#revived also still slaps too

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Since you've discussed your favorite parts of ep. 7, I'd like to know your biggest criticisms of it & how you would've addressed them.

[Referencing this post!]

*raises finger* (my lawyer pulls me away)

Here’s how I would change the ending (while still staying within the Disney + mobile gacha game restraints and sticking with the themes + patterns established by other OBs):

Rework all the dreams. Every single last one. I can’t count the number of issues I have with them. Between the inconsistent pacing (4-35 parts per boy), the lack of urgency, extra fat (irrelevant convos), frequent contradictory explanations of the dreams, and the on-the-nose announcements of how each boy has changed, these are horribly inefficient vehicles for storytelling and need to be significantly tightened. Maybe even consider cutting out all of them except Adeuce and the OB boys; make the rest optional or side missions or something.

Between each dorm’s dreams, cut back to Malleus and Lilia so they at least STAY relevant for a book that is supposedly about Diasomnia. Let us know what Malleus’s current state of mind is, have Lilia reflect on what it’s like to see Malleus twisted into… this. Something, anything.

Make the explanation for the dreams consistent. Instead of changing the explanation or slapping on new details every other update, just claim right from the get-go that dreams tend to pull from a dreamer’s wishes/desires but it’s unknown how the dream worlds will actually be interpreted or how they’ll interact with Malleus’s magic since each person is so different. You can still have the dreams with deeper hidden meanings, but avoid overcomplicating the logic governing dreams in the first place.

Have Lilia join up with us in the dream world. Maybe a scene where Ortho or Idia connects the dots on his identity and contacts Lilia using his Muscle Red gaming ID tag in the dream world. Lilia receives his invite that way and joins us for the battle maps + help Silver and Sebek train with their new equipment. You can also potentially use this section to have Silver and Lilia reconcile over Lilia keeping secrets from him.

Like how Sebek had moments with the first years in their dreams, give Silver moments in which he can reflect on his relationship with + thoughts on the Dawn Knight. It feels a little strange to me that we went from emotional breakdown learning about his lineage to… thanking the Dawn Knight for allowing him to meet Likia at the end??? Like it feels like we missed the middle part of that development. We never got to hear his inner thoughts about the ordeal or how he comes to terms with it. For something so heavy, you’d think there would be more screen time dedicated to that??

The sword strikes Malleus, which brings him back to his senses but doesn’t break the horn. (This is just a personal dislike thing; it’s uncomfortable for me because it inevitably reminds me of poor injured animals and that’s not exactly… fun 💦)

Lilia still gets in the way of Malleus and Silver’s final stand-off, but rather than dying, he’s in critical condition and is in very real danger of dying.

Have Malleus willingly sacrifice a significant chunk of his magic (since he has all that excess from the senators blessing him + Malleus even canonically says he’ll give up his wings, his lifespan, etc.) to bring back Lilia from the brink. This would serve multiple purposes: 1) permanently power cap Malleus, 2) show him that his previous actions actually hurt Lilia but he also has the power to do good too (so he’s not filled with complete despair at the end), 3) rids him of the excess power he didn’t ask for, so now he’s more “approachable” to people, 4) doesn’t bring up potential issues with reviving the dead, since this could be categorized as ultra powerful healing magic, and 5) parallels the self-sacrifice Lilia had for him, that Silver had for Lilia, etc.

Honestly, I think Lilia should move away to the Land of Crimson Long to retire instead of regaining his magic and returning to NRC as a student. That way, Malleus isn’t the “special” OB boy that doesn’t have to still deal with the thing he OB’d over. Have it end on a hopeful note though, like have Idia or Lilia showing Malleus how to text (which is now more feasible due to Malleus’s reduced power) so he can always reach out to Lilia at a moment’s notice. This also fits in with the theme of keeping connected.

Alternative scenario to the previous point: have Lilia be taken away to urgent care and/or in a coma for a while. Let Malleus stew with the weight of what he did. Then maybe he + Diasomnia are called in when Lilia’s unstable and this might be good-bye 💦 Idk, at least then Lilia wouldn’t be dead for all of 5 seconds and Malleus would actually have a period where he’s forced to sit and reflect on what he did. Worrying and praying that Lilia will be saved, promising to the stars that he’ll never act out again if they just save Lilia. (You can still have your power of love saves him moment here!)

Following the OB, give a more balanced view of the repercussions of Malleus’s OB. Tell us how other nations are reacting, show us that some people are suspicious of him + need extra help recovering after the fact (in addition to people who love his UM and want to stay in there longer), etc. The current version works overtime to reassure us that there are zero negative (or even dubious) consequences when, logically, there would be at least some. This includes the main cast. Realistically speaking, they’d at least have some reservations or complicated feelings revolving around what happened in their dreams and how they feel seeing Malleus return. Ultimately, they’d welcome him back but some of them would still snark a bit while others are more forgiving (depends on the character; not all of them would react the same way).

We can still have the party + knighting ceremony at the end, but include some kind of magical broadcast or something where Malleus apologizes to all of Twisted Wonderland and lets them know what steps he intends to take to make amends moving forward. In the original, he only apologized to NRC, which I feel doesn’t cover the scope of the lives he could have affected. And if you’re going to have the other OB boys recite their flaws + how pathetic they were wallowing in darkness + how they’ve changed/are better than that now, grant Malleus that same opportunity here. It would also be great if he could go around and acknowledge the important people in his life, including classmates, to show us that he truly recognizes the value in these connections. I do, however, want to caution: the speech shouldn’t sound like Malleus speedran a character arc and is now without flaws. Malleus should also have some lines where he admits he’s imperfect and may falter, and if that’s the case, then he trusts us to admonish him and set him on the right path. This would show us that he’s willing to give up control to others and that he’s being more receptive to criticism.

Add a nod to Raverne at the end??? Like maybe Malleus wonders where his father is and we get some explanation as to why he didn’t show up in the Castle Wildrose memories but his mom did.

I don't think I actually made many changes here; most of the plot points remain, just change the execution and what the focus is on.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend's Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo-your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there's no escaping Chris- or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: this story includes very toxic and abusive behavior. none of the actions or words in this series are justified and are written exclusively for entertainment purposes only. under no circumstances are they personally associated with chris other than just using him as the main character. read at your own discretion. now that that is cleared up, there will be filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 4k

CHAPTER SIX:

Two Months Later

The cycle never ended. If anything it got worse. Chris pulled you in, made you believe you were something to him, only to push you away the second you got too close. And the worst part? You let him. Over and over and over again.

Some days, he was all over you- his hands on your waist, his lips ghosting over your skin, whispering things that made you forget everything except him. And then, the next day, he’d act like you barely existed. He’d brush past you without a word, act cold, distant, and cruel, as if the night before never happened. And every time you told yourself you wouldn’t fall for it again, that you’d shut him out, he’d find a way back in.

It was exhausting. It was toxic. And yet, you couldn’t stop.

To make matters worse, the triplets’ channel had blown up. In just two months, they’d gained over 20,000 subscribers, and their videos were pulling in thousands of views daily. With their rapid growth, filming had become their priority- meaning your apartment had basically turned into their second home.

Matt had even moved in with you and Ava, claiming he “practically lived here anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. He and Ava were inseparable, and while you loved having him around, it also meant dealing with the other side of their relationship- the constant sex, the loud giggles coming from her bedroom at ungodly hours, and the way they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Chris, of course, was around even more now because of it. Between filming, editing, and brainstorming video ideas, he was constantly in your space, constantly finding new ways to get under your skin.

Right now, the living room was a mess of cameras, lighting stands, and random props as the boys set up for another video.

“You’re sure this is okay?” Nick asked, adjusting the camera on its tripod. “We don’t wanna be in your way, Y/N.”

You scoffed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Nick, you guys have basically been living here for weeks. I think we passed the ‘in my way’ phase a long time ago.”

He grinned. “Fair enough.”

Matt jogged into the room, wrapping an arm around Ava’s waist and spinning her in a quick circle before setting her down with a loud kiss. She giggled, slapping his chest playfully, and you rolled your eyes.

“You two make me sick,” you muttered.

“You’re just jealous,” Ava shot back, smirking.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, you felt it- Chris’s presence behind you. Close. Too close.

“You should be jealous,” he murmured in your ear, his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “They have their whole life planned out and you? You’re just my bitch.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in, a familiar frustration bubbling to the surface. You turned to face him, but he was already walking away, joining Matt and Nick by the camera, acting as if he hadn’t just whispered something that would sit in your head all night.

This was how it always was. He got under your skin, made sure you knew he was in control, and then left you stewing in it.

You clenched your jaw, exhaling sharply as you grabbed a pepsi from the fridge. If this was your life now- Chris everywhere, pushing and pulling, never letting you breathe- you were going to have to figure out how to survive it.

Even if it meant pretending he didn’t affect you. Even if it meant lying to yourself every single day.

The video wrapped up after another chaotic hour of filming, and soon enough, everyone collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but still buzzing with leftover energy. You sat wedged between Ava and Nick, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as the boys talked about their next upload.

Chris was sprawled on the other end of the couch, legs stretched out, his fingers lazily tapping against his thigh. The air between you was already tense- it always was- but tonight, there was something different, something thicker and heavier lingering between you.

Then, out of nowhere, Chris scoffed loudly, his eyes dragging over you with an expression you couldn’t quite place-but you knew it wasn’t good.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked suddenly, his tone dripping with amusement and something sharper, something meant to cut.

Your head snapped up, your stomach twisting immediately. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at your oversized hoodie and bike shorts, his smirk deepening. “Did you gain weight or something?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the room went still. Ava and Matt were still laughing about something, not fully tuned into the conversation yet, but Nick caught it. His head snapped toward Chris, his expression shifting into something wary.

You clenched your jaw, heat rising to your face. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Chris leaned back against the armrest, completely unfazed. “I mean, you just look… bigger. Maybe it’s the outfit.”

Something inside you snapped.

Before you could think, you were lunging over Ava, your hands flying toward him as pure rage overtook every rational thought. Ava yelped as you climbed over her, and before Chris could react, your palm connected with his cheek in a sharp slap that echoed through the apartment.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!” Matt barked, grabbing you before you could strike again.

Nick shot up from the couch, eyes wide. “What the hell is going on?”

Chris barely flinched from the slap, his jaw tightening as he wiped at his cheek. His expression was unreadable, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him. Matt still had his arms wrapped around you, keeping you from lunging again, but you shoved him off roughly, stepping back and breathing heavily.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” you spat, glaring down at Chris. “Your brother just called me fucking fat, that’s what’s fucking going on.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open, and Nick immediately turned to Chris, his face a mix of shock and disgust. “Dude, what?”

Chris just smirked, rubbing his jaw where you had slapped him. “You’re overreacting.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “Overreacting? That’s real fucking funny, considering you were telling me how much you loved my body when you were inside it the other night.”

The entire room went silent.

Ava’s head whipped toward you so fast you thought she might get whiplash. Matt and Nick both froze, their faces morphing from confusion to complete shock.

Chris’s smirk immediately disappeared, his entire body tensing. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself off the couch.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped, his voice low, dangerous.

He took a step toward you, and you squared your shoulders, refusing to back down.

Matt and Nick immediately jumped up, stepping between the two of you as Ava stared in horror, trying to process what she had just heard.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Matt said, holding a hand out toward Chris. “What the fuck is happening right now?”

Nick’s eyes darted between the two of you, his face pinched in disbelief. “You guys have been sleeping together again?”

Chris didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes locked on you, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger rolling off him was palpable, but you weren’t scared. Not even a little. You were pissed.

You took a step closer, tilting your head up to meet his glare. “Nah,” you said, shaking your head. “Let him go. What’s he gonna do, huh?”

Chris took another step forward, getting right in your face, his chest barely brushing against yours.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t blink. You just smirked up at him, pushing every ounce of anger and adrenaline into your words.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice dripping with venom. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

Chris’s hand shot out before you could react, gripping your jaw roughly and tilting your face up toward him. His fingers pressed into your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the control he he had. His blue eyes burned into yours, his expression a mixture of fury and amusement.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening.

Ava gasped loudly from behind you. “Chris, what the fuck?”

Nick and Matt immediately moved forward, their faces twisting in anger.

“Whoa, dude,” Matt barked, pushing forward. “Fucking watch it.”

Before you could even react, Matt shoved him back roughly, breaking his hold on you. Chris stumbled, falling back onto the couch with a heavy thud. His smirk returned, but this time it was darker, more twisted.

“Nah,” Chris said, shaking his head as he adjusted his jaw, his eyes flicking back to you. “If we’re gonna go there…” He let his words hang in the air for a second before locking onto you with a look that sent your blood boiling. “Why don’t you tell them how much you like being manhandled by me?”

Your whole body tensed, your vision going red. Your heart pounded so loud you could barely hear Ava’s shocked gasp or Nick’s stunned, “What the fuck?”

Chris just smiled evilly, watching as the words settled over the room, as the weight of them crushed you under embarrassment and anger.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

You lunged for him again.

Chris didn’t even flinch, just smirked wider, waiting for you to completely snap.

But before you could reach him, Ava stepped in front of you, pressing her hands against your shoulders. “Okay, that’s enough- let’s just go upstairs.”

You shoved her hands off roughly. “Nah,” you spat, shaking your head, eyes locked on Chris. “He’s fucking getting it. I’m sick of his shit.”

Chris just sat there, leaning back lazily on the couch like he hadn’t just lit a match and dropped it on a pile of gasoline. His smirk never faltered. If anything, he looked thrilled by your reaction, like this was exactly what he wanted.

Matt and Nick both moved in again, their faces set in frustration, trying to de-escalate, but you didn’t care.

Your blood was boiling, your hands shaking with rage.

You were done playing his game. And if Chris wanted a war, he was fucking getting one.

Chris stood back up, towering over you, his smirk now fully twisted into something cruel and enjoying this. His blue eyes glinted with satisfaction, like he wanted you to react, wanted to break you down in front of everyone.

“Yeah,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Go ahead, Y/N. Tell them.” He took a step closer, tilting his head as his voice dropped into something even darker, something condescending. “Tell them how much you like me grabbing you like that. How you beg for me to be rougher. How you whine for me to touch you. How fucking pathetic you are for me.”

Your whole body went rigid, your breathing sharp and uneven as the words sank in, hot and humiliating.

Ava gasped again, but she didn’t step in this time.

Nick muttered, “Dude- what the actual fuck?”

Matt looked at you with a mixture of confusion and concern, but all you could hear was Chris. His words burned into your skin like fire, filling you with a rage so consuming you didn’t even think-

You lunged.

This time, no one was there to stop you.

Your hands collided with his chest as you shoved him back with everything you had. But Chris barely moved. He let out a low chuckle, his smirk deepening, enjoying your reaction.

Before you could strike again, his hands snatched your wrists, his grip strong and unyielding. In one swift movement, he twisted your arms together, locking them in place as you struggled.

“You never learn, do you?” he muttered, shaking his head as if he pitied you.

You thrashed against his grip, but he didn’t budge. His fingers tightened around your wrists, his hold completely inescapable. Your breathing was ragged, your chest rising and falling too fast, your anger consuming every rational thought.

Then, without another word, he started dragging you away.

“Chris, let go of me!” you yelled, twisting in his hold, but he didn’t stop.

“Woah- wait, wait, wait!” Matt’s voice rang out, his footsteps moving toward you both.

“Nah, what the fuck?” Nick snapped, his voice sharper now. “You can’t just take her like that!”

“Chris-” Ava started, stepping forward, her tone full of warning. “Bring my girl back- NOW!”

Chris ignored all of them. His grip on you stayed firm, his body radiating nothing but control as he dragged you toward the hallway, toward somewhere away from them. Somewhere just you and him.

Ava’s panicked voice cut through the tension. “Matt, do something!”

Matt didn’t hesitate. He surged forward and shoved Chris back- hard. Chris stumbled a step, his grip loosening on you just enough for you to break free.

Matt got right up in his face, his jaw clenched, eyes blazing. “Yo, you wanna put your hands on someone? Let’s go, kid.”

Chris let out a low, humorless laugh, rolling his shoulders like he was itching for a fight. “Are we really doing this right now?”

Matt didn’t back down. “Yeah, bud. Let’s do it.”

And then Matt swung.

His fist connected with Chris’s jaw in a clean, sharp hit that sent a crack through the room. Chris staggered back, his tongue swiping over the inside of his cheek where Matt had landed the punch.

But before he could retaliate, you moved.

“Matt, STOP!”

The words flew from your lips before you could even think. Without hesitation, you stepped between them, your hands pressing against Chris’s chest, keeping him from lunging forward.

Matt froze, his breathing ragged as he glared at you. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

Ava’s voice rang out next, full of disbelief. “Are you deadass? Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!”

You weren’t listening. Your hands instinctively moved to Chris’s face, checking where Matt had hit him, your fingers lightly grazing his jaw. “Are you okay?” you asked breathlessly, your voice softer, concerned.

Chris’s smirk returned- but this one was different. He tilted his head slightly, soaking in the way you were touching him, the way you had stepped in for him instead of letting Matt beat his ass.

And then, before anyone could react, he cupped your face in both hands, his touch almost gentle in contrast to the chaos around you. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, his fingers curling into your hair as he pulled you closer.

Then he leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.

The action sent shockwaves through the room.

Matt’s fists clenched at his sides. Ava’s jaw dropped in pure disbelief. Nick looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Chris’s arms wrapped around your waist, securing you against him as he turned his head just enough to glance at Matt, smug satisfaction dripping from every inch of him.

“See?” Chris murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear. “She’s fine.”

Then, his grip on you tightened slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he muttered the final nail in the coffin-

“We’re leaving.”

And he started guiding you toward the door, leaving nothing but silence, shock, and the unmistakable feeling that you had just chosen the wrong side. But you knew it would be the side you’d choose again and again and again.

Chris didn’t give anyone time to process what had just happened. He moved swiftly, his grip still firm on your wrist as he led you toward the front door. His eyes flicked toward the table near the entrance, and without hesitation, he grabbed your car keys.

“Chris, what the fuck-” you started, yanking at your arm, but he wasn’t letting go.

Ignoring your protests, he snatched a jacket from the coat rack- the first one he saw- before throwing it over your shoulders. It wasn’t yours. It was his- one of his dark, oversized hoodies, drowning your frame, completely swallowing up the little shorts and shirt you were wearing prior.

And you knew he did it on purpose.

Chris didn’t like other people seeing you like this. Even though he had no right to that opinion. Even though you weren’t his.

But he still covered you up like you were.

He pulled you outside without another word, walking straight toward your car. With one hand, he wrenched the passenger door open, and before you could fight back, he shoved you inside.

“Chris-”

SLAM.

He shut the door before you could finish, storming around the front of the car and sliding into the driver’s seat like it was his car. The second he turned the ignition, the engine roared to life, and his grip tightened around the steering wheel.

Then, without so much as a warning, he peeled out of the driveway, speeding down the street recklessly.

The anger in the air was suffocating.

The silence was short-lived.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” you screamed, whipping around to face him.

Chris’s jaw was locked, his knuckles white around the steering wheel as he refused to look at you. “Shut up.”

“NO!” you snapped, slamming your hands against the dashboard. “PULL THE FUCK OVER!”

Chris laughed. A cold, humorless laugh. “Not a fucking chance.”

Your nails dug into your palms, your rage blinding. “You do NOT get to do this to me, Chris! You do NOT get to fucking drag me out of there like I’m-”

“Like you’re what?” he interrupted sharply, finally cutting his eyes toward you. “Like you’re MINE?”

The car swerved slightly as he took a turn too fast, and your breath caught in your throat.

You weren’t scared.

You were fucking furious.

“I AM NOT YOURS!” you screamed. “I HAVEN’T BEEN YOURS SINCE HIGH SCHOOL, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!”

Chris slammed his fist against the steering wheel so hard that the entire car shook. His breathing was ragged, his knuckles white, his face twisted in pure, unfiltered rage.

“YOU WERE NEVER MINE IN HIGH SCHOOL!” he shouted, his voice so raw and furious it sent a jolt through your body. “THAT WAS THE FUCKING PROBLEM, YOU CUNT! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO FUCKING LEFT ME!”

Your chest heaved as his words slammed into you like a bullet, but you didn’t back down.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING CALL ME THAT! I LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE NEVER GONNA BE WHAT I NEEDED, CHRIS!” you screamed, your own voice just as raw. “You never fucking cared about me- not really! You cared about owning me! Controlling me!”

Chris’s jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle twitch. His grip on the wheel tightened, his breath coming out fast and uneven. “Oh, that’s rich,” he sneered. “You think I didn’t fucking care about you? You think I wasn’t fucking obsessed with you? I would’ve burned the entire fucking world down for you, Y/N, and you fucking left.”

His words felt like a slap.

For a second- just a second you saw it.

The real anger. The real pain. The Chris who had been left behind, the Chris you had ghosted, the Chris who had spent years turning that heartbreak into something uglier, something crueler. You did this to him.

But you weren’t about to let him rewrite history to make himself the victim.

“You pushed me away first,” you hissed, your voice shaking with rage. “You never told me what we were, you never let me in, and the second I started moving on, you decided I wasn’t allowed to!”

Chris let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, is that what you tell yourself? That I pushed you away? No, baby.” His voice lowered, his tone sharp as a blade. “You left because someone else gave you a little bit of attention. Because the second you saw an easier option, you fucking took it. You ran the moment things got complicated, because that’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Your hands shook in your lap.

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

Chris smirked, but it wasn’t amused- it was mean. Cruel.

“Oh, I already do,” he murmured. “Over and over again.”

Your body burned with rage, with shame, with the unbearable truth in his words.

He leaned in again, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “And that’s why we’re here. Because you’re mine now, Y/N. Maybe you weren’t back then. But you are now.”

“I AM NOT FUCKING YOURS YOU EVIL, MANIPULATIVE, PIECE OF SHIT! GET OUT OF MY FUCKING LIFE!” You screech, your entire body fighting between the urge to slap him again and the urge to fucking sob.

Chris slammed his fist against the steering wheel again, his knuckle busting open as the car swerved. “Oh, REALLY?” he shouted. “Then why the fuck did you just CHOOSE ME OVER THEM?”

Your mouth opened- but nothing came out.

Chris scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought.”

Your blood was boiling. Your hands were shaking. “You are so fucking sick and twisted, Chris-”

“AND YOU FUCKING LOVE IT!” he yelled, voice raw with frustration.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your vision blurring with rage.

“You don’t know shit about what I love,” you spat.

Chris finally slammed the brakes, pulling the car onto the side of the road so fast that your body jerked forward against the seatbelt. His breathing was heavy, his hands still gripping the wheel like he was trying not to completely lose his mind, his knuckle bleeding down his hand but it was like he didn’t even notice.

Then, slowly, too slowly, he turned his head to look at you.

His eyes were burning.

“You’re right,” he murmured, his voice dangerous. “I don’t know shit about what you love.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your face as he tilted his head.

“But I do know you love me. That every time I touch you, you melt for me.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“And I know that you can sit here and scream and curse at me all you want, but at the end of the day?” He licked his lips, eyes scanning your face. “You let me do this to you.”

Your breathing was ragged, your throat burning from all the screaming.

Chris smirked, leaning back against his seat. “So, tell me again, Y/N- who’s really the fucking psycho here?”

Your entire body burned with anger, with frustration, with pure, unfiltered rage. You clenched your fists so tight your nails dug into your palms, your breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“YOU’RE THE FUCKING PSYCHO!” you screamed, the words tearing out of you like a final, desperate attempt to shake him, to make him feel something real.

Chris just grinned.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, shaking his head like he pitied you. “You wanna see psycho?”

And then he closed his eyes.

He shifted into drive and peeled onto the main road without looking.

The tires screeched, the engine roared, and your stomach dropped as the car lurched forward, blindly, into traffic.

“CHRIS!” you shrieked, your hands flying toward him, shaking his arm. “OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!”

But he didn’t.

He laughed.

And kept driving.

The headlights of another car came blaring toward you, horn blaring, tires screeching-

You screamed.

With shaking hands and tears streaming down your face, you yanked the emergency brake, the car swerving violently off the road, your body jerking forward against the seatbelt. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the car skidded onto the shoulder, your heartbeat pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

And only then- when the world stopped spinning, when the car settled in the dark stillness of the roadside, when your whole body was shaking with terror- did Chris finally open his fucking eyes.

And the fucker was smiling.

A slow, lazy, utterly thrilled smile, like he had won.

You were still gasping for breath, tears spilling down your face as you tried to process what the fuck just happened, when he reached over and cupped your face in his hands.

“Shh,” he cooed, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his grip firm, inescapable. He leaned in, tilting your chin up, forcing you to look at him through your tears as blood dripped down his fist onto the hoodie you were wearing. “You’re okay, baby. See? I told you you’d be fine.”

And then he kissed you.

You were still crying, still shaking, your whole body running on pure adrenaline, and he fucking kissed you.

His lips moved against yours slowly, deliberately, his grip on your face owning you, holding you in place like you belonged to him. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, his breath hot and steady, like he wasn’t the one who just almost killed you both.

You didn’t kiss him back.

You didn’t fight him off, either.

Because you couldn’t breathe, because you were still trying to process, because you were so fucking scared- and he knew it.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, his smirk small, knowing.

“We’re gonna go back to my house,” he murmured, his hands still holding you like you were his. “I’m gonna tell my mom we’re together.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Chris-”

“And you’re gonna be my good girl, just like you always are.” His thumbs brushed your wet cheeks, smearing your tears away. “And you’re gonna play along, okay?”

Your stomach twisted, your throat closing up with a choked sob.

You tried to move, but his hands tightened around your face.

“Okay, baby?” he repeated, softer now, like he was gently coaxing you into insanity.

Your whole body trembled.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, your voice raw, broken.

Chris only grinned.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, pressing another slow, possessive kiss against your lips, barely letting you breathe. “That’s not very good manners.”

His smirk deepened.

“Mary Lou wouldn’t like that.”

Your stomach dropped, fear curling up your spine like a vice.

Chris let go of your face, his fingers trailing over your jaw as he finally pulled back, shifting his focus back to the road.

Then, without another word, he reached down, undid the emergency brake, and pulled back onto the road towards his family house.

And you just sat there.

—

A/N: long overdue part!! thank you for being patient!! i actually loved writing this and can’t wait to get back into this series now that earned it is over!!

MASTERLIST

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @violetstxrniolo777 @urfungi @jxst-Ixving-bxt-wxerd @chrispycremedonut @ranwa0y @princesspinkkk23 @madisonnxtdoor22 @sturniolohohoho @theboredknightcat-blog @hi-people-who-are-alive @middlepartmatt

[sturniolobsessed]

NSFW ALPHABET - C.STURNIOLO

Warnings : SMUTT, swearing

Summary : A NSFW alphabet about Chris

Authors Note : I don’t know what order I’m gonna post these in but there is gonna be a Matt and Chris SFW version as well. Also, please let me know if you want me to add you to my taglist <3

________________________________________

A - Aftercare (What are they like after sex)

Chris is more playful and flirtatious but still sweet. He likes to caress your body and just worship you.

B - Body part (Their and your favourite body part of each others)

His favourite body part of yours is your eyes and your ass. He likes your eyes because he could stare into your eyes all day and your ass for obvious reasons. Your favourite body part of his is his hands because you think the veins are hot and you also like how it feels inside of you.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He would lowk want you to swallow it but if you don’t want to, he ofc ain’t gonna force you.

D - Dirty Secret (What is a dirty secret of theirs)

I think he would have a bit of a breeding kink but only if you’re on the pill because he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment yet.

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Kid has like 1-2 bodies but not like too much. He is a quick learner so whatever he doesn’t really know, he learns quick.

F - Favourite position (Goes without saying)

Chris is hitting backshots all the time but he lowk loves it when you ride him - he still finds a way to be the dominant one. He would also kinda fw missionary when he is feeling cutesy.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious or goofy in the moment?)

Chris is like permanently making jokes but he definitely doesn’t do it as much during sex. He would probably make a joke every now and again if the sex is getting a little dry but other than that, not really.

H - Hair (How well trimmed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

He def has a bit but he would absolutely hate it when it gets too long. He also has a happy trail bc you can see it when he’s shirtless

I - Intimacy (How intimate are they in the moment?)

He loves sweet yet passionate make outs and it would 9 times out of 10 turn into something more.

J - Jerking off (Masturbation)

Chris would only pleasure himself if you’re not there to do it - which, imo, isn’t very often but if he was to do it, he’s moaning your name.

K - Kinks (What kinks do they have?)

As confirmed in one of their recent streams, Chris is an ass guy so I think he would love to slap your ass in bed and also just when he feels like it but other than that, I think it’s mainly just the classics. Also, he is 99% of the time dom.

L - Location (Their fav place/s to do it)

If Chris is horny, he will fuck you in most places. You’ve probably fucked on every surface in the warehouse, his room, probably the kitchen and living room. He is also not afraid to fuck you in the bathroom in a restaurant or somewhere in public but that doesn’t mean that he wants to be caught. He’s just horny. He’s acc really terrified of getting caught.

M - Motivation (What gets them going?)

He is a sucker for you in a short ass skirt, once again, so he can see your ass and he also loves when you sit on his lap. Obviously, if your just casually sat on his lap, cuddled into him, he’s less likely to get turned on but if you’re like, touching his chest, kissing him etc, he’d always have you sat on his lap. Also, before you start worrying, he don’t care how much you weigh.

N - No (Things they’re not open to in bed)

The same as Matt, he would never in a million years let you peg him but other than that, he’s open to most everything. He’s probably not too welcoming of like.. crazy shit but if there’s something you wanna try, of course he’ll do it.

O - Oral (Are they good at it? Do they prefer to give or receive?)

I think Chris would prefer to revive head, although he loves to make you feel good, because he loves to see you on your knees for him, doing as he says. He thinks it’s the hottest thing. And yes, of course he’s good at it.

P - Pace (Do they prefer sweet and sensual or fast and rough?)

Chris would probably prefer fast and rough, more fast than rough because he still doesn’t want to hurt you, but he also likes sweet and sensual when you or him have had a bad day and just want some sweet sex. Also, if you’re having morning sex, it’s only sweet and sensual because he’s tired.

Q - Quickie (Their opinion on quickies and how often?)

He would probably prefer to take his time with it and tease you, kiss you, touch you etc but he is definitely not against a quickie when it’s necessary.

R - Risk (Are they willing to take risks?)

Chris is very open to new things if you want to do them because he wants to make you feel good. As I said earlier, if it’s not too crazy, he’ll do it for you.

S - Stamina (How many rounds? How long do they last?)

He can go for 3-4 rounds but 5 if you haven’t had sex in a while. He lasts a perfectly average time but will definitely touch you and kiss you in between rounds so that you still feel good. He will also ask you to do the same for him.

T - Toys (Do they own toys? If so, how many and which ones?)

There is no doubt in my mind that Chris has like a fleshlight or something and then some stuff for you to make you feel good. He would probably have a vibrator but not a dildo because he wants his dick to be the only one to make you feel good lmao.

U - Unfair (Do they like to tease? If so, how much?)

His entire idea of foreplay is just teasing and getting you to just before you cum and then pulling away, leaving you whining for his touch. There is a good chance that he has reduced you to tears, just wanting to be touched.

W - Wild Card (A random headcannon)

He loves to just watch you touch yourself either while he touches himself as well or just watching, almost teasing himself because he wants to touch you but he won’t let himself.

X - X-Ray (What have they got going on under their clothes?)

We’ve already lowk seen what he’s got going on because of this video so from that, I’d say like 7 inches. He’s big but not too much.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Chris is very horny when he wants to be and when I tell you, when he wants it, there’s slim to nothing that will stop him. You would most likely have sex like 3-4 times a week and sometimes more.

Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after?)

He wouldn’t fall asleep straight away after because he wants to cuddle and stuff but he would be worn out afterwards.

________________________________________

Taglist : @astrolynnworld @moncherriis @mattybsbitch @mangoposts @sturniolo0ntop @bluesturniolo333 @mattyssluttt @strnzzvsp @sturnsem @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @loud-sturniolos @iheartmattsbeard @sturnsaver @sturnsdarling @sturnioloslife @stuniolvs @iheartmattsturniolosstuff @33sturniolo @sturnsxx

[dioslesbianwife]

Hello! May I request the part5 characters(not the antagonists) a reader who is (too) easily distracted, even when fighting. (Platonic pls!!)

If it's not too much, can I also ask for Johnny, Gyro, Hot Pants, and Diego(scary monsters)? (Same request, also platonic!)

Sorry if that request is long you don't have to do everyone and I hope you're doing well!!

yeah i can do everyone, thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy!

Giorno Giovanna

He is patient, but you test that patience every time you space out mid-fight.

“Please, focus.” Said with the same intensity as if he’s willing you to stay in the present. He sounds calm, but internally he is stressed.

Has probably saved your life at least five times because you got distracted by a pretty flower while someone was actively trying to kill you.

He considers giving you a beetle as a reminder to stay focused, but he’s worried you’ll get distracted admiring the beetle instead of fighting.

Bruno Bucciarati

Tries to be understanding but is so close to zipping your mouth shut mid-battle to keep you focused.

“What are you looking at?” He asks in a calm tone, trying to figure out what could possibly be more important than not dying.

You once stopped mid-mission to pet a stray cat, and while he wanted to scold you, even he couldn’t resist how cute it was.

Ends up making a habit of tapping your shoulder to keep you in the moment.

Leone Abbacchio

Absolutely no patience. He’s glaring at you every time you zone out.

If you wander off during a fight, he is dragging you back, no hesitation. “Are you kidding me? Focus, dumbass.”

“I swear, if you get stabbed because you got distracted by the sky, I am not telling Giorno to revive you”

Secretly watches over you more than he lets on. Complains about it, but still does it.

Guido Mista

“BRO. BRO. BRO. YOU CAN LOOK AT THAT LATER.”

He thinks it’s hilarious until it almost gets you both killed. Then he’s yelling at you like a concerned big brother.

The Sex Pistols? Absolutely no help. They get just as distracted as you do. Now Mista has to keep seven people focused.

Eventually starts clapping his hands in your face like a kindergarten teacher when you get too spaced out.

Narancia Ghirga

Hypocrite. He also gets distracted, so the two of you are a danger to yourselves.

“Oh, sick, is that a dog?” “NO, NARANCIA, FOCUS-”

Bucciarati is holding his head in his hands because he now has two easily-distracted disasters to keep alive.

Fights often devolve into Trish, Mista, or Giorno having to keep you and Narancia focused like chaotic little siblings.

Trish Una

“Seriously?” She is so done.

If she sees you spacing out mid-fight, she will grab your wrist and physically pull you back into focus.

Low-key worried about you, though. She’s seen you almost get killed too many times because of your wandering attention.

The only one who tries to help you train to focus. She will make you practice awareness drills if necessary.

Spice girl will literally slap you if you zone out during one of these training sessions.

Fugo Pannacotta

Uncontrollable rage. Every time you space out, he feels his blood pressure rising.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU DON’T PAY ATTENTION, I’M GOING TO LOSE IT-”

Almost gave himself an aneurysm when you stopped mid-fight to point out a cool-looking cloud.

He’d never actually use Purple Haze on you, but you make him consider it.

Johnny Joestar

He’s so confused. How do you function? How are you still alive?

“What are you even looking at?” You point at a weirdly shaped tree. He sighs in exhaustion.

Has had to pull you out of danger so many times it’s almost second nature now.

Gets frustrated but doesn’t yell at you. He mostly just gives you tired looks of disbelief.

Gyro Zeppeli

“Hah! That’s hilarious. Oh, wait, we’re gonna die.”

At first, he finds it funny, but when he realizes it’s a chronic issue, he starts actively trying to fix it.

Throws pebbles at you when you start zoning out. “Just checking if you’re still with us.”

Will absolutely bully you into staying focused, but in a big-brother kind of way.

Hot Pants

Zero tolerance. She does not mess around.

“I am not saving you if you wander off. Figure it out.” (She will still save you, but she’ll be pissed about it.)

Does not hesitate to shove you behind cover if you get too distracted. You’re lucky she’s fast.

Will literally block your vision with her hand if you start staring at something irrelevant.

Diego Brando

"Are you even trying to survive?"

Zero patience. Immediately mocking you when you get distracted. "Oh no, you’re busy looking at a bird. Guess you don't care about LIVING."

Almost left you to fend for yourself once just to teach you a lesson, but begrudgingly helped you at the last second.

If you get distracted too many times, he starts throwing small rocks at you just to be petty.

[benevolentcalamity]

Once a Father, Never a Daddy [Abusive!Doflamingo & Fem!Child!Reader][1/2]

I do not know him enough so I'm not at all confident in my ability to write him, so I apologize in advance. So I'm very happy accepting criticism/tips. (I'm just after Thriller Bark btw.)

Disclaimer: This fic contains graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect and may be considered triggering. Please do not read more if you cannot handle these themes. If you or a loved one has gone through this, you're absolutely not alone, and help/better days are always there.

Also, this is split in two because when you get fics too long, Tumblr just starts lagging and that REALLY annoys me. So I apologize in advance if pacing's not as stellar as most of my stuff. I'll make it up to you.

CURTAINS!

"DADDY, LET ME OUT!!!"

Your little hands bang on the impossibly still door until the skin splits on your knuckles. With all your might you scratch, slap, and pound on the wood, feeling it press a little stronger against you with your resistance. Tears pouring down your cheeks your hair stands on end as the darkness behind you settles in; a punishment you know too well.

"PLEASE DADDY, I'M SORRY!" You scream, hands already raw from struggle. "DADDY, PLEASE, LET ME OUT! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN, I PROMISE!"

A harsh pound that rattles the door, resounding through your room, sends a piercing chill through your stomach and sends you to the floor. Scooting back and hurrying to your feet, you prepare for the doorknob to twist, for him to come barging in and demand you not make any more noise. But this is enough to scare you into silence - and he seems to know that now.

Softly you sniffle, reaching out as the all-too-familiar sound of the knob being secured and locked clicks. Wiping away your tears you stand, reaching and just barely wrapping your hand around it. With all your might you grab and attempt to twist; it doesn't budge an inch.

"... Please let me out..."

There's a sound like feet retreating from the door, and the loneliness finally hits as you back up, defeat weighing your shoulders. Slinking away, you turn back towards your room. First thing to catch your attention is your nightstand, bereft of the lamp Uncle Rossi gave you to cut through the dark. It had a smell to it, somehow, and you really liked it.

Without it you can't stand the dark - and as punishment for not doing what daddy said, it's gone. Wiping a stray tear from your cheek you grab your stuffed lamb Cuppy, putting him on the bed before pitter-pattering to your wardrobe.

creak

Your eyes shoot to the door, back stiffening as your hair stands on end. Every limb freezes, and your heart leaps into your throat. Swallowing, your hands go up to prepare to shield your head, lest your noise have bothered anyone. As your fingers chill to the bone, your knees lock and the darkness creeps back into your senses.

The doorknob twitches. Your hands fly to your mouth to keep from shrieking. Tears revived and leaking, you await on bated breath... It does make daddy especially angry, after all, when you try to hide from him.

You still have the scar on your arm.

A lump forms and engorges, threatening to choke you if you don't make a sound. You learned better from screaming "Go away" or "I hate you", so that's simply not an option. Gritting your teeth you step more into the open, hoping that an effort not to hide would let you get your lamp back. Hiding, running away... all of it is pointless.

After an eternity it jimmies and then turns after a few small clicks, and a familiar black and red lit up by the hallway relaxes you into relieved elation.

"Uncle Rossi-!" You whisper-yell, him putting a finger to his lips and looking behind him.

With quick movements he beckons you forward, and you rush to him in the time it takes to put a plate full of food on the small chair near the door. Kneeling down he pats your cheek and kisses your forehead, giving you a toothy, reassuring grin.

"Don't forget to eat out the window, and drop it once you're done. It's okay, dad won't notice one plate being missing," He whispers, ruffling your hair. "I'm not letting you go to bed hungry." He's done this every time. "... It's going to be okay, little cutie. I promise."

You nod. "... Does daddy still love me?"

For a moment he's quiet. His expression falls solemn, head lifting to look over his shoulder again. With a sigh, his hand ruffles your hair one more time, before suddenly he smiles again.

"I love you!" He chirps. The words wrap around your heart, like a soft fleece blanket, and like a charm, your sorrow is calmed, and your tears finally stop. "Don't forget that, okay? Uncle Rossi loves you."

Nodding, you finally manage to smile. "I love you too, Uncle Rossi."

His head snaps up again, and he pats your head and hurries out. The doorknob again is secured, and his feet fade out quickly. Swallowing, you grab the plate, carefully bringing it to the window. Unlatching it you crouch as the panes swing over your head, setting the plate of food - bouillabaisse - on the ledge and chowing down.

The moonlight peers out from the clouds like your only friend, and peace returns again to your heart.

"... It'll be different tomorrow..." You tremble. "I won't be bad again, I promise..."

Finishing with urgency, you drop the plate and fork into the sea, pushing the window closed and locked. Crawling into bed, you listen to the footsteps above your room, to the sea calming outside. Yawning, you drift into the now placated shadows, hugging Cuppy close to your heart.

___

A sound like something dropping to the ground above you wakes you with a start. Swallowing harshly you're quick to climb out of bed, little time to spare, and wipe your mouth as you rush to your wardrobe. You're just quick enough to grab one of your favorite cotton shirts, a pair of shorts, and a clean pair of underwear as the doorknob is unbound and unlocked.

You swallow, harshly, rushing towards the center again as dad's blond hair peeks atop the door. As he straightens back up, his head doesn't need to look long to find you. Feet planting in place, you watch, hands clenched to keep from shaking and lip wobbling, as he approaches.

"Behave, maggot," He hisses, holding his hand out.

Eyebrow quirked at you managing not to flinch, he impatiently taps his foot as you reach up to it. Harshly he grabs it, yanking you forward. His large pace forces you into a jog, matching his pace with every third step. At first you're staring up at him, waiting for him to even turn his head your way, to ask how you slept, or even just what you want for breakfast. Or maybe, just maybe, that he loves you and today it'll be different. Better, even.

None of this happens. Your bottom lip wobbles as the familiar doors to the bathroom appear past the corner.

"Take a damn bath." He shoves you to another crewmate, not even giving you a glance. "Watch it, keep it away from me."

Your hand reaches for him as you're guided into the bathroom. "Daddy?" Without a glance or gesture, your lip wobbles further, heart tying in knots. "DADDY!"

A dark cloud weighs on your shoulders again, guiding you to the bathtub as said crewmate puts some soap beside it and a towel. Patting your head in pity, he kneels down to murmur in your ear.

"Disobedient children aren't rewarded." The words are an icy dagger in your stomach. "... If you want your daddy to love you, maybe you should be a good child that deserves to be loved."

With that you're left alone, breath hitched in your throat as your heart runs cold. Staring at your reflection in the water, you cast aside your dirty clothes, stepping into it and sitting. The lukewarm water manages to chill you to the bone, to where you need to hug your knees to feel warm. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you glance at the door, waiting... and waiting...

You sigh, pinching your nose and turning sideways to completely submerge. Curling up, your [h/c] hair waves out in tendrils as your legs minutely twitch in unease. As your lungs slowly grow sore, you momentarily wonder if it's even possible to be good... What did you do? Why won't dad look your way?

Sitting back up, you gulp down air as the answer to your question comes from the red syrup of your shampoo.

"... Just do what daddy says?" Would that make him happy? Will he love you? Do what he says without complaining... Yea, it's as simple as that, isn't it? "... I'll be a good girl. I won't complain about daddy's work."

Yea. It's as simple as that.

Rinsing your head clean, you comb the conditioner from your hair under the running water. Reaching you grab the towel and brush, drying off and putting yourself together, painstaking as the process of brushing your hair is. All the same you finish, tying it back. Sliding back into your shoes you jump up onto the knob, it turning in your hold, and let the door swing open, taking you with it. Lowering back onto your feet, you turn-

"Get your ass to the poop deck." You're shoved into a pace, which you continue with a nod. "Captain's orders, help out with scrubbin' if you want breakfast."

"I understand."

__

It's unbearably hot.

Dunking your brush in the cold, soapy water, you wince at the glare of the sun on the sea, washing away dirt and scum. It takes a few swipes, being as small as you are, but you manage. It's a process that sees you biting your lip so hard in concentration that it bleeds, but you do your best, scrub until your arms are sore, and repeat.

"-and as I was saying, Rosinante, it's complete bullshit."

Dad's voice makes you perk up, and you turn a bit to see where he's coming from. A big smile is what you present as he and Uncle Rossi ascend from below deck, waiting for him to look your way. Dad doesn't but Uncle Rossi gives you a massive smile and thumbs up before dad jabs him, regaining his attention.

"We've had issues with this same supplier awhile now. The frequency of our visits is starting to annoy me."

Standing up from scrubbing, you take a deep breath. Pittering over to him you find his leg, swallowing. Rearing, you take a small leap, wrapping your arms around it like a peach tree.

"Daddy~!" You let out, hugging him tightly-

A harsh kick to your stomach, sending you all the way back to your bucket and straight onto your ass.

...

... Oh.

I'm not doing enough... You turn back to the bucket and brush, biting back tears. Just keep going... Do your best. Daddy will love you if you do.

All the same, your tears keep falling onto your hard work.

A hand on your head, ruffling your hair, tugs you from your sorrow. Looking up, Uncle Rossi crouches down beside you, pointing at your bucket. Now it's too cloudy and dirty to clean efficiently. Managing a nod, you wipe your tears with your arm, standing up and dumping the bucket.

Keeping a tight hold on it, you pause just as you're at dad's side, gaze turning from below deck to him.

"... Do you love me?" You ask.

Not even a glance. You raise up on your tippy-toes, tilting your head.

"Daddy?" You ask again. "Do you love me?"

Lowering, you wait, staring and waiting for what... really has to be forever. Before long though tears blur your vision, and you bite back a sniff as you rush below deck. Not good enough - you're just not good enough yet. If you work to the bone, if you're so to-the-letter it's painful, that's when he'll look your way. You just have to remember that.

Be perfect, and nothing less; push past your limits; endure and don't cry. It'll be unbearably hard, but if you manage to do all of this, dad has to love you.

It's not a long walk to where there's more water by any means. Operating the pump, that's the real test, but you manage just by jumping up onto it. It pinches down on your wrist every time it comes back down, but it doesn't hurt long. Rubbing the red marks it makes, you begin the arduous task of carrying the bucket.

Sloshing and rocking against your body, you stiffen your legs anytime you feel yourself wobble. When the water reaches and touches your chin you wince, staying still until it stops. Every maybe three steps and you're losing your grip, but still you try.

Something swipes the bottom of your feet, and your shrieks are drowned by the water pouring onto your face as you fall onto your butt. Bucket landing perfectly onto your head to hide your face, the cruel laughter of passing crewmates resounds through the rotting wood.

"Better mop that up, kid! You made that mess!"

For a moment you're stuck, legs too heavy to move. You try to move your arms, but there's no feeling. Swallowing, you try to open your mouth to complain, but the lump in your throat takes the sound before you make it. A mix of tears and water pours down your face, your jaw starting to wobble. Biting your lip harshly you force yourself back to your feet.

The bucket slides off your head, falling harshly to the floor. For a moment your gaze turns back to the steps leading above deck.

... Mop first.

Clutching your shirt tightly, your shoes squish against the floor as you go to find the mop, usually near the bathroom. Sniffling harshly, you wipe your face, shaking your head like it'll get rid of this horrible lump. Still your lips purse, and still everything hurts when the supply closet door opens. Reaching, you take the mop in your hands and take a deep breath.

Do your best...

'Watch it, keep it away from me.'

It. You.

... Get out of the way. Maybe that's what he wants.

As much as you want to go back, to try again, maybe it'll just be better to put yourself away. It'd be... a nice reprieve, maybe. And maybe they'll have something good to eat for lunch, seeing as you might not get breakfast after all. That's just what happens sometimes, after all.

You want to puke; to cry; to scream; to just run to Uncle Rossi. Everything and anything feels more like a dead end the more you think, until you've come up blank on what else to do.

"... I hate this..." You whimper, rubbing your arm as you pitter-patter back to your room. I don't know what's wrong with me...

... Someone, please...

Tears well up in your eyes.

Someone tell me what's wrong! Tell me what's bad! Please tell me, someone-!

Your pace picks up, eventually zooming past countless doors and shapes.

Just... How much longer...?

In what must have been a blink you're safe back in your room. For a second you turn back to the door, cheeks waterlogged and red, waiting for footsteps. Wanting someone to just scoop you up and hold you, tell you what's wrong with you - or that maybe nothing is... Is there?

Meandering to your window, you crack it open, and dad's voice is the first thing you hear.

"... Where's the problem?"

"What do you mean, Doflamingo sir?"

"I mean, where's the fucking maggot." Your heart feels a sharp, cold sting.

"She- it went back below deck. I can fetch it so it can keep scrubbing-"

"I didn't give it an order to do chores, I gave you an order to keep it away from me. Looks like it knows what that means. But enough about it. We're arriving to Foam Town shortly, for the supplier. Don't forget the orders."

"Get the Devil Fruit, and kill him, right?"

"Mhm. I don't take kindly to someone holding out on me. Especially when I've been so kind and generous. That won't happen again, though."

"Do you need Corazon to keep an eye on the kid?"

"Tch. It won't be an issue. Just as long as it doesn't get in the way of our business, I don't care what it gets up to... Ugh, but I'm going to hear it cry at some point today. Have someone get it some food."

"Understood, sir."

Backing up once you hear the sound of heavy footsteps, you meander to your shelf. Tugging a worn book from it - a collection of fairytales dad let you get when he looked at you - you hurry to your bed, jumping to get onto it without a hitch. Swallowing harshly you open it to a page with a family of rabbits stealing food from a mean old farmer's garden.

You like these stories, very much. But the pages are falling out, and you can't ask for a new one right now.

Just when you're absorbed enough to where the lump in your throat is gone, there's a knock at the door.

"Got your lunch, kid." That's not Uncle Rossi or dad. The door opens a crack and a bowl is haphazardly dropped on the small table. "We're landing soon. Be on your best behavior."

"... Thank you," You manage, the door slamming your reply.

Putting the book down you slide out of bed, going to receive the meal. It's a lobster risotto, dad's favorite. Tears well up again as you take the bowl back to your bed to eat and read. Dad doesn't care that you do so, you've been told, but you're still careful.

"... Foam Town. Okay." You mutter, something lighting up in your chest.

... This time, it's different.

[shannonsketches]

I overanalyze the hell out of everything but! While we're here--

I think a lot (and am too lazy to make the many many comics in my head) about how Vegeta was having fun with these androids (even being sportsmanlike with Piccolo about it!) until he found out who Trunks was (and also that they were the wrong androids). Then between that reveal and Bulma getting shot down, he switches back into Spite and Fury, and I just chinhands I think a lot about what a shot to the chest it would be to learn that you die -- you die in the future, you lose to these surprise enemies -- and your son, with his mother's machine and knowledge of the events, comes back to the past to make sure someone else lives.

"It's just because Goku's the first to die, so it's a domino effect!" Yes, but,

Vegeta was standing right there when Bulma said her strategy was to destroy the androids before they became an issue. Vegeta knows that Bulma feels very strongly that this is the move, and that waiting is stupid. He also knows that she watched him dabble on Earth for a year and a half before Goku came home.

So he knows that she could've sent Trunks back earlier, and had him talk to Piccolo. Vegeta could've used that entire ~12-18 months to train for a specific threat, or even just to prepare for Frieza's return.

He also knows that she could've just as easily sent Trunks back while they were all on Namek, and taken care of the issue before any of them were even made aware of it. That was her suggestion in the present! Trunks could've left Goku's medication with Roshi, or Popo, and just let it remain a mystery where it came from and how it got there.

But instead, Trunks came the day that Goku came back. So he could meet Goku. And talk to Goku. So he could make sure Goku survived. So Goku could save everyone. Because Goku would be there to win the day. Because Goku's is the strength they trust to be enough.

The way that must corrode your insides and just flood you with envy, and spite, and poison. The way he behaves for the rest of this arc despite the clever strategist we saw on Earth and on Namek, despite the cautious observation, the patience, the snarky humor, the distinct recognition of a threat that needs eliminating before it's too late -- despite all these things we've seen him be and have and do, after this point he's reckless and fuming and desperate to prove himself to the detriment of everyone around him.

As a punishment, maybe? For choosing Goku over You?

As necessity? Because you've spent 30 of your 31 years having the value of your life measured solely by your ability to win?

As a distraction? From knowing that you spent your life fighting tooth and nail for all that you are, only to die, humiliated, at the feet of your enemies having failed to do the only task you felt you were alive to do, then be revived by mistake, then learn that even your own child would prefer the person who succeeded at that one seemingly impossible task?

It's really no wonder, at this extremely low and fragile point in Vegeta's life, that he went from quietly standoffish to actively erratic from this point. It's not until Cell slaps him with the reality check of losing those precious few who continued to choose him despite his profound personal and operational failures (which were likely a death sentence, where he's from) that he settles back down (in the manga) to being quietly standoffish, strategic, and cooperative toward the higher goal.

Then spends the next seven years learning it never had to be like that because it turns out people on this planet mostly still want you to be alive and come home even if you fuck up real bad and you actually don't have to be The Star Executioner to be valued and welcomed and even?? Loved?? Which sucks to learn after you've already gotten your son and your rival and very nearly your rival's son killed by being an insecure jackass and making everything worse than it had to be.

But don't worry, it'll only happen one more time and it'll only take like 40 minutes to publicly murder like 2000 people and almost destroy the entire universe because you had something totally different to prove this time, it's a minor relapse at best, it's fine, everyone's fine, we're all gonna wish that memory away from all the innocent people and only think about it at 2am when you're awake laying in bed trying to figure out why the fuck you're still allowed in this house and you can spend the next 4-6 years turning your shit around and embracing that soft emotions are okay to feel and you're not a defective specimen being slowly deconstructed on a backwater space rock and it's actually normal to care about stuff and it's everything you were ever taught before this that was toxic and wrong and had to be unlearned so you could grow and change and harness true strength instead of chasing shallow power so it's fine!! It's totally fine. Everything's fine. He's fine. He's good.

[gingersnaptaff]

(Okay, so I know I said I was gonna do marriage laws and queenship stuff in regards to welsh laws - and I will! - but here is a nice, quick round-up about BARDS

*SHREDS ON A HARP*

Okay, so this is inspired by @gawrkin 's recent posts on bards because the laws surrounding them are SUPER FUN. And Wales LOVES LOVES LOVES their bards. (Myself included.)

Right, so, without further ado, ONWARDS.

*shreds harp aggressively again*

So the 'spurious triads' the author is referring to are presumably to do with IOLO MORGANNWG *ominous thunderclap*.

I shan't go too much into him as suffice to say, we gotta keep this shit SHORT, but he was a massive forger from Glamorgan (that's what Morgannwg means. It's his bardic name. Iolo is Edward.) who made up a bunch of triads and Celtic / medieval manuscripts including some of the Welsh Triads. Also, he is the reason why the Eisteddfod has the Gorsedd of bards.

So a mixed bag, y'know.

ANYWAY. They're very high-rank on account of being the literally Yellow Pages of Celtic and medieval Welsh societies. If you had a question that needed answering you'd ask a bard. They were like Google. They would know a man's lineage (and Welsh lineages are confusing. There were men named Dafydd ap Dafydd ap Dafydd ap Dafydd. No, I'm not joking.) battles, monarchs, myths, songs, stories. Anything.

And they had to SING. And play an instrument. Namely either a harp or a crwth.

This baby is crwth! It's a little like a violin but much darker in tone. They were extinct for a while but they've undergone a revival and they are FUN!

Also, the court bard had to SING to the queen about Camlann 'in a low voice.' I've heard various reasons suggested as to why and one of them is to remind her that Gwenhwyfar's infidelity was the main reason for King Arthur's downfall, but I think it's probably because of The Slap. Idk though. I'm just guessing, buddies.

Still, it's cool that the queen got a special sing-song.

Also, the bard being 'invested with a chess board' suggests to me that the game of Gwyddbwyll that Arthur and Owain play in the Mabinogion signals that they're bards. Gwyddbwyll being the type of chess the bards would've been familiar with. Plus, we know Arthur is somewhat of an amateur bard (Culhwch and Olwen being the prime example where he sings his terrible englyn about Cai to his face. Arthur, ur a fuckin BASTARD.) so it's in keeping with his character.

Also, I think it's adorable that the harp 'always descended to the youngest son.'

If you want a story that deals with bards and their privileged position in Welsh society and also wants ur heart RIPPED OUT may I suggest 'The Assembly of the Severed Head' by Hugh Lupton. It deals with a bard in a monastery after he's almost perished in a raid and the monks writing out the Mabinogion so they can give it to Llywelyn Fawr. It deals with war, love, loss, and also stonking good historical context. Also lots of poetry!!!!

Final fact: bards in Wales weren't wiped out by Edward the First. That's a fuckin myth. Don't come round here with ur fuckin myths. Old Longshanks has done enough already. May he eat shit.

(Also, Taliesin gets all the good rep but what about my boy Aneirin?)

Okay, BYEEEEE!!!!

P.S.: have an Eisteddfod chair!

[seiwas]

Hiya! I love your writing and I'm so glad to be seeing you on my dash bc I haven't in a while! For your writing revival game, can I suggest:

"Incandescent" and either Ushijima or Osamu?

hi cheesy! 🥹 this is so nice of you to say, thank you 🥹 i've been a bit on and off here and there over the past few months because work has just been so busy 🥺 but i'm glad to be back here too!! thank you for sending in a prompt 🥹

contains: established relationship, halloween outfits, miya dynamics

osamu + incandescent

there are a lot of reasons why atsumu loves you for his brother―you bring osamu food when he barely has time to eat in the shop, and you send picture updates in the group chat you have with the two of them and ma. you also give him your extra onigiri when osamu says he's had too much.

you're there for osamu in times when he can't be, and for that, he's grateful.

this time though, he thinks he might just be indebted to you.

"people're g'na ask ya to sit on me," osamu glances at your costume before staring at the mirror again. from the dining table across the room, atsumu is holding in his laugh, doing his best to keep the water in his mouth.

tonight is onigiri miya's annual halloween party, and you've managed to somehow convince osamu to dress as a burner―red incandescent light and all.

"so i will," you smile sweetly, adjusting the foam handle of your outfit. the theme for the party is: onigiri miya, and truly, what is more essential to the shop than an electric burner and its pan?

from the side of the room, you think atsumu nearly chokes.

"it'll be cute," you step towards him, reaching for the black switch along his hip, "plus, you even light up!"

in an instant, he glows red, the spiral pattern along his chest lighting up like an electric burner heating up. atsumu snorts, erupting into a fit of laughter as he slaps his knee.

"shit," he wipes a tear while holding up his phone camera, "can't wait f'ma to see this."

osamu looks at him from the mirror, deadpan, "yeah, show'er ya shitty dye job too."

because atsumu doesn’t look any better at all, dressed as none other than osamu for halloween―black long sleeves with an apron, a pair of gloves and osamu's actual work pants. the cap on top of his head rests on temporarily dyed jet black hair, but he's done it in such a haste that his blonde roots are still showing.

you laugh, never quite getting used to their antics despite being a witness to it for years. halloween with the twins is always a memory you look back on fondly, and you don't think this year will be any different at all.

[pigeonpeach]

A casket for one but a grave for two

Jingliu x dead foxian fem reader

Random drabble because i haven’t written in too long!!! This isn’t edited so please excuse me if it suck!!!

Also warning: reader is dead :(, desecration of a corpse/ gravesite (Its not sexual) but jingliu misses her wife and digs up her grave to celebrate what should’ve been their anniversary, angst

The night is young, the moon is full land vibrant. Its bright pearlescent colors match what remains in the casket Jingliu digs up, its lid its released as the stench of death washes over. The swordswoman doesn’t falter though, the smell of a skeleton is better than the smell of the battlefield. They’re still dressed in the beautiful hanfu she saw them in. When flesh hung on their skull, a constant pink would linger on their cheeks. They used to smell of the ocean with sea themed perfumes, their hair was always well kept, she’d run her fingers through it when stressed. The hair has since fallen off. But Jingliu isn’t herself anymore. She knows that. Something grows within her. Those cursed yellow leaves climb out if her throat with a heavy and hurtful cough, as if the roots of the ambrosial arbor grew within her lungs and tore at her veins. This day was one tragedy already, years ago, her beloved having passed in wore. Their death… the cause is starting to blur. Jingliu wonders if this cursed disease will rid her of everything, her love, her life, the memories of her wife… What had she done to deserve this cursed fate? She fought valiantly, she held her ground, and the aeons or whoever wrote the details of fate decided to play the cruelest joke on her. That her beloved would lay alone in the ground, and she would be unable to join them… not anymore. Perhaps it was the pain of the roots and leaves growing, perhaps it was the anger and homicidal reaction that drove to such extreme. In her worst moments in life, her wife was there. The sight of her alone would ease tension, her hands would work into her shoulders and her voice was the siren’s call. But she’d never hear it again, she’d never see her again. The mara cannot revive, at least that she knows of. Yingxing’s corpse had been fresh when Dan Feng committed that sin. But there is no muscle ontop of the bones, it’ll do

“Tonight is lovely isn’t it?” Jingliu held the skull of her lover in her hands with the gentleness and fondness she did in life. “Today.. today would be our 40th anniversary..”

“Actually it would be our 100th.” Jingliu could hear her say that in her head.

“It doesn’t matter the number. What matters is just how much we love each other right?” She peered into the skull, trying to mentally piece the flesh onto the bone, the eyes into the socket, the hair into the skin, but it was blurry. She felt a surge of distress, no.. she couldn’t forget. She can’t forget her. She couldn’t protect her to the end the least she can do is firmly protect her memory. Jingliu hissed in pain, clutching her head as it began to spiral with thoughts. A storm brewed, a flame ingited, a endless stream of water filling the room (metaphorically), sowing thd seeds of a rage and berserker that could cause her to further fall into the trap of mara.

“Jingliu~” a voice called, a siren’s melody that cleared the air in a instant. The night was quiet now. Nothing made a sound. Not the heliobi roaming in the gardens, nothing. But the silence didn’t feel threatening, she couldn’t explain it. She looked back at the skull. “Fight as you’ve always had. That is my wish. Do not let my death hold you back.. save them.. for me.. please..” Jingliu’s wife’s final words to her acted like a slap as she held the skull to her chest.

“I avenged you dear.. Hoolay.. he is locked away.. tortured for eternity.. never will he be able to hurt your people again.. you didn’t die for nothing.. I promise you.. I did it..” Jingliu wept silently, staring at the moon, as if to pray.

“I love you.. Jingliu..”

“I love you too, for eternities and centuries.. my love will never die even if I someday become a wretched beast.. I promise even then will your voice be my medicine…” Jingliu pressed a kiss to the skull, her lips only meeting hard snd cold teeth. She laid back on the ground, the skull on her chest, wanting to enjoy this peace for a little bit longer

[nethhiri]

Chapter 56: Prometheus

Warnings: Torture, murder, violence, body horror, references to rape

It was deeply satisfying to watch dullness enter Warthin's eye, the one that you hadn't blown through his head. It wasn't enough. You needed to kill him in the worst ways a hundred times over before it would be enough. Warthin's brains slid back into place, followed by the fragments of his skull that had shattered into the wall behind him as your devil fruit pulled him back from hell. The livid state you were in didn't allow for failure. He would be coming back to face his well-deserved punishment. A yellow glow made a veil over his abdomen as his intestines knit themselves back together, and the skin over them. Warthin was still for entirely too long. You slapped his face until his hand twitched and he inhaled a loud, gasping breath as his consciousness returned. Confusion clouded his expression.

You laughed. "Oh you thought that was it?" You landed a solid punch across his face. "You stupid fuck." You punched him again, hard enough that he drooled blood. You spit onto your fingers and smeared it across his dry, bloodshot eyes. "That's better, isn't it? I need you to be able to see everything that's coming to you." 

He started to say something and you hit him across the face.

"Shut the fuck up." You spat at him. "You'll speak when I tell you to speak." You punctuated it with a kick into his stomach. 

You wanted to do so much more to him. The energy it took to heal him had taken a lot out of you and you weren't so sure that you could do it again today. So you could either fuck him up to the brink of death without killing him, or play with one of the other prisoners. There was always the option of doing both. You also didn't want him to accidentally die on you, since you weren't sure if there was a time limit to reviving him. Not enough of your anger was alleviated by your quick killing of Warthin. You weren't ready to leave this room, not ready to face any of the crew. 

You walked up and down the wall of tools, running your hands over the options. Something painfully slow would be best, but you also needed something that allowed you to vent. Most people were afraid of the larger tools. Those were the least frightening in your opinion. They usually killed quickly. The worst ones were the tiny tools. Those could make torture last for weeks. That must have been why they were your favorite. You selected some needles of varying sizes, along with nails and a hammer.

You walked back to Warthin tossing the hammer in your hand and catching it. He appeared as if he was going to be sick. "After everything you've done, you're afraid of a hammer?" You set it down, along with the nails. "The hammer is for later. You can stop being so dramatic." You held the needles up in your hand. "These are for now."

Taking one of his hands, you chose a finger at random. He tried to wrestle it from your grip though he was too weak to do so. You placed the needle under his fingernail and slowly pushed it as far as it would go. Warthin managed to hold it together for the first few. As you jammed another under the same nail, he was crying and begging for you to stop. 

"If I recall, I don't believe you showed me kindness like that at any time. I'm very much into the whole 'eye for an eye' thing." 

You moved on and did the same thing to his other fingers until you were out of needles. Shame. You had wanted to do his toenails, too. You paused to think before yanking some of the needles out of his fingers, ripping a scream from him. You would simply spread the love with the needles from there. The toenails he tolerated far less well. He tried kicking and screaming and begging. He was going to run out of voice soon and this wasn't even the worst of what you had planned. 

Blood dripped from his feet and the tips of his fingers. Should have saved one for his cock. Oh well. There was plenty of time for that later. You picked up the hammer and some of the nails. You held the nails between your teeth casually, as if you were putting up a picture frame. You were hanging up a masterpiece... of sorts. Your lip curled as you tasted metal on your tongue. It reminded you of Kid, reigniting your anger towards him. Flipping a nail around between your fingers, you decided hands and feet first. That would force him to be still. You centered a nail on his hand and pressed it flat against the wall. When you brought the hammer down, the fleshy crunch of the metal separating bone and connective tissue was almost completely drowned out by Warthin's screaming. The next hand was the same. The feet were harder to nail down because of their shape, naturally. The problem solver that you were, you broke his ankles with the hammer so you could bend the feet to your liking. Then you nailed those down, too. 

Next, you meticulously placed nails so that they were just under the skin, nailing them along his arms and any place that was flush with the wall. The idea wasn't to hold him in place with these. It was so that he would be forced to hold still. If he didn't, the nails would rip through the thin layer of skin. The evenly spaced drips of crimson running down his body really did look like some sort of macabre art. You stood back to admire it before taking the hammer to his kneecaps. The sick crunch that they made gave you goosebumps. At this point, Warthin was sobbing.

"Just kill me... please."

"Oh I will, you fucking worm." You licked your lips and got into his face. "I will kill you over and over again, until I'm satisfied. And every single thing that you did to me, and I mean every single thing, will be repaid." You pulled another needle from his hand and held it in front of his face. You dragged the point of it over his cheek before putting it at the entrance of his nostril. "Plus interest." Pushing the needle in, Warthin started shrieking again, his voice cracking with fatigue. You didn't stop until you felt the tip hit bone, just before tickling his brain.

You sighed, feeling a bit better. Still, not enough to sate you. Your eyes bounced among the remaining prisoners that were staring blankly in fear back at you. You mushed your hand against your cheek and grumbled in thought.

"Mini, I can't choose." The boar had been patiently guarding the door. "You pick."

The boar rose from her sitting position and her hooves made distinctive footsteps across the flooring. Her broad, pink-tinted nose glittered in the low light and you could see it twitch. The boar's head hung with intent and she sniffed each prisoner. You whole-heartedly believed that animals could smell fear, and that animals took after their owners. Although you considered Mini to be a partner, not a pet, she still adopted some of your personality. Minerva came to a stop in front of one of the men chained to the wall. Her head turned slowly towards him and her ears flicked forward. The man instantly pissed himself, further solidifying your beliefs.

"Him, huh?" You sat on one of the torture racks. "Hmm. You start. I'm tired."

Minerva bit down on one of the man's legs and pulled. Unfortunately for the man, he was still chained to the wall. Once the chains pulled tight, Minerva shook her head like a dog. Underneath the rattling of the chains, you could hear wet pops and cracks as joints tore. 

"My mistake. Let me help you with that." You touched the chains and they unlocked with your devil fruit, returning to your seat afterward.

The man was free. He tried with all his remaining strength to get to you, knees and ankles bending unnaturally. Minerva went after him, but you put your hand up to stop her. You wanted to watch him crawl so desperately across the floor. Chuckling, you called after him, like a dog. 

"C'mon. You can do it, Fido." You clapped your hands. "You dumb fucking mutt."

He continued to move towards you, sweat rolling down his forehead with pain and effort. When he got within arm's reach of you, you waved Minerva to continue. The boar grabbed his foot in her mouth, jerking him backwards. She tossed her head and threw him up in the air. The ceiling wasn't very high, so the poor sap hit the wood and fell back to the floor. In a very excited way, she flung him in the air again and caught him with the business end of her tusks, impaling him. Dark red blood ran down her snout, soaking into the fur and dripping from her chin. She shook him around like a rag doll and warm blood spatter hit you. It was like watching a puppy play with a dead squirrel. The iron taste hit your tongue as you laughed. So cute. The boar dragged him against the wall to slide his body off her tusks. The she grabbed his leg again and hit him against the ground and the wall. The man had stopped screaming a few minutes after he was gored. He bled out. 

There was a pile of barely recognizable humanoid flesh at Mini's feet. You rose from your seat to select one of the cleaver type blades. What kind of host would you be if you didn't feed the prisoners? With one solid whack, the blade severed the lower leg. That didn't have enough meat on it for your liking. A few more good hits and the thigh was freed. If not for Mini breaking the femur, it would have been a lot more difficult to get through. It was a lot heavier than it appeared. You tucked the cut of meat under your arm and left the rest for Mini to dispose of. 

You dripped blood all the way to the kitchen. You had no idea what time it was and thankfully the it was not in use at the moment. One, you didn't want to see Killer and two, you had to play chef. Placing the meat down on a cutting board, you pulled out a big pot. You left bloody fingerprints on just about every surface as you boiled the partial leg. Killer would be pissed and that made you smirk. It smelled a lot like pork, and looked a lot like pork, and it probably tasted like pork, too. You wouldn't be indulging in the delicacy, however. You shredded the meat off the bone and piled it on a plate. 

When you returned to the dungeon, Mini had finished off the prisoner. There was nothing left but a red stain on the floor. Soon they would all be red stains on the floor. You were eagerly hoping to force feed Warthin the same way he did to you. What you weren't accounting for was his ravenous hunger after several days of starving. You pushed handfuls of his comrade into his mouth and held your hand in place until he swallowed. This was fine, too. You didn't think that any of them had caught on yet, too focused on their bellies clawing from within. You went around the room, like the good little waitress you were and gave everyone their share before coming back to Warthin and giving him the rest. 

"Did you like that? You may speak." A smug grin made its way to your lips. 

"Yes." He didn't look you in the eye.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Captain L/N."

"Be grateful that I even cooked it for you. You could have had it raw, like Mini here." 

The man in front of you turned green, and his living comrades that understood did as well. "W-what do you mean?"

"Uh uh." You tutted. "You better keep it all in. It's good for you."

"W-what is it?!" His tone was more panicked.

"Don't you mean 'who'?" 

You heard vomiting behind you as you watched Warthin struggle to keep from heaving. 

"If you throw it up, I'll make you eat it from the floor." 

He started crying again. "I didn't do this to you!"

"I said I would repay you plus interest. This is interest."

"You fucking bitch!"

You put your hand behind your ear. "That's what I like to hear. Writhe for me, worm!" 

Unfortunately he was able to keep everything down, so you couldn't make him eat his puke. You left with Mini, completely spent. You wanted to keep going, but your powers needed to refresh. At least you were courteous enough to return the plate you borrowed. When you returned to the kitchen, it had been cleaned up of your mess. You climbed on the counter to get to the top cabinets, where the good liquor was kept. The best liquor was kept in Kid's room. You weren't about to go in there no matter how much you wanted to get shitfaced though. You grabbed two bottles and made your way to the deck. 

Leaning on the rail at the bow, you pounded one of the bottles and chucked the empty glass into the sea. The other one you nursed as you watched the dark waves. It was sometime at night, probably not long after everyone tucked in. There was no moon tonight. No light reflected from the waves, only blackness. It seemed fitting for your mood. Your legs felt tingly and warm as the liquor kicked in, followed by the rest of your body not long after. 

"That doesn't count as dinner." A soft voice behind you said. "Let me make you something."

You ignored him and took a long drink from the bottle. 

"Y/N..."

"Don't pretend to care now. Fuck off, Massacre Soldier." 

It hurt his feelings that you wouldn't even call him by his name. "I do care!"

"You won't be fooling me again." You finished the rest of that bottle, too, and walked past him without even giving a glance in his direction. 

Killer didn't say anything else. Whatever he said while you were like this would be used against him somehow. He hated seeing you hurting, especially because it was at his own hands. 

You wanted to be alone. There was no where for you to go but the infirmary. You didn't want to be there and you hoped the door between the infirmary and Kid's workshop was closed. In fact, you were going to get rid of it. No need for it anymore. You didn't want to see Kid's face at any point in the near future. The lights were off when you went in and the door was shut, as you had hoped. You placed your hands against the door to the workshop, testing to see if you could muster enough power to transform it back into a plain wooden wall. The hairs on the back of your neck rose a half-second before you felt a presence behind you. 

"What do ya think yer doing, bunny?" 

"Getting rid of this." 

"No the fuck ya aren't." The smell of alcohol overtook you as Kid hovered over you from behind. 

"Watch me."

Kid roughly grabbed your shoulder, spun you around, and shoved your back to the door, pinning your hands above your head in his metal hand. "I'M THE CAPTAIN. WHAT I SAY IS LAW. AND I SAID YA AREN'T!"

"I was blind, not deaf."

Kid grabbed your cheeks with his flesh hand. "Always such a smart mouth. That mouth can be hurtful ya know." 

"Like I said to Killer, FUCK OFF." 

"See that's exactly what I'm talkin about. Talk nice to yer captain." Kid's hand shifted until his thumb toyed with your lower lip.

"Not in the mood, Eustass." 

"I see." Kid laughed. "I'll play along." He bent down to kiss your neck. 

"What? No! I'm being serious. Get off me!" You tried to tug your hands out of his grip. When that failed, you pulled your legs up and kicked him square in the chest. "I fucking mean it!"

Kid dropped you and staggered backwards. "Fuck! Okay!" Kid held his hands up, still stumbling a little, either from being drunk or from your kick. "I don't know why yer so upset anyway. We only did what we thought best for ya." Kid reached out to touch your cheek and you flinched.

"Because I thought you wouldn't- I thought you wouldn't- " You couldn't say it, not even half-toasted.

"Want ya anymore?" 

You nodded almost imperceptibly. 

Kid laughed and pulled you in for a rough hug. "Don't be sad, my wee bunny. We wouldn't give a fat damn if yassstayed blind," Kid slurred.

That was their way of showing they cared even if it wasn't how you would have liked. Deep down, you knew that. The superficial trauma that was lurking preventing you from seeing that clearly. There was more than one person in this relationship, which meant there were three points of view to see things from. You thought about forgiving him in the moment, at least before he fucked it up in the worst way possible, classic Kid. 

"Who cares if yagot eyes? Yasstill have a cunt, aye?" Kid howled with laughter at his joke. 

Something that was meant to lighten the mood, snapped the last heartstrings holding you together. He always seemed to say the wrong thing. In spite of the fact that he didn't mean to, he confirmed your worst worries. You were only valuable for one thing. It was hard to discern if he was truly joking. What if those were his true thoughts coming out while he was drunk? The way you were right now, in this fragile mental state, reality and your perception of reality converged and diverged at random intersections. It didn't help that you had also been drinking. This was part of the reason you didn't want to talk to either of them until you calmed down, though you thought you would be the one to say something you regretted in your anger. 

You pushed him away from you, looking up at him with wet lashes. "Why would you say that?" 

He was still laughing when he noticed your wet eyes. "Hah? Whass wrong?" 

"Is that what you really think?" 

Kid had forgotten the last bit of what he said, only referring to the first. "Course, doll."

You swallowed thickly and turned away from him before you could shed a tear. 

Kid ruffled your hair as he left. "M'na go find Killer."

You slid down the door and hugged your knees to you. There was anger and sadness, and you were so sick of feeling those things. Instead, you chose to feel nothing. Tears spilled over but you didn't even know what you were crying for anymore. Because you would consider staying and living as an object just to feel like a part of something? Because you were mourning the loss of someone other than yourself giving a shit about you? Or was it that you were mourning your past self, someone you could never go back to being? You were irreversibly changed will no option to go back. You would have to move forward. 

You woke up on the floor, feeling like shit. It was time to stop wallowing in your feelings. You weren't going to let your emotions take control of you. You were the Sea Snake, the Marine Killer. You were not some lovesick little girl. And you had marines to kill.

Your eye was glazed over as you went back to the dungeon with Mini. There was one thing on your mind and it was violence. That always made you feel better. As you did the day prior, you sealed the door. You were not to be interrupted. The smell in this room was enough to fell a horse. It reeked of decomposition and death, a sickly sweet, sulfurous stench. By the time you were done, the rookies would have a hell of a time cleaning up. 

"Good morning, fuckwads." 

You knew exactly what you wanted to do today. Going straight for the knives, you picked out some of the smaller ones. Warthin was first. He would always be first. First, you ripped out the needles from underneath his nail beds. You may have missed a few. Who cares? Next, you made a move to take the nails out of him, but you stopped. Instead, you removed his shackles so he was only attached to the wall by the nails. 

"Come on. Come get me. You're free," you taunted. "Here. I'll even give you this." You curled his fingers around one of the knives. "Come on then."

False hope rose in his features. He really thought he had a chance. With a roar, he pulled himself from the wall, some nails staying embedded in it and ripping his skin off. Others were still in him. He took a step toward you and fell immediately. There was no strength in his muscles. You stepped on his wrist until he let go of the knife. You picked it up and kicked him so that he was face up. You stepped on the nails that remained in his flesh, pushing them further in. In a matter of minutes, you had him hung from the ceiling. 

Picking all the nails out of him and throwing them on the floor, you circled him. "I'd like to start with a fresh canvas." You paused. "One moment." Before you healed his injuries, you needed to see him die again. You strategically placed small cuts all over his body, watching the blood create intricate designs as it poured down his skin. The rhythmic pattering of his blood trickling onto the floor was soothing. As the flow slowed, you focused your attention to his eyes, watching the life fade out of them again. After using your devil fruit to heal him, he gasped back to life. He looked healthy as ever. It was a warm feeling, knowing that you would give him a brief moment of relief before you would rip it all away again. 

Grabbing one of the small knives, you began the painstaking process of skinning him. The first cuts were always the most satisfying, watching the bright orange-yellow fat poke through as you separated the layers. You grabbed the skin layer and began to cut it away, the silvery fascia, like a spider web sewing the skin down, gave way to your blade with a sound like peeling a sticker off glass. It was music to your ears, the chorus of which was Warthin screaming and sobbing.

"Too bad you don't have any tattoos. It would be fun to send your skin to marine HQ." You blew air out of your nose. "It's no good if there's no way for them to recognize that it's yours. You get it. You did send my eye after all." You briefly stopped what you were doing. "Actually... yeah let's go ahead and take care of that." 

"N-no. No. No. NO!" He screamed louder and louder as you approached his eye with your blade. 

"Shhhh. Don't worry. I'll put it back tomorrow and we can start again. This devil fruit power is really great, isn't it?"

You dragged your knife under his eye, marring him the same way that you were marred. It was unnecessary to do that to remove the globe, but he needed to match. You slipped your thumb into the socket and popped it out, blunt dissecting the muscles off so that it was free. You dangled it in front of his other eye before tossing it in Mini's mouth. Then you went back to what you were doing. You sighed. Skinning was very therapeutic. 

Hours had gone by before you were done. There was no light down here, so there was no sense of time passing. It was more for the prisoners, though it was true for you too. Because of your focus, you didn't really get thirsty or feel hunger. All you cared about was doling out punishment. 

"Oh, fuck." You were on the last portion of Warthin's skin when you buttonholed it. You made a noise of disapproval. "Well, we're gonna have to start all over again." 

Warthin took a break from screaming to glance at you, horrified. You smiled back at him.

His skin looked like a discarded leather jacket on the floor. After putting it all back on him, a few hours more and you had re-skinned him perfectly. In fact, maybe you would turn it into a leather jacket. Was that too far? To wear human skin? You looked at the remaining prisoners. This opportunity shouldn't be wasted on destruction. There was creation to explore. 

You pulled two prisoners off the wall. They were still shackled to it, but had room to walk. Ever since the day with the fruit, you had wanted to try this. Placing a hand on both men, they started to glow and seemed to be sucked together, melting into each other. They became one person. The way they were twitching and stumbling, it was possible the brain did not meld correctly. Using your devil fruit, you separated them again. That didn't go correctly either. One had three limbs and the other had five. After shuffling them together a few more times, they were back to being two separate people, mostly. They might not have the correct amount of fingers per hand, but they added up to ten. 

You played with them like they were dolls, taking them apart and putting them back together again. One man had four arms now. Another had feet for hands. You gave one a third eye, then harvested it and transplanted it into Warthin. He looked cold so you made him a jacket from another prisoner's skin. You had placed his skin on one of the tables and started to fill it with organs you made copies of from the others. You borrowed a few bones from the prisoners as well until you could make a complete skeleton. You had everything but the head and the muscles. From one of the men that didn't come back so well from being fused, you stripped muscle, just the major ones. It would take too long to do all of them. You borrowed his spinal cord too. With your devil fruit, you were panting as you wove everything together into a fucked up humanoid body.

The man who you borrowed most everything from, you took a cleaver to his head, severing it. You would need it to keep Warthin's body alive. Taking the same cleaver, you separated Warthin's head from his body. Quickly, you fused the other man's head to Warthin's body and Warthin's head to the patchwork mannequin you had made. The other man shrieked so you knew that was successful. Warthin's head, however, was not doing anything. You punched the chest of the meat suit a few times with no luck. There were some limitations to your powers. You couldn't create life. 

Growling in frustration you ripped Warthin's head off the failed body prototype and traded it back with the other man so that he was reattached to his original body. 

"YOU'RE INSANE! WHAT THE FUCK?!" Warthin screamed when his consciousness rebooted. 

"If you have enough energy to scream like that, then you must not be hurting enough." You took a step towards him.

"DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER, YOU PSYCHO BITCH! HELP! HELP! GET ME AWAY FROM HER!"

"That's hurtful. You liked me plenty when I was the one chained up. How does it feel to be a piece of meat for my pleasure?" 

"HELP! ANYBODY!" 

With a wave of your hand sound no longer are out of his mouth. "You're annoying me." You wanted to get rid of his mouth altogether, however you had plans for his mouth. You released him from the ceiling and dragged him to one of the other prisoners. "I'll give you your skin back. If you suck his dick." You nodded your head to the other man. 

He looked at you with pleading eyes. 

"Be glad it's only your mouth today." 

His eyes went wide and he paled. 

"Yeah, no. Unfortunately you did rape me quite a lot. And I have to keep my word that I would repay every single thing you did to me." You turned your attention to the others. "Shouldn't be a problem with you guys, right? You love to rape." You shoved Warthin to his knees and kicked him closer to the other prisoner with your foot. "Get to it."

NEXT

Tag List: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

[nalariverofficial]

Warning: bug rant/analysis

Some people are saying Xander is betraying Chris again. Either by telling Ethan what happened, or by denying Chris's choice to have Ethan stay with him.

But its not betrayal. In one video (nothing breaks like a heart:)

Its brought up to Xander... What wouldve happened had it been Blake that died and not Mike? And Xander, realizing he stelped out of line, did not lash out again, even after being slapped. He knew he was in the wrong. This is a respectable man who knows the difference between right and wrong, and who knows when he's made a mistake.

So of course he told Ethan. Ethan deserved to know what really happened to his nephew mike. Because he has also been forced to think "what if this happened to blake?" Knowing what Xander knows, of COURSE if he were in Rthan's situation, he would want to knoe the truth.

And Ethan's decision to leave was perfectly valid. Imagine the person who hates you most, who has attempted to kill you and later on actually DID, was the one to tell you that your nephew was murdered by your lover. When your lover couldnt even tell you what he did himself. Hearing from someone else what Christian had done definitely hurt more than what it wouldve had Chris told him from the start.

And concerning the "defying Chris" thing this video. It was goddamn clear at the start when Chris was deciding FOR ETHAN where he would go, and what would happen, that Ethan wasnt happy or comfortable with it. But he didnt have a chance to say anything until Xander interrupted Chris. This is Ethan's LIFE we're talking about. He deserves a chance to speak and choose what to do about it.

Xander was merely extending that right to Ethan's own life. Its HIS life, why doesnt he decide? Cant he talk? Its his choice to make with HIS life. You dont have to speak for him, Chris.

Christian assymed because they were lovers at one point, that Ethan would clearly stay with him. Its really not hid fault, honestly. He didnt know thar Ethan knew about the truth behind Mike's death. So of course he'd want to stay with him. He probably just thought Xander was bsing unnecessarily rude and cold to him. Because of course my (ex)boyfriend who clearly still cares would rather stay with me than the person who hates him. Its a valid assumption to make. But once again, Xander coming in with the logic:

Did Ethan ever excplicitly say he wanted to stay with Chris? Its a cinsent thing,, Christian. Did he ever tell you that he wanted to stay with you, or are you just assuming.

This is where i tell you about the thing i love by. What happens when you assume things?

Makes an ASS- out of -U- and -ME. Ass-u-me.

Xander was just giving Ethan a rught to speak, and a right to choose what happens with his life. Honestly it reminded me of a custody battle, where one parent is so sure that the child would stay with them over the 'loser/poor/raggedy' parent, but the kid would rather be with the other parent, because the ASSUMING parent, is actually an asshole.

Either way, Xander was just being a respectable man. He knows whats right and wrong. It was wrong of anyone to try and make decisions about a persons life, right in front of them, without asking what they want. If Ethan was too scared/upset to dp it himself, god be damned if Xander didnt stand up for a man condemned.

Chris didnt know Ethan knew. Thats why he's so shocked (also bcs, once again why would Ethan chose to stay with someone who hates him?)

Ethan's choice and reaction were valid. He knew about Mike before he "confessed" as Dean before the police. He willingly sacrificed himself for Chris. But he isn't about to stay with a man who killed his nephew, even after being revived. He's done more than Chris deserves from him, he's not about to keep giving. Ethan is breaking his own cycle of self-sacrificing, especially concerning people who haven't yet earned that sacrifice. It doesn't matter if Ethan loved Chris. Chris killed his family, his found family, and was lying to Ethan from the very start of their relationship, just to keep Mike's death from Ethan. Ethan didnt owe him anything, hut he still gave up everything for him.

He's starting to get his sense of self back. It's not selfish to put his own mental health fjrst, its not betrayal. He is just finally starting to realize it is not worth his LIFE for someone who's already taken a lot from it. When Christian apologizes and earns Ethan's favor back, and they're on equal ground, then maybe it should be considered. But that relationship was doomed since the first date and the first kiss. You can't build something healthy on lies.

[spaceytoxinz]

saw your gideon edit and the comment you made saying you associate him with industrial music (iirc) and I think thats really unique.. what genres or artists do you associate with the other exes + if you have any more for gideon him too im really interested in these playlists...

JOYOUS OCCASION.

I do have a gideon playlist though, pretty short but i feel like it gets his general vibe across [imo]. I made it like last year i think. Its the only one i have besides the 2 playlists i have for my oc

continuing with Gideon though, he reminds me of industrial because in different medias he’s associated with either Indie/pop rock or techno. So i just slapped industrial onto him because it sits pretty well in the middle of the two. because im cringe like that]. Industrial, some electropunk [not rlly msi ripoff bands, more like Elias and the Error], general EBM, new wave and ofc the obvious techno/pop rock. I also chose industrial because of the raw, edgier themes songs usually tend to revolve around. His main artists would be like, NIN, Death Spells, KMFDM probably, Depeche Mode, etc. Though ik he bumps Hamburger Lady once in a while /j [also some songs by Romeo Santos cause bros kinda insane about his relationships]

Matthew Patel is musicals [i wasn’t much of a theatre kid i only sang my parts when my friends would randomly perform Heathers outside of class in midde school. I was never super invested in musicals though.] and emo music. He honestly kinda reminds me of the entire 2016 emo revival with the “Holy Emo Trinity” or whatever. Though ofc this shit takes place in like 2005 so its not the same. He reminds me more of Midwest Emo than Post-hardcore emo. Maybe he would listen to shit like Sleeping with Sirens but for some reason its hard for me to imagine. To be fair its also because i grew up with second wave emo [i think its second wave. mostly the end of it but jt altered my life and ive seen shit that would occur in the scene thanks to my older sister] so i have a specific idea of the different types of emos at the time. He’s much more emotional and theatrical to me which is why i choose midwest emo over post-harcore/emocore. Also hes zesty so brittany spears.

I usually associate Lucas Lee with old school Reggaeton. Just based on personal headcanon about how he looks like a specific genre of Latino in the early 2000s idk to describe it, im also from the west coast so theres that. But ofc the anime gave me a reality check and i realized this mf is still a skater. so of course you have punk rock/pop punk. so the range goes from Daddy yankee and Don Omar to mf The Offspring and Anti-Flag. I’ve thought about making a playlist for him, i just gotta figure out how to organize it the same way i did for Gideon and how his playlist has both bachata and industrial.

Todd would stray more away from electronic heavy music unlike Lucas and Gideon. In my head I also associate him with pop punk, basic bands like Fall Out Boy, The Offspring, Bowling for Soup whatever. Indie Rock like The Killers, The Strokes, Queens of the Stone Age probably. Honestly basic level radio rock that people argue the genre of. Though another headcanon is that most of the music he grew up with was like, basic level metal. Shit like Metallica and AC/DC. I also do think about him while listening to Los Infieles by Aventura because hes a cheating ass mf.

quick note for todd, i also have a headmate based off of a specific way an artist depicted him in fanart, who wouldn’t stop listening to skrillex a while back for almost a month straight so yeah. theres that.

As for Roxy, she reminds me a little more of Post-Hardcore and RIOT GRRRL. Shes not rlly emo but some of her aesthetics overlap so why not lol. I don’t know enough RIOT GRRRL bands other than Le Tigre [also the the Empty>>>>> that song is peak]. But bands like Kittie, Jack off Jill, Saosin, etc. Since my music taste mostly revolves around Rock/EDM and because various soundtracks having a theme song for her, she also reminds me of trance or eurodance. Can’t name any specific artists for those two genres i only know a handful of songs. I can’t rlly put her into one genre of music like the others, i feel like a lot suits her. Fuck it she listens to Lady gaga too. I only know for sure that she reminds me of Devi McCallion and the artists mentioned above. She would be okay with me playing my cringe ass music on the aux cord i think /j

For the Twins. The obvious answer is basic EDM. But i feel like one of them is a little more experimental than the other while one of them would focus on being more melodic. They both remind me of Aphex Twin and Venetian Snares. Ngl though they kinda remind me of 2000s/2010s hip-hop/rap in a way that i can’t fully explain. I have no specific artists nor subgenres to describe it unfortunately because i have a very basic level examples i heard on the radio growing up. i think its cause theyre always at some party/event depending on which media. They remind me of the instrumental to Black and Yellow by Wiz Khalifa tho.

yeah uh, most of my music taste revolves around rock and EDM plus the various genres i grew up with so honestly there’s probably more out there i haven’t listened to yet that could be better fits for them. i like music lol. I also gotta reread the comics to get a better understanding other than what i remember.

[theheirofthesharingan]

Hi there! So you didn't watch Boruto but just in case you were interested, here's a quick summary of everything that has happened so far (canon only) :

🔴The birth of Boruto Uzumaki :

Our boy Boruto is born into luxury: Hokage dad, fancy apartment, Shadow Clone babysitters, and a mom who can benchpress demons. But he’s mad. Why? Because "Daddy is too busy running a village to attend Parent Teacher Day." Tragic. So, like every angsty anime kid, Boruto joins a ninja academy just to rebel by... becoming a ninja.

🔴The Chunnin exam arc :

Boruto, allergic to effort, slaps on a Scientific Ninja Tool to cheat during exams. Naruto catches him red-handed and publicly disowns him faster than you can say "Dattebayo!" But THEN! The alien Momoshiki crashes the party like it’s a Naruto movie crossover, and Boruto ends up saving the day with help from daddy and Sasuke, of course. As for the prize, he got a glowing Karma tattoo that basically screams “You’ve been marked by space demons.”

🔴The Kara arc :

Enter Kara: a villain group with a budget, a vibe, and a leader named Jigen who’s definitely not a vessel for an evil space god named Isshiki. (Spoiler: he is.) Kawaki enters the chat, a traumatized, tatted-up boy with anger issues and amazing cheekbones. Naruto adopts him like a stray cat, and now Boruto and Kawaki are brothers but rivals but maybe frenemies but also trauma-bonded. It’s complicated

🔴Isshiki :

when Isshiki attacks, Naruto unlocks Bayron Mode, which is basically Super Saiyan but with consequences. He looks cool for five minutes, beats Isshiki, but loses his beloved fox buddy in the process. Sasuke also got nerfed because no one is allowed to have both eyes in this economy

🔴 Code arc :

With Jigen and Isshiki gone, Code takes over Kara with all the menace of a teenager who listens to too much emo music. He wants revenge, power, and maybe a hug. He gets claw marks instead. He also teams up with Eida (a simp magnet) and Daemon (a child who could solo Goku if he wasn’t too busy being annoying)

🔴 Kawaki's emo phase arc :

Plot twist! Kawaki becomes so obsessed with Naruto’s safety that he decides to murder Boruto. Boruto dosen't stay dead. Thanks to Momoshiki, who’s like that creepy uncle who won’t leave your soul, Boruto revives and is now half alien. Hooray?

🔴Two Blue Vortex manga :

After doing a disappearing act for three years, Boruto returns looking like he’s been through a Pinterest glow-up and trained with John Wick. Meanwhile, Kawaki’s out here rewriting history like he’s got admin rights to everyone’s memories. He literally made the whole village think he's Naruto’s biological son. Sarada’s the only one whose WiFi wasn’t hacked, so she’s just standing there watching everyone go full Truman Show, trying not to scream. Meanwhile, Code is still around, trying to be a villain, but he just shows up, talks big, gets punched, and leaves.

Oh, and there are ninja trees now! Carnivorous, DNA hacking trees, because chakra wasn't weird enough already. Boruto’s main job now? Dramatic rooftop stares, cryptic warnings, and trying not to stab people who think he's the enemy.

Thank you for your service, anon. It was really helpful. I've seen a handful of clips of Boruto, entirely Sasuke-related content, but have had no idea about the other characters, but it makes sense now.

Also, is Momoshiki the same guy who has that iconic fight against Sasuke and Naruto, because I have seen it, and Sasuke looks fine there!

[brekwrites]

Howdy Brek!! I hope you're doing well! I love your writing, especially where Sun and Solar are the protagonists, you write their relationship in such a beautiful, sexy and tender way.I hope this isn't taken the wrong way, but there's a scenario between the two of them that's been on my mind since the last chapter of "What if". And since I don't like the anguish of pure pain without comfort because my heart and soul are weak, I couldn't help but think of a scenario where even though Solar revives with bloodlust, that doesn't necessarily mean there has to be a sad ending, because it would be a Solar who at times becomes a feral vampire and that idea besides being terrifying can also be VERY SEXY if it turns into something romantic.Imagine Sun helping to control the ""thirst"" of him boyfriend Solar (it doesn't have to be just bloodlust, it could be hunger for star power too, perhaps... and other instincts and primitive needs heheh) until New Moon finds a way to "cure" him. But Sun would definitely be safe because he's the vampire Solar's partner.I personally would love to throw New Moon into that mix but I understand that some people don't like the concept of polyamory where siblings share a boyfriend.Anyway, this is by no means an order, just an idea I thought someone who enjoys Sun and Solar's sexy and romantic content might like.You don't have to reply to this message if you don't want to ok! Take care and again, I love your stories!

Hi!! I have actually been turning this idea over in my brain since the recent episode. I agree with you. Maybe the combination of bloodlust, but it’s still physically Solar, who doesn’t need blood to survive, but still needs to sate those urges? And blood itself isn’t doing anything for him, and he’s so hungry even though he’s eaten, and he ends up biting and feeding on Sun or New Moon. I honestly like both ideas, but as divergent possibilities.

I could see a Solar that was already in a relationship with Sun being brought back, Sun trying to comfort him and being so close and he’s so hungry. Sun realizing what he wants and offering himself up, and we get that nice topping from the bottom vibe I enjoy with them. Solar’s physically dominant, he’s feeding on him, but he’s being so, so careful, and Sun is the one that’s in control, because he has what Solar needs, and in the beginning he’s having to reassure Solar that it’s okay for him to have this, he’s willing to give it to him, he wants to give it to him. Yeah, that shit slaps.

I could also see a Solar that was crushing on Moon before he died being completely embarrassed that the object of his affections is seeing this side of him. Moon is trying his best to help provide for him, but it’s not working, and one day he gets too close at the wrong moment and Solar’s instincts kick in and he can’t help it. He bites him. And Moon makes this noise that’s… hmm. Queue lots of flustered apologies and both of them retreating to think about wtf they just learned about themselves. Eventually Solar goes to apologize and Moon just blurts out that he didn’t mind it, actually, and he really likes Solar, actually, and he wouldn’t mind a repeat performance.

I’ll add both to my possible fic list, and maybe you’ll see them in the future. My idea list is LONG tho, so it might be a bit! Could make a nice halloween special lmfao.

Thanks for yapping with me, this was fun! If anyone else wants to send me fun ideas to theorize about and get a quick little blurb like this one ^ and MAYBE (no guarantees) a future fic if the inspiration strikes, feel free!

[bumblebee-is-best-boi]

Woah...

Just sitting here at nighttime thinking about TFFL... and how the war started in that universe.

(Reminder, this is my fan continuity)

(stuff down below the cut)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Megatron might have started using the Decepticons to attack the Senate, blow up many things, and just overall went strong... Orion was the one who actually started the Decepticons in the first place. He was the one who brought up the idea of forming the Decepticons, even rallying up a few and starting it off along with Megatron. He planted the idea of a full on revolution in Megatron's mind.

But Megatron was so mad at the Senate he wanted them completely gone. Erased. Orion wanted them to step down from power, Megatron wanted them dead.

When it came to the point where this specific idea about what to do with the Senate started to become closer, Megatron and Orion started clashing, to the point where Megatron just couldnt take it anymore, severed the conjunx bond, and forced Orion out to take over the Decepticons completlely.

Somewhere along the line, Orion becomes Optimus (how he becomes Optimus is hush hush for now :D), and he decides to start up a new group, the Autobots, to try and take down the Senate in the way he planned.

Now the Senate has to deal with TWO rebellious groups trying to take them down, in different ways. And these groups are going against each other, clashing at times, sabotaging each other, trying to be the one who takes down the Senate.

The Decepticons win in this race. They take down the Senate their way. This was not how Optimus wanted it to end, but the Autobots cheer, and he couldnt help but cheer at the Senate's fall as well.

At this point, it would have easy to just have ended the whole rivalry and just celebrate over the downfall of the Senate. Of course, thats what Optimus comes over to do, to bring over a sort of alliance so that they could try to fix Cybertron as they dreamed when they were younger.

But... Megatron was too far gone in his anger. He had done what he wanted, but he was also so mad at Optimus. So mad that Optimus became a Prime. To him, it was just all a slap of the face that made it felt like if he was being mocked, that this was a way that the world told him that Optimus was actually better than him. That Optimus was the perfect hero, and Megatron was not. It seemed like being a Prime was the only thing that made Optimus so well liked, according to Megatron. He couldnt understand how Optimus was getting so praised...

And you know who praised Primes? The SENATE. Megatron thought Optimus had abandoned his ways, and wanted to bring back the Senate. This brought him over the edge. Now all he wanted to do was to erase Optimus, which he thought would stop the Senate from ever returning.

And thats how the war officially started.

Megatron wanted to erase a reminent of the Senate... that wasnt even there... over the time, as the war went on, battle after battle, this constant shadow wore down on him, but then, it wore down to the point where he forgot about the reminent and wanted just to take Optimus down. Like when you say something to yourself over and over again, but over time it starts warping until it becomes something else entirely.

He gets so focused on that... that he does things that he would normally have never thought of doing (The Triple Changer Experiments are one of the biggest examples. Before the war, he would have never thought of dooming any Cybertronian to such a scarring thing). His original ideals... gone. He kept chasing a ghost that never existed.

He only realizes that he lost his way when he finally gets what he wanted and kills Optimus.

Breaking down, realizing he had become the very monster he was fighting, he then ends the war by surrendering, after Primus does his little god thing after the Final Battle.

But of course, he still has to face the consquences. Optimus, after being killed by Megatron (then revived), is less inclined to stand up for Megatron. But hes still willing to give a little mercy.

So he jails Megatron.

Which is probably a very safe idea, since alot of the Autobots, and even some of the Decepticons, want him dead coughcoughTheTripleChangerscoughcough.

So basically, Optimus and Megatron were in love, but Megatron fell out of love.

Optimus still loved Megatron, and tried to fix what was broken, even while he was with Ratchet. Optimus might have not wanted to conjunx with Megatron again, but at least they could have been close again like how they were when they were younger.

Then Megatron killed Optimus.

After that...

Megatron realized he still loved Optimus after all these years.

But Optimus, after being revived...

The fact that Megatron killed him killed a big chunk of his love for Megatron.

So... when Megatron fell back in love, Optimus fell out of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

oh man i just realized how much i have written.

Also im a teeny bit sleepy so i might have been babbling bullshit T>T

If you want to ask me anything about what i have here im always open to talk!

[sophieinwonderland]

Honestly, my biggest fear is that Democracy is a fad. It feels like humans are just predisposed to eventually hand power over to tyrants. Whoever wins, it's way too close considering one is a felon who tried to illegally overturn the last election.

And when Democracy dies, what happens then?

Who would give up power to revive it?

I'm not just angry about the state of the United States. But also about how a majority of Russians seem to be backing the invasion of Ukraine while slapping even heavier restrictions on LGBTQ right. And about how China has overturned their term limit restrictions to allow their leader to potentially remain in control indefinitely. I think about how the Taliban has recently gone so far as to ban women from speaking in public in Afghanistan.

Days like this... it's hard to see the good in humanity.

I mean, the upside is that this is still one of the best periods in human history to be alive.

But that also just shows how utterly bleak human history has been.