience or boredom

She listens, often nodding her head a little awkwardly, unsure whether her presence is tolerated, or appreciated

And still, she finds it all makes up for how the meetings make her feel

After all, it means Alcina trusts her, knows she can and will behave, knows she can rely on her

Often, she convinces herself: this must mean she’s Mother’s real favorite! No matter what her sisters say…

Sometimes, she studies the Lords, particularly curious about them

She never speaks to any of the lords without being addressed by them, though watches

She knows the most of Heisenberg, often course, and often snarls quietly to herself before the meeting starts, when the man picks a fight with her mother

Endearing, Alcina thinks whenever she picks up the little, sharp sound. Her daughter does come after her, easily adapting her dislike towards the other Lord

Still; once the meeting begins, Bela is sure to keep up the calm facade she knows is expected of her in the presence of the other lords and Mother Miranda

She’s easily the most curious about Lady Beneviento, her silence, the heavy air surrounding her

And- again, following her mother’s example- she is easily the most disgusted by Lord Salvatore, even as she does not dare show it

And then, lastly, there is Mother Miranda

She certainly is curious about the woman, in utter awe of her grace and authority

Often, she wishes the woman would pay more mind to her

She so desperately wants to prove herself to her, too, after all

Perhaps, if she continues being on her best behaviour during the meetings…

Cassandra

It’s rare she joins Alcina during meetings, having done so only three to six times in her life

She just doesn’t see the appeal of it, really

Sitting in those chairs, watching the Lords converse and talk of things she couldn’t care about in the slightest..

Not only does it bore her, but she also finds herself getting easily annoyed at not getting to join in and speak, something both Alcina and Bela forbid her from doing

Instead, she usually stays behind all too eagerly, making use of the lack of her mother’s presence when she is off to the meetings

Often, this means more maidens killed than usual, more messes made in the dungeon area, and more things to drive particularly Bela insane with

When her sister too is off at a meeting, Cassandra likes to annoy her little sister in particular, claiming with Bela gone she is in charge now

As such, she often giggles hours later when she is scolded by their mother for making Daniela clean up her messes. Oftentimes she too earns an annoyed snarl from Bela when she teases “it’s that easy. I don’t know why you’re always complaining!”

During the rare times she has been at a Lord’s meeting, Cassandra is- restless, let’s say

She fidgets with her dress and bites at her lip, unsure what to do, bored out of her mind

Her fingers would twitch, overcome with the desire to do something- anything!

For this reason especially she loved the times she was brought mainly to be shown off, when she would get to easily not only defeat, but utterly destroy a pack of Lycans in front of the Lords

She particularly enjoyed seeing Mother Miranda’s pleased expression and hearing Heisenberg’s annoyed grunt

Of course, for this alone, Mother would always praise her after

She doesn’t like being shown off, has always tried to be one to not care for the opinion of others

Still, she found herself holding her head a little higher after Mother Miranda praised mainly her during the three meetings she did attend, easily picking up on her strength and abilities

She cares little for the other Lords, often having to fight the urge to scrunch up her face when in close proximity to Lord Salvatore or the doll Angie in particular- not that she has ever been quite good at that, or subtlety as a whole

Just another reason she ought not attend the meetings…

Daniela

Daniela loves the Lords meetings!

She likes any excuse to get out the castle, really

But the meetings? They’re her favourite!

The first time she is to attend one she’s painfully curious, and nervous

She sticks to her mother and sisters’ sides, often hiding behind them until she becomes a little more comfortable

Much unlike her sister, Daniela loves being shown off!

What she liked less, however, is how her sisters seemed to get most of the attention

Left grumbling and hiding by her mother’s side, her bottom lip wobbling a little against her dress, she was left to listen to why they were so great

The second time it was hardly any different, which led her to dislike being present a fair amount

Still, she still keeps on begging her mother to take her with her, desperate to prove herself and make an impression, too, just like Bela and Cassandra have!

But, unlike her eldest sister, Daniela could not remain as controlled, which Alcina is fully aware of

She’d merely whine when bored, try to distract herself by playing with a lycan, talk out of turn or try to swarm away, which Alcina knows especially Mother Miranda would not stand for

As such, with a heavy heart, she always denies her precious daughter’s hopeful request to let her come with her- just once!- too

Ah, but she’s so curious!

So curious about the Lords! About the world outside of the castle! She so rarely gets out, isn’t allowed past the village and the castle border. She can barely remember how the inside of the chapel the Lords meet at looks!

She is, of course, the most curious of Lady Beneviento

Not even Mother could tell her much about her, whereas she knows plenty of Heisenberg and even a fair amount of Moreau Salvatore

Alas, the last time she was at a meeting Alcina had to nudge her head to the side carefully multiple times, noticing the Lord shift uncomfortably with Daniela’s curious eyes nearly constantly on her

As if to make up for not letting her join her, Alcina does often end up indulging Daniela by telling her roughly of the meeting

Usually she finds her youngest by the entrance hall already, her hands and face pressed against the glass of one of the nearby windows

Her eyes so wide, curious, a hundred questions sitting just at the tip of her tongue

The moment the door would open? She’d swarm towards her, giggling and asking every little question on her mind

Usually, not quite the type she might expect from others

“Was Mother Miranda there?”

“Did it snow?”

“Did you see horses?”

“I missed you mama!”

“Cassandra stole took my books!”

It only ever makes the mother of three smile fondly

[omegastation]

Brooks tried to be funny but the entire DLC is just... sad when it comes to her and the clone. And I know I'm not the only one who appreciates Brooks and the clone as characters. Replaying the Citadel DLC is showing quite clearly the tragedy of the road not taken.

The clone is the lonely figure who doesn't have what Shepard has and what makes them special: a team, a "we", a "us". No "we face our enemy together".

And Brooks who is not really Brooks plays a role with Shepard and with the clone. She watched from the sidelines as she put together dossiers for Shepard: everyone joined him, but not her. Never her. When she does join him, she plays a role. Not even the best version of herself, as she tries to be as clumsy and awkward as she can be as Staff Analyst Maya Brooks. Still. She gets respected, accepted and her advice is taken into account by Shepard and the Normandy crew. I think it did something to Brooks, and she will realize what exactly months or years later. But that acceptance is for Maya Brooks. It's not really for the person inside, the real one, lurking in the shadows, who I think, is longing, like the clone, to be loved.

Both Brooks and the clone have been rejected by the Illusive Man, probably one of the worst father figures in Mass Effect. Brooks is also compared to Miranda, as the clone puts it "mine has more bite". But not really when it comes to loyalty as we know. The two father figures for Shepard are David Anderson, who has a true love for Shepard, and Hackett, who is mentioned twice showing support - defending Shepard a Spectre candidate as we've seen in the archives and as someone who would understand immediately that the clone is not Shepard. Meaning the people we love understand our essence, and can't be fooled.

Unlike Shepard, the clone and Brooks are alone, playing roles, with fractured identities, and so much of the DLC is about their suffering: the clone especially. Brooks believes the clone would not have let them live, and the clone finds out that they're not going to be saved by Brooks. The look as she walks away is not one of triumph. That's sadness. And I think it's because she believes, among many things, that her and the clone are one and the same and therefore, not worthy of love and safety.

The moment the clone realizes Brooks will not save them makes me want to cry:

It is normal to want to be a part of a "we" and to despair when you realize you are alone in this world. The tragedy is that they could have been a "we", Brooks and the clone, but they didn't believe in each other enough. The person who believes in them the most is a Paragon Shepard, pleading for Brooks' life, telling the clone to live. Someone they both must see as an enemy, someone they tried to hurt badly, but someone they desperately wish to be friends with.

A lot of "what if" situations come to mind with those two. I know they've done terrible things, they are who they are. Still, in an alternate universe, I hope they're happy, safe and loved.

[h-doodles]

My love, mine all mine || A webweave studying Miranda's part in Miranda/MC themes :)

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* The Wishing Hole (Yandere x GN!Reader)

Warning!! This is not a romance, read at your own risk CW: LONG, Dead Dove, abuse, murder, trauma, manipulation, masturbation, mutilation, unhealthy relationships, obsession

"Have you heard about the hole?"

Part I

"It's right over here!" Miranda theater-whispered to her friends as she led them through the black woods. Their flashlights bobbed in the darkness, the only light visible to the trio of twelve year olds as they trekked through the thicket. (Reader) gripped onto their envelope tightly, fearful of leaving sweat marks on it.

They had been staying the night at Brian's house when Miranda brought up the hole. A local urban legend by that point, the story of a hole that granted wishes. Brian had chastised Miranda for believing a story so stupid, but still followed her and (Reader) when they snuck out to grant their wishes.

"How do you know where it is?" He nervously hissed.

"Abby's sister Rebecca has a friend who found it. Over here." Miranda spoke as though it should have been obvious why she knew where it was.

(Reader) could do nothing but hope. They hoped hard, over and over again, wrinkling the papers in their fist as the yellow light led them to their future. All they could do was beg the universe to grant their wish. For the hole to be real.

The trees thinned and opened, revealing a small clearing with a very deep hole dug out of the earth. It was a normal looking hole, but in the dark of a moonless night to a group of children, it was ominous.

Their muddy boots all stopped a good foot away from the edge. The ground didn't look stable.

After taking a shaky breath, Miranda threw her envelope into the hole, squeezing her eyes shut as she focused all her energy on the wish written inside the letter she tossed. Brian thought about arguing, calling out his friends for littering, but instead copied Miranda, throwing his wish in as well. (Reader) felt adrenaline shoot to their finger tips as the anxiety tried to rip through their veins and escape their skin. Their packet was thicker than either of their friends', and fell harder as they chucked it in with all their strength.

The only future (Reader) wanted was nearly impossible. It would take divine intervention to get that happiness. "What did you wish for?" Miranda asked Brian behind (Reader).

"I want to know what I want to do."

"That's it?"

"What'd you wish for?"

"A hot boyfriend, who's gonna love me, and marry me."

"Well, when you're trapped in a marriage with three kids, I'll be doing what I love every day."

Miranda groaned loudly, refusing to get into another argument with her best friend. She instead looked at (Reader) who was still focusing on the hole. "What did you wish for, (Reader)?"

Their eyes seemed to be seeing something the other two couldn't see. Large pupils fixated on nothing, still filled with enough anxiety to cripple an adult.

"Someone who loves me.."

"Ugh, not you too.." Brian's voice melted into the background, almost unintelligible in the dense air. The contents of the wish filled (Reader's) head to the point that nothing else could be heard.

• 15 years later •

Another failed date.

Dark rings permanently decorated the underneath of (Reader's) tired eyes. The perpetually single adult slid down against the wall, too exhausted to continue standing. There was nothing particularly wrong with the guy, but he just wasn't "the one" for (Reader). He was boring and awkward, rambling about his job and future plans, bragging about his hypothetical future fortune. Nothing he did was bad enough for (Reader) to guiltlessly label him a douche, but nothing about him was their type.

They pulled out their phone, looking at the dark haired man on their wallpaper for a second too long before opening up their messages with their date. (Reader) typed up a quick message to thank Rich for the date, but that they didn't see it going any further.

The phone was tossed to the side as (Reader) struggled to stand, grabbing a beer from their fridge as the phone began chiming from the linoleum. Texts rapidly coming in were ignored by (Reader) as they cracked open their first drink for the night.

His unread messages echoed through (Reader's) shoebox apartment.

The weary adult wondered how their therapist would react next week at their appointment. It wasn't realistic for an adult to fixate on a wish they had made as a child, but just like all those years ago, (Reader) knew deep in their bones that there was no happiness for them if they couldn't have that wish come true. Rich was attractive, in an average sort of way, with straight brown hair cut a little too short for the shape of his brow. He had nice lips, (Reader) thought, but couldn't imagine kissing them.

The beer tasted like lightly bitter water. Not a promising sign; it tasted like they would need something stronger. On the way to the living room (Reader) noticed their bedroom door had some dirt on the white paint, like someone had pushed it open with filthy hands.

(Reader) felt an anxious jolt to their system. A familiar pain they hadn't felt in a long time. They pushed open the door, timidly entering their own room like a stranger nervous to be caught. But the room was empty.

"So, how'd your date with Rich go?" Adam asked hopefully. The same trio of friends since primary school sat in their local diner. It was a monthly ritual, gathering for brunch to force themselves to keep in touch. They tried to hold the meeting every week, but with work scheduling it was impossible. Adam sat with his husband, Jon, across from Brian and (Reader). Everyone had changed so much as they got older, but that was to be expected. No one can stay a child forever.

(Reader) sighed before sipping on their milkshake. Adam knew exactly what that meant, and groaned, just as dramatically as when he was a child. His hair may be shorter, but some things stayed consistent.

"What was wrong with this guy?"

"Nothing!" (Reader) replied defensively. "He just... wasn't my type."

Brian pushed up his glasses. "Maybe you should lower your standards."

"Brian!"

"-I mean, it's good to have standards, obviously, but people are real people, not characters in a book. No one is going to match your description of a perfect partner, because people aren't perfect, ya know?"

(Reader) stole a glance at their phone, admiring the black haired man behind the time. "You can say that, because your wish already came true. Both of yours."

Both Brian and Adam looked ashamed and a little uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact and fixating on their meals. Jon almost went cross-eyed trying to understand what (Reader) was implying.

(Reader) stood, tossing a couple bills onto the table. "I have to go, I'll talk to you guys later."

"Okay, have a good day! Text me when you get home." Adam said warmly, hugging his dear friend tightly while trying to shape his face into a happier expression.

"I will. Bye."

Brian gave up a small side hug, grimacing.

Jon waited until (Reader) was out of sight before asking "Were they talking about that wish you guys made as kids?"

The bespectacled young man rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"I know what Adam wished for, but what did you and (Reader) wish for?" When he mentioned Adam's wish, Adam rolled his eyes playfully and they nudged each other lightly. Their whole relationship was practically diabetic for Brian, who still after all these years didn't get the appeal in romance.

Brian adjusted his glasses again, clearing his throat. "I wanted to know what to do with my life." And he had found that calling. The summer before high school he discovered a YouTube channel centered around ornithology and sent him on a strange spiral of bird mania. His friends and family thought it was a temporary fixation that he would lose interest in after a year or so, but his newfound fascination guided him all the way through college, landing him in an animal husbandry profession taking care of cranes at (what Brian considered to be) a humane zoo. "(Reader) wished for someone to love them."

"Well, I believe there's someone for everyone. It takes some people longer to find 'the one' than it does for others, and (Reader) seems like a great person, so I'm sure they'll meet someone that fits their childhood ideal."

Although Jon meant well with his words he could see the discomfort on his husband's and Brian's faces, their eyes either focused on their drink or plate.

They never read (Reader's) wish.

But over the years the two friends had begun to piece together a picture of the kind of man (Reader) wanted.

It was a complete breach of trust, looking into a friend's past, going full internet stalker mode to investigate into the secrets (Reader) wouldn't divulge. And what they found...

Was a lot.

They didn't know how to open the conversation with their third musketeer, since the facts and speculations were all obtained without (Reader's) knowledge or permission, but if Brian and Adam were correct in their understanding of what (Reader's) wish was, they genuinely wanted to help (Reader).

They also knew where (Reader) was going. But even that was impossible to confess.

Because at that moment, (Reader) was in their car for their monthly four hour visit with the greatest man (Reader) had ever known. It was unfortunate scheduling, but (Reader) couldn't compromise the day for either party. Keeping in contact with their friends was important for their mental health (according to their therapist) but this meeting was more important to (Reader) than practically anything else in their life.

Metal fencing and high beige walls appeared through the trees like a fairy tale castle. Instead of an evil dragon guarding the entrance, however, there were armed guards. Still every bit of evil in (Reader's) eyes.

"Welcome back, Mx. (Reader)." The usual security officer greeted grimly. Before he could ask for identification, (Reader) already had it out. Although they had met many times throughout the past decade, it was still a formality required by law. The two filled out the necessary paperwork while only offering tight smiles. He opened the gate for (Reader) to drive in and park in the visitor's lot. (Reader) always felt the cameras on them whenever they entered this "castle".

Officers emptied (Reader's) pockets and scanned their body for metal. There would be no physical connection at all, but they still needed to take precautions.

(Reader) was led through the lifeless grey halls towards visitation. Each step made their heart race and fostered the smile on their lips. Approaching the room with squeaky broken stools and bulletproof glass relaxed their faux grin for a genuine tranquility. There were no other visitors at the time.

The stool creaked under (Reader) as they gently eased into the old thing, staring at the window. Shortly after they sat down, the man from their phone's wallpaper, now with more silver hair than black, shuffled in on the other side, smiling softly as he sat across from (Reader). They both grabbed the phones.

"Hi Dad."

His dark eyes with pupils so large that without direct light made them look black had deeply etched wrinkles decorating them that folded deeper as he smiled. When Donavon McElroy was arrested, the news outlets focused on his eyes like some kind of Kubrick film, fixating on how you could just see the evil in some people. It felt as though the only person in the entire country who could see how loving Donavon's eyes were was (Reader).

"Hey kiddo. I've missed you."

"I missed you too." There were only four hours of visitation allowed per month. "Have you been getting my letters?"

Greasy ringlets of hair tumbled to the side as he cocked his head. "They're still the highlight of each week." Donavon didn't blink often. Even though the lights always hurt his eyes, no matter how dim they were, he seemed like a mannequin, refusing to blink and miss a second of his precious child's face. "How have you been since our last visit? I know you said in your letters that you're still going to therapy, which is good, very good.. how's that going for you?"

(Reader) felt their smile dip a little. "Well, it's going. I don't really like my therapist, but I know it's just because I don't like what she has to say. Even if I change doctors, they'll still say the same things."

Donavon nodded understandingly. It was like that at first for him as well, receiving psychiatric treatment while in prison. "I didn't like being told that my line of thinking was.. wrong. I knew that logically my thinking was, of course, obviously wrong, but it didn't feel wrong, so having a.. professional tell me that was upsetting."

"But it's important that you continue with it. And I'm very proud of you for continuing with it."

(Reader) laughed. It was a sharp scoff of a laugh, but not spiteful. It filled their chest with hot lava to hear someone praise them for doing what they've been doing since they were ten years old. Because it was difficult. Even if (Reader) continuously told themselves that this was the bare minimum. It was still difficult.

"She has me out in the dating world." (Reader) slumped a little, only slightly enough that no one but Donavon could tell the change in their posture. "Which is.. not fun."

"It can be fun. Does that carnival still come? There used to be a traveling carnival, a pop up fair, that would set up in a parking lot of a small store in our home town, really cheap. That could be a fun first date. Tiny ferris wheel and gravitron. Elephant ears." The two adults smiled widely thinking about it, but neither of them were picturing it as a date. His smile melted when he realized this. "I wish I could have taken you there."

(Reader) imagined a different life, one where they were in his care instead of their mother's, eating pastries the size of their head and getting sick on possibly dangerous attractions in a small parking lot. Their mother never took them, but they knew which pop up fair he was talking about, riding past it on the bus many times in their life. "That sounds like it would have been fun.."

".. but like I said, dating can be fun. As long as your being safe." (Reader's) dad's smile bounced back. "What have you done so far that hasn't been fun?"

"Well, I went out for dinner. Guy named Rich. He was, uh, decent. Talked a lot. Mostly about his job, and goals."

"Sounds career focused, that's good."

"Eh.." They shrugged, eyes drifting.

"What was wrong with him?"

(Reader) sighed. "Nothing. He was.. competent. Seemed like a regular guy. He just.. wasn't my type."

Guilt began to crawl through the folds of Donavon's brain like bugs infesting his conscious. He knew it was all his fault. Everything. But if he said that out loud, (Reader) would deny it, argue and fight it. "Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"There's also plenty of trash."

Donavon pointed a finger at his kid warningly. "There's also sunken treasure. Don't give up hope."

"I don't need someone to be happy.."

"That's true.. but something tells me that when you weren't actively dating around, you weren't being content with the single life, and that's why your therapist is having you go out there. That.. maybe you were still waiting around for something that you shouldn't have, instead of living life to the fullest while alone."

The two became uncomfortably silent. This happened nearly every month. "I just want someone who loves me."

Donavon swore he could cry at that moment. "I'm sorry for-"

"Don't apologize." (Reader) cut him off. "Don't apologize for being a great dad."

"I wasn't. I wasn't a great dad. I'm-"

"-don't-"

"-a monster, (Reader). Kiddo, please, just listen to me. I'm sorry for the things I've done. The way I went about.. I wasn't in my right mind.. what I put you through was not okay. It was not, and will never be okay." He leaned forward, wishing to break through the glass dividing them and hug his kid. "I'm so sorry."

(Reader) softly responded "You're the only person who ever loved me."

"And you deserve better than that."

'No', (Reader) thought, 'there is no better than that.'

"Let's change the subject, please." (Reader) closed their eyes, forcing away the tears. "We never have enough time, and I don't want to spend the entire day focusing on sad shit."

Donavon took a shaky breath. "Okay, kiddo.." he mulled over for a second what to talk about before cracking a smile, one wide enough to show off his missing canine. "Remember Eddy?"

"Your old bunk mate?"

"Yep."

"What about him?"

"He got stabbed."

The sentence was so short and sudden that it shocked (Reader) into snorting, bringing back their genuine smile. "What? When? What happened?"

From the door an older guard smiled sadly, away from view. Donavon was liked by nearly everyone, both by the guards and the other prisoners. It was always a shame, getting to know someone who was supposed to be an evil bastard, and learning that they were just a great man who needed help. Plenty of the older guards understood that (Reader) would forever look at them with disgust and mildly veiled hatred. Because Donavon was (Reader's) hero, and the guards were just wardens unjustly holding him captive.

Their conversation continued without pause, filling the empty room with sounds of parental love and warmth. The guard at the door loved being there whenever it was time for (Reader's) visit with their dad, because it really was an incredibly beautiful and emotional scene every time he was present, but he also hated being the one on duty whenever (Reader) came, because he had to be the villain to say "Time's up" when their four hours were over.

"Mx. (Reader). Donavon."

(Reader's) eyes drooped, darkening under the shadow of their eyelashes. "Already?"

"Unfortunately."

The guard had been there so long, he remembered when (Reader) was a child, and would cry and scream whenever it was time to leave, begging him to let their daddy out.

Donavon smiled comfortingly. "Thank you for visiting me, kiddo."

"Of course."

"Maybe in another decade they'll let me have physical contact visitation." Donavon chuckled, only half serious with his hopeful statement. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too. Don't forget to write."

"I never do."

They both stood up, hanging up their phones painfully. It was the worst time of the day. His chains shook around his wrists as he waved goodbye. He never hurt a single guard in his time incarcerated, but it was a formality, a requirement, due to the nature of his crime. It didn't seem to matter how good his behavior was. Even though the guards trusted him, according to the law Donovan was still to be treated as a monster.

After being guided back out of the room, through the halls, and out to the parking lot, (Reader) finally felt like they could breathe. The air that was stolen when the guard ended their visit with their dad was greedily sucked up outside the stifling building. They finally looked at their silent phone, seeing a dozen messages from Rich. Or, who's number (Reader) assumed was Rich, since they had deleted his contact as soon as they woke up that morning.

Most of the texts were pleas for a second date, or an explanation for what he did wrong. Some of them were insults.

(Reader) sighed, deleting the conversation and blocking his number before getting into their car, allowing tears to silently fall down their warm cheeks. All that they wished for was for someone to love them, and no one would ever love them like their dad did.

The drive back was just as miserable as it was every month.

And just like every month, the tears didn't stop until (Reader) pulled up to their apartment. It was a long day, where the good moments weren't long enough, and (Reader) was ready for another beer. It wasn't Sunday, but it was their Sunday, which meant that they couldn't stay up drinking all night.

But it felt as though they had just popped open their can when someone started pounding on their door, angrily and frantically. (Reader) cursed not being able to afford to live in an apartment that had a controlled door to the building, living in a cheap one that had the stairs on the outside of the building. Which meant that there were no security measures to prevent just anyone from coming straight to (Reader's) unit.

They set the alcohol to the side and made their way to the door. The banging only stopped when the person on the other side heard (Reader) unlocking the deadbolt. A slightly sweaty man with brown hair too short to be messy stood impatiently.

"Rich?"

The slightly younger man shrugged sharply, jutting his head to the side with an attitude as if to say 'No shit, who else?'

"Are you going to let me in?" He asked impatiently.

"Uh, no?" (Reader) furrowed their brow. "How'd you find where I live?" They were too confused to even be mad or scared.

"It wasn't difficult; literally everything is online." Rich responded as though (Reader) was a fucking idiot for even asking. The disrespect was shocking, a severe shift from how he acted during their date. He shifted abruptly as though he was going to charge (Reader), so they tightened their muscles, holding the door closer to their side, which earned an aggravated huff.

"What are you doing here, Rich?"

"Well, you owe me an explanation after you ghosted me after our date the other day." His tone made it sound so obvious.

(Reader) scoffed, almost amused. "No I fucking don't."

"I was the perfect gentleman on our date considering the circumstances, you and I had a good time, but then you ghosted me? And I just want to know why." The emphasis on the 'considering the circumstances' included a wave, motioning to (Reader's) body. (Reader) didn't know if he was insinuating that their body was a problem, or if it was their gender expression, or if he just had high fashion expectations that (Reader) didn't live up to, but the little hand movement finally ticked them off.

"Okay, you're done." (Reader) tried to close the door, but Rich was stronger than he looked, and effortlessly pushed them back into their apartment and entered. (Reader) didn't fall, only stumbled, wobbling to regain balance as Rich casually closed the door behind him, pacing his hands on his hips.

"So, what did I do wrong?"

"You mean before you broke into my home?"

"I did- don't be fucking dramatic, I did not break in. I just want to know, I just want to know what I did wrong."

(Reader) slowly backed up, mentally picturing the apartment behind them to figure out where their closest form of defense was. "Nothing. It just didn't work out-"

"BULL SHIT."

"-you weren't my type."

Rich stuck out his jaw, clicking his tongue. "That isn't a reason."

"Yes, it is-"

"That isn't a reason to be a fucking dick."

'How far behind me is my knife block?'

Before (Reader) could make a move their front door violently flew open again, slamming loudly into the wall. Both Rich and (Reader) whipped around at the jarring noise.

A man stood in the doorway.

His skin was so caked in dirt and muck that his yellowish skin was almost completely painted over. Long, black hair curled due to the oil, hanging down and sticking to his gaunt face. Between the shaggy locks black eyes glared unblinkingly.

"Who the fuck is that?!" Rich nearly hollered, retreating closer to (Reader) out of fear, unable to tear his eyes away from the modified weapon in the intruder's hand.

Warmth spread throughout (Reader's) entire body; the god of love releasing a cage of butterflies into their body.

"He's here to kill me."

Part 0

Eight year old (Reader) tugged on their oversized long sleeve shirt. It was rubbing against the bruises uncomfortably. Everything about their body felt uncomfortable lately.

Their mother was late again.

Mr. Haley sighed loudly for the umpteenth time, looking at his watch as though it was (Reader's) fault their mother hadn't picked them up yet. It was warm and humid, and the sleeves of (Reader's) shirt were sticking to their arms. Despite the heat, Mr. Haley wouldn't allow (Reader) to wait inside, instead standing at the entrance of the school under a tree. (Reader) was the last child at pickup, aside from the children outside on the field for after school sports.

"Is your mom working late again?"

(Reader) didn't answer, instead watching the man walking into the nearly empty parking lot who seemed to be staring at (Reader) and their teacher. They couldn't tell exactly from how far away he was, but he didn't get any closer, keeping to the entrance, partially hidden behind a sign.

"Do you have anyone else I can call? Grandparents?" His kind voice was strained, exhaustion melting his patience.

The man suddenly ducked away from view, and shortly after (Reader's) frazzled mother sped walked into the lot, storming closer to the building. (Reader) left to meet her half way in an attempt to calm her down, but their teacher followed.

"Good afternoon, Ms. (Name)-"

"(Reader), c'mon." As soon as (Reader's) mother was close enough she immediately spun on her heel to leave again, ignoring the teacher.

"Ms. (Name), this is the third time-"

"I know!" The woman snapped, stopping abruptly, causing (Reader) to bump into her side. "I'm sorry."

"-the third time this month."

"I said I know!" She whined, throwing up her hands. "I couldn't get out of work, it wasn't that long!"

"After school activities are almost over. It's been almost an hour-"

"Don't be a dick, okay, I'm twenty minutes late."

"School ended forty minutes ago."

She crossed her arms. "So not an hour."

"Almost an hour-"

"So not an hour."

Mr. Haley sighed in defeat. He tried again, however, he was interrupted by the woman grabbing (Reader) by the arm and dragging them out of the parking lot. Her nails dug into the scabs on (Reader's) arm.

She spat out curses towards the teacher as she dragged her kid down the road towards the bus stop.

"Fucking asshole- and I told you that I was working late!" She turned her frustrations on (Reader), squeezing their arm painfully before releasing them, making (Reader) lose their balance.

"I'm sorry, Mom.." (Reader) quietly apologized, already shrinking in on themselves, head hunching into their tiny shoulders.

"Jesus, stop flinching like that. You look like I beat you or something.."

It was true, she never hit (Reader).

She just grabbed them.

Grabbed them by the back of the shirt, the front of their collar, the arms, wrists, and all parents smack their kids on the back of their heads, that's not hitting. It wasn't her fault that (Reader) bruised so easily. She didn't even hit them.

The city bus pulled up to the stop.

"Kevin's coming over for date night, so when we get home, make sure to do all your homework in your room. I'll bring you dinner and some snacks, but the adults need some alone time, okay?"

"Okay?"

"Okay!" (Reader) loudly responded, wringing their shirt in frustration.

(Reader) liked their mom when they had popcorn nights, when they made a bowl of popcorn and sat down to watch a rented movie together. But most of the time? (Reader) hated their mother.

They hated the way she dismissed them. (Reader) never seemed to be a priority in the woman's life. It didn't even feel like she hated (Reader). (Reader) was just nothing. They didn't receive hugs when they were scared, didn't get kisses when they were sick. And it wasn't one of those cases where you can't remember a single good memory because you're mad; (Reader) couldn't recall a single time their mother ever said the words 'I love you' to them.

She said it to Kevin though.

When they arrived home, (Reader) immediately went to their room, closing the door and flopping onto their mattress on the floor. They didn't feel like doing their homework, and decided instead on a quick nap. It wasn't like their mother was going to check in on them and see how they were doing anyway.

Maybe their dreams would bring a nice family for them.

CRASH!

A loud smash of glass and something heavy falling onto the thin apartment floor woke (Reader) up. They didn't know how long they were out for, but the sun was still up. (Reader) nervously bolted off the mattress and onto their feet, teetering in the middle of the room.

There was a quiet choking sound that liquefied into a gurgle before silencing.

(Reader's) handle slowly turned and their door was softly opened. A terrified looking man drenched in blood stood in front of (Reader), gazing down at them with inhuman eyes. His eyes were wide, panicked, but glassy, red, and with pupils so enlarged that he reminded (Reader) of the ghost woman from a scary movie their mother had been watching. He tried to brush his black hair out of his eyes, never looking away from (Reader's). It was the most intense staring contest (Reader) had ever been in.

He was timid in his approach, crouching down to his knees as he got closer to (Reader).

"..Hi." His voice was shaky and breathy. The man seemed to be overcome with an emotion that (Reader) didn't recognize. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, yet he still didn't blink. He swallowed hard before continuing. "My name is Donavon."

(Reader) was in an odd trance, halfway between petrified and numb. "My name is (Reader)." They didn't know why they answered.

"I know." For the first time since entering, Donavon glanced away from (Reader), searching the room for something. There were no toys in (Reader's) room. "Are you a-" His face broke trying to find the words he needed for his question. "Are you a b-?" A- a-.."

"I'm a kid." (Reader) tugged on their uncomfortable long sleeve shirt.

Donavon smiled so wide that his face looked like it completely split in half. Tears ran down his face shamelessly. The pure joy startled (Reader). "You're a kid." He sniffed back his snot and wiped away some tears, still smiling so hard that his face was turning red and he looked like he was going to laugh. "You're my kid."

He pulled (Reader) into a hug.

It wasn't like the quick hug the school nurse gave them, or the hugs their friends at school gave them; it was desperate.

He squeezed them almost too tightly, his fingers digging painfully into their ribs as he breathed in their hair. But (Reader) didn't cry out or ask him to stop. Tears had begun to fall from their eyes as well.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I should have been here. I should have been here." He started rocking (Reader) as he apologized into their scalp. "I didn't know about you, but I do now, and I'm here now."

(Reader) felt him kiss the side of their head quickly before he went back to whispering.

"I didn't know. But I do now. I'm so sorry."

It was too much, and it made (Reader) cry. They sobbed loudly, wailing into his chest as they returned the hug.

"I love you, (Reader). I love you so much. I don't know you yet, but I still love you. I should have been here for you, but I am now. And I am never letting you go. Okay? No one is ever taking you away from me."

Police sirens approached, screaming outside the building. (Reader) felt Donavon quickly reach into his back pocket, but he never let go from their right embrace.

"I never knew your mom. When I saw you with her last year, I - I tried to get into contact, but, but.. No one would listen to me, I had no proof.. I.. got a DNA test.. I -I'm your dad! I'm a father!" He started rambling, trying to explain things to (Reader), but they couldn't understand anything he was saying. And it didn't matter to them. He said he loved them.

(Reader) heard heavy boot steps and an officer loudly announce his presence.

"No one is ever taking you away from me again."

He was still only hugging (Reader) with one arm.

Someone entered the room, and a really loud sound hurt (Reader's) ears.

An officer shot Donovan in the shoulder, causing the knife he was holding to clatter onto the floor. He fell, releasing (Reader). They saw the knife and quickly put two and two together. But something happened in (Reader's) underdeveloped brain. It didn't matter that they had just met him. That man the police just shot was their dad. And he loved them.

"No!" (Reader) tried to launch themselves at Donovan to protect him, but their tiny body was caught by an officer.

"Don't worry, I've got ya!" The man tried to console (Reader), easily subduing their thrashing limbs, but his soothing voice didn't ease the pain in their heart, nor did it dampen the volume of their shrieks.

"DADDY!!"

The cop carried (Reader) out past the bodies of their mother and Kevin. Both were mutilated, lying naked near the couch in a pool of blood and spilt vodka.

Donavon was sentenced to life without parole.

He testified in court that the only thing he regretted was almost hurting his child. (Reader's) mother had taken advantage of him at a party years ago. Donavon had passed out drunk in the master's bedroom and woken up with his pants and underwear around his ankles. He told the court he didn't remember anything that happened, so although he suspected that someone had assaulted him, he had no proof and records showed that the police refused to help him when he went to report it.

It was a one in a million chance that Donavon saw (Reader) and their mother grocery shopping over a year ago, and nearly had a heart attack seeing a little kid who had his father's ears. Ears are just as unique as fingerprints, and to see a little kid with badly cut hair looking like a mixture of his father's baby photos and the woman walking beside them gave Donavon a sense of confidence that was borderline disturbing. He told the jury that he approached the woman with the intent of making polite conversation about how much alike her kiddo looked like his late father, but knew immediately that (Reader) was his, because when their mother looked Donavon in the eyes she recognized him.

"Before I could even say 'Hi', she grabbed (Reader's) arm and said 'Stay away from my child, Donavon.' I didn't even remember her face."

On the witness stand, Donavon admitted to breaking into their home so he could get access to (Reader's) DNA, stealing their hair brush. He also admitted to stalking the family, watching them as (Reader) openly showed signs of abuse. He called CPS multiple times, but nothing ever came of it.

Donavon repeated how time and time again law enforcement failed to help him get custody of his 'alleged' child, and that he had "snapped".

"I told (Reader) that no one would take them away from me again. Please, please I know I was wrong." Donavon pleaded the jury, looking past the lawyers and staring with his horrifying, never ending gaze. "Please don't put me away forever. I can get better, with help! I needed help! But my baby, my kiddo, they deserve better, please don't separate us again!"

Despite going to a decent foster family and receiving regular therapy sessions with child services, (Reader) had learned what true love was. The smiles their foster family gave them felt fake. No one could hug (Reader) tight enough to press their way into (Reader's) heart. Love was tears streaming down from the black coal eyes of a desperate father who just killed his kiddo's abusers. That was heroic. That was good. Just.

(Reader's) foster parents smiled at each other all the time, and said I love you multiple times a day. Then they divorced. Love was (Reader's) daddy, ready to kill (Reader) so they never had to be apart again.

The therapist with child services watched with a broken heart as (Reader) refused her homemade cookies. "Have you made any friends at school?"

(Reader) shrugged. They didn't see much of a point in friends. "There are these two kids I eat lunch with." Two kids who wouldn't leave them alone, no matter how much (Reader) ignored them.

"That's good! What are their names?"

"Miranda and Brian."

"Are they good kids?"

"They're weird. Brian wears glasses that make his eyes look super big, and Miranda wears a fedora."

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret. The weird kids are usually more fun to hang out with than the normal kids!" She winked while smiling, but it didn't phase (Reader).

"When can I see my dad?"

The therapist leaned back, looking up at the ceiling to control her inner turmoil before shutting her eyes. "I'm working on that, but it's very difficult. Mr. McElroy is in a lot of trouble for what he did."

(Reader) looked down at the drawing they had been making of them playing outside with Donavon. "I wish he killed me."

Part II

Warren had run away from home, again.

His left eye was swollen shut, and blood speckled the front of his t-shirt. The ten year old hadn't even done anything yet, but his father had had a bad day at work, and been drinking for a couple of hours by the time Warren was dropped off by the Saturday babysitter.

He ran into the woods, blinded by his tears and the swelling.

Because of the crying and injury to his eye, Warren couldn't see very well, and kept running even when he emerged from the trees into a clearing; running into a very deep hole.

There was a pain as his ankle popped, crashing at the bottom into the mud. Everything hurt, so he allowed himself to scream and cry as loudly as he needed. No one was going to come for him anyway.

And so he stayed in the hole and watched as the sun went down and the world went black. Even though he knew his father wouldn't come looking for him, he still wished he would. He wished someone needed him as badly as he needed them.

There was no moon that night, leaving Warren completely blind after the purple sunset left the sky. With his unusually dilated pupils Warren typically preferred the dark over the sun, but without the moon there wasn't enough light for him to see.

'Maybe, I should just spend the night in here.' The sad thought made him sniffle, threatening to release the floodgates again.

"It's right over here!" A loud whisper followed by feet tripping over branches echoed through the trees. Warren held his breath, suddenly afraid of being discovered. It wasn't logical to be frightened, but he was. There were strangers in the woods, and he was in pain and blind and alone. His heart beat in his chest like a war drum as people drew near.

"How do you know where it is?"

The voices belonged to children, probably around Warren's age, but he didn't recognize any of them. Most of what they said was too quiet to hear, until they arrived at the clearing.

"Over here."

The strangers stopped near the hole, but too far away to see Warren covered in mud at the bottom. Lights were illuminating the air, and Warren figured that they must have had flashlights with them. His eyes finally had enough light to adjust to the pitch black, and he watched a letter flutter into the hole, followed shortly by another letter, gracefully drifting in.

Then a thick envelope was chucked in, hitting Warren in the head, who had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from accidentally making a startled sound.

"What did you wish for?" Someone asked.

With that question, Warren realized where he was.

He grabbed the letter that had hit him, quietly opening it up as two of the strangers above him bickered. In the faint light he saw a lot of words, too many to read before they left, so he quickly scanned the page out of curiosity. His breath hitched when he saw a drawing of himself.

Black eyes and shaggy black hair.

Warren put the papers back in the envelope and stuck it in his pants. Someone approached the edge, and Warren caught a glimpse of hair and eyes. They didn't see him, but he certainly saw them.

"What did you wish for, (Reader)?"

"Someone who loves me.."

And at that moment, Warren believed in the hole that grants wishes.

He had no proof that the child looking down at him was the same child who threw the wish practically into his lap, but he knew that it was. Like fate, or magic.

After the trio left, Warren pulled his sore little body out of the muck, repeating (Reader's) name to himself over and over again as to not forget it. He didn't know how, but he knew that (Reader) was the one who's wish he had stolen. Warren limped home, easily sneaking in past his father passed out on the couch and up the stairs to the bathroom, where he locked the door.

He quickly pulled out the letter, opening it up in the light to read the wish in full.

"I wish someone would love me." Warren read quietly out loud, sounding out each word as his finger followed the sentence.

"He has to be just like my dad. Be - cause my dad is the only person who loves me."

"He has to have black hair and black eyes.."

Warren looked at his dirty face in the mirror, ignoring the purple around his left eye and focusing on his natural features. A proud smile crept onto his lips.

He went back to reading. "And his eyes should be deep.." Warren's own eyes were also deep set, making it look like he had bags under his eyes even after a full night's sleep. His ears started to turn pink. The picture was of the kid he saw at the hole with a tall man with black hair and eyes and a little guy who looked the same. He pointed at each person. "That's (Reader).. that's (Reader's) daddy... And that's.." he looked at himself in the mirror, tearing up with how hard he was smiling.

Someone needed him.

He turned the page over and his smile instantly fell, his blood freezing.

Pictures of bloody bodies covered the pages.

Page after page of dead people with the most intense things Warren had ever read followed the seemingly innocent wish. He hadn't been exposed to video games yet, his father didn't let him watch TV, and Warren ignored the other kids at his school, so he had never known violence outside of the terrible things his father did to him. And the words he read in that envelope were violent.

"True love is keeping me."

"If he loves me, he'll kill me."

"Don't let them take me away again."

"Together forever."

(Reader) was worried about the limitations of the wishing hole, so they felt they had to be very specific about their ideal boy. Which meant that they had to explain what love was. And to explain what love was, meant that they had to explain to the hole what their dad had done to their mother and Kevin.

It scared Warren.

But only for a moment.

He thought about the joy (Reader) would feel when they saw him for the first time, how their eyes would light up with love and adoration. In his mind, they would recognize him instantly, like their drawing come to life. Warren was their wish come true. And, in a way, (Reader) was his.

He slowly went back to his bedroom and hid the letter in his underwear drawer. The wish was like his most prized possession. Knowing that there was someone out there who needed Warren made him, for the first time in a very long time, feel hopeful for the future.

The next few years of Warren's life, however, were not pleasant in the slightest.

An anatomy book flew at Warren's face, connecting with his thin nose. He was now in highschool, and the abuse had only worsened.

"What the fuck is this?!" His father threw another medical book, terrified. In the past he used to throw and break things even though Warren's only crime was existing, but now even Warren could understand his father's disgust.

A rat laid on Warren's table, split open.

"I'm practicing.." Warren smiled, blood dripping from his nostrils.

"I should kick you out of the goddamn house!" The drunk man kicked a wall, leaving a dent in the drywall.

"If you do that, I'll go to the police."

His father's eyes widened. "The fuck you just say, you little psychopath?!"

The man was very nimble for someone so swollen from years of alcohol consumption, closing the distance between himself and his son before Warren had a chance to put up his hands in defense. Large, yellowed fingers grabbed a fistful of Warren's greasy hair and lifted his dangerously underweight body off the ground; high enough where Warren couldn't touch the floor with his toes.

"Think about it. You have no proof for the cops that I killed this rat, but I have all the proof that you hit me." To emphasize his point, Warren didn't wipe away the blood that was now dripping onto the rat carcass.

Black eyes that held no light stared wide and unblinking at the disgusting excuse of a man before Warren. His father looked about the room, which was now covered in articles about some murderer from years ago and medical texts printed off at the local library.

Warren was dropped onto his ass. "Fucking freak." His father mumbled before stumbling out of the room.

It wasn't until Warren heard the drunkard smash though the hall towards the staircase that he finally grabbed some tissue to shove up his nose. It had taken him years and years of hard thinking, but Warren had finally found a way to be (Reader's) perfect husband. It was difficult, but the solution was finally discovered, a way to make (Reader's) wish come true without killing them.

He thought he would probably drop out of school, but that didn't really matter to Warren. The young man already had a part time job, and his future career as a manager for a small corner store was practically set.

Candid shots of (Reader) laid under the box of tissues. While (Reader) had continued growing into an attractive young adult, Warren was stunted. A lack of nutrition gave his unnaturally pale skin a yellow tint, and he was so thin that some of his teeth were becoming loose. But it felt as though he couldn't waste even a second thought on anything that wasn't (Reader).

"I'm sorry, Mr. Whiskers.." Warren apologized quietly to the dead rat. "I didn't mean to kill you. I'll do better next time."

Every time Warren saw (Reader) out and about, he wanted to drag them behind a dumpster and fuck them till they bled. It took incredible restraint to stick to his plan and keep to the shadows.

Their wish, laminated, hung above his bed like a prayer, one that he read and worshipped every night before bed.

Warren's father didn't notice when he stopped going to his classes.

He also didn't notice the muffled screaming from the basement, when Warren evolved his experiments from rats to people.

It wasn't until the smell became unbearable that he finally sobered up enough to go down and investigate.

As he searched the house for the cause of the smell, the aging, dying man briefly wondered when the last time he had been down in basement was. Or, when he last saw his good for nothing son.

The stairs to the lowest level creaked under his shoes, and an anxiety he had never before known trickled up through his bones.

At the bottom of the stairs, a door held back the stench like a leaking flood gate. Opening the squealing door wafted a wave of nausea inducing gas right into the man's face.

"Hey, ew what the- hey freak! You down here?! What's that smell..?" His eyes didn't have time to adjust to the dusty basement light before Warren swung a wooden baseball bat with spikes towards his father's face. One spike went through his skull near his nose and another popped open one of his eyes. But his death was due to the blunt force, cracking his head open as easily as smashing a watermelon. The junkie strapped and gagged to the table silently screamed as their one hope for salvation died in front of them.

"I'm sorry about the interruption." Warren smiled, his eyes still and unwavering. The man who had destroyed his childhood and stolen his happiness laid bleeding out on the floor, and Warren didn't feel a single thing. It was strange, part of him thought that he would feel satisfaction watching his abuser die, but he felt nothing at all. Warren only killed his father because he had interrupted his experiment with the homeless person who looked amazingly like (Reader). The young man held up a belt. "Let's continue."

Warren didn't consider himself to be a murderer. What he was doing to the people he abducted was for love. There was no evil or hatred, and if he looked at it in a certain light, he wasn't really trying to kill them at all.

Moving to the night shift gave Warren more time to stalk (Reader) during the day. Just as he had predicted, Warren became a higher member of management, and even 'owned his own home' now that his father had tragically passed. Everything was progressing perfectly, because his entire existence was a wish come true.

It hurt, hiding in the booth behind (Reader) and their friends, hearing about how they had started dating at the suggestion of their bitch therapist, but Warren decided that it was good for their relationship. It proved to him that even after all this time, (Reader) still loved him and needed him. Every time a date failed to live up to (Reader's) expectations it further fueled Warren's fantasy of how (Reader) would react when he finally revealed himself to them.

The dates also provided Warren ample opportunity to look around their apartment. Like when they went on a date with some whiny loser his age. He wasn't even (Reader's) type. Their home was small and quaint, and taking pictures of it in extreme detail helped Warren learn how to decorate the room (Reader) would be staying in once they finally started dating.

Dating.

The idea of merely "dating" caused a painful strain in Warren's chest, but he knew that it was only logical to date before he proposed. At least for a month or so. Maybe a week.

Well, whenever he did propose, Warren knew (Reader) would accept, because Warren was their wish come true. There was nothing he could do wrong, because his entire existence was due to (Reader's) will.

He didn't even bother cleaning off the dirt when he scuffed up the bedroom door. There was no point, because (Reader) wouldn't ever fear or hate anything he did, even if they didn't know he was the one responsible. Because that was fate.

(Reader's) undergarments rested on top of the dirty clothes basket.

Even that was fate.

Because why would they leave their worn underwear in plain view, if not for him? His hands with dirt crusted nails stroked the garment, imaging that he could still feel the heat of (Reader's) body on them. Warren imagined how happy (Reader) would be to learn what he did with their underwear, in their bed. He imagined their eyes glowing like an angel's as their smile graced his filthy presence.

Because this was (Reader's) wish.

And soon, Warren would finally give them their happily ever after.

Warren had put in for a week of vacation at his work; their shared bedroom was decorated; and his supplies were hidden in a backpack in the dirt behind (Reader's) complex. It was like a fairytale, when the knight came to save the dragon from the prince.

Rich approached (Reader's) front door as Warren dug up his hidden tools. Mud covered his face and gloves, but he didn't mind. In fact, it was like a mask, where only his true love would recognize him. Warren knew that his dream would come true that day, but it was even better than he had hoped for. Prince Rich was there to harass his dragon.

He had hoped it would be this easy, and the universe provided. Fate was always on Warren's side when it came to making (Reader's) wish come true. All those lives lost to Warren's experiments were not wasted.

The annoying voice of Rich was audible from outside the building, but it was difficult to feel anything negative towards to poor bastard. In Warren's mind, it wasn't Rich's fault that he was born to be such a loser; it was fate's design for the man to be sacrificed.

Warren threw open the front door, scaring the shit out of the stronger looking man. "Who the fuck is that?!"

Then, the sands of time were fused into glass by the electricity between Warren and (Reader). Their expression looked relieved, just as Warren had always hoped it would. A smile stretched across the beautiful lips Warren often fantasized about kissing. Their cheeks pulled up in the most honest grin Warren had ever seen.

Tears of joy decorated their bottom lashes like glitter.

"He's here to kill me."

Rich put up his arm as though to protect (Reader) from Warren. Again, Warren felt no anger towards the man and his silly reaction.

The bat used to kill Warren's father restarted time as it aimed for Rich's skull.

(Reader) looked up endearingly at Warren, now sitting on their knees in a pool of Rich's blood. The man before them was everything they had ever dreamt of. His black eyes never left (Reader's), even as he bludgeoned their date to death.

It took all of (Reader's) will power to not shake in their seat. Excitement flowed through their veins so quickly that it sent involuntary quivers through their muscles. Everything that they had ever wanted was finally coming true.

"I've been waiting for you." (Reader) felt their chest tighten as Warren approached.

But then he dropped his bat.

Their smile twitched a little, but (Reader) tried to not let anxiety ruin their happiest moment. The dirty man slid a backpack off and started rifling through it.

"I've been waiting for you too.." A voice that sounded oddly chipper finally responded, echoing from a wide grin that showed off yellowing teeth with a few missing on the bottom row.

(Reader) smiled harder. "You're going to kill me?" It was phrased like a question, but it was more of a plea.

"No."

"What?"

(Reader's) smile cracked in half. The adrenaline in their system turned deadly.

Warren's smile didn't fade.

"But, you have to." (Reader) began to panic. This had to be the man they wished to life. He had to be there to kill them. It was fate. He had to! "Aren't you here for me?"

"Of course I am."

"Then you have to kill me! If you love me, you have to-!"

Warren dropped his bag, revealing a hacksaw. He held it relaxed in one hand, and held a belt in the other. "Do you know how selfish you are, (Reader)?"

(Reader's) mind went numb with confusion.

"I've loved you for so long, and now that I finally have you, you think I'm going to kill you?"

"I'm not going to let anyone have you."

"Not even death."

The End

The two story house was full of trash bags. Every room in the building was full of clutter and filth, except the master bedroom.

Warren came home from a long shift, excited to have his precious spouse in his arms.

None of the guards at the prison would listen to Donavon when he tried to convince them all that something was wrong. A child suddenly not visiting their murderer of a parent in prison was not reason to go to the police and open a missing person's case. Even the officers that liked Donavon couldn't do anything.

The bedroom decorated to (Reader's) taste was unlocked by Warren as he finally climbed through all the shit. He entered their shared home with a warm expression of pure love on his face.

"(Reader), I'm home!"

In the middle of the room watching television was a wheelchair bound (Reader). Their arms and legs amputated, sitting helplessly in a soiled diaper. A drugged up, lopsided smiled sleepily tugged the corners of their mouth up.

"Welcome home, baby.."

A/N: Sorry it took so long, happy to start writing again ❤️

[mrfoox]

Unfortunately... I match tones and themes with people without realizing and understanding.

You're flirty with me? OK I'm doing it back... (and then I'm suprised when things escalate)

[twst-hottest-takes]

How about Overblot *design* ranking now?

*Gasps!* Well, since you asked. . .

RANKING TWISTED WONDERLAND'S OVERBLOT CHARACTER DESIGNS BASED ON MY PERSONAL TASTES!

WARNING: As the title suggests this is completely subjective and there's no real criteria across the board. You will see my biases shine through almost immediately and as such, no one is required to agree with this ranking.

MOVING FORWARD GOING FROM "WORST" TO "BEST"

7. AZUL--While really fun in concept and a novelty when you first see it, the "WOW" factor of this one completely disappears when it turns out that this is just Azul's normal mer-form with a few extra barnacles glued onto it. It doesn't emulate Ursula any more than his standard mer-form and it's just disappointing. (If the circumstance were different he'd be at least three spots higher.)

6. JAMIL--I love the design of his head--snake hair for the win! The rest is trash. After that there are too many layers though. This just isn't a good look for Jamil with the various degrees of coverage on the upper body and arms, and none of it reads as Jafar from the shoulders down. It's definitely a dress as opposed to a robe, and it's not one he can pull off. They should have given him an inky snake body to go along with his name instead of whatever disaster they decided on for his main outfit. It would have contrasted well with the genie Phantom behind him. The gold on the top half ov his body and the legs as a whole are atrocious and overall the design is barely coherent. It's only not lower than Azul because I'll take a disaster design over a lazy one any day. Visually, my least favorite of the bunch. (Sad because Jamil's Phantom is one of my favorites.)

5. VIL--We could go for the Evil Queen from Snow White, or we could just do Mother Miranda from Resident Evil 8. Only above Jamil because how busy and ugly it is reflects on Vil's character. Like what the actual hellsing is going on here? It's gaudy, and the halo is WAY TOO MUCH. In its defense, it's supposed to be because "trying too hard" is the name of the game. In that sense this design accomplishes what it sets out to do, it's just awful to look at, and is again lacking in "Evil Queen" elements. The spikes at the waist actively make me say "Eeewwwwww."

4. MALLEUS--Wish I could place him higher because I actually really like the design but I don't think it incorporates the green well enough. The look harkens back to Maleficent very well, but the need to make things in TWST more complicated than their original inspiration leaves a lot to be desired. A lot of the cool details are lost in all the black accessories, and even though I think the green on the horns and tail is pretty nifty, it just doesn't do justice to the design. I do like what it does for Malleus as one of the first looks at the scales on his forehead but Yana seems to have a thing for this "barely covered chest and corset" look because it bears a lot of resemblance to Vil and as such loses more points.

3. RIDDLE--A bold move by me because I just really like the color scheme. Playing card/casino aesthetic is one of my weaknesses so my bias begins to really show through here. Under enough scrutiny it reads well enough as the Queen of Hearts and overall I think even someone unfamiliar with Twisted Wonderland would be able to establish at least a connection to Alice in Wonderland at a glance. It's a great modification/corruption of his existing Housewarden uniform and overall I think it should have been used to set more of a standard for how the Overblot designs should have stayed.

2. LEONA--THEY MADE HIM LOOK MORE LIKE A LION! WIN! WIN! WIN! *Clears throat* So, yeah, they couldn't really turn Leona into Scar without dabbling into furry territory, but I really like what they came up with. The black ruff to look like a mane, the necklace looks like fangs, and I think Leona should have sharp nails all the time in all honesty. I maintain that Leona will always look best with an eyepatch and the marking on his face resembles one greatly. The only bit I have an issue with is whatever legging armor thing he's got going on. It blends in with that piece on his body and kind of gives off the impression of it being a jumpsuit from the chest down which is very strange to me--that piece on his torso is just strange to me as well. The wild hair is great and this one follows well in Riddle's footsteps in maintaining a lot of the elements of Leona's dorm uniform while also being "corrupted." (Also, no, him being barefoot is not weird.)

1. IDIA--Technopunk Hades. 10/10 No notes. It's just literally Disney Hades in a different fictional genre. I love it. Looks really cool, I don't care how impractical it is in reality. Just the right amount of detail and keeps up with the established Ignihyde look. Extra points for the chibi model having a connecting point between him and Phantom Ortho. Wish the rest of them were this on point, because Idia is slaying here. I 100% believe he designed this one himself. Great job, my guy.

And there you have it. My personal opinion on how the main Overblot designs stack up against each other. Yes, Grim has been left out because he's a bit of a different case and honestly I just didn't want to put him in here (though he's got a pretty good design all things considered). Don't agree? That's fine, I was asked to give my two cents and here they are. I can only hope that my logic in these pretty short summaries shines through to some extent.

Thank you for asking.

[whyse7vn]

FUCK MARRY KILL -

[ot7 x reader]

GOLDEN OUT SOON

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jin: just googled what champagne confetti means and wtf????

jimin: the fact that you had to google that 💀

namjoon: it’s been how long since the song came out?

y/n: wow jin ur really old as hell

💀💀💀💀💀

jin: IM NOT

hobi: bro had to google champagne confetti 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

jin: A LOT of people don’t know what that means

tae: a lot of old people 💀💀💀

jin: can you stop with the skulls

jimin: 💀💀💀💀

jin: i bet jungkook doesn’t even know what that means

jk: i do

why would i say it if i didn’t know it stupid

hobi: jungkook just called u stupid 💀

jin: bye

y/n: i’m turning evil

hobi: yesss feminism 💞💞

jin: how?

y/n: i just am

stay out of women’s business

jk: no guys it’s true she didn’t make me breakfast today 😰😰😰😰😰

yoongi: are you 5? why does she make u breakfast

jk: love

you wouldn’t get it

tae: i love an evil woman

they get me going

if you know what i mean

wink wink

y/n tell them what me you and namjoon did yesterday lol

namjoon: shut up

y/n: if you keep talking i’m going to block

you

tae: baby 💔

she doesn’t mean that guys

jimin: what did you guys do?

y/n: nothing important

hobi: i’ve decided that enhypen are my biggest enemies in life

I HATE THEM

jk: i love jikjin ❤️

namjoon: that was treasure

jk: no

namjoon: ok

jimin: what did enhypen do to you

hobi: exist

i’m not fucking with them

the vibes are off

and there are too many australians

y/n: isn’t it jake the only australian one?

yoongi: why do you know his name

y/n: because i’m nice and remember people’s names

hobi: i’ll literally kill jake like wdym oh naur??? like only i can say that

fucking bitch

UGH

i hate him

jimin: wow ok

namjoon: hoseok be the bigger person here they are kids

hobi: i’m skinny

bigger person?? absolutely not!

jimin: he kinda real for that idk

y/n: LMAO

jin: i’m saying fuck enhypen AND newjeans

hobi: literally

y/n: haters

jimin: NO FUCK NEWJEANS FOR REAL HAD ME DANCING TO ETA

LIKE I’M A MAN

jin: ha

jimin: what’s funny?

jin: 😚

jimin: i literally agreed with you idk why ur trying to fight me rn

jin: i didn’t even say anything

jimin: you didn’t have to

namjoon: ok both of you stop

jk: what if i was a giant meatball

yoongi: that’s nasty

tae: no cuz i get it

are you the meatball or is the meatball you

if you know what i mean

jk: i know

tae: no bro

we know

yoongi: ur sick

both of you are extremely sick

hobi: wish enhypen was sick

with the plague or something

y/n: that’s not nice :(

hobi: i would say i’m sorry

but i’m not

and i don’t lie

i just don’t

jk: guys can we cook rocks

y/n: no

jk: why not

y/n: they are rocks

jk: ok but have you tried

y/n: shut up

jk: yes

hobi: i could so play alexander hamilton

jimin: isn’t that the guy who drives the fast car?

jk: the fast and furious man?

tae: vin diesel????

yoongi: lewis hamilton you fucking idiots

hobi: i’m talking about the founding father

jk: what did ur father find???

namjoon: isn’t that an american thing?

jimin: finding fathers?

y/n: i can find mine

jin: so can i

and last time i’m checked i’m not american

tae: does america think koreans are fatherless?

yoongi: you act like u are don’t blame them tbh

hobi: no guys don’t you know the musical??

jin: about fatherless koreans?

jk: or the car man?

i thought that was a normal movie

did i miss the singing part???

y/n: omg didn’t jimin do a song for fast and furious??

jimin: OMG I DID

namjoon: wait i’m confused

hobi: lin-manuel miranda???

tae: wtf is that

jin: a sauce?

y/n: is that not the lip bite guy

hobi: YES

yoongi: give up hoseok

hobi: i have faith in them

yoongi: don’t

hobi: ur right…

jimin: anyways

tae: thinking hard rn

namjoon: i’m impressed

tae: thank you its the first time i’ve ever done this

i’m fucking with it lowkey

yoongi: go away

tae: can someone ask me what i’m thinking about

jimin: no

tae: since you asked i’ve got a really important question

jk: i’ll answer

tae: no you won’t

hobi: y/n do you want cookies?

y/n: PLEASE

jin: can i have some

hobi: no

jin: :/

tae: y/n

y/n: what

jk: 😍

tae: fuck marry kill

like out of us

rn

this shouldn’t be hard

y/n: ur right it’s not

fuck jin marry hobi kill jimin

tae: just fell to my knees

jimin: kinkyyyy

hobi: 🥺

jin: real!!!!!!!

jk: wait what

yoongi: lol

tae: clutching my chest

namjoon: would you all get a grip

tae: i have a grip on my heart

i’m having a heart attack

ohmygod

it’s fading to black

help me

beep beep beeeeeeeeeeeppp

(i’m dead)

yoongi: thank god

jk: y/n you can kill me yk?

won’t even be mad i swear

like fr

as long as ur thinking of me ha

idm!!!

y/n: but i picked jimin to kill

jk: oh lmao yeah!

you picked jimin

silly me lol

yeah

ur right lol

ha

jimin

yeah

jin: you wanna fuck rn lol?

yoongi: shut up

jin: ur mad

yoongi: i’m not

it’s just a stupid game 😂

jin: EWWW YOONGI JUST USED “😂”

i could throw up

someone kick him

jimin: when you kill me can you do it by strangling me

i feel like that would be the best way to go

namjoon: gross?

hobi: i think we should have a spring wedding that would be SAURRRR cute

y/n: NAURRRR ur so right

jk: ha ha

hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

jimin: wow he’s insane

jk: i could die better than you

i would die instantly

i wouldn’t fight back

i wouldn’t struggle

i would just die

jimin: the struggling is the best part

namjoon: stop

yoongi: fucking freaks

tae: she’s in love with me i know it

y/n: did you not just have a heart attack?

tae: can you kiss me like yesterday

y/n: absolutely not!

tae: wow u want me so fucking bad

jin: yesterday?

jimin: let’s a have threesome

hobi: bro can’t count

jimin: no

i just don’t vibe with jin fr

jin: ur such a hater it’s crazy this is why she’s killing you

and fucking ME

jk: LOL

LOOOOOOOOOOLLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLLLLLLLLLLL

y/n: guys can we talk about rn gojo pls I’m feeling sentimental

namjoon: who is that?

y/n: sighs looks out window

yoongi: don’t let her start

y/n: gojo was a hero to many a enemy to some a teacher to a few but to me

to me gojo was everything

jin: already don’t care can you come over lol

y/n: you want an in person gojo explanation???

jin: if that is what people are calling head now absolutely!!!!!!!!!!!!

y/n: jin i could cry

i’ll be there 😭🙏🏽

tae: me and joon are here

well like more me than joon but he can come if you want

i’m here babe

pls

don’t go to jin

jimin: wtf are you talking about 💀

jk: she didn’t even kill me guys

wow

like

wow

she didn’t even kill me….

hobi: she married me

jimin: ur clearly not on her mind bro

jk: no ur right

why would i even be on her mind anyways

i’m just a stupid idiot that no one loves

or wants to kill

y/n: get a grip

jk: grip gotten

yoongi: ur all dumb as hell

y/n: don’t be mad i didn’t pick you

yoongi: i’m not

jimin: iM nOt

yoongi: she literally killed you stfu

jimin: so?? at least i was on her mind

jk: WHY DIDNT YOU PICK ME OHMYGODDDDDIDJDJJDJJz nxbsjsh

tae: ok but be fr did you forget how to spell my name y/n be honest

tae: my name is tae

y/n: i know!

jk: i thought it was taehyung?

tae: CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RN WE HAVE BIGGER ISSUES

jk: i’m sorry ur right

no one loves me

hit me in the head with a shovel

tae: ok LOOOOLLL but out of the remaining people who would you fuck?

y/n: joonie 🙏🏽

yoongi: u think ur so funny

y/n: ?

sorry for speaking my truth

jin: literally

tae: NAMJOON FR????

AFTER ALL I DID

and you pick the man that basically sat behind you the whole time

jin: wait

namjoon: taehyung

tae: WHATEVER

jin: waittttttttttttttttttttt

y/n: let’s not wait actually

jk: y/n are you sure you don’t want to kill me

jimin: shut the hell up

tae: AHHHHHHHZHSHSHSUDUDH

UGHHHHSYSZHSSBDBDN

YOU WANT ME

i hate life

you want me so bad

i know it

FUCK YOU

tae left “GOLDEN OUT SOON”

yoongi: wtf

jimin: wow

hobi: didn’t know it was that srs

jin: i have a theory

namjoon: you don’t

jin: no i definitely do

y/n: shut the fuck up

jin: wow u guys are nasty

yoongi: ????

jk: y/n did you change ur mind?

jimin kicked jk from “ GOLDEN OUT SOON”

—

tags: @piw6n @jvmisvu @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @yojaschill @k4ngelz @junghoseokshusband

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Had this funny and uncannily real Miitopia interaction which would 100% happen if these characters came to meet, I think. So I drew it out! Featuring Miranda Vanderbilt of Monster Prom fame and Karleeen of... fishyfishyfishtimes fame? This time she needs no introduction as the joke is pretty obvious lmao

It would no doubt be left entirely ambiguous whether or not Miranda intends this to be a threat. On one hand, she’s been raised and conditioned to see torture and harm of those lower than oneself as wholly normal, not to mention she’s a fish out of water in a foreign culture and to her this could simply gifting someone with something that reminds her of them (creepy amount of pins aside). On the other hand, Miranda can be oblivious but she’s not stupid. She's executed blackmail plans before. So… well! Fortunately Karleeen was going to be her friend anyway…