#none of these fuckers can communicate

[the-lonely-human]

I love Sonic games cause nobody has any clue wtf is happening half the time.

They are all just doing their own thing when they all randomly meet up, each knowing about 2% of the plot, and then the worlds ending and Eggman is up to his shit again, time to beat him with the power of friendship woohoo!

[rusanya-does-edits]

Something weirdly specific for at least some of us, that we've had in mind for awhile; unfortunately this was the closest we could get with a picrew tbh.

× × × || × × × || × × ×

Like, fortunately for us; while we have some things that irk us with this one, but this hits pretty close in a metaphorical sense at least for the people we're thinking of. Unfortunately for us, some of those are more obvious than others so we hesitated on weather we needed to share this or not LOL.

[pcr-alice]

DPxDC - Missing Persons

also on AO3

It started so quietly no one really noticed.

People were disappearing. A veteran from the mountains, a firefighter from the city, a surfer from the coast, and on and on. All gone without a trace. The local authorities investigated, of course, but they never found any leads. After some time, the people were simply written off as missing, and their communities moved on. They remained forgotten until the Justice League got involved. Their systems flagged the uptick in disappearances, and once a Bat took a look, they were immediately suspicious. It took another Bat before the link was finally found. And it took Red Hood disappearing to confirm it. The missing people all had previous close calls with death. And so the League followed protocol – they announced an investigation.

The disappearances stopped.

It was a relief at first. There were far too many people who fit the profile, and none of their analysis could discern a usable pattern from the previous disappearances. But as time stretched on, they got nervous. Surely whatever this was wouldn’t just stop once noticed? What was going to happen next, and when? Justice League Dark got involved. Only once John Constantine started poking around did they find a lead, and even then only thanks to dumb luck.

When Constantine was finally dragged to the town where one of the early disappearances occurred, he zeroed in on an old woman living in a care home. As it turned out, she was mildly magically sensitive. Apparently her grandmother was a witch or something of that sort. But crucially, she had suffered a nearly fatal heart attack almost a decade ago. And she was all too happy to talk about the ‘nice young man’ from her dream who offered to take her away.

She granted Constantine permission to dive into her memory to learn more. Whatever he learned did not make him happy. He said he’d be back after a quick trip to Hell and disappeared, much to Batman’s irritation. But true to his word, surprising some, he returned with slightly singed clothes and a book.

So here he was, chalking sigils onto the floor. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern watched him work in silence, likely trying to wrap their minds around the fact that there was a so-called Ghost King who they were about to request an audience with. Constantine finished up his work and stood at what they all assumed was the front of the circle he had just drawn.

“I do all the talking, yeah? These ones can be tricky.”

Without waiting for a response, he waved his hand, magic glowing at his palm. The circle responded in kind, pulsing white then fading into a harsh, vibrant green. A large black, green, and red elaborately-decorated sarcophagus rose inside the circle, appearing to phase straight through the floor.

“Dramatic fuckers, eh?” Constantine muttered.

A thick fog billowed out alongside it, quickly surging out past the boundary of the circle. It spread upward, threatening to fill the entire room. Constantine cursed to himself and waved an arm, clearing out the fog around them even as it thickened throughout the rest of the room, obscuring the view of the ceiling and walls save for the door directly behind them.

A deep voice echoed through the room with no discernible source. Everyone tensed.

“Who would dare wake the sleeping tyrant?”

A pair of bright green slits appeared from the depths of the fog and widened into eyes.

“Eugh, it’s you.”

The voice lost its echo. It sounded annoyed but entirely human and...young? That didn’t stop Constantine from clenching a hand into a fist, charging magic and preparing for an attack. The eyes moved closer, revealing a pale face and snow-white hair that floated in an unfelt breeze.

“Peace, Hellblazer.”

A lanky figure stepped forward onto the sarcophagus from where they were floating. They wore all black save for their white gloves, white boots, and previously visible head. With an audible thunk they plopped down on the foot of the sarcophagus, one leg bent upward to rest their chin on and wrap their arms around.

“I mean you no harm.”

There was a pause as the others waited to see how Constantine would respond.

“We met?”

“No, but I know of you. And I must admit, I’m disappointed to see you working with the likes of them.”

They gestured to the others in the room.

“Yeah, well,” Constantine relaxed his fist but lost none of his tension, “Don’t meet your heroes.”

The stranger scoffed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just enjoy seeing demons annoyed.”

There was another tense pause as the stranger lazily looked over all those present. Constantine broke the silence again.

“Who might you be, then?”

The stranger slowly dragged their gaze away from Wonder Woman and back to the magician. After a pause they spoke.

“You may call me Ambassador.”

“Ambassador to ghosts?”

“If you’d like to think of it that way.”

Constantine straightened his posture.

“We would like to formally request an audience with His Majesty The King to discuss what we suspect is ghost activity in our world.”

The ambassador stared back in silence with squinted eyes before sighing and thumping their forehead to their knee.

“Where to even begin…” they whispered to themselves.

“Okay, let’s start with this.” They slapped the side of the sarcophagus and looked up. “What part of ‘sleeping tyrant’ wasn’t clear?”

“I was under the impression His Majesty was recently crowned and well-respected?”

The ambassador pinched the bridge of their nose and groaned.

“Ancients...”

They hopped to the ground without warning, causing everyone to flinch into defensive stances. If the ambassador noticed, they gave no indication.

“The king is a tyrant, he is trapped in forever sleep again, and I’d like to keep it that way this time.”

Constantine opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted before he got a chance.

“Speaking of which, how’d you even summon him?”

“Summon?” Constantine choked out, clearly surprised.

The ambassador walked toward Constantine, making everyone save for him slide backwards a step. They looked down at the chalk marks on the floor.

“Ancients, this is archaic. Where’d you find it?”

After a few seconds of silence, the ambassador looked up at Constantine.

“Well?”

“Ah...Merlin.”

The ambassador raised an eyebrow.

“What? It’s bloody true!”

The ambassador huffed out a laugh and walked back to lean against the sarcophagus and cross their arms.

“Can’t fault his demonology, but this circle is Bad. I suggest you lose it.”

Constantine opened his mouth to speak, but was once again interrupted, this time from an unfamiliar voice echoing through the room.

“Lord Phantom.”

Everyone flinched as a set of black armor coated in purple flames stepped into view from the fog.

“’Sup Frighty?”

“The dark one is marked.”

The ambassador flicked their eyes to Batman and stared for several tense seconds.

“So he is. Just like the other one, but actually concealed. Must be barely contaminated.”

The ambassador squinted and tilted their head.

“Sure enough. It’s weak, but there’s a family bond there.”

Batman clenched his fist.

“Where is Red Hood?”

The ambassador straightened their head, unflinching and unblinking.

“Safe. And being cared for.”

Before Batman could respond, yet another voice echoed from the fog.

“These are the ones?”

The ambassador turned their back to Batman and groaned.

“Is anyone not coming?”

A giant, four-armed, blue-skinned, armor-clad woman stepped out of the fog with two sets of crossed arms. She had the smallest smirk on her face.

“Apologies. I wished to see those who would obstruct our evacuation.”

Superman and Green Lantern perked up and shared a short look of confusion. The woman turned her head to Wonder Woman, her smirk replaced with a grimace.

“I am disappointed to see one of my kin among them.”

“I thought she might be, but I wasn’t sure.”

Wonder Woman stepped forward.

“My Lady, I –”

“You were not asked to speak, Child.” The woman snapped.

Her voice shook the floor underneath them. Wonder Woman flinched and stared up at her with wide eyes. The heroes tensed for a fight. But to their shock, Wonder Woman slowly raised her arm to press a fist over her heart and bowed her head in deference.

“I will make my displeasure known,” the woman growled, voice still angry but no longer violently.

“Take Dora with you.”

“Do you think me unable to fend for myself, Little One?” Her mouth curved up into a fond smirk again.

“I know better than to doubt you,” they briefly smirked back, “but given my limited experience, I don’t hold them in high regard.”

After a pause they tacked on a “no offense”.

“None taken.”

The woman stepped backwards and faded into the fog. Superman took a step forward, eyeing the armor cautiously.

“Ambassador, my apologies for our unpleasant first meeting.”

He waited until the ambassador gave him a slight nod.

“May I inquire what your companion meant by ‘evacuation’?”

“Exactly what she said. Our kind are being hunted, and we are trying to save them.”

“In that case I must apologize again. We were not aware of this unfortunate situation. Had we been provided an explanation, we would –”

“Typical,” the ambassador scoffed, “your primary patron government is committing a genocide, and yet we’re at fault for not properly informing you.”

Superman was smart enough to bite back his standard “we’re independent” retort. Green Lantern stepped forward instead.

“If I may, Ambassador, my name is Hal Jordan. I am a member of the Green Lantern Corps. We are a wholly independent organization dedicated to peacekeeping across the galaxy.”

The ambassador looked him up and down slowly before turning their head away dismissively.

“I don’t talk to cops.”

The heroes were stunned to silence. The ambassador turned to the floating armor.

“Prepare the Keep. I’ll ward against this circle once the sarcophagus is back in its place.”

“My Lord.”

The armor bowed its head then faded into the fog. Batman stepped forward.

“We have no involvement in the violence against you or your kind.”

The ambassador turned to stare at Batman for several seconds, squinted eyes glowing brightly.

“You’re an excellent liar, Batman.” The fog crept forward and wrapped around their legs. “Unfortunately, I know you’re full of shit.”

“What points you to that conclusion?” Batman kept his voice neutral and steady.

The fog had risen to the ambassador’s chest. They scoffed.

“There are photos of you with Amanda Waller.”

Batman’s fist clenched harder.

The ambassador turned to look at Constantine as the fog enveloped them, leaving two glowing green spots.

“I suggest you not push this any further, Laughing Magician. There are some things in this universe that trump even your luck.”

The glowing green eyes closed, and the fog faded away, leaving an empty summoning circle and untouched room. After several seconds of silence, Wonder Woman finally raised her head and spoke.

“I must return to Themyscira, perhaps for some time. If that was who I believe it to be...something has gone very wrong.”

Superman glanced over the others, who were all still silently processing the encounter. He turned back to Wonder Woman to give her a nod, and she quickly walked out of the room.

Constantine reached into his coat and pulled out his flask. He unscrewed the cap with a heavy sigh and downed whatever was left. He looked tired and annoyed, same as he always did. But Batman could tell he was shaken.

He looked away from Constantine and back to the empty circle again. There was a lot of concerning information to process, but one key thing did slip through. The knight had called the stranger ‘Phantom’. He had come across that name once before. One of three legible words on a burnt piece of paper in an abandoned and destroyed facility. A facility that stank of a classified government cover-up. A facility Waller had sworn up and down she knew nothing about. But he had a lead. The other two words. Amity Park. A small town that only existed if you looked at paper maps printed several years ago.

He had to act quickly.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (4 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal, emotional, and physical injury canon-typical swearing, protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You might not be his anymore, but Ghost doesn't believe so. When you reach out to him, Ghost makes every excuse to come over, knowing that he can get you back if you just realize that you've always only been his.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Simon stands in the middle of your living room.

He is blood-drenched. Lead-hungry.

Full of venom. Full of fury.

His gaze sweeps over the busted television, the broken bookshelves, and the massive hole in the wall. There are bent picture frames empty of their glass. The photos within are either missing or partially torn. Whiskey stains the wall, running down from the impact point in little ribbons of amber.

Simon’s hands curl into fists.

This is so much fucking worse than what he originally thought. The living room doesn’t even scratch the surface. The kitchen is completely trashed, so is your bedroom where your boyfriend decided to shred up your clothes in anger.

Your… “boyfriend.”

That fucker should be grateful he isn’t here to face Simon. If he were, Simon would make him suffer. Make the prick eat his teeth.

On the phone, you were delirious, each word running together anger, frustration, and a fear that Simon felt in his gut. It sat heavy in his ears. That was enough for Simon to forget all responsibility and come to you.

Otherwise, Simon would not have come. You are not his woman anymore. That obligation to comfort doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to your boyfriend, but he’s the cause of all this suffering.

Why should you seek that bastard out?

No. Simon is glad you called him even though the circumstances turn his stomach and fill his veins with sludge.

He turns around and finds you lingering nearby. Your eyes are red with irritation, and your cheeks are puffy. Simon longs to pull you into his arms, yet hesitates only because you might push him away.

Simon unclenches his hands, flexing his fingers. “You’re breaking up with him.”

He’s not going to step around or sugar-coat this. Simon has always been blunt with his words, and this will be no different.

Your back straightens, hands clasped in front of you, fingers curled around the neckline of your sweater. “Simon—”

“It’s not a suggestion.” Simon lifts his arm, indicating the disaster of an apartment. “This is who he is. This will happen again.” He drops his arm.

Your chest expands. Deflates. “But—”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

Simon strides forward but you do not retreat. You stand tall, staring up into Simon’s face. Though your cheeks are stained with your tears, you’re beautiful.

“Next time it won’t be the wall or your television. It will be you he hurts.” Simon shakes his head. “And I won’t allow that.” You open your mouth as if to interrupt but Simon is having none of that. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

“No. You won’t.”

“I will,” he growls. “I’ve never lied to you. Think I’m lying about this?”

Simon watches your throat bob as you swallow. He knows you understand. Fucking hell, he might be distant at times, even cold or blunt, but he never lies to you. Simon has always told you exactly what’s on his mind. Sometimes it has been to his detriment.

It is one of the reasons the two of you broke up. Simon didn’t want to end things. He respected your wishes, but even upon leaving, Simon still considered you his. The issue was with him and how he communicated with you about things. Emotionally, he was fucking distant. Not all the time, but enough that it seemed like he didn’t care.

That’s far from the truth, but Simon didn’t see any of it until you put it all out in front of him and decided to leave. Only then did he realize, and he did fucking everything to work on himself.

Fresh tears develop in the undersides of your eyelids. That’s it for him. It’s over.

Simon moves in, clasping the sides of your face with both hands. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

You don’t nod or even make a sound.

It’s not enough. Simon needs confirmation.

“He will escalate. He will get worse. You will be a target. Tell me you understand.”

There is a sniffle before you speak. “I know,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Simon sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You’re warm. A beacon of light in the disaster of a room. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. He inhales and his lung fill with you.

With a final squeeze, Simon places a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls back, but just enough to look at you. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help.”

Simon shakes his head. “No. Sit. I want to do this for you.”

Your brow softens, arms falling away from him as you step back and glide to the sofa.

Simon tackles the bedroom first, shoving all your damaged clothes into trash bags. He organizes everything, making sure nothing is out of place, that it appears as it did before your boyfriend trashed it all. When he’s done, Simon returns to you, putting you to bed.

“Don’t leave,” you murmur, and Simon doesn’t. He curls up next to you, holds you until your breathing becomes shallow and slow.

Only then does Simon unfurl himself, slipping away. He doesn’t leave the flat. He shuts the bedroom door and gets to work, picking up the shattered glass, sending the television to the large rubbish bin. He orders you a new one and schedules it for delivery. He sweeps the floor and returns everything to your kitchen cabinets. Anything that is torn or broken gets trashed. Simon works through your clothes last. Sitting on the living room floor, Simon shifts through every one, trying to see if anything is salvageable. Most of it is, but there is plenty he has to toss.

Simon works until there is nothing left. It’s incredibly late, the time creeping close to the rising of the sun. Returning to the bedroom, Simon kicks off his shoes and removes the balaclava. You’ve seen his face countless times, and showing it now is normal.

When Simon slips into the bed beside you, and your body shifts, turning in his direction. He slides over into your reaching arms. The moment your bodies come together, you sigh with pleasure, and the noise goes straight to his groin.

But Simon won’t. He won’t push. This is not about him.

Sleep floods in, and it is your soft hands caressing his face that eventually wake him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice harsh from dreaming.

“Morning, Simon,” you reply, resting your chin on his chest.

This is how mornings used to be. It sends Simon into memory and the days when he knew he was in love.

Was?

No.

Is. He still is. He still loves you utterly. That never stopped for him.

Your hands are not idle. After caressing his face, they move downward. The shift in your motions sends little shivers through his spine. They are visible and sharp. You inhale, and Simon begins to lean in. You mimic him but pause before your mouths can meet.

“Do you have to go?”

Simon captures one of your wrists with his hand, caressing the pulse point there with his thumb. “I can stay as long as you like.”

The smile that spreads across your face warms him everywhere. He wants to savor it forever. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. Then, your head shifts to glance at his chest and stomach. He might be wearing a shirt but Simon feels bare under your attention.

As your gaze returns to his face, Simon’s resolve melts away.

Fuck it. He’s doing this.

Grabbing the back of your neck, Simon closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. There is no hesitation or resistance. You melt into him, and Simon has to hold back a moan. Every kiss is tender. Sweet. He’s missed this—missed you so fucking much it’s a raging inferno under his skin.

There is no part he leaves untouched. His hands roam everywhere, seeking closeness. Seeking your warmth.

“Simon,” you whimper against his mouth.

“I’m right here, love.”

You push upward, swinging your leg over his body, straddling him. Simon is momentarily stunned but you’re already returning to him, pressing you lips to his. He groans and grips your neck harder as your hips rolls against him.

“Simon,” you repeat, and his name on your lips is shifting him around, turning his insides out, revealing all his weaknesses.

His hands and your hands tug and pull. Moving clothing. Shoving bedding aside. When you start to sink down on him, Simon has to break the frantic kissing to breathe deep, to praise you in all the ways he knows how.

Your hands are solid against his chest. An anchor as you rock back and forth.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Fuck,” he repeats, elongated the vowel as your pussy lightly squeezes him.

Above him, the air from your lungs releases from you in little sighs that creep into his ears and burrow in the folds of his brain. They are collected there. Remembered.

Using his grip on the back of your neck, Simon pulls you right back in, claiming your mouth. You open for him perfectly, your hips momentarily stalling as all your attention shifts to this one connection.

But Simon needs that movement. He craves it like the birds need the wind.

Wrapping his free arm around your waist, Simon flips you onto your back. There is no pause between the time Simon flips you and when he starts to thrust. It is instant. An impulse. A driving force that overcomes him.

Your fingers claw at his back, your legs hooking around the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer. If that is what you want, Simon will do it. Happily.

Pressing his forehead to yours, the two of you exchange breaths. The bed strikes the wall in repeated thuds, pleasure pooling in the base of Simon’s spine.

“Don’t—” You inhale. Exhale. “Stop.”

Growling, Simon presses his mouth to your neck, his pace increasing until his thrusting becomes an erratic, desperate thing. He hears you moaning, feels your pussy clenching down to keep him inside.

It’s too fucking much.

Simon’s own release roils up from the depths. His hips grind forward, creating a seal as he comes. His entire body shivers as one of your hands cradles his cheek. The touch is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

But then you curl your fingers under his chin, guiding his face away from your neck to stare into your eyes. He starts to pull away, but your feet stay locked over the back of his legs, keeping him inside you.

Simon smirks.

He has you.

It might not be perfect or even solid, but he has his way in.

You haven’t said it, but you don’t need to.

You are his.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @kittytiddywinks @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[waspsinyouryard]

✨ bald-face-beauty follow

y'all need to stop shitting on parasitoids. "i'm a wasp but at least i'm not the type that are gross dirty parasites lol" do you fucking hear yourself.

🪵 woodful-chewer follow

Has a cordiceps fungus taken hold or something?????? You're literally defending parasites??????? Like actual real parasites that do so much actual real damage to the bug community???????

✨ bald-face-beauty follow

You also do "so much real damage to the bug community" when you predate things lmao

💛 yellow-coat follow

not the parasitoid trying to say that PREDATION is problematic

✨ bald-face-beauty follow

I am literally a bald-faced hornet. And that wasn't the point i was trying to make anyways.

How is parasitism problematic when predation isn't?

🐛 kitty-pillar follow

Predation literally is problematic??????????????

✨ bald-face-beauty follow

please this isn't about that

🐛 kitty-pillar follow

How can this conversation not be about predation being problematic?

Do you have any idea what it's like to be terrified for your life every single fucking day? To know at any time that a bird or a lizard or even one of you could appear out of nowhere and fucking eat me? Do you have any fucking idea what that's like? Or are you so egocentric that you've never even thought about the fact that all the bugs you kill had lives and thoughts and feelings.

✨ bald-face-beauty follow

ok i'm turning off reblogs on this trainwreck of a post.

Do you ever think about all the plants you eat? Do you ever think about the fact that those plants feel pain? Do you ever think about the pain and suffering your existence has wrought upon the world? Of course not. Plants are beneath you.

Here's the thing, fucker: all life is lived at the expense of others. All of it. Even plants, who get all their food from the sun, grow over and poison each other to get ahead. There is no path to complete cruelty-free living. None. You cannot be alive without directly or indirectly harming something else.

What gives you the right to think you're better than us just because you hurt things that can't complain?

[hier--soir]

don't cry over spilt milk

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: joel is not happy to find out that you slept with someone else. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] fwb!joel, major jealousy, possessiveness, reader is kinda mean and clueless, mean!joel, some unrequited feelings, smut, unprotected p in v sex, oral [f!recieving], spitting.... word count: 4.8k series masterlist | masterlist this is part three of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, four.

The community dining hall was full of people. Groups of families and friends huddled on long tables, eating dinner together. The summer heat was killing you; thick, humid air suffocating your skin, making it feel like your thin singlet was melting onto your back. And being inside the dining hall did nothing to stem the early evening warmth, so you sat and basked in the stale sticky air while you ate, trying to ignore the way sweat made the skin of your thighs stick to the chair beneath you.

“And I can head shot those fuckers from a mile out,” Tommy was saying, his fork hovering in mid-air between his plate and his mouth. “I stand up on the hill and I spot ‘em, wandering around Alpine Crest Community, and I just take ‘em out. Ain’t nothin’ to it.”  

You rolled your eyes, fork pushing the remaining food around your plate. “Give it a rest Tommy, save some humility for the rest of us.”  

“It ain’t about bein’ humble,” he grinned at you. “It’s about knowin’ your way around a sniper – and I know it best.”

“Oh shut up, Miller,” someone further down the table threw a dirty napkin at him, and he caught it, gripping it to his chest and chuckling in mock indignancy. “Some of us are trying to eat our dinner in peace, without having to hear any of your stories.”

“Ask Ellie,” he continued around a full mouth this time. “She saw it. I let her have a shot at it too; kid’s not half bad.”

You gave him a bemused look, “And how did Joel react to you letting Ellie use the sniper?”

 “Our little secret,” he winked at you.

Fairly often the group of you would commune in the hall and share a meal together, catching up on work and family and settlement gossip. It was a nice way to connect with the community, and you would damn sure rather eat dinner with friends in the hall than alone in your house.

“Hey,” Tommy called out suddenly, the rise in volume startling you. Turning in your chair, you followed his gaze to see that Joel had walked into the hall and was making a beeline toward your table. “How was patrol?”

Joel settled beside the table, standing directly behind your chair. “Good,” he said blankly. “Uneventful.” He looked down to you, and you smiled up at him, holding out your fist as a greeting.

He didn’t return the sentiment, staring blankly at your hand in the air until you shook it at him. “You’re supposed to give me a fist bump, Joel. It’s how friends greet each other.”

Your friends tittered around the table, none of you picking up on Joel’s bad mood quite yet. “You joining us for dinner?” one of them asked him.

“Not tonight,” he shook his head, still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “I need to talk to you,” he said.

“Sure,” you blinked, scraping the last of your food onto your fork and shovelling it into your mouth ungracefully. “You good?”

“Sure,” he replied vaguely, glancing at Tommy for a split-second. “Come outside.” Before you could respond, he had turned and was making his way out of the hall.

You let out a low whistle and rose from your chair, glancing at Tommy. He was watching you closely, a slight ridge formed in between his eyebrows. You cringed and looked away quickly, muttering a goodbye to the table before heading outside. After what happened a few weeks prior, things with Tommy were always awkward when it came to you and Joel being alone. Although he’d never brought it up or asked any questions, for which you were eternally grateful, you knew he had to be curious, and his mind would’ve been whirring at a hundred miles a minute trying to figure out the situation going on between you and his brother. You just thanked your lucky stars he didn’t have the guts to ask you about it outright.  

When you stepped outside the doors the summer air smacked you in the face all over again and you grimaced, spotting Joel marching away from the hall and jogging to catch up to him.  

“What’s going on?” you followed him, speaking to his back as he walked ahead of you, leading the pair of you down the street. “Joel?”

He spun suddenly; feet planted in the dirt as he stared you down. His expression was unreadable, but you could see in his posture that something was brewing deep inside of him. He was tense; hands fisted tightly by his sides, jaw locked.

“Lloyd Peterson, huh?”

“What?” your face twisted in confusion. “What about Lloyd Peterson?”

“Overheard him on patrol today,” he said gruffly. “Was telling Davis he fucked you last week.”

An uneasy feeling rolled through your stomach. “Christ,” you huffed. “What an ass.”  

“He’s lyin’ then?” Joel raised an eyebrow.

“Oh,” you paused, rocking back on your heels. “I mean, no; he’s not lying. Just didn’t think he was the type to shout it from the rooftops.”

As you spoke, you didn’t immediately notice how poorly Joel was reacting, but soon enough you were locked into a staring match with him, realising just how badly he was reacting to the information.

He was silent. For a moment, you weren’t even sure if his chest was rising and falling. The summer breeze whistled between you two, playing with his dark curls. But his face was stony. Lips sealed shut and dark eyebrows drawn tight in the middle of his forehead as he glowered at you.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off in an instant, his cold words slicing through the tense air. “You fuckin’ many other guys?”

Eyebrows raised high, you shook your head no slowly.

“Just Peterson then.”

“It was one time Joel, it’s hardly a regular thing.”  

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

Your stomach dropped. With those words you saw past the stormy expression on his face, the way his fingernails dug crescent moons into the palms of his hands, and understood the insecurity hidden underneath it all. The jealousy. Your heartrate kicked up a notch as you wondered where the fuck this was coming from. Sure, you and Joel fucked around and spat possessive nonsense at each other while you fucked, but this seemed bizarre. You’d been close friends for years, and had been fucking casually for months. So why was he suddenly acting like you had betrayed him?

“What do you mean?” you questioned him slowly.

“Thought we had fun together,” his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. “Didn’t realise I wasn’t doin’ it for you anymore.”

“Joel, this has nothing to do with you,” you huffed.

“The hell it doesn’t,” he barked, and you flinched, looking around quickly to see how many people were within earshot of the conversation. You were standing in the middle of the street for fuck’s sake.

“Shut up,” you hissed. “You’re making a fucking scene.”

Joel took two quick steps forward until your chests were close to touching, staring down at you with an intensity that almost made you shudder. “Tell me why you fucked him.”

For a split second, you despised him for the guilt you felt. Heat soared across your cheeks, and your palms were damp with perspiration. He was glaring, dark eyes holding your gaze and making it almost impossible to look away. So you allowed your guilt to shift to anger.

“What the fuck is it to you?” you whispered viciously, painfully aware of a woman walking past. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Last I checked, you and I are friends. Just because we get our rocks off together doesn’t mean I owe you anything, least of all an explanation for fucking someone else.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he spat, words laced with venom. “I’ve never once asked you for anything. Not for anything other than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more. And I thought we had a good thing goin’; thought we had an understanding. We rely on each other, we trust each other. Didn’t think you’d go off and fuck someone else while I was out on patrol one day.”

The implication behind his words made your chest tighten. The insinuation that if he had his way, you two would be more. You pushed the thought out of your mind to deal with later.

“It just happened!” you said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You placed them on his chest and pushed him back a step, eager to have some space between you.  “It was in the heat of the moment, he made a move, and it happened, okay? It’s not like I waited for you to leave the fucking gates and then I beat down his door.”

He was breathing heavily, and you could see the cogs turning rapidly in his head as he soaked in your words. You spoke again before he could. “You’re telling me you don’t fuck anyone else?”

Joel’s face twisted into an ugly snarl, and his silence was all the response you needed. And really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. If he was so scorned by the idea of you and Peterson, he obviously wasn’t fucking other people.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked, voice softer. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re my friend, and I care about you Joel, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“I don’t want an apology,” he scowled.

“Then what do you want?”

“I want you to tell me,” his voice lowered, and he stepped closer, leaning down to breath his next words into your ear. “Tell me how he fucked you.”   

Your breath hitched in your throat, mouth drying instantly. “What?” you mumbled in shock.

“You heard me,” he whispered, so close that his minty breath tickled across your face. “How did he fuck you?”

“Joel,” you shook your head, trying to ignore the sudden pulsing at the apex of your thighs. “This is ridicu-“

“Did you let him taste you?” he growled. “He put his tongue inside you?”

“N-no,” you stuttered out, wetting your lips desperately. “No, he didn’t.”

“Shame,” Joel chuckled mirthlessly. “He’s missin’ out.”

You prayed he didn’t notice the way your nipples had hardened through the thin material of your shirt.

“So what then?” he prompted. “Tell me.”

“Are you being serious?” your cheeks blazed. “I blew him, we fucked. What do you want me to say?” His eyes darkened considerably at the mention of another man’s cock in your mouth, and you willed yourself to hold strong and not back down. God he was intimidating when he wanted to be.

“How did he fuck you?”

“He was on top,” you grunted, feeling like a student getting scolded by their teacher.

Joel hummed in response, his eyes raking over your features, before flitting down and taking in the sight of your body. Your hands were shaking with frustration, but your legs were pressed tightly together were you stood, thighs tensed in anticipation.

“Let’s go,” is all he said, before turning and marching in the direction of his house. You followed him wordlessly on shaky legs.

The house was empty and quiet when you got there.

He held the front door open for you, and once you were inside he slammed it, sliding the lock into place. You jumped slightly at the loud noise, a nervous wreck as you anticipated what was about to happen.

“Upstairs,” he muttered, leading you up and into his bedroom.

As soon as you reached the room, Joel was on you, pressing you against the closed door. Large hands kneaded your flesh, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. His kiss was rough, all wet tongue and lips and teeth bumping against teeth, as he pushed himself desperately close to you. You gasped into his mouth, whimpering as his teeth bit down on your lower lip, enjoying the sharp sting as he pulled back and stretched it out before letting go. He gripped the hem of your singlet and ripped it over your head, bearing your chest to him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he sponged kisses down your neck, across your collarbones, before wrapping his lips around one of your aching nipples. You sighed in relief, gripping his hair tightly as he sucked and licked at the tight bud, his teeth lightly grazing it occasionally. His left hand drifted up your sternum to pinch the other one, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, and groaning into your chest at the pathetic sounds that drifted from your mouth.

Over the sounds of your own panting, you heard the sound of a zipper being undone, and looked down to find him pulling himself out of his jeans. He was already hard, the tip red and weeping precum as he began to stroke himself slowly, never stopping the movements of his mouth on you.

“Joel,” you panted, pushing his face away from your chest. “I want to taste you.”

He grunted, eyes never leaving your face as the muscles in his right arm tensed with every tug on his cock. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

Considering the heat, you were happy to do as he asked, sighing in relief as you peeled your sticky clothes from your body and settled yourself in the middle of his large bed, sitting balanced on your heels, waiting for him to join you. He pushed his jeans down his legs slowly, tearing his shirt over his head until he was just as naked as you were. Your mouth salivated as you stared at him, eyes constantly drifting between his face and where he fisted his cock, desperate to feel the weight of him on your tongue.

“You want my cock in your pretty mouth, baby?” he asked lowly, and you nodded quickly, mentally begging him to get on the bed. Joel stared at you for a moment, contemplating, before a mean grin split across his face. “Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we, sunshine?” You faltered, frowning at him as he reached out and pressed on your shoulder, pushing you down so you laid on the bed.

Joel got onto the bed and rested on his knees, gazing down at you. “Spread your legs. Go on, show me that pretty pussy.”

Splaying yourself open on the bed, you basked in the feeling of his eyes raking over you, taking in every inch of skin on display, every detail of your body. His eyes worshipped you, and your heart panged in your chest as you recognised the look in his expression. It was awe.

“Look at that,” he leered. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. Dripping wet and I’ve hardly even touched you yet. Who’s that for?”

“For you,” you breathed.

“That’s right. Because it’s mine, ain’t that right?” It wasn’t abnormal for him to talk like this when you were fucking, but in that moment the words felt heavier. They held more gravity, a more honest yearning in them than usual.

And yet you nodded. “Yours, Joel.”

Upon hearing your words he leant down to press his chest on the bed, and his lips were dragging along your inner thigh, coming dangerously close to where you wanted his mouth the most, but not quite going there yet.

“Unlike that fuckin’ boy,” he snapped. “I’m gonna enjoy takin’ my time with you. Not gonna waste an opportunity to get my mouth on this beautiful cunt.”

Your chest heaved at his words, and you were about to make a snarky comment but then his mouth was on you and all thoughts left your brain. He pressed deep, longing kisses into your folds, his tongue swiping between them in broad strokes, moaning as he tasted you for the first time in over a week. Strong hands gripped your thighs and held them apart as he devoured you, his tongue dipping into your entrance before moving up to lathe slow circles around your aching clit.

Your head was buried in the pillows, hips shifting restlessly and pushing against his grip, trying to grind yourself up against face, desperate for more friction. But he held you down, refusing to speed up his movements.

“Fuck,” you moaned lowly, reaching down to grip his shoulder, digging your fingernails into his skin to show him how good it felt. Joel groaned into you in response, dragging his tongue along the entirety of you, ending it with a sharp flick across your bundle of nerves. You gasped, twitching underneath him.

He hooked a finger inside you, the tip pressing deliciously into the spongy spot on the roof of your walls. You whined desperately, longing for release as he painstakingly lapped and sucked and kissed your sopping core. One hand gripped his shoulder, and the other clawed frantically at the bedsheets, searching for leverage, for something to bear yourself against as he built up your orgasm.

“Feels so good,” you gasped, torso writhing against the bed. “I need more, please, Joel.”

Without warning, he pressed a second finger inside you, and then a third, stretching you out while his tongue flicked against your clit. A broken cry spilled out of your mouth, your stomach tensing painfully tight as he pressed into you. Liquid heat began to spread through your abdomen and thighs, and you longed to wrap your legs around his head, press him in closer, have him gasping for breath against you. But his grip tightened, forcing you to stay splayed on the bed.

“Not yet,” he murmured against you.

“I’m so close,” you mewled.

“Not yet,” he repeated, pulling back to stare down at where his fingers worked you so perfectly, pushing against your walls, stretching you out for him. He leaned down and spat onto your pussy, and you clenched painfully tight around his fingers, mouth ajar at the feeling. And then his mouth was back on you, strong tongue flicking back and forth over your clit savagely, and you moaned his name desperately, begging him to let you come. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer, and heat flooded your body, your own heartbeat rushing in your ears, body twitching and writhing beneath him as he removed his fingers from you and pressed his tongue into your entrance, sucking and licking up every drop of your release. Your eyes were shut tight, and your mouth hung open in elation, breathy moans of praise slipping from between your lips.

As you came down from your high, he pressed soft kisses against you, giving gentle kitten licks against your clit as you twitched into the bed, away from the pressure on your overstimulated nerves. Finally, his mouth dragged away, and he pressed kisses all the way up your sternum before his lips were against yours. His face was wet from your slick, and it smeared across your cheeks, but you didn’t mind, kissing him eagerly, tongue delving into his mouth to taste yourself.

For a few moments, the pair of you simply laid there, legs tangled together and kissing messily, sighing into each other’s mouths. But it was like a switch flipped suddenly, and Joel pushed himself off you, his walls flying back up. The frown descended back over his face, and you sighed in frustration, wishing he would just forgive you.

Reaching out, you trailed your fingers over his abdomen, touch featherlight, and enjoyed seeing the way goosebumps rippled across his olive toned skin. He shuddered, the muscles underneath his skin tightening as your fingers lowered, trailing through the curls at his base before gripping his thick length.  He grunted at the feeling, hips pushing forward slightly. You stroked him lazily, swiping your thumb across his tip and collecting some of his precum before lifting it to your mouth and tasting him. You hummed, tongue swirling around your finger.   

“Enough,” he said quietly, manoeuvring himself to rest between your open thighs. His cock bobbed against his stomach, smearing a light sheen across his skin in its wake. Your core ached, clenching around nothing.  You were so wet you could feel it dripping out of you, soaking the sheets underneath where you laid.

Joel gripped his cock and leaned forward, dragging the tip through your folds, covering himself in your slick. You moaned in unison at the sensation.

He tapped himself roughly against your clit once, twice, three times until you were trembling, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip, eyes screaming please just fuck me.

He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance and pushed forward ever so slightly, looking down to watch his tip push inside of you. The slight obtrusion made you hold your breath, impatiently waiting for him to take you. He gripped the backs of your knees and wrapped your legs around his waist, where you locked your ankles to hold him against you. The only sound in the room was of your erratic breaths, mingling together in the air. You made eye contact with him and offered a small, encouraging smile. Without wasting another second, he pressed forward, your walls welcoming him until he was so deep inside, bottoming out as his hipbones collided with your thighs.

A choked gasp escaped you. The weight of him inside of you was so heavy, his thick length filling you up to the point where you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

“Always so fuckin’,” Joel groaned, hips pulling back a fraction before he pressed back into you. “Tight for me. Squeeze me so good, s’like you were made for me.”

“You’re so big,” you panted. “Feels so fucking good, Joel.”

He began to move with slow thrusts, pressing into you deeper, harder, with every shift of his hips. You threw your head back into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as your body sang from his touch. His hand disappeared from your leg and gripped your face, thumb pressing into one side of your cheek while his fingers dug into the other.

“Look at me,” he ordered, and your eyes flew open as he squeezed your face, lips parting wider. “I want to see those eyes while I fuck you.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, tone laced with apology for daring to look away for even a second. His thumb hooked into your open mouth, and he leaned forward so his lips were almost touching yours. But Joel didn’t kiss you. Instead, he spat right into your mouth, and you moaned deeply, swallowing it down. He pressed his thumb against your lips and you opened up for him again, so he could work it into your mouth, pushing down onto your tongue as he fucked you painfully slow. You closed your mouth around the digit, lathing your tongue over it and coating it in a mix of your saliva and his. He groaned in response, his hips jutting forward in a sudden harsh thrust. Dragging his hand from your face, he gripped your thighs again, grinding down into you and making you whimper at the friction as his coarse hair rubbed against your clit. You looked down at where you were connected, watching him rub himself against you.

 “Was it like this?” he asked quietly. Your eyes snapped back to his.

“What?” you mumbled, mind hazy with desire.

When Joel spoke again, your entire body stilled. “You said he was on top?”

You hesitated before nodding, your heart palpitating in your chest.

“Was it like this?” he repeated the question, his movements pausing.

“Sort of,” you muttered shyly. It felt silly, to be shy in front of him when he had his cock inside you and you were both fully naked, but nonetheless, you were.

“Tell me,” he said those damn words again.

“He,” you gulped in a breath of air, forcing yourself to speak. “He pushed my legs up, so I had my-“

Joel’s movement interrupted you, as he pushed your thighs down to press against your chest, your ankles resting on the top of his shoulders. “Like this?”

“Yes,” you gasped, trembling at the new angle. “He said it would be deeper; said it would feel better.”

“And did it?” he spoke through gritted teeth, jaw clenched tightly as he watched your face. “Did it feel good when he fucked you like this?”

Your face blazed, and in an effort to take back some control, you grinned up at him slyly. “It felt fucking great.”

He pulled out almost completely before slamming his length back into you, and you moaned brokenly, face twisting at the sharp pain that shot through you. There was no denying that Joel was the biggest you’d ever experienced; your walls stretched sharply around him every time, always needing a moment to adjust. But he was relentless, fucking into you roughly, hands gripping your ankles to keep your legs up. The heat in the room had tripled from your joint exertion, and your skin felt tight, beads of sweat rolling off your forehead and into your hair.

“Fuck,” you cried loudly.

“You like this?” he growled. “You like me fuckin’ you the way he did?”

“Joel,” you sobbed, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“You wish it were him instead of me?” he asked, pressing a sloppy kiss to your shin, and you frowned, mouth twisting into a grimace.

“No,” you babbled. “No, Joel, he could never fuck me like this, so deep, you’re so big, fill me up so perfectly. No one could fuck me like you.”

“That’s right,” he grunted, pounding into you mercilessly. “This pussy is mine. No one else could get you like this; so desperate, begging me to make you come. You’re fuckin’ mine.”

“I’m yours,” you cried out, that all too familiar heat igniting in your stomach like a match had been lit. “I’m gonna come Joel, don’t stop, please don’t.”

“Come for me, baby.” Sweat was rolling down his neck, and you gazed up at him through bleary eyes, chest heaving with deep breaths as you felt yourself rest precariously on the edge of your orgasm. “Wanna feel you grip me, I’ve been missin’ it. Show me how good I make you feel, c’mon now.”

His voice was ultimately what pushed you over the edge. That rasping, Southern drawl that you loved hearing mutter filth into your ear. You pulsed around him, an animalistic cry tearing from your throat as he fucked you through your high. You could vaguely hear him rattling off a mix of curses and your name as he bucked into you, and then you felt him paint your insides with his spend. Joel rocked you both through your highs, fingers kneading the flesh of your thighs as he worked himself inside of you, a mix of both of your cum squeezing around his cock and dripping down onto the bedsheets.

When all was said and done he pulled out slowly, watching you closely as you winced at the loss of his weight inside you. Wordlessly, he disappeared into the bathroom before returning with a wet cloth, and used it to clean you up. He settled heavily on the bed beside you, lying flat on his back and cracking his knuckles loudly.

“I’m fuckin’ spent,” he drawled, scratching his beard. You rolled onto your side so you could stare at him, and murmured a quiet agreement. He stared up at the roof, and you frowned, frustrated to feel tears welling up in your eyes.

“Joel,” you whispered. He must’ve heard your voice break, because he turned on his side so you were facing each other straight on. His face was calm, wrinkles smoothed out, jaw relaxed. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His eyes darted across your face, noting the unshed tears on your waterline, dangerously close to spilling. With a quiet sigh, he reached up and rested his palm on your face, thumb stroking the soft skin underneath your eye.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“If you don’t want me to fuck anyone else, I won’t,” you said, voice wobbling. “I’m plenty satisfied with you, I shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”

“Okay,” is all he said. “It’s okay, sunshine.” The familiar nickname made your chest ache.

“Joel,” you whispered his name, gazing forlornly at him. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?”

Joel stared, silently absorbing your words. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you shut your eyes, leaning into him.

“Stay for a while,” he whispered against your skin. “Don’t want you to go yet.”

The words he spoke earlier rang through your mind. I’ve never once asked you for anything. Not for anything other than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.

“Okay,” you nodded, laying an arm over his side. “Just for a little while.”

final part

[petew21-blog]

I hate myself

I just hate my reflection now so much. His face looking back at me. I know it's my reflection now, but I still can't get used to it.

I never planned on swapping bodies with Zahir. But after what my father did, I had no choice

My father was not always a good parent, but he was great with money. He established a very fine hotel, which he planned on turning into a family business. None of my siblings were interested, because they all had their lives and their jobs. My siblings are all much older than me. I was foolish enough to think that they didn't want to help my father. But after many years of helping out instead of studying, I found out throughout that my father was a monster. He never treated people with respect, bullied his employees, and had many homophobic and transphobic comments to people, which didn't help the business, but he didn't really care as long as he had enough income.

I was closeted. And afraid to come out to my father. I knew our relationship would change after that, and I was right. After coming out to me, he never treated me the same. But he still kept me around to help him. Again, I was too naive to think that he was trying to be a better person. Nope. He got himself a new wife to impregnate and get another son. And after that he disowned me. As if I was nothing. As if I didn't help him enough to hold the place together.

I was furious and depressed. I kept checking the news of the hotel every single time I had a bit of free time. He pretended that he managed well, but it was all crumbling. And then he promoted Zahir. One of my friends who worked his way to the top by kissing ass and lying. Sorry, ex-friends now. He presented my ideas for the hotel as his own the second I left the building.

I hated him. I hated both of them from that moment. Revenge was on my mind daily now, but I had no idea how I would even attempt that.

I stumbled upon a website. It claimed to change your life for the better. Yes, you needed to pay a LOT. But I was desperate. I'm sure you understand. I sent the money and waited

I felt a nauseating feeling in my stomach. I closed my eyes. Something was happening.

I opened my eyes. YESSSS. I was back in my apartement at the hotel. Fuck yeah. It worked. I have my life back

But then I noticed some of my stuff was misplaced. The paintings on the walls were down, much more garbage on the ground than I was used to. I had a really bad feeling. I looked down

"What the fuck" a strange voice now escaped my throat. Manly, but not mine. And down below was a different view than I was used to.

Abs. I never had abs. I would kill to have abs like these, cause the gay community is so toxic about your body.

But I knew this wasn't my body. The skin was darker than my own. Maybe the website gave me a better body along with improved life

I went to the bathroom. And the second I saw my body I thought I was gonna vomit right at that spot.

Zahir

Fuckin' Zahir

That stupid freaking website turned me into Zahir

This must be a horrible joke. I turned into my enemy. A homophobic fucker who worships my father.

I looked at myself. His curly hair, his beard. I have to admit Zahir is not a bad looking guy. Maybe it could be good to be in his body. He is hot, has a great body. Maybe I could score some cute guys looking like this. And maybe I could convince my father to let me take over the hotel. I would be happier and so would my father

Ok, let's see what this body can do

I took off my new clothes. Zahir's hairy legs, hairy balls and a pretty nice dick were now available for me to explore. I entered the hot shower.

I flexed the muscles. "Oh yeah. Not bad" I touched every ridge that I now possessed. I sniffed my hairy armpits. The reeking smell hitting my nose. If I were in my body I would have been already hard at that moment

I got down to my dick. Playing with the foreskin. Feeling the weight of my new hairy balls. They were a bit larger than my own. I started jerking my new dick. Thinking about being in a new body and fucking some hot guy with it. But no matter how much I tried I couldn't get it hard.

"How do you like being impotent?" a very familiar voice could be heard behind me

I turned around and saw my old body standing in the doorway

"Zahir..."

"Not anymore, honey. I'm you now. I have to say, It's gonna get some getting used to being in your fat gay body, but nothing that a few regular trips to the gym wouldn't fix"

"Wait, you're okay with this?"

"Are you kidding? I'm now in the body of your father's heir. All I need to do is come to him and tell him I'm straight and sorry. He'll welcome me with open arms"

"Zahir, you can't do this. You can't ruin my life like this"

"Ruin your life? Honey, look at the body you now have. You should feel lucky to be looking like me. And I can't wait to tell your, sorry MY FATHER, about you stealing money and leaking secret information. He's gonna be so pissed when he finds out"

"I didn't steal anything. You can't just pin shit on my and expect it to work"

"Maybe you haven't, but I have. And I got all the evidence. Anyway, i see you're busy getting to know your... not really working manhood, thanks for that as well by the way. And I hope to never see you again. ZAHIR"

"So that's my story. That's why I hate looking at myself in the mirror"

"Right... Maybe start with something more believable next time I ask about your backstory"

"Whatever. You asked"

"Hey, the guy that was here the last time asked for you. He said that he would leave a good tip if he could piss on you"

"He knows damn well that it will cost him more. No tips will change that"

I took a shot of vodka. "Alright, let's do this. Gotta earn those money"

I looked back in the mirror at Zahir's face. God, I hate myself so much

[arachniee]

✰ The Arbiter of Justice.

Ex Situationship! Alastor x Female! Overlord Reader , Vox x Female! Overlord Reader, Lucifer x Female! Overlord Reader

₊˚✩彡 Summary: Famously known as hell's only demon that can break contracts between other sinners, you were very sought after by those who wish to free themselves from the wretched hands of their soul owners, much to the dismay (annoyance) of the other Overlords.

₊˚✩彡Notes: okay so, i know you're probably wondering why this came out faster than the parts of my other series, lets just say that i absolutely despised the first drafts i had and had to redo and edit some stuff again, but hey, here you go (this is not proofread, you have been warned)

╰⪼ “Those fuckers are back!”

Vox yelled, flailing his arms out with each syllable that left his petty mouth. Great. First, he found out that the radio demon was back from whatever hole in hell he's been hiding in for the last 7 years, and second, that bitch in the shadows made her appearance again after a whole decade! God, isn't his life just fucking great.

Valentino wanted to snicker, mock him because of his childishness. But he couldn't, for he too was not pleased with someone's return. Sure, he could live without Alastor, and yeah, he could live with the radio demon around. He didn't really care about him, it was only Vox who hated Alastor so much to obviously express it. But the Arbiter? Valentino would even thank any exorcist who manages to kill her. Though, he knew not to expect anything. Since the Vee’s have never really laid a scratch on her skin, no matter what they did. 

“I thought she was gone for good too.”

It's been almost 10 years since she left, leaving the Vee’s to assume (hope) that she'd never return and potentially ruin their status. Ever since her sudden disappearance, they've made it their goal to savour this experience, the feeling of making as many contracts as possible without the restraint from that wretched woman who was dubbed the “Arbiter”.

“Can’t this day get any fucking worse?!” 

Vox was fuming, it was very prominent. Of course he'd be angry, a threat has been posed to his business. With the Arbiter’s return, surely he'll lose most of his employees again! And that is NOT happening. And to add to his already boiling anger, the radio demon is back as well. He could feel the temperature of his screen almost overloading, if he doesn't calm down soon, he might even crack his screen. 

It was only a matter of time ‘til the word reached Velvette, and they were sure that she would also be displeased with the news. All these deals and contracts they made to build themselves up, climb the ranks, all of these may potentially be snatched away by the Arbiter again in a matter of time. They can't afford for that to happen, not now, not again, not ever.

“The upcoming Overlord meeting… Are you going to attend?”

Valentino asked, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for Vox’s answer. His question was hinting a very obvious thought, with the return of the radio demon and the arbiter, surely almost every Overlord will be present. No, the Arbiter has never really attended the meeting personally, but they always send a shadow in their place. That's the most interaction a person has with her, aside from those who manage to successfully summon her and make a contract with her for her services. So attending the Overlord meeting and speaking with the shadow would be their only way of communicating with her. That is the only way they'll be able to receive some sort of response. 

Even with how problematic the Arbiter is for them, little to none is known about her. Every person whom she freed from a contract will always do and say the same thing. Their finger pressing to their lips, a eerily soft smile, and a gentle voice that would speak the words;

“Sh, her shadow might hear you!”

Well, that didn't fill up with any context. It was the same actions and answer, no matter how many times a demon would ask them. Did the Arbiter do something to them? Did they say something? Regardless, it was really frustrating. Especially to those who wanted to gather information about her to bring her down. Ehem, the Vee’s, and maybe a few other Overlords.

───〃★

Ever since your disappearance, Alastor and his dear friends were quite bummed (more so than he'd like to admit). And maybe because of the fact that he may favor you more than the others, who knows? But the pain you unknowingly left in his heart was a feeling he could never forget. A feeling he can’t seem to get himself past. Petty, call it as you will. But the memory you engraved in his mind kept him up all night, every night. You consumed him and his thoughts, especially in his sleep.

Which is why he wanted nothing more than to never sleep again.

Despite him not wanting to acknowledge it, he liked you far more than the rest. And he hated himself for it. No matter how hard he tried to avoid any indication of your presence, you still bled into every crevice and corner of this shitty hell hole. Every corner that touched the light and casted shadows, all of it haunted him.

Everything was so similar to you.

So he left. For the longest time, he tried his very best to forget you, spending his time doing who knows what. It has already been 7 years, before he knew it. He knew it was conflicting, but a part of his wretched soul wondered. 

Would you be there on his return?

Most likely not. He hoped that you wouldn’t. But he also hoped to see you, even just once. A single glance at you would’ve made him crumble. The wall that he built to keep romance away, it’ll all come crashing down, without a doubt. 

“Alastor? What’s botherin’ you, dear?” 

A feminine voice cut through the thick tension in the room, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. Ah, he almost forgot he was in his dear friend’s Emporium. Well, it wasn’t entirely his fault his thoughts wandered off, especially after seeing a picture with a familiar face on it. 

“Oh, worry not, Dear Rosie! Nothing a little work can’t handle!’

He assured her, that wide, signature smile of his visibly staring back at the woman. She mirrored it, though she seemed a little less hostile, even with her razor sharp teeth. She had been worried since Alastor left, of course, but what worried her more was how she’d often find him in a daze, seemingly unaware of everything around. Now, in hell, being unaware of your surroundings is the last thing you want. It’s not like she was doubting his strength and power, oh no. But she really can’t help it. She’s often the one taking care of everyone, so naturally, she wants to be there for him out of instinct. 

“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like it, Cerf.”

A husky voice piped in, peeking from behind the couch that Rosie and the radio demon sat on. Another figure, who seemingly appeared to be a more masculine version of the Cannibal District’s leader. Same pitch black eyes, pale skin and mop of greyish pink stands. Adorned with a rather lavish suit and a light colored fedora that contrasted Rosie’s more pinkish hat. 

“As sharp as always, I see you are!”

“Oh come on, pumpkin! We gotta give Alastor his own personal space, okay? If he doesn’t wanna talk about it then we won’t force him.” 

Rosie interrupted, glancing behind her to finally eye the person that the voice belonged to. The previous smile on her face seemed to grow, of course, why wouldn’t it? Looking at her younger brother has always been pleasing to her, especially since they look too much alike.

“I am well aware, my Rosa. Must you always treat me as an unknowing child?” 

Her younger brother sighed, momentarily closing his eyes and shaking his head left and right, his greyish pink locks swaying with each movement. 

“But my dear, it seems that you are!” 

The radio demon replied to his question. This was one of the ways Alastor tried, in hopes of forgetting you. Spending time with his dearest friends was something he cherished, especially with how much he saw that they genuinely cared for him. But it was a bittersweet feeling. 

How differently would things be if you were still here?

“Word has it that she has finally returned.” 

The same figure from behind the two seated Overlords exclaimed, tone now an octave lower and stirring with an unknowing emotion. Was he trying to be cautious? Or was he trying to not be insensitive towards Alastor’s feelings? Well, whatever the reason, this topic was bound to surface in their conversations anytime soon, so might as well talk about it now.

“My Riose, that is not something you must bring up so suddenly!” 

The said young man let out a huff of air, out of amusement or interest, not quite sure. Gosh, he certainly is still like a child in the two Overlords’ eyes. With a shrug, Riose decided to change the topic. Man, he was expecting to hear more stories about the Arbiter, but that can wait another time perhaps. Once the radio demon has fully moved on, he supposed. 

Alastor knew you were back, he has connections after all. But he hated how he hoped so much that you’d meet again, after all these years. But that was closer to impossible, to be honest. He’s accepted that fact, not fully, but he’s trying. Trying to move on, trying to forget you.

Though Riose had a feeling that he’d share this stuff with you and tell you about the shit the radio demon has been ranting to him and his sister, and unfortunately, you don’t know if you want to let Alastor go yet.

[under-loch-n-key]

Hi everyone. Obviously everyone has seen the news and read the polls and obviously you can tell that we’re likely cooked.

For some reason our country wants to elect the Mango Menace and his gaggle of orange stained goons once again.

I am terrified for myself, my loved ones, my country, our climate, and just everything.

However, I’d like to tell the LGBTQIA+ community these things because I know we are terrified right now.

What happened today, it’s devastating. It angers me too. Some of my closest family voted for that horrible man. I don’t think I can look at them the same way anymore. Especially, when they hold no guilt or remorse about it even after I explained his policies to them. What do I know, I guess.. 🤷🏻‍♂️🙄

However, as a queer, trans man in this little community, I want ALL of the LGBTQIA+ people who will see this post to know that things will be alright. We all have each other. We know we exist here in the states even if none of us have met. We EXIST.

Just because those orange stained dunderheads want to silence us doesn't change the fact that we exist. We do. We always will. Bigotry cannot fight facts and science. We'll always exist. The only time trans people won't exist is when the human race dies out. Even then, we have other animal species that are queer and trans. No matter what, we will always exist in nature. They cannot change that. They cannot take that from us. Do not lose hope. Even though it's really fucking hard not to.

Do not lose it. The fact that you and I exist is a beacon of hope to another trans and queer person. We exist. None of us want to be left here alone. So we must go on. We must continue to exist. Things WILL be okay. I'll always keep fighting and living for you and every one of my trans and queer brothers, sisters, and siblings.

You existing and simply being here is a beacon of hope to me. Someone who has understands how I'm feeling. Someone who is LIKE me but so different at the same time.

In the grand scheme of the universe, we are very small. However, even though it's small, the fact is that it EXISTS. It's so fucking small in this big void of the cosmos but we're here. We're made of similar components as stars, ones that had to die for us to exist.

I like to think of the sky as when humanity was truly equal. When we were just atoms in the big ol' void, ya know? We didn't fight. We didn't give a shit about all of this stuff. We were allll different types of stars and matter. We were all random as hell, but we just WERE. We coexisted peacefully together in the universe.

Now that those stars are dead as a door nail and some dumb fishy bastard decided to get curious and walk on land, we're all human. Humanity fucking sucks ass sometimes but it's also such a beautiful fucking thing. No matter what happens, a part of us will always exist.

Our existence is embedded in the universe. Nothing can change that. So, please keep living. Be safe, but keep living. Always keep fighting. We belong here just like anyone else.

You belong. You are loved. You are cherished. You are noticed by me and other people here. We all understand each other. So keep going. Again, one day we will all have a better tomorrow. I swear to fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, if anything, however it's unlikely, I will ALWAYS keep fighting for you and WITH you.

Every protest l attend. Every petition I sign. Every time I vote. Every time I go to pride. Every time l simply leave my home as I am. I am doing it for you and all of us. Our people WILL have our damn tomorrow. I'm sick of us not having it. I swear to you we will. So, again, please keep going. Keep fighting. Keep living. Exist. Your existence may be a threat to some bigoted fucker but your existence is precious to someone else. Please do not let them take your right to exist away from you. Keep going.

We’ll have a better tomorrow, the one that we deserve eventually, but we just need get through the hard, bumpy, dirty road first.

Again, we will be okay. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through it. Yes, unfortunately, we will likely see suicide rates and hate crime rates go up and that's disgusting and just all types of awful and depressing. It angers me beyond words.

However, we are strong.

We shouldn't have to be strong though.

What we should be and need to be is loved, accepted, warm, fed, have shelter, and are safe.

For now though, we remain strong. You will always have a place here.

You will live. You will not die, hun. I know the thought creeps in and believe me, I understand. Those thoughts creep in for me too, but we must learn to try to control them. If there's anything I know about us trans and queer folk it's that we're strong, feisty, kind, very sexy, and cheeky as hell. So, if we live, we live because it's our damn right and to be spiteful. We do not owe the people who want to harm us our lives. We just don't. We deserve healthcare. We deserve to love and get married.

We deserve to grow old.

You will grow old. You will be able to go on those trips you've always wanted. You will be able to have that cheesy romance you've always wanted, if you are someone who is wanting a relationship.

You'll be able to sit down and watch your favourite movie. Why? Because you stayed. You didn't give up. Ever. We will always exist.

We will ALWAYS live.

Being transgender has existed before humans even walked this earth and it will still exist when all of us book our holy bus tickets and the blessed holy tax collector comes to collect our debted souls. No matter what, we will live on. They can silence us all they want and erase whatever the fuck they want but that doesn't mean that it's the truth. We're HERE.

We've been here since forever ago. Those Cheeto dusted dunderheads cannot change that. Like I told another person here, other animals and even plants are trans and queer! We've always been here. That won't change, hun.

Everything WILL be okay. We'll always survive and live on. Look at how far we've come in these past years. Many of us thought that we'd be gone already but here we are, two trans people typing away in comment sections on an app where middle age men get off to octopus porn and neko ladies in Japanese school girl outfits because men. and welcome to the internet, I guess. Lmao.

Everything will work out on way or another. We'll have our tomorrow, hun. For now, we gotta buckle down because we're in for a bumpy ride but hey, thankfully on bumpy you have those moments where ya hit the bump just right and you're like

"WOAH, HELLO!- mister bump, you better watch yourself, you saucy boy~ You can't be doin' that. You better take me to dinner first." Lmao. Okay, on a more serious note, we just gotta buckle down together and get through this bumpy ass dirt road because after awhile you make it through that rocky dirt road in the woods and come out to feel smooth pavement again. It'll be alright. We just need to band together and make it through. We all are always stronger together. You're not alone, my friends.

You're talkin' to a guy who has the personality of a gay muppet with a big mouth. I'm shocked nothin’ has happened to me yet with my yappy ass screeching and getting over 80+ gay people to start baa-ing like sheep at a bigot at last year's pride event, but that's a wholeeeee different situation.

My point is, we'll be okay. We'll make it through.

You'll survive. You have me. You have everyoneeeee here and on other social forums. Sure, it's not the same as in-person interactions but it's somethin'. It’s better than nothing I guess. If we’ve gotta go stealth mode eventually and make secret groups for us trans and queer folk, then so be it.

Just do whatever you feel you need to do to keep yourselves safe.

We'll have a better tomorrow. We just need to keep pushing through this rough shit. We'll get out of the woods and onto smooth pavement with open skies eventually.

Continue to exist. Fight. Be safe, but live. Live for yourself, fellow trans people, and simply for spite.

Fuck bigots. Not actually though. Like DON'T fuck them. Who knows where they've been. But fuck them. They're not worth your life. Their bigotry is not worth your life. Live because it's your right.

Those guys are all so far up Donald Trump’s ass he fired his doctor and hired his supporters to give him a colonoscopy.

So, live long. Live for love and live for spite, my friends. We'll get through this.

It’s Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo. SPOILER: The first movie sucked too. They even tried to make a third one — Mango Menace Strikes Back! We didn’t want to come to the theatre to see the second one but it was a class field trip that most of America signed for us. So, we’ve allll got no choice but to go on the trip to the cinema.

Anyways, things will be okay. We’ll make it through. We’ll out get it figured out. We always do. We’ll take care of each other. Everything will be alright. 🤙🏼💛⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨

(Sorry for typos and repetitive speech- it’s 4:14 a.m. EST. 😭😭)

[muldj0rd]

It's me and you now || Loscar

Summary: “What’s bothering you, Loges?” Oscar asked softly, emerging from the small bathroom after having a quick shower

“He isn’t even that pretty” Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers against his biceps, his legs spread wide

“Mh. Lando’s the problem” Oscar hummed, pulling on a shirt

Warnings: secret relationship, top Logan, bottom Oscar, jealous Logan, possessive Logan, drivers room sex, thigh grinding, coming in pants

Masterlist || AO3

Logan wasn’t in f1 anymore, sure, but Oscar still invited him to the garage quite a lot

It’s surprising that nobody had figured out they were dating yet

They had told a couple of people, but one of them were not Lando, which was evident when he started flirting with Oscar in the garage just before qualifying

Logan watched the two, observing how Oscar was obviously uncomfortable, but also having a hard time saying no- especially towards Lando

Logan clenched his jaw slightly. Logan wasn’t jealous per se, but… When it came to Lando, he was more jealous- I mean, who wouldn’t? Lando were always so touchy with Oscar, so Logan didn’t see why he shouldn’t be jealous

---

Logan sat in Oscar’s drivers room after qualifying, his arms crossed over his chest, frowning

“What’s bothering you, Loges?” Oscar asked softly, emerging from the small bathroom after having a quick shower

“He isn’t even that pretty” Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers against his biceps, his legs spread wide

“Mh. Lando’s the problem” Oscar hummed, pulling on a shirt

“Why can’t we tell him? I want that fucker to know you’re mine” Logan looked up at Oscar, his expression firm

“Watch how you speak. You might get community service” Oscar joked, walking over to Logan “You know I’m yours, baby” He hummed, straddling Logan’s thighs, pushing his legs together

“Yeah, but I want him to know too so he can back the fuck off” Logan’s hands settled on Oscar’s ass, squeezing him softly, making the Aussie whimper quietly

“You know I can’t tell him” Oscar sighed softly when Logan started placing kisses around his neck and throat

“I’ll fucking show him then” Logan chuckled low before tugging Oscar at his hair softly, sucking on to his neck

“Logan” Oscar whined softly, his arms holding around Logan’s neck “Loges, I have to drive tomorrow, we can’t”

“Don’t have to, baby” Logan chuckled, moving his mouth to suck onto other spots on Oscar’s neck and throat

“I-I need to…” Oscar panted, his hips slowly grinding against Logan’s thigh

“Mhm. I know, baby” Logan leaned back, looking up at Oscar, biting his bottom lip softly, helping Oscar move his hips

Oscar moaned softly when he ground against Logan’s thigh just right

Logan’s name fell off of Oscar’s tongue like a prayer- until they heard Lando’s door open and close, meaning Lando had walked into the room

Oscar covered his mouth with his hand, knowing Lando could hear him if he didn’t

“No, no. None of that, baby” Logan chuckled, removing Oscar’s hand, pressing his hips further down against his thigh, making him moan loudly

“Fuck, Loges. Please, don’t” Oscar begged quietly “It’s so embarrassing if everyone hears” He whimpered softly

“Don’t really give a fuck” Logan hummed “You’re mine, and I’m gonna make sure everyone knows” He almost growled, moving Oscar at a faster and harder pace, Oscar moaning louder and louder the further he got to his orgasm

“My name, baby” Logan smacked Oscar’s ass softly

“Logan” Oscar moaned out, his hands digging into Logan’s shoulders

“That’s it, baby” Logan chuckled softly, hearing Lando put on loud music to cover their sounds “Look like he got the message”

“Fucking idiot” Oscar moaned into Logan’s neck, his body shaking slightly at how close he were to the edge

“You love me anyways” Logan chuckled, hands digging into Oscar’s hips

“Mhm. F-fuck, fuck. Logan” Oscar moaned; the only warning Logan got before Oscar came into his briefs, his body shaking and his breathing heavy

“Lando is actually kind pretty” Oscar panted into Logan’s neck, earning him a soft smack on the ass, causing him to yelp softly “But you know I prefer blonds” He chuckled, kissing Logan softly on the neck

“We’re not 13 anymore, you didn’t have to mark me” Oscar whined softly, leaning back to look down at Logan

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it” Logan hummed, kissing softly over one of the hickeys

[qdbs-writes]

Okay. Kenshi hanzo Takeda and Liu Kang with an s/o who is secretly a villain pt2? But it turns out s/o was being controlled?

I'm so sorry this took so long, it took me a while to find the first post, but here is part 1

MK Lads x Secret-Villain Reader Part 2

Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion)

Whether or not you were able to communicate that you were being controlled previously doesn't matter, in a fit of grief and desperation Hanzo works it out himself.

After revealing yourself as a villain, Hanzo would've ended your relationship. It took several months for him to work out what was happening to you, but when he finds out, he realizes that he can't rest until you're free.

Hanzo will lift any curse or evil magic-doer who was controlling you to their own ends and will check on you as the spell wears off to make sure you're all right.

Once he's confirmed that you are well, he will leave politely, making sure not to overstay his welcome. If you loved him once, you might love him again, but Hanzo believes you should take the time to re-establish your life and individuality before starting a relationship again.

Liu Kang

Once it's revealed that your villainous actions were the result of some sort of mind control, Kang takes this as a sign, a sign that he was never wrong about you, that you truly never would've done those cruel and evil things.

But he's aware of how precarious the situation is, he can't give away that he's aware of you being controlled, lest the puppet master behind your deeds tries to stop him by using you.

So he stays as close to you as possible, acting completely happy and content, trying to gather any information that he can so that he can save you. He'll realize that you keep making excuses to go somewhere, to a location that you would never specify. Whenever Kang stops you, you are quick to fly into a rage that seemed to hide desperation.

Kang takes this as another sign and lets you leave. Little do you or your puppet master know that Kang followed you in secret, in hopes that you would lead him right to the source of evil that plagued you.

Kenshi

Thankfully for you, Kenshi is able to work out you are being controlled, just as your villainy was revealed. Despite his heartbreak, things weren't adding up.

There were continuous unexplained shifts in your thought patterns, shifts that couldn't be explained by even the most bizarre brain waves.

Despite his pain, Kenshi decides it's not worth killing you, not yet at least. So he'll tie you up and take you on a little journey, to find whatever was causing your mind to completely flip.

Through his own psychic abilities, Kenshi is able to identify the source of your disturbance, eliminating it permanently. While your mind is stable, Kenshi needs more time to trust you again before letting his guard down once more.

Takeda Takahashi

So none of your villainy was willing and you were actually being controlled this entire time? Oh thank the gods, Takeda is relieved! He wants to say that he knew it wasn't really you all along, but that's a lie, he really had his doubts.

He hopes that what/whoever is controlling you is physical so he can cut them up into tiny, screaming pieces.

Turns out it was some magic asshole who was making you do all those evil things. So Takeda goes off on a noble quest to hack that fucker up, and at this point he's too pissed off to listen to any excuses magic fucker might have.

Don't be surprised if he returns to you on horseback, saving you from an evildoer has got him feeling all knightly and romantic.

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 5

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: none really in this chapter other then the use of religion

Chapter Index Here

This chapter is slightly a filler but it’s also getting everything ready for the next one which is going to be long! A lot is a bout to happen haha so consider this the calm before the storm! I’m going to try and get chapter 6 out asap!

Tags: @Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @thefallennightmare @calleyx13 @english-fucker @darling-millicent-aubrey @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsword @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran

MASTERLIST

It had been a week since the last lot of killings.

And you were no closer to catching the killer than you were at the beginning. It was now starting to take its toll on you.

The sleepless nights due to your mind not being able to shut off or the nightmares of the cases that plagued you. You sat up for hours going over every photo, every detail, playing the killers messages again and again.

The messages had started to come here and there, from him, taunting you.

‘Come on detective Y/L/N, you can do better then this’

‘I expected so much better from you my little angel’

‘Only a handful left to go…’

Or your personal favourite….

‘We live in a world filled with lawlessness. In most societies, murder, theft, adultery, deceit and perversity are commonplace. Many, even in religious communities and among human behavioral specialists, scoff at the idea of moral absolutes that apply universally. One man's morality, it is believed, is another man's immorality. What seems unnatural and abnormal to one is considered perfectly normal and natural for another.’

It made your blood boil how he mocked you, how he somehow had your personal number and yet he couldn’t be traced.

The press were having a field day with this, it was front page news and everyone was talking about it. People were too frightened to go out after dark or walk alone because they were terrified that the ‘10 commandments killer’ would find them and use them in his next masterpiece.

“Masterpiece….thats pretty much how he views it….he’s the artist and those people the art….its sick but he’s definitely a perfectionist”

You rested your head into your hands, not ready to face the day but you knew you had no choice.

Noah had been by your side near enough the entire time, helping you go over the case, finding new leads, dealing with people when you didn’t have the energy. Noah had even been round your apartment a few times with food just to make sure you’re eating, all the while saying that ‘if anyone could crack this case then it would be you’

He was definitely becoming a comfort to you, helping take the pressure off. You had learnt a lot about him as well, about how he originally dreamed of being in a band and that he played the guitar, how he detests subway (you learnt that when you suggested it for lunch and it was very quickly shut down) how he’s an animal lover and plays video games in his spare time.

You couldn’t help but want to know more about him and you found his laugh completely infectious. But you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted by him, it wouldn’t help the case at all.

“Back to it girl….no more day dreaming”

You walked over to your team of officers and they all looked up ready for your instructions, you noticed Noah wasn’t present so assumed he was doing another job so you decided to carry on without him.

“Right, I know it’s been tough and we haven’t had a new lead, however I now believe it’s time to think outside the box.”

“Detective?” One of the officers had a confused look on his face.

“I’ve been thinking that we need to widen our search, who’s to say that the killings started in LA? For all we know, this guy could have moved around, killed before but has never been caught. I know it will take time but I need you all to be cross referencing all the recent and older cold cases from the last year or so, further back if necessary but we need to rule out that he’s not killed before.”

“But that could take weeks!”

You looked over at Eddie Blake, an officer about your age or slightly older, he’d been making it known to you all week that he wasn’t happy with all of your decisions, he’d make a comment here or there or simply contradict you in from of the other officers. It was getting very tiresome.

“Yes officer Blake, that’s why I’m asking now”

He didn’t look happy.

“Well wouldn’t our time be better spent trying to solve this case instead of wasting time looking around other states when you have no reason or lead other than a hunch?”

“You’ll do what I ask you to do, understood?” You couldn’t help but snap at Eddie, his constant attitude was grating on you.

You took in a deep breath and looked up to see your boss, sergeant Matthews standing in the doorway, he nodded his head to your office and you knew you were in for a stern word.

“I’m sorry, look I know this has been hard but I really do think we need to rule out all possibilities. So everyone please get to it, it will be tedious but it could pay off in the long run. As you were”

You walked off to your office where Matthews was waiting.

“I’m sorry sir, I shouldn’t have snapped at officer Blake like that”

“No you shouldn’t however I’m more concerned about you Y/L/N. No offence but you look like shit”

You let out a giggle at his bluntness.

“Thanks”

“I just mean that you look like you need a break, maybe this case is too much for you. I can have you signed off for a bit and let detective Davis take over for a whi…”

“NO!….I mean, no thank you sir, I’m perfectly fine, just need to lay off the coffee I imagine”

Sergeant Matthews gave you a look that clearly said he didn’t believe your words.

“Running yourself into the ground isn’t going to help anyone, certainly not the victims or their families. And a case like this, no one would judge you if it was becoming too much”

You sighed as you looked around the room.

“Sir I don’t deny that I could definitely use some more sleep but I promise, I’m fine to carry on, I need to carry on! I feel we are so close to a proper lead.”

“Alright. I’ll keep you on for now detective Y/L/N but one more incident and I’ll take you off the case”

With that sergeant Matthews left your office, you sat down at your desk and put your head into your hands, tears brimming in your eyes but you refused to let them fall.

Knock, knock

You looked up to see Noah stood there looking concerned.

“Are you ok?”

You nodded “yeah….no, not really. Sergeant Matthews thinks that I might need a break from the case…he wanted to remove me from it”

Noah came and sat next to you.

“Well then he’s stupid, no one would ever have connected half the leads together that you have, you’re the person thats actually found any answers and has the biggest chance of catching the sick fuck who’s doing this?”

You smiled at Noah, he always knew what to say to make you feel better.

“Thanks Noah, I’m sure that…”

“Don’t even try and say that someone else could be as good, because it’s simply not true, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever known…and the most beautiful”

You felt your cheeks go warm at Noah’s compliment, you stared into his brown eyes and smiled slightly.

“And you’re the biggest charmer I’ve ever known”

“It’s a gift”

You giggled and turned away to pick up some files, I need some of these copied, fancy a walk down the hall?”

Noah smiled and stood up “And they say this job isn’t exciting”

You both walked in a comfortable silence out of your office, you had definitely become more comfortable around Noah, you’d be lying if you said you wasn’t attracted to him, he was gorgeous, a blind man could see that, and the odd dream of him was still happening here and there. However you still refused to act on anything, you needed to stay focused.

As you went to turn a corner you suddenly heard Eddie Blake talking to someone.

“All I’m saying is that clearly detective Y/L/N isn’t up for the job, have you seen her recently? She looks like she’s not slept in weeks and isn’t making the right decisions. If I had her position, I’d be doing things so differently, maybe then we’d actually be getting somewhere in this case”

His voice got lower and lower to signify he was walking away with whoever he was talking to, the knot in stomach was very present and the anger was rising in your chest.

“Who the hell does he think he is? I’m going to go talk to him about respecting his superiors”

You grabbed onto Noah’s arm.

“No Noah it’s ok, let him go, he’s just jealous and mouthing off, he’s wanted my job for a while now and clearly doesn’t like how a woman got the position over him”

“Well maybe if he could actually put two brain cells together then he’d get the job”

••••••

Later that evening, after a fairly uneventful day, you found yourself sitting with Noah in your apartment, food long been eaten and you had a drink in your hands, a scene that felt very familiar but this time, you were definitely more relaxed.

“So tell me more about you Noah, what’s something that not many people know about?”

Noah laughed slightly.

“Well I doubt many at the office would know but I’m a pretty big anime fan”

You hadn’t missed that you were both sat close to each other again, this wasn’t unusual for you now, his presence was very comforting.

“Oh really? That your big secret eh?”

You laughed with him and took another slip of your drink.

“Oh I’m sure there are more things, I just can’t think of them at the moment”

“So what’s one of your favourite anime’s then?”

Noah sat back and had a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Got to be death note, it’s a classic and so good!”

You shook your head. “Nope, never heard of it”

Noah rested his arm across the back of the sofa and leaned back more while drinking from his own wine glass.

“Fancy giving it a go? It’s about a high school student who is able to kill anyone in the world with a notebook called the death note which belongs to a shinigami, a god of death. However Light only kills criminals as he believes they truly deserve it, all the while he is being hunted down by L the detective who’s incredibly intelligent. It’s a really good show”

You nodded.

“It does sound interesting, so Light is a bad guy then?”

“Well that’s the grey area, is he truly bad if he’s getting rid of the criminals or is he the hero?”

You shook your head and finished your second glass of wine.

“No one has the right to play god”

“Well how about I put it on and you can decide for yourself”

You smiled and refilled your glass.

“Sure, why not”

Noah found death note and got the first episode up, it certainly peaked your interest and had you making the odd comment here or there.

You felt yourself becoming even more relaxed as you watched the tv, your wine long forgotten about on the table and eventually you didn’t realise it, but you nodded off on Noah’s shoulder, the lack of sleep finally catching up to you.

Chapter 6

[stellocchia]

I'm in love with the idea of Killer's stages talking with one another (pretty sure they don't canonically do so, but I don't care).

That said, in my mind most of their conversations boil down to One and Two throwing subtle jabs at each other (with One usually remarking on Two's untrustworthy nature, their fake politeness, and their cold demeanor; and Two mocking One for his emotionality, the guilt and remorse that haunt him, and that, despite all of his best efforts, he still hasn't managed to become Color's favorite) and Three yelling in frustration in the background because none of these bitches are doing some proper maintenance.

Personally, I also think that Four is way too detached from itself to be able to hear or communicate with the others. It's living in its own little island, only ever coming into existence when all other defensive strategies have already failed.

Anyway, the only thing that One, Two, and Three can agree on is that any time Delta is around their number one priority is to mess with him.

Delta walks into the room and, for just one moment, Killer's mind goes blissfully silent. And then at once all thee of those fuckers start throwing ideas at each other on how to prank him. He is the one unifying factor.

You'd expect Color to serve that purpose, but no. One and Two are way too busy being jealous of each other when he's involved. And Three is still really confused by his lack of aggression. I'm sure it will figure out how it feels about it one day, but that's definitely not gonna be anytime soon...

[trans-queen-administrator]

Taylor being paranoid about her passenger is such a fun character trait. Like none of her friends really seemed to give much of a shit when they learned about passengers from Bonesaw, but Taylor consistently notes the times her passenger acted without her consent, she tries to talk with it, communicate with it, just anything to learn what this thing that can control her without her say wants with her. One of my favorite little details is that during the timeskip this was the focus of a lot of her therapy sessions with Yamada, trying methods like hypnosis to communicate. I think part of it is that she's inherently just paranoid about the fact that this thing is helping her sometimes and she doesn't know why and she HAS to figure it out because no one would help out of the kindness of their heart, and another part is just that she can't bear to not be in control and this is something that threatens that in a very ominous way.

Another aspect of her paranoia towards her passenger is that she doesn't want to take blame for her own actions I think. During the Behemoth fight when her ally tried to shoot Phil Sē, she pulled the gun off target with silk and got him killed. She's the one who pulled the string, but because she's genuinely unsure if it was her being wary or her passenger setting up the string she settles on the second option because it absolves her of the possible blame or need to admit she's paranoid and ready to betray people in an instance. When Glenn shows her the video of her being the most terrifying fucker in existence she ignores how horrifying she is and fixated on how her passenger moved her, and then she doesn't have to think about the fact that she'd fit right into the ranks of the Slaughterhouse Nine because well, she can blame her passenger and focus on that instead. This applies to other people too, she sees Lung not using his power and thinks that maybe he's concerned about his passenger like she is. She projects hard onto Sophia in my opinion when she says that she got violent because of her passenger. If this person she doesn't like isn't to blame for everything she inflicted on Taylor, the surely Taylor can't be blamed for the violent steps she took to take over a city. It's another way she rationalizes everything to herself, if something is so bad that she can't justify it immediately there's always the excuse of "my passenger made me do it." But crucially, Taylor ends up being aware of the fact that she's doing this during Gold Morning.

And I think it's really good that this is something she grows and accepts about herself. It's wonderful growth for a character who's so often too stubborn to move herself forward. She's generally more in touch with her passenger during Gold Morning, like the time when she thinks that her and her passenger were in agreement in wanting to hurt Scion on the oil rig. No one else in Worm really seems to accept their passengers, Riley is questioning how much of herself has been subsumed by it, Eidolon is always annoyed it doesn't give what he wants, and most other people don't even know about them. But Taylor forms a bit of a symbiosis with hers after a long time rejecting it at every turn. I think this quote really sums up her feelings towards the end.

And by towards the end I mean like, at the very end, because immediately after this thought she becomes Khepri, and yet another fucking theme and character trait cumulates and reaches its peak with Speck. God damn what a good arc. The blur between Taylor and her passenger that she always feared is finally an actual thing consuming her, and she can finally communicate with her passenger as well. I do wonder what this is like on her passengers end. It's clearly down for the idea of killing its maker, and it's heavily implied that her passenger does care and doesn't want to actually leave Taylor as a husk (too lazy to get the quote because I've been typing for 45 minutes but Contessa remarks upon the administrator claiming everything about her until there's nothing left and she feels fear that she thinks is from both her and her passenger. 30.7 I think, near the end). But there's still so much about Taylor's passenger that's unknown. Was communication something it may have wanted when Taylor kept trying to communicate, but doing so required punching holes in the connection that would lead to more bleed through and functionally destroy its host? Did it slowly grow to care for Taylor more than the cycle, or was it always wanting to fight Scion? Did Taylor's autistic swag convince a multidimensional alien made of crystal to rebel? Is Queen Administrator trans? Idk how to end this post if it's not obvious, sorry.

[falsemilkbun]

I did all 20 of @taylortut 's

20 BLORBO/OC WHUMP/ H/C ASKS

for both Mithrun and Kabru from Dungeon Meshi, because I have low-key lurked the community for a while and long to reveal my madness, and also I want to spread the 'ganda about my perfect boys before season 2 of the anime drops. Evidence of my illness is below the cut.

Also parts of this are NWS and there's violence including passing mention of sexual violence so like please. There's also visual depictions of stuff like self harm. I've warned you.

BILL, STAY OUT.

What appeals to you about this character?

Mithrun: Without spoiling too much, I'd say the draw for me is that he's a character who's at once very capable and very vulnerable. He's a powerful magic user with a lot of (terrible) life experiences, but he's also afflicted with a condition that makes it necessary for him to have what amounts to a caretaker whenever he's not doing rote daily routine stuff. Also, he's a tiny little elf, which is always a plus.

Also, he looks like D&D Gilbert, which is Funny To Me.

Kabru: The son-boy! The one through whom I recognize the self through the other! I love that he's a chronic manager of others' emotions, and a doting caretaker to Mithrun, and also sometimes a ruthless killer.

I've observed this isn't a super beloved character trait of his, but I maintain that it whips ass. He's a character of contrasts like Mithrun is, being very much invested in humans and also willing to rip someone apart.

Also, he looks like D&D Serge, which is Funny To Me.

What's your least favorite aspect of this character?

Both: None! I like that Kabru will stab a fucker, I like that Mithrun is very capable of being a bitch, I like that they both have worldviews informed by their upbringings and think/say things about others that aren't charitable or fair, I love my boys.

What's your favorite canon moment with this character?

God. They have many good moments individually and together, but like. The #1 one, as well as the one most relevant to this questionairre, is this. I goof about it a lot, but it's so tender and the implications are so striking. Kabru is actually treating him like a person. I consider this scene a companion to an earlier one, when they first meet and Mithrun actually treats Kabru like an adult and a peer, which elves generally don't.

Do you have a favorite fic for this character?

GOD. So many of them are so good, we really do monopolize the biggest crinkliest brains, but the one I'm FERAL about right now is The Chameleon by threesmallcrows. Fuck. Me. Up. It's an AU, too, a gothis horror/romance one, so one could if one wanted just eat it right up even if you've only seen these two on screen for two minutes.

What's your favorite whump trope to use for this character and why?

Individually: Mithrun: Exhaustion or illness or anything that requires him to be toted around like a stupid little baby and handled delicately. I just like him being spoiled, which is a hideous contrast to what I'm gonna type in a minute wwww

Kabru: Persevering through injury, I think. He's a very purpose-driven person, and I think him toughing it out because he absolutely has to is very appealing. He can collapse and be coddled later, it's fine.

Jointly: *throws up my fucking hands* (Threats of) noncon against Mithrun while Kabru is incapacitated. Sorry. It just has juice. Nothing even has to Happen, it can be as inoffensive as someone manhandling him wrong or threatening him. My brain is simple and I like more reasons for Kabru to stab people and for Mithrun to be miserable. SOZ.

Whose relationship with this character is your favorite, shipping or otherwise?

*gestures at entire post* WHAT DO YOU THINK.

Whose relationship with this character is your least favorite?

Mithrun: Milsiril, she very much was ready to murder him when he was at his most vulnerable because she decided his life wouldn't be worth living.

Kabru: ...Nay, I shan't say it.

Describe your ideal whump scenario for this character.

The main antagonist possessing Another Chara's body and threatening Mithrun while Kabru is temporarily restrained. I. Listen.

No, there's no adequate defense. It's just exciting! It's got juice, to me! I like peril, I like Literalizing, I like protective fury. Rage is a kind of distress!

Do you have headcanons for this character, if they're not an OC?

Mithrun: I write him as something that readers would describe as intersex if they saw it IRL, but it's not treated that way and doesn't work in a way that would be realistic if that's what I was trying to do. I'm not doing realism, I'm doing an artistic expression of sex and gender variety in a fantasy race that's explicitly very androgynous already. Also it's fun.

Kabru: That he's legally adopted. Way less interesting.

What would devastate them the most, emotionally speaking?

BESIDES THE ABOVE?

Mithrun: Rejection or perceived rejection, canonically. If he were to perceive someone as being tired of him or sick of him and discarding him, he'd be Very Upset.

Kabru: He's majorly motivated by loss and a sense of responsibility, so losing someone he loves to violence when he feels he could have prevented it would break him pretty bad.

If it's not a spoiler, what's the worst thing that's ever happened to them?

It is a spoiler, so: Plenty.

How do they act when sick/injured? Is it obvious or do they hide it well?

Honestly they both kind of keep on keeping on until they Drop or someone stops them.

What are their coping mechanisms, good and bad?

Mithrun: Relies on memories of how he was before he was so severely traumatized in order to make what are usually constructive decisions about what to do. I get the impression he becomes less able to do this in fraught situations, though.

Kabru: Mentally recites rote facts to himself to persevere through unpleasant situations.

How is their mental health, generally speaking?

Could be better. They're doing their best though.

Who do you like to see hurting them, if anyone?

DESPITE WHAT I'VE WRITTEN ABOVE I'm not super crazy about them being hurt. I guess 'baddies, generally' because while I like them in peril I'm not super specific about it.

Who do you like to see caring for them, if anyone?

Both: Each other, and also the stupid poultry AKA the gaggle of freaks who follow Mithrun around. I just love their various dynamics. Pattadol is very appealing platonically, for reasons.

What do they do to self-soothe when they're not feeling well?

They don't, it's an established problem. Kabru is literally so terrible at taking care of himself (but not others, he's very attentive to other people) that his landlord cleans his room for him out of either pity or necessity.

Are they good at taking care of themselves or do they need help?

Buddy they do it worse than anyone's ever done it.

Do they have old scars, physical or otherwise?

fffff

Mithrun is missing his right eye and half the outer structure of both ears after the incident that traumatized him. He's extensively scarred from having compulsively harmed himself during his recovery, as well as from having been restrained so that he wouldn't do that.

Kabru seems fine physically, but they're both PTSD disasters that present it differently.

Anything else you'd like to share about them I haven't asked?

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.....................

[mamawasatesttube]

Please tell us more about the Selkie au 👀

I wanna know everything. What’s the significance of the pelt being worn by Tim? What are the backstories?

YEAH!!!! okay so a bit of background: selkies are critters from celtic/norse mythos. they are seal-human shapeshifters, who can change form by removing or wearing their sealskins; the most common tales involve fishermen stealing a selkie woman's sealskin cloak to entrap her as his wife, despite her yearning to return to the sea.

SO, with that being said:

kryptonians are selkies!!!

kon is created by cadmus labs and lex luthor. he doesn't even know the significance of his coat; it's kept locked away except for when he gets it for promotional photoshoots. he doesn't realize it has anything to do with why he's always discontented and afflicted with varying bouts of malaise.

when clark finds out - when he can see this physical, material evidence of kon's mistreatment - he's beyond horrified and enraged. they're violating a child, so profoundly that he doesn't even realize he's being violated, and he cannot let that stand.

lois, fully human but VERY protective of her husband and by extension all selkies: LET ME AT HIM. LET ME AT LUTHOR IM GONNA RIP HIS FACE OFF

clark, holding her off the ground: dearest, please. i need you to stay calm... and write the most damning exposé the planet has ever seen.

lois: .......FINE. but then YOU better rip that bald fucker's face off, you hear me?

clark comes home with kon in tow, uncharacteristically quiet and subdued. his eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks blotchy, but lois doesn't say a word about it. she lets him sit curled up in the corner of the sofa, clutching his pelt around himself tight enough to make himself look small, and thinks he looks more like a child than he ever has before.

fast forward a couple years. kon has found his place in the family; jon in particular adores him. he's gotten kind of jaded and unhappy about his whole history; he's seen clark leave his sealskin around the house, has even seen lois wear it, but he's kept his hidden away in his room ever since that first day, except for when he's wearing it himself. clark, lois, and ma never touch it; the only one allowed to is jon, and even he knows not to push if kon's feeling antsy.

tim is kon's bestie. all the core four are besties. but none of them know the selkie secret - it's very well-guarded. they just know kon is a weirdo who really loves to take long walks on the beach and gaze at the ocean.

one day, he is on a long walk by the marina with tim. tim, somehow or other, falls into the water in january. he gets out quickly, of course, but it's cold and he's wet and kon really doesn't want him to get hypothermia, so--

he shrugs the sealskin coat off his own shoulders and wraps it around tim's, and tells him c'mon, let's get back to the house.

they go back to the house.

they walk in the door.

tim is wearing kon's coat.

tim. is WEARING. KON'S COAT.

kon, who barely even tolerates his beloved baby brother touching his coat, because he was so violated and taken advantage of in his earliest days!!!!

TIM IS WEARING KON'S!!! COAT!!!!!

clark hold her coffee. lois is about to whip out her shotgun.

and that's how we get the scene @cowboysorceror drew <3 clark is extremely concerned; lois is 👌 THIS CLOSE to a mama bear rampage, tim is freezing, and kon is like. well. this sure is happening!

other quick notes, in part brainstormed with beckett and also with my bestie @adjit in various dms:

kon doesn't, like, LOVE this whole scenario, but frankly, he's more worried about tim than he is upset about his coat. he knows tim would never use it to hurt him, to control him, to own him; he trusts tim. simple as that!

it's kind of hard to communicate this to clark and lois in a couple of quick facial expressions over tim's head, but he manages.

they get tim bundled into a hot shower and warm, dry clothes, etc. he's coming back downstairs from kon's room, afterwards, and pauses on his silent feet when he overhears his name in conversation.

"no, it's not--i'm fine, i promise," kon is saying. "tim's not like--tim wouldn't hurt me. i know he wouldn't. you don't gotta worry."

huh, tim thinks. he's pretty observant, not that he needed to be to notice the way clark and lois stared at him and kon earlier. clearly, the jacket is significant; he knows clark and jon have matching ones. maybe it's a family thing?

sounds like kon had some kind of shitty ex, and... they got worried about him getting into a relationship again?

well. no need to worry about that! he immediately resolves that he will put their worries at rest. he Will be the best boyfriend kon has EVER had.

like, they aren't dating (yet), but, uh, you know. semantics. details.

(he doesn't find out the actual secret until later. when he finally realizes what this meant, that kon trusted him with his personhood, he. well, he's not crying, but he does get this funny tug in his chest and he really, really has to go hug kon for a long time.)