#should i dare let people perceive me....

[kyugens]

is it time....that i finally work on a promotion post.....

[candy69gurl]

Noncon w gojo but reader is resisting the whole time so he ends up tying them down. And he’s not even trying to be nice about it, he’s degrading her and choking her all that stuff 🤭

BREAKPOINT

PAIRING yandere Gojo Satoru x f!reader

WARNING non/con, unhealthy relationship (red flag Gojo), use of vulgar words, manipulation, humiliation, fingering on kitchen counter, bondage (hands only), blowjob, cumming in mouth, raw sex, breeding kink, orgasm denial, forcing to say stuffs, clit rubbing, pussy eating, nipple play, choking, degradation, lactation kink, multiple orgasms, oversensitivity, creampie, manhandling, so much yanderee

NOTE twitter link here.. sorry for posting late

Dating Gojo, the incredibly good-looking and powerful guy, isn't as simple as you'd think. He frequently reminds you of your perceived inferiority compared to him, and that he could find someone better.

Every time you're with him, he's makes you feel insecure. He keeps putting you down for your mistakes and flaws, always reminding you of all the things he can do that you can only dream about. He often says mean things about how you look and what you can do, making you feel like you're not good enough for him. Even though he's rude and acts like he doesn't care, Gojo still wants you around, making sure you know he's more important in your life.

He's always flirting with other people, which makes it clear he doesn't respect you. When he's with his friends, he completely ignores you, leaving you feeling invisible and unimportant. Your feelings never seem to be a priority for him. It's clear he's more focused on other things, yet he still wants you to stay. You're beginning to realize this relationship isn't healthy for you, but you still crave his approval and validation, hoping he'll see you as worthy.

Your best friend advises, 'You should leave him, girl.'"

"But I love him," you counter.

"But does he love you?"

You stay quiet. Gojo's words may say one thing, but his actions speak differently. Your best friend is right; you realize you need to do something about it. So you send him a text asking to meet at your place, you need to talk to him over this.

Satoru arrives at your house, his long legs carrying him up to the door with an air of confidence. Knowing he's the strongest sorcerer in the world makes him feel untouchable. As he knocks on the door, a thrill of excitement courses through him, anticipating what awaits inside. The familiar scent of your perfume greets him as you open the door, and he smirks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He takes off his dark blue jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, taking in your appearance before he speaks in a low voice, ... "Been missing my dick, huh?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you snap, glaring at him. He smirks, stepping closer to you, his body heat enveloping you as he looms over you.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Satoru repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice. He raises an eyebrow, letting the question hang between them, challenging you to elaborate. When he doesn't get an immediate response, he crosses his arms, sitting on your couch and regarding you with a cocky grin.

"So, why the fuck did you call me if you're gonna give me this attitude? " he asks, feigning ignorance. His eyes gleam mischievously, daring you to confront him about your issues head-on.

You stand there, silent for a moment, searching for the words to express your frustration. Before you can say anything, Satoru turns away, sauntering towards your kitchen like he owns the place. He opens the fridge, pulling out a beer and cracking it open with a satisfying sound. Your heart pounds in your chest, your frustration mounting as he drinks it so casually.

As he turns back to you, he raises an eyebrow, the unopened beer in his hand. "You gonna talk, or are you just gonna stand there?" he asks.

"This...this relationship isn't working," you finally manage to utter, your voice wavering slightly. Satoru freezes mid-drink, the beer halfway to his lips. The surprise in his eyes fades quickly, replaced with a cold, hard stare. He sets the beer down on the counter, taking a step towards you.

"Break up?" He repeats, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. "You think you can just toss me aside like an old toy?" He growls, his eyes burning with anger. The force of his personality filled the room, making it hard to breathe. Satoru leans in, his face inches from yours, his blue eyes burning with a fire that matched his temper.

"You better think twice about this, princess," He snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Once you break things off with me, you'll be all alone. No one is going to love you."

"I'm sure," you say firmly, standing your ground despite the fear in your chest. Satoru's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. He steps back, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Did you find someone better than me?" He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief and accusation. The air around you thickens, the tension palpable. Satoru crosses his arms, leaning against the counter, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt. "Tell me... Is his dick bigger than mine?"

You shake your head, your voice trembling as you reply, "No, I just..." Satoru cuts you off, gripping your wrist harshly and pulling you towards the counter. You gasp in surprise, trying to pull away, but his grip is too strong.

He pushes you down on the counter, his dick pressing against your ass, the intensity of the contact leaving you breathless. His eyes bore into yours, the challenge in them undeniable. "Does he fuck you better than me?" he growls, his lips grazing your ear.

You struggle against him, your heart racing as you beg him to let you go. "Please, Satoru...let me go!" You plead, your voice shaking with fear and desperation. Satoru chuckles, his grip tightening around your wrist.

"Not until you realise, what a huge mistake you did by making me mad." he growls, grinding his erection against your ass harder. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to defy him.

Satoru pulls down your pants, revealing your ass. He smacks it hard, the sting of his hand making you yelp in shock. Before you can react, he slides his long, cold fingers inside you, groaning softly at the wetness he finds. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he mocks you, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, well, looks like someone wants more of my cock even after saying she wants a break." He chuckles, twisting his fingers inside you roughly. His eyes are full of malicious.

You can't help but moan in spite of yourself, your body betraying your intentions. Your mind screams at you to fight back, but your body responds to his touch, betraying your resolve. Satoru's grin widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Looks like you can't resist me, princess," he taunts, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. "Maybe you don't want a break, maybe you just want me to praise you while I go down on you."

Satoru grips your head tighter against the counter, his fingers thrusting into you relentlessly. Your body buckles under the onslaught, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You moan loudly, unable to hold back your pleasure.

Within moments, you're screaming his name, your body convulsing as you cum hard. Satoru watches you with a satisfied smirk, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his fingers. He continues to thrust into you, milking every last drop of your pleasure.

Satoru carries you mercilessly to your bedroom, leaving you with no time to rest. He quickly sets you down on the bed and his hands rich to unzip his pants. Desperate to get away, you try to crawl away, but he grabs your ankle and uses his weight to pin you down. With a flick of his wrist, he removes his blindfold, revealing his piercing blue eyes. Your heart races, fear and desire warring within you as he takes his blindfold and ties your hands above your head, effectively immobilizing you.

"Please, stop!" you plead, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to release you. "I'm sorry, I take back everything I said! I don't want this!" Your words hang in the air, heavy with regret and fear.

Satoru leans down, his gaze hard and unwavering. "The only sorry I accept is by your mouth showing me how sorry it is by sucking me off." He growls, his finger tracing the shape of your lips. Your heart races and your body trembles at the command.

He pulls himself in front of your head, and you hesitate, your heart racing in your chest. The room spins around you, and the scent of him overwhelms you. You understand you have no choice but to obey, swallow your pride, and submit.

Taking a deep breath, you wrap your lips around his shaft and reluctantly start sucking him off. Satoru growls in approval, his hand entwined in your hair, guiding you. Your mind screams at you to resist, but your body obeys him, your mouth moving rhythmically, pleasing him.

As you continue to suck him off, Satoru's grip in your hair tightens. His movements become more erratic, his breaths growing heavier. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're determined to make this quick, hoping he'll release you soon.

You rest your head, waiting for him to untie you. But instead, he parts your legs, grinning wickedly as he rubs his cock against your clit. You flinch, but he doesn't hesitate. With a swift movement, he pushes into you, stretching you painfully. A cry escapes your lips, tears streaming down your face. You beg him, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Please, be gentle..."

Gojo grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Well, well, I thought you'd be fucking other guys, but you're still tight as hell." He says, thrusting harder into you. "Feels so fucking good." His voice is thick with lust, his movements becoming more aggressive.

Your body tenses, your mind spinning in the turmoil of conflicting emotions. You're angry, yet you can't deny the pleasure he brings you. His words fill you with shame, your skin burning with embarrassment. Despite your struggles, his grip on you is ironclad. You moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure washing over you as he continues to thrust into you. Your mind screams for him to stop, but your body betrays you, responding to his touch.

Every thrust is a reminder of your weakness, your inability to resist him. You can't help but wonder who else he's been with, who else has shared in this intimacy. A wave of jealousy washes over you, your heart beating wildly.

"Fuck, you're gushing," he growls, his hips thrusting into you with increasing intensity. He reaches down, pushing your top along with bra up, his fingers roughly pinching your nipple, twisting it. Your eyes widen, a gasp escaping your lips. "Yet you say you don't want it?" He grunts, his voice thick with dominance.

You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. His words echo in your mind, reminding you of your place. Despite your struggling, your body responds to his touch, your clit throbbing with each thrust.

Gojo mocks you, his voice dripping with venom. "What's that, are you enjoying it, slut?" He asks, his movements becoming more frenzied. "You think you can find someone better than me? Someone who fucks you better than me?"

His words cut deep, your heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. He laughs, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Look at you, begging for my cock, you worthless slut." Gojo sneers, his movements growing rougher. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world, and you think you can insult me? Ha!" He laughs, his eyes shining with malicious delight. "Listen up", he slows down his thrust making sure you listen to him instead of moaning, "Don't you dare bring that break up again, I own you, I own this pussy, I own your fucking heart, I know it, you love my baby and I love you too.. So let's.. let's be like before, me and you, together.. We can have a baby too, our own family .. so beautiful.", with that he starts pumping into you again hard and fast, desperate to fill you with his fertile seed.

Your cheeks burn with shame, your toes curling as his thrusts grow stronger and rougher, and just before you hit your orgasm, he pulls out, "That's what you get for disobeying me."

You gasp, your pussy gripping on to him as he pulls out. "That's what you get for disobeying me," he growls, his eyes blazing with anger. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, your orgasm cut short.

He stands over you, his chest heaving, his gaze locked on your face. You shrink under his gaze not daring to question him why he stopped, you know everything is your fault. NO, he made you believe everything is your fault, but you cannot help but accept it, you cannot help but accept his cock inside you.

Gojo leans down, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Look at you, clenching around nothing, desperate for my cock." He mocks, his hands gripping your thighs. "Worthless slut."

He licks your clit, a cruel smirk on his face. You whimper, your body trembling with need. His tongue teases your clit, your moans growing louder. He chuckles, enjoying your helplessness.

Gojo's hand glides over your body, his touch electric. "Do you want me to finish you off?" His voice is a combination of cruelty and seduction.

Your heart races, your body trembling with need. You nod, unable to speak, your mind filled with a mix of shame and lust. He grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked on your face. "Beg for it, slut." He demands, his voice thick with lust.

You hesitate, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He slaps your pussy, making you jolt. "Beg," he repeats, his voice cold.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, "please, make me cum..." You whisper, your voice barely audible.

Gojo's eyes squint, "Hmm, how about you say you love me 69 times then I will think of it."

Your eyes widen, your heart racing with a mix of anger and desperation. You know you have to do it. "I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." Your voice grows stronger as you continue, each 'I love you' more genuine than the last.

Gojo watches you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leans down, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of your clit. "Keep going.." He orders, his voice rough with desire

You nod, your face heating up with desire and shame. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's tongue traces your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body trembling with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He slips two fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Keep going..."

Your heart races, your body trembling, "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's fingers slide inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body shaking with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes.. yes" He encourages, his voice rough with desire.

You continue to profess your love, your body trembling with a mix of desire and shame.

After what feels like an eternity, Gojo slides his fingers out, replacing them with his tongue. You whimper, your body trembling with anticipation.

He licks your clit, his tongue tracing the curve of your most sensitive spot. "Good girl," he praises you, his voice thick with lust. "Sixty-nine times, I counted each 'I love you.'" He chuckles, his eyes locked on your face. "That's a lot of love for me, baby," he teases, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, let's make you cum."

His tongue traces the your walls, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes locked on your face for your reaction. "You taste so good, so wet and needy."

Your abdomen shaking as you move your hips against his face, you cry out, your body trembling with pleasure as you cum. You collapse there, your heart pounding with a mix of ecstasy and shame.

"Untie me now," you plead, your voice shaking with emotion. But Gojo shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, "Nah uh, not till I cum, filling your little pussy."

He inserts himself back inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your pussy is oversensitive, making you cry out in pain. "No more," you beg, your voice filled with desperation.

Gojo grits his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels your walls clenching around him uncontrollably. He slows his pace, allowing you time to adjust to your oversensitivity.

As you recover, he starts thrusting into you, his movements slow and deliberate at first. His pace gradually increases, his eyes locked on your face. "You like being a slut for your boyfriend, isn't it?" He growls, his voice thick with lust.

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self respect anymore.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become faster, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You're such a good little whore, aren't you?"

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self-respect anymore. "I'm your little slut."

Gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hmphh, keep squeezing me.. A-ah," he growls, his pace increasing even more.

Your eyes roll at the way he's choking and fucking you like a monster, his hands around your neck, his thrusts relentless. Gojo leans down, his lips colliding with yours in a rough kiss.

You moan into his mouth, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hah! You gonna cum again?," he mocks.

You groan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. "Yes.. Hngh- please I am gonna cum again" You admit, your voice shaking with emotion.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become frenzied. "Y/N, let's... try it again.. together... Can't you imagine? How lovely you will look with your tummy swollen and round with my baby, and milk flowing from your breasts. Just think of it", he bites his lips imaging all of that. He unties your hands, letting them grip onto anything they find.

Your mind is unable to make out his words, you just nod, taking his cock like a doll.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your skin as he sucks on your nipple. "Gonna fill you, hmmph," whimpers escape his lips, "You are so obedient for me baby."

As Gojo nears his climax, his thrusts become frantic, his movements fierce. You cry out, your body trembling with pleasure and pain.

His thrusts become stronger, his movements more intense. Your walls clench around him, milking him as you cum again. He roars, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes, cum for me, baby, cum for your strongest boyfriend," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He fills you with his seed, his movements slowing as he finishes. "You did well, baby," he pants, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He loosens his grip on your neck, allowing you to breathe.

You collapse against him, your heart racing with a mix of pleasure and fear. "F' me, am your little.. slut.. ." You whisper, before passing out .

Gojo's lips caress your bruised neck, licking them before giving you a small peck on your lips. "I love you, Y/N, I appreciate you," he mutters, his voice thick with lust. "But I ain't gonna spoil you."

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you fall asleep in each other's arms, exhausted from the passionate night.

In the darkness of the night, he whispers in your ear, "Never gonna let you escape me, my little play thing."

[mandarinmoons]

Could I please request for Spencer where reader is in the bau and her and Spencer aren’t exactly friends but they keep it professional but sassy and one night after a case he comforts her because he secretly likes her ? Tysm ❤️

There’s never a dull moment when working at the BAU, whether it be a psychopathic killer or an evening with the team where everyone could let loose with a glass of wine.

You liked to have your fun, but you were determined to keep things professional with everyone. However, one of your coworkers managed to get closer to you than the others and you had your, dare you say, “unprofessional” moments with him.

Both of your bodies allerted you around the same time when coffee was needed and that was when the majority of the quips between you two took place.

“Half a bottle of sugar again, Reid?”

You watched Spencer pour in the needed amount of sugar into his coffee and noticed a small grin form on his lips.

“I think you should know by now how I take it.”

“Yeah, all sugar and no caffeine at this point.”

The banter between you two kept on going as time went on and you felt your poker face disappear every time he walked into the room, the way you wanted to be perceived by your peers was not going to last, especially after one night.

The team left the office one by one as the workday ended. You were still sitting at your desk, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. The case that was just finished didn’t go as well as planned and it left everyone’s mood sour, especially yours. You were the one who tried to talk the unsub into letting the hostage go, you were so close and yet you failed. You were questioning your abilities and if you should even continue, the guilt was too much to bear.

As you leaned your head back and closed your eyes to rest you heard someone walk up behind you.

“Are you okay?”

You sat up and looked behind you, seeing Spencer look down on you with sad eyes.

“I um, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Spencer sat down on the chair next to you and eyed you up and down, your back slouched against the chair and your head hanging down, biting your lip and eyes still staring down at the papers in front of you.

“You did your best out there.”

You looked up at Spencer and saw his eyes staring back at you, the brown of his eyes having a comforting quality to them.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Spencer looked down at his hands and gulped before continuing, “I know how you feel. There have been times where I think I could’ve done better, acted better, because maybe then they’d still be alive.”

You nodded and looked down at the picked skin along your nails, a bad habit that came out during stressful times.

“But… you can’t let that stop you from doing what you do. Think of all the lives you’re going to save in the future, they need you, we need you.”

It was as if Spencer was reading your mind and knew all of the thoughts going on in your head. You knew that you couldn’t let yourself get too out of hand with your feelings because more people needed you, but you just couldn’t shake it. Hearing it coming from Spencer though felt reassuring, you had no idea how his words managed to be so comforting for you, but you were grateful.

“I need you guys too,” seeing a hint of a smile play on your lips made Spencer break out in a smile as well.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, “Do you, uh, do you want me to help you finish your paperwork?”

“That would be nice of you,” you scooted to the side with your chair and passed a few papers over to Spencer and handed him a pen. Your fingers touched slightly as he took the pen from your grasp and from the corner of your eye you saw his cheeks form a reddish hue.

The rest of the hour was spent more on joking than actually working. Eventually the paperwork was finished and Spencer being the gentleman that he is, helped you into your coat and held the door for you when walking out of the bullpen.

When reaching the parking lot and walking towards your cars, you stopped and faced Spencer.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome but it’s not needed.”

“Yes it is. I would’ve driven myself insane if you hadn’t stepped in and calmed me down.”

Spencer chuckled and looked down, your words were clearly getting to him and making him nervous.

A moment later you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Spencer froze at first but pulled you in closer and rested his chin on your head, you couldn’t remember the last time a hug felt so comforting.

The two of you stayed in the position for a good minute until you pulled back and looked into Spencer’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of-”

“It’s okay, I liked it.”

You two were left staring at each other in the parking lot for what felt like an eternity until someone walked past the both of you and heard them unlocking their car.

“I should go now, thanks again Spence.”

Spencer nodded and walked over to his car, thinking of the nickname you had just called him, meanwhile you melted into the driver's seat of your car, taking in the moment you just had with your coworker. Was he just a coworker? No, he was your friend, and to Spencer you were something more than a friend.

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[shallowrambles]

I love the view that Dean figured out his deeper feelings for Cas in 6 & 7, and the majority of 8 was Dean arcing out of his hero-worship and people-should-never-let-me-down neuroses.

And then.

Post-perceived rejection… (Remember: Cas threw OFF Dean’s hand in Purgatory, and cut OFF cupid’s hand when it was aimed at him.)

So. Late Seasons 8 to mid-12 are Dean actively trying to get over Cas. In s9, he’s off-key paralleled with Josie Sands and Abaddon. (When it’s actually Hannah who’s “the Josie.”) Then he transitions into a reversal-power arc, towards being force-fit into the cartoonish, dare I say ham-fisted Cain role and its parallels. (They spell out the parallel in a distinctly odd way, esp for SPN. Too on the nose. Prescriptive. That’s because it’s actually mirroring Dean’s power fantasy according to Dean’s deepest, least charitable, nihilistic wishes.)

In s10, Dean still appears hung up on Cas, trusting him with the blade and begging him to help kill him if he becomes disinhibited/loses his free will again. Also, “I’m glad you’re here, man,” and Cas’s awkward reply, “Another time. There’s a female waiting in the car.” In a way, Dean’s feelings and fantasies serve to taunt him. The Cain parallel itself feels like a taunt.

Dean may realize Cas “admires” him but it’s definitely not the way Dean wants, that is: not like a secret admirer. Dean is mad for the unbalanced power dynamics re:Cas in the past. Now in Dean’s power reversal: Cas gets the wife treatment and Dean gets paralleled with the powerful Cain figure. He gets to beat Cas just as Cas beat him.

And it’s no accident the Dean’s power reversal arc culminates in a reverse-crypt. Because that’s what Dean’s bitter about. (“That’s not gonna be a problem = You can’t hurt me anymore, not like you did.”) It’s rooted in the bitterness of perceived rejection. That’s why Cas bears the brunt of Dean’s anger here.

Afterwards, Dean feels soooo guilty for being angry.

Later…

At various points, he tries to reassure Cas he’s okay with and appreciates how things are: a best friend, a comrade, a brother. Acceptance!

Dean spent season 10 dealing with his baggage and hoping hopelessly, then in season 11, I think he resolved to accept things. He may have toed the water with sexual tension and short shorts at times, but overall he was trying to live with Cas and let Cas off the hook.

He also encouraged Amara to deal with her own baggage the way he’d worked through his. Season 10 was his reversal arc: him in power for once, with Cas getting the wife treatment and Sam’s corruption being highlighted for once. And in season 11 he was spirited away, dealing with being powerless once more.

After that was done, he tried to swallow his feelings and let go of Cas, the way he encouraged Amara to let go of him.

He may perceive season 11 as his letting go of irrationally wanting Cas. The car scene may represent him giving Cas an out. Even releasing him from any perceived obligations.

So when Cas shows interest in season 12, I do think that threw him! Made him so nervous that he started hoping again, getting all tentative with his little mixtape.

Then Cas returns the damn mixtape. (Burned again!) But instead of getting bitter, Dean says to keep it, it’s a gift. Then he mumbles another “we’re all stronger together,” lil spill to cover his embarrassment.

Because now, he’s fully accepted that he loves Cas. Dean’s feelings haven’t faded so he has resolved to live with them as they are. No matter how many times he gets his hopes up and disappointed.

But now, Dean’s more scared. In season 8 he was ready to tell Cas “I love you.” He spent four years trying to navigate those unrequited feelings and convert them into familial camaraderie.

It’s much scarier in s12 with cosmic consequences on their heads, and Dean with everything he’s ever wanted just at his fingertips.

My fave thing about it all is that Dean and Cas are ready for each other at wildly different points and hardly ever sync up in between all the disasters.

[kbagraces]

Flip A Switch - Lando Norris

Lando Norris Mafia AU

As much as we try to suppress the stigma, strong women will continue to be perceived as intimidating until you learn to love us.

PART 1 - Unnecessary Violence

Women are small. They should act naive, innocent and weak. That's what you were told. That's what i was still told. Mother said it's the most attractive thing a girl can be. My brother said it's the safest thing a girl can be. Daddy said it is the most stupid thing that i could be. 'Be strong', daddy said and to that i would reply with what my mother and brother had instilled into me. Anger would rise up, "You're a bright girl y/n, but you trust too easily. That'll do you no good if you follow in my footsteps."

I wanted to follow in his footsteps, i really did, but i was stuck in the contrasting beliefs of society and my father's expectations. I wanted to do him proud, he after all risked his life everyday to keep our family safe. But i was just a girl, what could i have done?

Daddy never got a real funeral, that's just the way it was for us kind of people. I think of him everyday, but no one dares to utter his name which leaves my mind to be his only place of rest. After he passed, my mother went awol, i haven't seen her in months. My brother is now mad with power, thinking that he can drag daddy's organisation from the pits it collapsed into. He is wrong. Daddy always said Keegan didn't have the ability to work in such a treacherous environment, but of course he never listened.

"Keegan, daddy wouldn't have wanted this. This is so far from how he'd organise things" I exclaimed, chasing after him down the halls of our family home. It was supposed to be an 'event' of sorts to celebrate my fathers life, too little too late i thought, Keegan never celebrated his life when he was actually alive. I was certain this was an attempt at gloating to his so called peers about his ever so important role, despite it being quite the contrary, he is only making things worse, which is literally impossible, but somehow not for Keegan.

"Just because you were dad's favourite does not mean that you know how to run this company, y/n. You're still a little girl. You know nothing. I learnt it all the day Dad bailed on us. Stop acting like he was a Saint, because, if you actually knew anything about how to run this, you would know he was far from it."

I wanted to fight back, but causing a seen was wrong, unnecessary and exactly what he wanted, and you would see me dead before I followed another mans orders, related or not.

The halls were starting to burst with people. The luxurious fabric of suits and gowns brushing against my bare arms as a turned from my brother and stormed away from his ignorance.

The corners of my mouth slightly turned upwards as i caught glimpses of those that i knew but not enough to allow them to want to stop for a conversation. The amount of people i didn't know however most certainly outweighed those that i did and that was how my brother worked. Quantity, not quality. All ego, no class, clarifying to me that this is in no way what my father would've wanted and is unfortunately all down to my brothers stupidity and selfishness.

The mafia is a dangerous place. Being the daughter of a previously feared leader does underpin you with some stereotypes. I, however, wasn't as conformist as the other girls that i knew. I wouldn't let the sleazy sons of other organisations tempt me into going against my family for a below average shag in the back of a stolen car. I'd like to think i had a little more class. As i looked disgustingly at the girls who were doing just that the mingling started as the sound of erratic jazz music drowned out the painfully boring conversations of controversy. Not even a week earlier most individuals were likely to have been literally at war.

I glanced across the room, my mothers 'friends' dotted around, judgemental scowls plastered across their faces. There we certainly some unusual and dangerous occurrences unfolding in front of me.

The jazz music cut off abruptly as my brother clambered on stage a few feeble looking goons following him in a pathetic attempt in looking intimidating, my hand instantly raising in humiliation.

"Well, that's embarrassing." the presence beside me uttered into my ear. My eyes raising in the attempt to recognise who the husky voice came from. Empty eyes were starring into mine, looking as disappointed as i was at my brothers underwhelming speech that he's spluttering out. I hummed in agreement turning back to the mess unfolding in front of me.

"I'm Lando."

Lando.

I recognised his face, flashes of my fathers profiles flickered through my mind as i tried to put name and face to his crime. He once worked here, but was found to be a rat.

"Norris?" Rat.

His eyebrow raised along with the slight quiver of the corner of his lip. "Impressive, you really are your fathers daughter. Perhaps it should be you that is up there." He nodded towards the stage.

An unsettling feeling rushed through my body, pushing his shoulder i questioned, "what do you think you're doing here? Do you not have an inch of respect?"

"I-"

He was cut off as Keegan pinned me as the next victim of his embarrassing 'speech' if you could even label it that. "And there she is." His eyes dark, filled with hatred. "The attention seeker of the family. The reason that dad died. The reason that i was neglected as a child. My father never appreciated me, i was the one destined for this life. I worked so hard to make him proud but princess y/n/n always stole the limelight. Which is why, you're out sis." He spat.

I felt empty, shocked. Out?

A hand wrapped around my bicep dragging me through the crowds of people. My senses finally kicked in after i was out of the hall.

I shook off the grip, "get off me!" I yelled. One of brothers goons looking into my eyes. "Out." He stated, nodding his head towards the entrance of my home. I tilted my head in shock.

"No. Fuck you. This is my fucking house. Who do you think you are?" My arm swung for his face, knuckles connecting to his cheek with unexpected force, after the shock had escaped him he grabbed my arms, pinning me to the wall my face pressing onto the cool surface. I felt the barrel of a gun press into my skull. Fuck. "You just find it so easy to fuck things up don't you. Keegan didn't say kill you, but i do fancy seeing your brains splattered against this wall."

"Why because you think it'll make Keegan love you a little bit more. Aw so cute-," i heard the gun being cocked and then suddenly all of the pressure he held against me fled my body, bang.

Swinging round, I was expecting pain to hit my body, nothing came. There he was lying on the floor, Lando standing above him, gun in hand starring at the victim on the floor. Silence filled the corridor and the hall that i was just forced out of. "Out. Now." he glared at me, his eyes flickering to the entrance doors behind me.

We began walking towards the doors before the guest in hall, looked out in curiosity to see a dead boy on the floor, blood pouring from his head. "I didn't need your help." I demanded as we excited what was once my home.

A snort left his nose, "you know, some how i don't think that is true and you're welcome by the way." We reached his car, to which he nodded his head to.

"You're joking, right? You really are mad if you think i'm going anywhere with you, whether you saved my life or not, i do not want to be around you.", now it was my turn to laugh.

"So you admit that i saved your life?" I rolled my eyes and began to walk down the road.

"They'll be after you. We can help you." he shouted down the road.

"See you around, Norris." I yelled back. No way in Hell am giving him what he wants, at least not right away.

***

Keegan hadn't tried to find me, but opposing gangs had and although i can certainly fight my own in a 'normal' situation, when fifteen groups of ruthless and revenge hungry men are after you it becomes hard to leave your house.

"You could just give Norris a bell." Mandi suggested. Sitting in her box room which in fact had been my bedroom for the last two weeks. She was my only friend and the only one who knew everything about me. But things such as what she just stated shows how she can still be so out of touch.

"No."

"Y/n. Think about it. Your life is at risk and as much as your dad hated the McLarens*, he would've hated you dying more." She attempted to reason, and she was right,. "And who gives a damn about your brother, do you not want to help McLaren in taking him down? He literally tried to kill you!" she exclaimed.

Rolling my eyes, "well no he didn't, just one of his goons."

"You trust too easily. Please just think about it, gorgeous. You're the strongest person i know but right now, you can not fight this battle alone." She sighed getting up from my bed, "love you, goodnight."

"Night Mands."

I don't need your help, but I think we can come to a mutual deal.

-y/n

Y/n, I knew you'd come round. Are you currently busy?

Yes i'm going to bed. I'll discuss terms tomorrow. Night.

————

Masterlist

A/N

*im using the car names as gang names as I'm just that uncreative!

[animeyanderelover]

Who I think would be the least to most difficult Yandere to deal with from the Wolf Pack in Twilight. Let's talk about the worst aspects of them that make them dangerous.

(Yes, I am having a brainrot right now.)

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, clinginess, manipulation, guilt-tripping, stalking, agression

Least to most difficult

Embry Call

Embry is "probably" the most harmless shape-shifter from the entire pack and that is mainly thanks to his shy, reserved and considerate nature. In comparison to most of his fellow wolves at least. He is pretty much the only wolf who is too scared and way too embarrassed to approach you directly after he's imprinted and he gives everything way too much thought. You can't even guess how much thought, care and practice has gone into the moment where he finally dares to start a conversation with you. He wrecks his brain and his nerves even more when he plans to ask you out. Obviously he's still obsessive, possessive and clingy but those traits of his are toned down thanks to his quiet and somewhat flustered personality as he cares about how his darling perceives him. A rejection would be the worst thing that could happen so he's very careful with the way he acts around you and the people you love most. He doesn't want to ruin any meaningful bonds you have with others because of him, wants to be accepted by those people if he could have the best possible scenario.

It is important to mention that he's still a little creep who stalks you for the first few weeks, unable to approach you with his jittery nerves. Whilst this dies down for the most part if you two are a couple and you understand and accept the situation that you're in as his imprint, bad habits hardly die down fully. He's not someone who falls very easily victim to negative and violent thoughts so it's safe to have him with you when you hang out with your friends or fellow family members. He gets jealous after a while sure but surprisingly enough he gives you a while to notice that he's in a slightly uncomfortable position with the lack of attention. Believe me, there are people who have way worse jealous reactions in comparison to Embry's more needy tugs on your clothes all of a sudden as he tenses up when the lack of attention starts affecting him. In general he prefers to not stick out or make a scene. It's within his own comfort and yours too. That results in Embry being able to not come over as a pushover or someone unneccessarily overbearing unless he senses that something is wrong.

The fact that he is somewhat aware that some of the stuff he does stalking isn't something he should do also pays off to him being as considerate as he is. Even if he has a hard time accepting this, Embry knows that personal space matters to you at times too. He could spend every waking second with you but before he risks you growing annoyed and tired of him, he at least makes the effort to leave you alone for a bit. What contributes to him caring so much about your own wishes too is his talent to stay in tune with your own emotions. Embry is very sensitive around you and for that picks up your current mood and it always affects him too. It allows him to be great at comforting you silently when you feel down but on the negative side it also means that you can't keep stuff hidden from him since he senses it when you're lying or are nervous about something. He relies on you, opens up about his own feelings which he normally never tells anyone, and for that reacts very emotional and desperate if he fears that you might leave him. Can you really leave him despite knowing all that?

Seth Clearwater

Seth is in all honesty such a sweetheart and devotee but there are a few things that play in him not being at the bottom of the list. His young age and the naivety when it comes to imprinting are two major parts in it. He has so much to learn about shape-shifting and about the world in general, has only heard stories about imprinting so that leads to him romanticizing everything about it when he finally finds his other half. You're his entire world the moment you locked eyes with him and ever since that moment, Seth has been unable to leave you alone. I'm not kidding, he follows you everywhere and wants to be always with you as he sees this as sort of normal. You're his imprint, he's supposed to stay with you and protect you. Telling him to leave or asking him for some time alone rarely ever works and the only thing you earn are tears blurring his eyes as the thought of leaving you hurts and scares him as his young age leads him to heightened separation anxiety. There are no bad intention of guilt-tripping you behind those tears but it manages to make you feel bad most of the time anyways.

You often find yourself gullible around Seth as he's so easily emotional. If Embry gets influenced by your emotions, Seth exhibits them even stronger than you. If you're happy, he is too but if you're sad, he's even more so. He's terribly sensitive so if he really notices that you're deeply miserable, he starts crying in most cases as he's unable to hold his emotions in. He never means to do anything harmful by being such an open book but his strong emotions coupled with his need to stay with you all the time can be mentally exhausting at times for you. On a positive side note this is what allows him to handle his jealousy better than some of the more experienced wolves though as he's joyful when you are, even if you're not paying attention to him at the moment. Be careful though, he's still one of the youngest of the pack so in moments where he does get furious, he has more troubles not keeping his emotions under control and channeling all of his negative feelings onto the person who elicited them in the first place. This gets especially out of hand if he has shifted.

Seth finds himself relying on you far more than he should, especially in the relationship since he's younger than most other members of the pack. This means on the one hand that you can manipulate him the easiest but it also means that he greatly panics and doesn't know what to do if you're emotionally hurt besides crying with you and acting overbearing. In the worst case he has a meltdown because he experiences your emotions so much stronger. Something that isn't even directly his fault but also plays into his placement is his sister. Leah has yet to find her imprint and remains incredibly bitter about Sam has imprinted on her cousin so I imagine her being very adamant to not let Seth suffer from any pain now that he has found his imprint. If Seth loves you too much to fully blame you from any pain he goes through because of separation, Leah will blame you and cause you to feel bad. At the same time she also realizes that her brother is a tad bit too obsessive and tries to teach him how to love someone in a more normal fashion if you're too soft for that.

Sam Uley

Surprisingly enough, Sam ranks fairly low on this list. I think that is mainly because he's very mature for his age and the fact that he was the first one to shift and had to explain and help everyone who shifted after him is a huge attribute to this. He's the alpha of the pact so that automatically forces him to take up more responsibilities than other members as he makes the decisions most of the time and additionally his pack tends to be a rowdy bunch so he has to remind them at times to snap out of it and act their part. With the most experience stocked behind him, it's perhaps unsurprising that Sam is aware about the fact that his imprint bond causes his feelings to dwell on the borderline of being unhealthy. So he makes the effort to control himself in order to not overwhelm and scare you away from him, he's very careful how much of his emotions he exposes around you. Sam has to stay in contact with you though as any distance for too long physically hurts him. He might be considerate but be aware that he won't leave you alone for too long either.

His experience and practice as the first wolf of the current generation enables him to be able to spend time with you around people without feeling all the time jealous or possessive. It's not a safety hazard to go out with Sam in public places as he lets you spend time with friends or interact with random strangers. He actually puts trust in you unless you prove him otherwise and that trust comes with more freedom for you as you know that he won't interfere unless you signal him so or unless he thinks that something is wrong. You're actually able to talk and rationalize with the alpha if something does bother him and both of you can negotiate certain stuff simply because he acknowledges your own feelings and wishes and tries his best to find a middle ground where both of you are comfortable. Sam leans more into the protective than possessive side and since you're his imprint, he sees it as his responsibility to guarantee your safety and happiness. I feel like especially because his father has given him and his mother troubles, he'd be very determined to make you happy.

Now that we've shaded enough positive things about him, let's talk about the bad stuff which is precisely the fact that he's the alpha and feels like it's his responsibility to make you happy. Because this leadership really shows at times in the relationship because especially if his darling isn't someone who speaks up, Sam will take pretty much control over it. He's very dominant and whilst he isn't domineering and only makes decision which he thinks are best for you, if he has set his mind to something it is very difficult to convince him otherwise. Yes, he is negotiating but only if you agree to his conditions or otherwise he won't let you leave. If something is an absolute "no" in his mind, it'll remain that way and there's literally nothing you can do. If you go against him even if he forbids you something, you'll truly experience all the reasons why he's still dangerous. If you go against a rule he has set, you'll lose his trust and not only that, Sam will grow very strict. Restrictions are suddenly interfering with your life as you fully experience him taking full control for a while. Until you've earned his trust back.

Jared Cameron

We're now entering the zone where things get out of hand, starting with Jared. Now, you might wonder why I've placed him above Sam because on the surface, Jared appears to be rather harmless. He's extroverted and constantly cracks jokes to elicit laughter or a smile out of you. Truthfully speaking though, Jared's problems already start with his perception of the imprint bond. He sees nothing wrong with it and he never questions his thoughts and his actions as a result either. Separation from you is literally one of the worst things you could do to him as he experiences pain and a few of the worst mood swings you'll see. He constantly switches back and forth between moping on the floor in misery to growling at other pack members, irritated and unmotivated. You always have to stay in some sort of contact with him or otherwise he'll ask you immediately why you couldn't come over to him or at least call him or send him a mail. To avoid all potential troubles Jared might experience if you aren't with him, you oftentimes are forced to spend entire days with him. Without a break.

Now, Jared cares about his darling and wants them to be happy with him but if they ever ask him for a short time alone, he'll only end up with a mix of confusion and hurt. He can spend every second with you because you're his imprint, you should feel the same, shouldn't you? The previously mentioned misunderstanding of his view of the imprint bond gives you only more of an headache because Jared is literally unable to understand or accept that you want your privacy at times too and want to spend time without him. Both of you might have gotten into arguments about this a few times already yet you got nowhere as Jared is always too dense to comprehend what you demand from him. What do you know about the imprint bond anyways? He's the shape-shifter, not you. This particular mindset is something that he goes by rather strongly and makes the situation only worse at times. You're human, you don't understand what's going on right now and just like that, Jared has written all your arguments and opinions off as your lack of understanding of his world.

With him around, it's impossible to have a decent conversation with others as he despises it when your attention isn't on him. He starts distracting you and if you try to ignore him or shove him away, he'll only get worse. There are also times where he just doesn't like a person for no rational reason and for that is always very wary and on guard around them. If they get anywhere near you, he'll glare heavily at them. It can or can't go well with him when you're with others he doesn't feel safe around. The moment he pulls you closer to him and you realize the growl vibrating inside his chest, you know it's time to leave though because you're not risking it as soon as you know what he is. Jared is willing to resort to emotional blackmailing if he sees the need for it and once you have him kneeling in front of you, hugging you and sobbing to not be mad at him and to not leave him, you'll find yourself stuck. Once he has realized that something works on you to convince you to not do something, he remembers it and uses it again. Especially arguments are always cut short for that reason as he hates getting in conflicts. Let's just stay happy like this.

Quil Ateara

Quil is almost similar to Jared in a few ways. Both wouldn't necessarily appear all that dangerous upon the first few glances. Quil himself is a very cheerful and happy individual and that only intensifies upon imprinting on you. He's charming and he's constantly complimenting you and in a few ways he's actually a bit better than Jared is. He is handling his jealousy better as happiness is something that makes you look only more beautiful so he just endures it for a while before he starts making sarcastic jokes, something you'll hopefully realize and turn around to give him the attention he so sorely craves. Quil is often taking you outside too because whilst he also enjoys just being somewhere with you where no people and no other distractions are, the city offers the chance for fun dates which he wants you two to have so there won't be such a big isolation factor. Physical separation from you is not something he can deal with at all though and even if he tries, he's unable to do anything after a while as your absence pains him greatly. You often have to come back to get him back on his feet.

Quil harbors a similar mindset as Jared in which he thinks that you probably react the way you are because you don't understand what's going on but differently from Jared, he tries to sympathize with you. Or at least give you the illusion of doing so, a strategy to appease you in order to not get into an unnecessary argument with you. That's a problem with Quil. He backs off and follows your wishes for a while so you calm down before he goes to break them again and act the same way, trying to justify his behavior by saying that he slipped up and that it isn't that easy for him to stay away from you thanks to the imprint bond. He's much more likely to use manipulation on you and it's frightening to think how much he actually calculates behind his happy grin. Technically speaking Quil's darling experiences more freedom than Jared's darling would but the main reason why Quil is higher is because he's far more unpredictable. Jared is with his behavior very frequent to the point where you can anticipate his reactions, Quil on the other hand is much more sly and frankly spoken, scarier.

This man takes matters into his own hands if he sees the need for it and that is a very frightening aspect. Sure, he won't kill or hurt humans unless he's given a good reason but whilst all the previous shape-shifters wouldn't go necessarily much against humans because it's their job to protect them from vampires, Quil will. He's almost apathetic to someone who has harmed or hurt you in any way or form as in his eyes, only someone truly evil could hurt you. It's difficult for such people to gain any forgiveness from him. Even if you forgive them, even if this is a person you still want in your life, if they fail to convince Quil, it's over. He will cut all ties you have with that person and even if your sadness breaks his heart, he views the connection with such a person only as toxic and as a guarantee to get you hurt again. Better cut ties before it hurts more. He doesn't shy away from using threats and intimidation to get the message across and the worst part about it is that he's lying to you. He tells you that he doesn't know why that person is suddenly avoiding you whilst comforting you all at the same time.

Paul Lahote

I think it's obvious why he's placed that high but let's jump straight into the mess that is Paul anyways. His temper is already short as it is so just imagine what it's going to be like once he imprints on his s/o. Paul, from the moment his world has shifted upon looking at you, acts incredibly possessive and dominant, jealous and aggressive. Being with you isn't just something he wants, it's something he needs and whether you like it or not, he's from that point on always sticking with you. Partially he might understand your point of view but at the end of the day, he's feeling incredibly entitled and even desperate as he just can't be away from you. He can't! Why can't you understand that? His entitlement is very difficult to handle as he essentially sees himself due to the imprint bond as the only one who is meant to protect you and who can protect you. So instead of being fully grateful if someone else helps you, he's pissed off that they interfered with a bond they couldn't even begin to fathom. You're not a victim to his ire but he's slightly mad when you ask someone else for help since that should be him.

As his possessive and protective obsession spikes his anger issues into space, you see yourself faced with multiple problems once you know what Paul is. His emotions are out of control as even the smallest thing could set him off at any time. One wrong glance from someone, one insult that is whispered behind your back or even a joke from a friend of yours that comes over wrong in his head. He tends to get angry over even the small stuff which you would usually brush off and don't pay too much attention too. He can't just ignore it if someone teases you or says something rude to you, even if it comes from someone you're close to. Not even to mention that his possessive side leads to increased jealousy to the point where he growls even at your close friends. He seems to trust no one with your safety besides himself. His overprotective behavior makes him on top of it all very overbearing as he's constantly hovering around you and makes a big fuss over you as soon as he realizes that you're in any sort of pain. He gives you even less space in such cases as all his instincts scream at him to take care of you.

There's definitely a big isolation factor alongside his limited patience. Paul does practice to control his temper but the amount of times he suffers from a relapse is saddening as much as disappointing for you as his feelings always get the better of him. In order to prevent anything bad from happening, you have to spend most of your time alone with him which Paul doesn't mind but you definitely do. You constantly have to neglect other people as Paul consumes almost all of your time for himself because otherwise he can't be reasoned with. You know he's very sweet and funny if he's alone and has your attention only on himself but the moment anyone else is around you two, he always seems to be on guard. Even his own pack members aren't an exception to that. If you want to do something alone, you need hours to convince Paul who doesn't want to hear any of it. You need to call him though multiple times an hour or otherwise he'll come running after you. Once you've left his field of vision, he's worried sick as his irritation increases every minute.

Leah Clearwater

We've nearly arrived at the top of the list now and the second place goes to the only female shape-shifter in the pack: Leah Clearwater. But why? Well, I feel like there's one big event that pretty much influenced her life and changed her personality. That's the day where Sam, her ex-boyfriend, imprinted on her cousin Emily and broke up with her. She was happily in love before her heart got torn apart and she hasn't forgiven Sam nor Emily fully for it. Worst is that Sam is now her alpha and she's seeing him and Emily being happy together far too often which only worsens her heartbreak. Even if Emily is his imprint, she can't get over it and it isn't until she locks eyes with you for the first time that she's for the first time able to understand why Sam made the decision he did. You're happiness, you're a cure and an absolute joy in her grim life and Leah knows that she'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. Alongside with the imprint bond comes a feeling of pressure unlike anything she has experienced before though as with the sheer ecstasy comes also stress and an overwhelming tightness in her chest.

Leah is insecure. Insecure and terrified. Whilst she has now gotten over Sam, the pain and the previous heartbreak now shifts into something else. Insecurity, fear and paranoia that somehow she'll lose you too. She doesn't want her heart to be broken again since she knows that she'd never recover if you would reject her and it's this paranoia and fear that turns her into this bitter, possessive and jealous woman. Sam and Emily have shaped her and she'll never recover from those issues throughout her entire life which means that she'll never learn how to deal with her emotions. Worst is that she doesn't even try, differently from some other wolves. I mean, even Paul tries to control his anger issues even if he fails but Leah never seeks treatment to better herself. She has better control over her ability to shift anyways and with the rest of her broken emotions, she doesn't see the need to practice to better herself. Instead she lets her fear guide her to act incredibly possessive and overprotective. She wants to do well but her reactions are always far too extreme as soon as she notices that something is wrong with you.

Her open insecurities are her main problem in the relationship as she's quite often worried that you'll find someone who you like more than her. Believe me, she knows that she is hard to be around but she can hardly reason with herself as her feelings always take control over her. She might not be as openly aggressive as Paul is but she'll definitely scare people away from you too. She gets very easily jealous and that can even apply to family members and closest friends of you, even if she knows herself that you value them only platonically. There's little to no respect she shows someone as soon as they've triggered her as she insults them in a bitter tone, poison seething through her words. She never apologizes to them either as her pride holds her back and she only feels guilty when she realizes that she's hurt you by acting so rude. Leah wants to shield you from feeling even an ounce of the pain she had to go through but that unfortunately leads her to cutting people out of your life as soon as they've made you cry. She doesn't care what their motives are, she'll never forgive them. They just have to stay away from you.

Jacob Black

Did you see this coming? Jacob and Leah are at the top of my list for the exact same reason. Both used to be very deeply in love with someone but both were rejected because that person loved someone else. I give Jacob the price of being the most difficult one though because I feel like he'll exhibit everything in an even worse way than Leah. Why? Because at this rate Jacob just doesn't care anymore. Paul cares about his darling and tries to control himself, Leah ocassionally cares and feels guilty, but Jacob just doesn't anymore. He's done with being hurt, done with being left behind for someone else. Now he has finally found his imprint, the person most important to him and he decides that he'll never allow history to repeat itself. That's why he's willing to go very far and use very low tricks to manage to get close to you as fast as possible as he's in a desperate rush right now as every person around you is suddenly turned into a potential rival in his eyes. He feels bad about it if he sees that it has a negative effect on you but he shoves it all away as he prioritizes his own needs.

Jacob is sure that if you give it a try with him, you'll soon forget about the sadness you experience. In his mind you two only need each other and no one else is really needed. He definitely lives after this philosophy as he makes you his absolute priority and neglects and ditches everyone else and expects you to do the same. If you don't do the same and actually meet others and prefer to spend time with them instead of spending time with him, he'll hold it against you and even more against the person who has such a bad influence on you. He pushes anyone away from you who hurts you even once or whom he simply dislikes for being close with you and since he's so incredibly clingy and no one really likes him with his sultry and rude attitude he always has around others, your social contacts begin to wither away. He's openly mentally unstable and very toxic to the point where everyone around him notices. Yet no one is able to reason with him and make him listen. Not his pack, not his alpha and not even his own father. If Bella tries to help him? That'll just end in a disaster as he has lost all sympathy for her.

From all shape-shifters, Jacob is also the one who uses guilt-tripping and emotional blackmailing the most without shame. Leah uses emotional blackmail sometimes too but not nearly as much as Jacob does. As soon as you start going against him and question the undeniable control he wants to have over your life to feel a little bit more secure, he's always resorting to it. Whether it's him justifying it all with the imprint bond or blaming Bella for having broken his heart previously and having made him this way, he does everything to take your mind elsewhere and stop you from protesting, stop you from leaving him. He can lose his cool for a moment and start shouting at you if you prove to be stubborn although at this point he has probably already started crying in hopes that tears will tug at your heartstrings. There's a point where he snaps though and that's probably when he's just unnerving as he threatens to hurt himself if you try to leave him. Do you want to risk it? I can tell you that he'll definitely start neglecting taking care of himself until you come back to him.

[aricarianis]

Mask and Mirror | AO3 Simon "Ghost" Riley / Female Character Rape/Non-con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Predator/Prey, Stalking, Violence, Aggression, Choking.

THIS IS A HORROR STORY. Chapter 1: The Stranger In The Shadows Estimated reading time: 19 minutes.

There are only two rules on Halloween: have fun, and watch out for the freaks.

When an unassuming girl tries to lose the masked stranger stalking her on Halloween night, a spine-chilling game of cat and mouse begins. Each encounter grows more dangerous and intimate, blurring the lines between predator and prey. As tension and terror build, it’s only a matter of time before one of them is forced to surrender—if they make it out at all.

The last autumn breeze brushed past a face that dared to be uncovered on All Hallow’s Eve.

It was cold enough to signal the onset of the darkest season, but not quite enough to force girls into warm clothing. Halloween was the one night where inhibitions faded and impulses ruled. For her, it was also the last chance to have some fun—pull a trick, take home a treat.

Confined in the soft cage of her mermaid costume, she made her best effort to walk quickly, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Partygoers brushed past in waves of theatrical ensembles. In the flashing lights and dark street corners, it was too easy to lose sight of someone. Which pair of wings or which set of bunny ears belongs to whom is anyone’s guess.

She, on the other hand, was hard to lose sight of. Being a mermaid for Halloween was hardly a groundbreaking idea, but the looks of disgust directed at her spoke for themselves. Most mermaids weren’t pallid, perpetually damp and slimy. Their costumes weren’t covered in a mucuous dark liquid that spread to their skin like a filthy sea rash. Their hair wasn’t tangled like seaweed, with nails as sharp as broken shells.

If philosophers who believe humans are inherently bad are correct, and goodness is just a layer people wear each day, then stripping that layer away should keep others at bay. No one should want to come close to something that looks deliberately sickly and unnerving.

No one but the man that kept trailing her, ignoring the warning signs.

Some might argue that being chased by a freak is part of the Halloween experience. After all, it’s the night when masks allow people to wear their ugliness openly, when the veil between real and imaginary gets a little too thin. Good people feel free to be a little bad, and bad people feel free to make the night of horrors live up to its name.

There’s a strange type of comfort about being at a Halloween parade, with celebrations and bonfires that have existed long before our time. The fake blood, the rusty houses, the dirty streets; air heavy with possibility. Any shoulder bumped against could open a door to the unknown. The music—too loud to let screams through. The people—too drunk to perceive danger before it’s too late. Anyone running past could be having fun or could be in genuine danger. Nothing seems safe, and that liminal space of perception, that limbo between bliss and horror that permeates every corner of Halloween night, is what keeps us coming back to celebrate death—as a reminder we’re alive.

Experiencing that limbo is Halloween’s ultimate allure. But sometimes the fantasy breaks, the veil lifts, and you realize that the danger isn’t imaginary.

The burn she felt in her legs as she tried to lose him in the crowd was real enough.

He stayed close despite the ever growing mob.

She grabbed her phone to call her friends once again. It seemed futile with all the noise, yet she tried. After a few minutes, a familiar voice cut through the buzz and made its way to her.

“Mae!” Her friend’s wings bounced as she waved enthusiastically.

Mae pushed through the crowd to get to her newfound safe haven.

“I told you not to call me that in public.”

“It’s short for mermaid—”

“No, it isn’t.”

“And… it’s just for tonight. It’s not safe to give our real names to strangers, you know that. Tonight, you’re Mae and I’m… Fae.”

Mae gave a light chuckle and nodded in agreement.

“Fake names aren’t much of a safety guarantee, I tell you that,” she said while looking around, but there was no sign of the man. She leaned in, close enough for her words to be just between them.

“I saw him.”

Fae turned to look at Mae, the gleam in her eyes matching the glitter on her lids. “Are you sure? There are a lot of masked people here.”

“I’d recognize that skull mask anywhere.”

A loud smash rang out, and the sharp echo of broken glass traveled the air alongside slurred insults—a brewing brawl. Suddenly, bodies pushed against one another like schooling fish. Mae grabbed onto Fae’s wrist, and as Fae’s eyes trailed up, Mae knew whose hand lay on her stomach. She felt the warmth of a body pressing against her, solid and unyielding; his form swallowing hers completely.

For a second, time stopped. She lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder to meet his eyes—dark as the night sky behind him. Her jaw clenched, anger bubbling up at her own vulnerability. She could’ve sworn she saw a movement, a slight raise of his cheeks behind the mask. Time resumed. A change of position, an unknown push, Fae’s other arm finding hers. Gone.

A man his size shouldn’t be able to vanish so easily.

“We need to get the others! Where’s your phone?  Mine's in Jennifer’s purse.” Fae raised her voice as the agitated horde pushed them to the sidewalk.

“Jennifer doesn’t get a fake name?” The confusion in Mae’s tone turned to heaviness as she searched her purse.

“My creativity only goes so far,” Fae replied. “Come on, give it to me.”

“It’s not here.”

“What do you mean? You just had it.”

“Yeah, I did, but I-I can’t find it. I swear, it was right here, it must’ve…” Mae trailed off, scanning the ground, hoping her phone would somehow be there, though deep down, she already knew it wouldn’t.

Their eyes met. The knowing exchange spoke before they could.

“The girls were at the bar at the end of the street when I left to look for you,” Fae said first, nodding toward the direction. “We can start there.”

“We have to get my phone back.”

“It could be just some creep trying to get your attention—”

“Now he has it.” Mae’s anger simmered back up.

“Or... it could be someone trying to hurt you,” Fae said softly, as if assessing her friend’s next step. “You've never had to deal with one like him before.”

“Well… I’ve always loved first times.”

Mae grabbed Fae’s wrist and led the way, her grip tightening as they squeezed through the last of the crowd toward the bar. The quick steps confined in her costume made her legs burn again—a sensation she now knew all too well, and only because of him.

Costumed folks packed the bar, as the air hung thick with booze and bad decisions. In their corner, Mae stared blankly at the far wall, hardly listening as Fae recounted the story. Something in Fae’s tone—how she spun it like a fairytale rather than the gruesome folk legend it truly was—kept Mae’s anger simmering beneath the surface.

“AGAIN?” Tammie’s disbelief pulled Mae back into the moment. Jennifer signaled for her to keep it down, holding the phone to her ear. Tammie leaned in, repeating more quietly, “Again? How many times now, three?”

“Five,” Mae snapped, her voice tight with frustration. “Son of a bitch has followed me five times in three weeks.”

“Not used to a little attention, huh?” Jennifer smirked, clearly savoring the drama. “I told you to do something about it on the third time.”

Mae rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think it’d go this far, Jen. The guy just seemed like a random creep, not a—”

“Stalker?” Tammie finished, crossing her arms. Her usual easygoing demeanor shifted to one of concern.

Silence settled around them, despite the rowdy bar.

“Nothing?” Tammie asked Jennifer, signaling toward the phone.

Jennifer shook her head, the phone still glued to her ear.

“It’s not too late to let it go, babe,” Fae’s soft tone came back as she caressed Mae’s arm. “You’re the last person to go into things without a plan.”

Mae clenched her jaw. “You know damn well he can’t keep that phone—“

“Hello?” Jennifer blurted, eyes wide. “Can you hear me?”

The girls all turned to her, holding their breaths expectantly. Jennifer furrowed her brows as she turned to look at Mae, sharing a glance of mutual confusion before passing the phone to her.

“Hello?” Mae’s voice grew tense, eyes narrowing. “Yes, yes I understand—”

The girls scanned Mae’s face for some hint of explanation, but got nothing. They couldn’t find reassurance in each others’ worried expressions either.

“Why are you…” Her expression shifted from disbelief to irritation. “I understand… Simon.”

Mae handed the phone back, feeling discomfort permeate her body, and watching the girls’ faces contort with anger as they reacted to what she’d just heard.

The Haunted House. Fifteen minutes. Alone.

Despite their protests, the girls reluctantly agreed to let Mae go. It was a public space, after all, and he’d never tried anything dangerous while in a crowd. Maybe it’d be a simple exchange, a creepy way to ask for her number. But what were the odds?

Something weird happens once, it’s an accident. Twice, a coincidence. Three times, a pattern. By the fifth time, it’s hard not to think of it as a threat.

Simon didn’t mind to be seen as a threat; he’d learned early that his quiet intensity threw people off. The way he scanned the most unassuming places, how his every step was measured, balanced; movements so controlled they felt artistic—a dancer gliding across a shadowed ballroom.

Big guys like him were supposed to soften the edges, to show their faces, smile, make themselves smaller. But that wasn’t his training. That wasn’t who he was. Each time he chose not to wear the layers people expected, it was as if they could smell the blood on him, no matter how long it had been washed off. He’d made a living off of realizing his threats, and he was one of the best.

Of course, his nature became a hindrance when he craved human contact, which is why dating was off the table. He fulfilled his desires on other bodies, but never looked for love in them. Love is the most volatile element in any situation, and to be as good as him, you have to give up anything uncertain. In his line of work, predictability is the key between life and death.

He spent most of his free time roaming around the towns his team was stationed at, not only scanning places but people. How they moved, how they talked. The joyful screams of kids when their fathers picked them up. The wrinkles deepening on old ladies’ faces as their husbands repeated the same old stories. How deep a lass bit into the caramel apple she shared with her friend. The way her lips moved and gleamed. How the wind carried the earthy aroma of the forest, the sweet scent of the treat, and her. How she strangely caught his gaze and stared back, longer than anyone would, waving slowly as her sharp nails cut through the air.

There was something off about her, something under the surface. Like touching a wall warmed by the day's sun, even though night has fallen. Or standing outside a seemingly calm room, only to hear faint screaming as a prisoner denies information. Things you’d only catch if you’re watching closely. Attention you only pay to what you’re familiar with.

He trailed her for the first time after she went back for a second caramel apple. The second time was at the local mini-market, her cart stocked with an expensive brand of wine. The third time, he saw her loading luggage into the boot of her car at two in the morning. The fourth was at a restaurant, where she laughed with a group of men, and he sent a bottle of that same wine to her table. The fifth time, he stepped in between her and a street brawl, adrenaline rushing through his veins like a long-lost pulse. His grip on her wasn’t protective; it was a taste of control.

He stared at her phone, patiently counting down the fifteen minutes. Strange how her entire world was just a numerical combination away. Each time the screen lit up with the names of other men, something in him twisted tight. None of them knew her like he did. Did they see how the light made her caramel-stained lips glisten? Taste the remnants of expensive wine lingering on her tongue? Feel the sting of her sharp nails as they left marks that only he could reciprocate?

On that first night, he stared into the void, and the void didn’t flinch—it stared harder and waved back. Unbroken. Defiant. He can’t afford to crave affection, so he made it his mission to watch her surrender. The quiet command in her eyes fueled the mad man within, and he’d treat her like any opponent: study her, approach her, break her.

The most quiet houses often turn out to be the scariest. They look mundane, traditional—the kind of place where a family would lead a regular life. Yet, that façade can be enough to hide the horror inside. Domestic privacy becomes the foundation for a certain brand evil, one that allows fear to fester like mold. Modest walls turn into breeding grounds for monstrosity. Haunted houses, then, are symbols of honesty, of all the decay and abandonment humans are capable of creating.

There’s not a more honest month than October. As Mae entered the local honesty spot, cobwebs danced to the sounds of wood groaning against wind. Plastic spiders and makeshift ghosts welcomed passersby as the flickering jack-o’-lanterns showed them the way. The man inside might as well be another haunted attraction.

The draped black cloth on the walls served as a backdrop for the fake fog swirling at ankle height, forcing Mae to watch her every step. She carefully navigated each room, searching for the skull mask she now knew too well, and the man behind it. The loud whirrs of animatronic witches and the sudden clatter of popping skeletons set her nerves on edge, as if warning her about the last room in the upstairs hallway.

The sign on the door made it clear—that place wasn’t part of the attraction. It was a makeshift storage room for personal belongings, a reminder that the house wasn’t haunted for eleven months of the year. As she peeked inside, her gaze swept across the room until she made out his form. He was staring at a portrait cramped on top of a dresser, next to other family items. A man, a woman, two happy girls and a dog. Normal, certain—an unusual type of predictability for him. He seemed at ease, peaceful. For a moment, his imposing frame and odd behavior seemed almost misunderstood. A view shaped by a pessimism she knew too well.

That feeling lasted until he looked over his shoulder and met her eyes. The way the light seemed to retreat from his gaze as it bore into her soul meant, this time, she was right to assume the worst.

“Give it back.” She stood on the doorway, palm open in demand.

He remained in place as if he were part of the furniture.

“Look,” her sharp gaze signaling an anger that never went away “I don’t know who you are or what you want. If you’re just some weirdo freak who doesn’t know how to ask a girl out, fine.”

She gave him a split second to react, to show that she had read him right. He was stone.

“But if you’re here because you think you can intimidate me—”

His arm shot out, slamming the door behind her. Right hand digging into her jaw; the left tangled in her hair. Her skull met the door with a sharp crack, and the room spun in the echo of her interrupted words. Yet the weight of his body wasn’t enough to crush her defiance.

“—means you haven’t learned anything from all the stalking.” Her voice barely cut through the ringing in her ears. Pain seared through her head, but she clenched her jaw, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

His hot breath cut through the cold air in shallow bursts—not from exertion, but from something raw and primal: rage fused with obsession and desire. He tightened the grip on her hair as his right hand slid to her throat, squeezing just enough to make it clear she was not in charge. Her eyes widened, a short gasp escaping her lips, and he took her parted mouth as an invitation to close in, their lips brushing against the rough texture of the mask.

“I learned that this,” he spoke into her mouth, his grip tightening around her throat, “is what you needed. You needed someone to control your disobedience.”

Mae furrowed her eyebrows in complete confusion. The weight of Simon’s words twisted something in her stomach, making each exhale heavier than the inhale that preceded it. Nausea creeped in and she felt a wave of tingles on her nose—a sign that his twisted reasoning was taking root.

As the first tears welled in her eyes, he let out an amused chuckle and released her throat. The sudden rush of air into her lungs stung, and she gasped sharply, a sound that turned into an unsteady wail as she noticed his gaze dropping lower. A chill surged through her before she even registered his free, rock hard member pressing against her stomach. It was as if the room itself contracted around her, suffocating with its silence. The veil had lifted—this horror was real.

Her body jerked reflexively, muscles going taut as a wire. Simon’s free hand moved down her skirt, fingers searching for her entrance with a methodical, invasive precision that made her skin crawl. Jackpot. He stroked over her folds, rubbing rough circles on her clit to get her body to react as it would if she were a willing player in this scenario. Her mind raced in an attempt to pinpoint what she could have done to deserve this. But she knew better. This wasn’t her fault, even if the terror whispered otherwise. This was what happened when you brushed too close to people like Simon—quiet beasts that reeked of blood.

“S-Stop, please, Simon, I—“

“Are so wet f’me,” a smug tone on his voice. “Gonna say you don’t want this, luv? Cunt dripping all over my hand and you’re gonna lie?”

Even overwhelmed, Mae’s mind searched for options. She was the last person to go into things without a plan. The first step was to slow down her breath—hard to do when Simon was already using her wetness to bully his thick digits into her; each stroke drawing a hum of approval from him. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as if to answer one of the many questions he had about her. His hot breath, the weight of his body, his rough movements—all filled her senses. Yet she had to find ways to ground herself in the bleak present, to craft the perfect opportunity for an escape.

Mae shifted slightly, feeling the solid surface of the door pressing into her back. The faint steps of the last visitors leaving the house echoed from somewhere distant, signaling that they were alone. She closed her eyes briefly, recalling the layout of the house from her earlier tour. If she timed it right, there was still a chance.

Drawing a breath, she softened her expression, letting her hands move to Simon’s hips. His eyes lit up with a twisted satisfaction as she began to trace her fingers around his cock. “See?” he murmured, his voice low and triumphant. “Just needed some obedience fucked into you.”

But the look in her eyes was anything but submissive. In a sudden, decisive move, Mae clamped her teeth down on the exposed skin of his neck while her nails—sharp as broken shells—raked into his balls. Simon's eyes widened in shock, his grip faltering just enough for her to push her full weight against him. She managed to break the distance between them, the momentum sending him stumbling backward.

The reprieve was brief. He swung back with a brutal slap that cracked like thunder against her face, the force disorienting her and leaving a burning trail of pain that echoed through her skull. She staggered, vision blurring and darkness creeping at the edges, but she didn't let the agony stop her. Mae bolted for the hallway, every muscle straining as she tore through the space and spotted the back door.

Simon’s roar followed, along with the heavy thud of his boots closing in as he wiped the blood dripping from the bite. But she was already out, sprinting toward the woods, the cool night air biting at her skin while an all too familiar burn crept back up her legs.

Trees blurred past in quick flashes, yet Simon’s footsteps were nearly soundless. His breath was steady, pulse in perfect control. The forest was his ballroom, and he moved like a seasoned dancer, leaving no trail behind him despite the thrill of the hunt. Twigs snapped nearby, a deep rustle to his left, a faint crunch to his right. Probably a deer, maybe a bear. To an untrained ear, the woods were brown noise; to him, an orchestra conducting his every step.

The darkness had no effect on him; his trained instincts led the way with ease. He paused, sensing her movements through the undergrowth—chaotic, erratic. Naive girls who think they can escape if they draw a little blood. He knew exactly where she was headed; her scent lingered in his system. He tilted his head to the left, eyes tracking to the right. A footfall right ahead. Jackpot.

Her messy disposition blended seamlessly with the chaos of the woodland. Breathless, disheveled, defeated—a creature in unfamiliar territory. Fish out of water.

She stood a few feet away, slightly hunched in surrender, a stark contrast to her usual proud self. Too easy. A faint prick of unease nudged at the back of Simon’s mind; after all, she had drawn blood the last time he got too close. Still, he pushed forward. He couldn’t have misjudged a simple chase. He was too skilled, too well-trained. One of the best.

He moved patiently over the foliage, cautious as if not to startle a wild animal. She remained still, vulnerable, accepting whatever fate Simon had prepared for her. One step, not too far. Another, closing in. Third step. Loud woosh. Acute pain. A bear trap. Suddenly, a fierce electric sting shot through his limbs, his own body turning against him. A taser. Muscles locked, forcing him into uncontrollable spasms. His back scraped against the rough ground as disorientation set in, making him oblivious to the shadows slipping into his blind spot.

Before he could react, his arms were forced back, wrists bound tightly together. The harsh scratch against his skin warned him of how little time he had before he was fully restrained. He struggled against the bear trap clamping his leg—a painful inconvenience—while the bindings around his wrists constricted further, vertical loops added to prevent any twisting escape. Smart.

Without wasting a moment, they secured his wrists to his waist and loosely bound his elbows, preventing any upward movement even if he managed to wriggle. With his limited upper body strength, finding leverage seemed impossible. The bear trap made it easier for them to restrain his legs, rope wrapping tightly around his lower thighs and knees. To finish the job, they pushed him against a tree, encircling his torso with the final length of rope, fully immobilizing him. As they stood at his feet, admiring their handiwork, a sinking realization settled in—he recognized the three familiar faces. Loyal friends she has.

“Should we get it out?” Jennifer asked, panting lightly as she examined the extent of his leg injury, her expression focused.

“I’m not done with him yet,” Mae retorted, monotone as she bore into his eyes.

“What are you gonna do, babe?” Fae interjected, concern etched across her face, but it wasn’t enough to sway Mae’s resolve.

“Nothing he hasn’t done first.”

Simon watched as the women faded into the forest, leaving him at Mae’s mercy. His uneven breath and racing pulse revealed his disbelief, body heating with the anger of being caught in this situation.

“Good show, lass. Am I bear snack now?” Simon scoffed, his need to regain the upper hand surfacing, even if it was futile.

“Was that your plan for me?”

“Yeah… and I was the bear.”

Mae nudged the trap with her foot, drawing a low grunt from Simon. “You were.”

“You’re a proper nutter, you know that?” His breaths grew shallow and rapid, betraying his frustration.

Mae bent at the waist, lowering herself until her face was just inches away from his. Her gaze steady and unyielding. The void staring back. "Birds of a feather, aren’t we?"

With a swift motion, she tore his mask off and stuffed it into his mouth. Shallow and deep scars littered his face, moonlight glinting over each mark. His nose was crooked, broken one too many times. His eyes—dark, bottomless—widened as he watched her slowly remove her costume, piece by piece. Confusion and dread seeped into him as he struggled to anticipate her next move, to guess what trick she’d pull.

The light traced her form, hugging the curves and lines of her body. Soft yet firm, peaks and valleys of pure poetry that relaxed him at the sight—first time in too long.

She leaned down, straddling his lap, her hands slipping between them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Simon furrowed his brows as he felt a pull on his hips. He dropped his gaze to see his pants halfway down his thighs, his member firmly in her hand. She began to stroke it, slowly, feeling the pull of his skin under her touch. “Is this what you wanted?”

Simon grunted, unintelligible, as the mask suffocated his words, his forehead creased in confusion. His body reacted as if it had disconnected from his mind, unaware that this was not how it was supposed to happen.

“I thought you wanted to control me,” Mae sneered as she picked up speed. “You can’t even control yourself.”

Simon took a deep breath as he felt his cock swell under the friction. He struggled to regain composure, to remind himself who was in charge. This was a game—a game he could easily win if he could keep his impulses in check. Keeping his cool under life-threatening situations was part of his job; this should be no different. He was too skilled, too well-trained. One of the bes—

“Open your eyes,” Mae commanded, and Simon obliged, not even realizing when he had closed them. With practiced ease, she pooled saliva at the back of her throat, letting it gather at the tip of her tongue before she opened her mouth—thick strand glistening in the light before landing on the tip of his cock.

Simon could only respond with deep, muffled groans, his face contorted in rage. This was not how it was supposed to go. Veins bulged along his member, which at this point was fully engaged. Precum leaked as he shook his head in frustration, ashamed at how his body betrayed him, welcoming the assault even as his mind rebelled.

Mae raised herself slightly, adjusting his angry red tip right at her entrance, still wet from the earlier invasion. With a slow, methodical movement, she crouched down, easing his thickness into her cunt—tight and fluttering at the incursion. It was massive, almost impossible, the type of weapon used to bring more harm than peace. She shuddered at the thought of how things might have played out were she still under Simon’s reign, yet she remained impassive. “Control yourself.”

Simon’s brows furrowed in plea as he struggled against the ropes—desperate, confused, guilty. He was overwhelmed at the detachment, at how all the physical sensations were there but his mind couldn’t enjoy it. He just wanted out.

Mae picked up the pace as she squatted on his lap, walls spasming at the forced entrance. She could feel him in her bones, splitting her open, invading even when he was out of control. It wasn’t as comfortable as it could be, but it was worth it for his look of terror alone.

He felt dizzy as she fucked him so hard his back scorched against the tree. His pulse pounded in his ears, her warmth and slick mirroring the heat pooling in places he wished it wouldn’t. Simon squirmed, his eyes pleading with Mae to stop as he teetered on the edge of orgasm.

“Control your fucking self!” Mae shouted, her voice brimming with rage. “This is your fault. This is what you made me do!”

Her hands clamped around his throat, surgical, cutting off just enough airflow to push him toward unconsciousness. To Simon, her intentions seemed far more sinister. He let out a hoarse scream, overwhelmed by a surge of anxiety, shame, and a fear he hadn’t felt in years. Her hips plunged, the familiar burn creeping up on her legs as her cunt choked him—violent thrusts sprinting towards the end, demanding. Shockwave. He twitched and grunted as the climax spread across his body, the impact reverberating through them both. His cum leaked from her pussy as the realization dawned—he had severely underestimated his opponent.

As Mae’s movements slowed, her grip around his throat tightened. She watched as his eyes grew heavy, each blink longer than the last, while a disorienting fog clouded his mind.

“Do you know why people wear masks on Halloween?” Mae asked, her voice as calm as rocks in a seastorm.

Simon squinted in confusion, his body going slack beneath her hold. A tremor rippled through his limbs, marking the last moments of resistance before surrender.

“They believed the line between the world of the living and the dead blurred, and that spirits could walk the earth. They started wearing masks because they thought they could protect themselves from evil by blending in,” she continued, her tone hypnotic. “But, you see, we don’t know what evil looks like.”

His eyes fluttered, unfocused, a final shudder running through him as he hovered at the edge of darkness. The moment hung suspended, enough for Mae’s voice to cut through one last time before he slipped entirely into the void.

“Would you be scared of the boogeyman if he looked like me?”

[matan4il]

Ive long believed that this recent extremist hatred of “colonists” was more about the perceived value of the people being colonized than about the actual harm to human life that colonization causes. (And I do not think of Israelis as colonizers, btw) The past hours have proven this to me. It’s not about whether they think Israel is truly guilty of colonization; it’s that Israelis would dare go against a group they have decided has fundamentally different and more valuable level of humanity. The same exact people who claim they’d support indigenous Americans taking back the land hate Jews for doing exactly that. And my God, the amount of people who spend most of their time discussing sexism and violence against women now saying that the innocent women being killed and kidnapped en masse is “the price to pay” is making my blood boil. I feel like I’ve witnessed so many people just toss all decency and morality out the window just so they can pat themselves on the back for being “anti-colonialists”. Anti-semetism has so rotted peoples brains. I’m praying for you and for every life caught up in this atrocity.

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for the ask.

Let me just say you're of course right that Israeli Jews are not colonizers of the Jewish ancestral homeland. But I haven't been touching this point, because the truth is... even if they were, would it justify such barbarity? Or do we as human beings believe in the sanctity of life, and understand that violence, rape, torture, mutilation and cold blooded murder, let alone mass murder, should NEVER be accepted as the solution to any problem?

Did people take the Nazis, those who committed the worst crimes in human history, and tried to use them to justify the massacre of all Germans, or to de-legitimize the very existence of a German state?

I actually sadly don't think the world does value the lives of Palestinians. I'm friends with so many. Mainly, as a gay woman, I have gay Palestinian friends. I have friends whose families found out they're gay, threatened to kill them, they applied for refugee status in so many western countries, but none would take them. I'm aware that Palestinians are being discriminated against BY LAW in so many places (for example in Lebanon, where Palestinians are barred from no less than 39 professions). If this were about their well being, then pro-Palestinian activists and demonstrations would be speaking up about the mistreatment of Palestinians everywhere! But they don't. If they can't blame the Jewish state for a perceived wrong, they don't care what happens to Palestinians.

Not everyone, obviously. Many accept the info as handed to them and they think they're being pro-Palestinian, when really they're just being fed, and then end up passing on, anti-Israel propaganda.

So, sadly I think this is a new form of antisemitism, expressed by singling out the Jewish state. It isn't the push for human rights it pretends to be, or the movement would care about the human rights of Palestinians in places like Lebanon and Jordan, too.

I think a good way to sum up what's wrong with people justifying the massacre that we experienced here is found in this image:

Thank you, I really appreciate the care and the prayers! Sending you endless hugs and love! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[chasedeys]

Who would you say is more feral about the other and who would you say is more protective between Joe and Ja’Marr ??feel free to give examples 😊

hiii i feel like a lot of people think ja’marr’s more feral about joe and a lot of blogs have panned out examples on how joe being just as if not more feral and i agree with both! it’s equal feralness, equal devotion, equal ‘can you both chill abt each other’ kind of way. this might be a cop out lmao but genuinely comparing actions vs words between these two is just mind melting for me so yeah they definitely don’t fuck around abt each other

i feel like all the feral moments have been mentioned 😭 joes natty game ball thrown straight at jamarr, the saints game lsu jersey that joe elected to wear for whatever reason, joe weighing in how he wants jamarr with him and bengals actually getting the guy for him, jamarr choosing to follow his college qb to ohio, the clothes saga of does joe actually let jamarr dress him up or does he not, the lakers date jamarr flew to save joes shit week, the he’s like a god to me comment, the ufc moves schtick which is a very barbara krugers you construct intricate rituals which allow you to touch the skin of other men kinda deal, jamarr going out of his way to fly to joe to be the one joe throws to for his fourth throwing session post wrist injury (insane btw :)), etc etc no but genuinely there’s so many more its crazy

and just like this one article that isn’t even really anything compared to the rest of their lore yk? but it just sticks to me so hard like wdym ‘i knew i was going to feed my guy he was due for one’ ‘he was excited all week’ oh ok were you enamored at how excited he was 😭 did u want to keep him happy and smiling and bouncing all around the place answer me joseph. joseph. what do you think of a happy ja’marr joseph. would you do anything in your power to keep him that way joseph or. but anyways!

‘all i can do is make him look good, he helps me look good. we make each other look good. just being there for him. that’s all i can do is be there for him’ WOULD YOU STOP???? where does he get these words jamarr chase shuttt your mouthhhh i swearrrr 😭 half the shit he says sounds like its from a 13 yo writing mafia aus for the first time and yet it hits!! every time!!!! girl learn some restraint (keep talking never stop etc)

they’re both equally protective of the other?? in a way that’s like ‘how dare you not perceive this man the way i perceive him and fault him for being who he is’

when joe—wrist in cast mind u—looked deadass ready to get down to business with someone chirping at ja’marr post kc game where ja’marr got into a fight with however many people are in that team. somebody who psychoanalyzes for a living should study jamarrs shit with the chiefs and how joe relates to that fr

ja’marr’s preseason drops where people shit on him so bad and joe couldn’t exactly cuss people out but he was sooo steadfast in his belief on jamarr barely flinching anytime someone mentions about it ‘i know the type of guy jamarr is, he’ll be ready game one’, unsmiling ‘i thought he was dropping everything’ doing the pinky shake as ja’marr was leaving his presscon seat right in front of all those reporters as an extra special fuck you that’s my guy sort of thing yk. the contract hold out people asking abt jamarr being game ready and him saying jamarr would be ready regardless (?) or something along those lines. the post kc game shove presser ahaha. to my knowledge joe never caters to anybody saying shit subtly or outrightly about jamarr and i live and breathe that shit i won’t lie

any of jamarrs twitter fights with literally anybody who shits on joe no matter if it was actual like hate or just casual opinions on who’s the better qb?? girl. honestly.

ja’marr being soooo health proactive about other people!! no but seriously he cares soooo much about injuries and everything—that one calf strain joe had preseason that he keeps saying to chill and sit back until game 5, ‘i told him don’t scare me like that again he knows how to slide he’s just hard headed’ looking deadass pissed off at the thought, ‘im here for the future, for him. i want you to be here for the future’, the stand back and look pretty in the pocket (insane. just fucking insane thing to say), saying hed rather have joe throwing from the back than running the ball in fact hed rather not joe get hit at all—just anything about joe playing through injuries and he lets out an insane quote that has people (rpf enjoyers: me) question if he ever pauses to think of the implications

and sorry brief jamarr focused word vomit: he also says the most important thing for malik nabers is to be healthy :(( he cares so much abt injuries over playing, he opted out playing his junior year during covid, etc but that week 4 (???) shoulder injury report that he keeps saying he’s fine even when the bandages peek through his shirt is so 😭 pls self reflect bub (though i guess it really was fine considering he went and did amazing that game so i feel he’s amazingly aware of his limits too?? his health vice is just shit diet ig)

and like idk if this is included in like the protective kind of way but that interview when they asked if joe was more intense and ja’marr went off saying he doesn’t look at joe the way you people do (and how he only looks at him on the field lol ok jamarr)—like he’s enraged that people nitpick on everything that joe presents himself as ‘the way yall be looking at him’ can somewhat equate to ‘yall are don’t know shit about him look away’ which is. ???? ok jamarr ok. like i feel he thinks he knows joe very well even if he doesn’t know everything that joes feeling no matter how many times reporters ask him for his insight, but he definitely feels like he knows joe a whole lot better than these outsiders who keep trying to over-analyze his quarterback but wrongly so he has to bite back sharp remarks over these misconceptions about joe via being overly defensive

theres probably more that i cant recall or not know sigh knowing that there are gems of joemarr moments i will never know because i wasnt here for their entire nfl run hurts me deeply btw

[kiwiana-writes]

hey! I recently discovered your writing and I really love it but I have to ask you a question. you seem to write a lot of kink and I love that but: are you into pet play? it's a boundary for me for authors not to be into kinks that skirt around illegal acts so if you could let me know if your work is safe for me to read that would be great. thanks!

I got this last night and didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with it, and now I’m running on like 4.5 hours sleep, so… I’m going to treat this more as a general PSA than anything else.

So:

1) If your concern is that at some point in some hypothetical future I may write Kink X, Trope Y, Pairing A/Z, or anything along those lines, and me doing so would make you regret interacting with any of my previous work: please assume that I may do so, and curate your experience accordingly. I’ve written a bunch of things that I have, at some point in my life, said “I don’t think I’ll ever write that”—not because I was being a dirty liar, but because things change. There are also things I have written in the past that I have no plans to write in the future. Tastes shift over time, and so does what feels easy/fun to write; not to mention some things just hit different with different ships.

2) If your concern is more rooted in whether I think it’s fine for other people to write Kink X, Trope Y, Pairing A/Z, or anything along those lines—you should ABSOLUTELY assume the answer is “yes” and proceed accordingly. There are a whole bunch of kinks, tropes, and ships I am simply not into that exist on a continuum from “not my jam but if I writer I love tackles it I’m at least willing to give it a go” through to “if I never see evidence that this exists again it will be too soon”, but I do not believe that my personal tastes or sensibilities should be the yardstick by which fics are allowed or not allowed to be written. My personal tastes and sensibilities are the yardstick by which I READ fics, because I am in complete control of my own fandom experience.

3) If the information you need to proceed is what I am personally into, you can in fact fuck off. You are not entitled to this information. Kink writers are not required to disclose their kinks to you, in the same way you shouldn’t be demanding anyone’s sexuality/gender/trauma to determine whether they’re ‘allowed’ to write about a particular topic. I have been dealing with this shit on and off for YEARS, both from a ‘how dare you get turned on by this’ angle and from a ‘how dare you write this if you’re NOT turned on by this’ angle, and both takes are invasive and obnoxious. This is, incidentally, why I really hate the rhetoric of “the hottest fics are the ones the author wrote with one hand haha”—both because it’s really fucking weird to speculate on the sexual proclivities of someone who is usually a stranger, and because in my experience it simply isn’t true. I have really successful kink fics that are kinks I’m into and really successful kink fics that are things that don’t do it for me; I have less successful kink fics that I personally find really hot and less successful ones that I don’t. I have personal kinks and fetishes I’ve never written and probably never will (although, see point 1) because I worry that readers will perceive me a little too much. The only thing you’ll learn about my relationship to kink from reading my fics is the things I find psychologically interesting to write about.

4) I have fundamentally zero interest in debating the ~ethics~ of any particular kink, in fiction or otherwise, but I absolutely recommend perfecting the art of being squicked out or even disgusted by something without attaching any moral superiority to that feeling.

Like… curate your own experience, my friend. If you need to block me, block me. That’s cool. If you’re a regular reader/commenter/someone I interact with on tumblr dot com I’ll be sad to see you go, but you gotta do what you gotta do to make fandom fun and comfortable for you. But I tag my kink fics, so the ones that yuck your personal yum should be pretty easy for you to avoid.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 48

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Violence

Stolen

Killer helped you back to the ship. He had never seen you scared, but that was the only way to describe your current state. You wouldn't let him leave your sight. You didn't want to be alone. Killer waited for Kid to catch up to ask anything, to spare you from having to repeat yourself. In the meantime, he tried his best to comfort you. He could feel you shaking under the arm that was around you. It was concerning to him that you were this shaken up by the thought of even seeing this person. What had he done to you in the past? 

Kid came up beside both of you. The grin on his face quickly dissipated at the tense atmosphere. His eyes slid to your form, hunched under Killer's arm. "What happened?" 

Killer looked at you to answer, but you were in your head. "She thinks she saw someone from her past."

"I did see him." Your teeth chattered with anxiety.

"Are you sure you're not just drunk?" Kid said it, but Killer was also thinking it.

"I KNOW WHAT I SAW!" Hot tears poured over the rims of your eyes. "You don't forget the face of someone who did horrible, vile things to you every day for- for-" You didn't actually know for how long. It seemed far longer than it probably was. 

"Okay! Okay. Sorry. I believe ya." Kid walked on the other side of you and put his arm around you too. "We're not going to let anything happen to ya. I swear."

You shook your head. "He's going to get me. He's going to get me!" You put your head in your hands and slowed down. "You don't understand." Your voice cracked. "If he gets his hands on me, I'm worse than dead." 

"We'll protect you. You're a Kid Pirate. It's our job to keep you safe."

"I should never have stayed this long," you said through silent sobs. "I was supposed to get them. I waited too long. And now they're going to get me." 

Kid moved to face you, pulling your hands from your face and stooping to your level. "No one is laying a hand on ya. Do ya understand? Nobody steals from Eustass 'Captain' Kid."

You were still amongst the crowd. Kid and Killer blocked anyone from seeing too much of you. They knew you would hate to be perceived this way. Kid felt helpless, awful. There was seemingly nothing he could say that would make you feel better. Killer looked around for anything out of the ordinary. He didn't see anything, but his observation haki was setting alarm bells off in his head. 

"Kid, we need to leave. Now."

"What is it?" 

"I don't know." 

Mini let out a squeal for seemingly no reason, and it pulled you out of your thoughts. There was a spray of red as Mini let out another squeal. You realized she was being shot at. You pulled yourself out from between Kid and Killer and ran to her. You could feel Kid and Killer grab after you, but you shook them off to get to her. You knelt by her and put your hands into her fur, trying to find where the blood was coming from. Your hands finally sunk into warm, wet fur and Mini flinched. As fast as you could, you healed her. 

"Mini, come on!" You helped her up. You tried to jump on her back, but you were yanked backwards by your hair and hit your head hard on the ground. 

Your ears rang and your head spun, rolling to push yourself up. You didn't want to look up. If you saw his face, you would be frozen again. There was yelling around you and people running in all directions. Someone was talking to you but your ears were ringing too loudly for you to hear it. You stood up and stumbled a few steps. You saw the blue of Killer's shirt in front of you, blocking your view of Warthin, or who you assumed to be Warthin. You shook off the disorientation. What the fuck were you doing? You were a killer. You were not some pathetic victim. You were more than capable of defending yourself. You reclaimed ownership of your emotions, becoming furious. How dare they try and take your happiness from you when you had just found it. You couldn't just cry on the ground and let them. 

Taking in your surroundings, you were alarmed to see the white of marine uniforms, a lot of them. Thankfully, you kept your weapons on you when you went out that night. Your bracer turned into a sword and you immediately started cutting them down. More and more fell to your blade. You would have to thank Kid later. The quality of the metal made it seem like you were cutting through butter with a hot knife. You found yourself in a sea of white. How the fuck were there so many? This was not one ship's worth of men. You looked around to see that none of the crew was around, not even Mini. Last you saw her, she was with Quincy. You should have been worried, and yet you were excited. It was the perfect opportunity to try out something you had been wanting to since you accidentally discovered it. You withdrew your sword and instead focused on doing that thing that seemed to spook Kid. It was time to put some of these boys down.

The air around you was condensed until there was an unnatural hum and your feet came off the ground. You could feel the pull of an invisible force, trying to rip the air particles from your control. Instead of releasing it in a slow, controlled manner like the first time, you released it all at once, letting it get ripped away. Every particle that was straining against your hold and the forces of the other particles all erupted outwardly in a shockwave of energy in the form of an expanding, softly glowing yellow dome, tossing everyone near you backwards, and knocking down everyone in your general vicinity. It took a lot from you to do it, but the payoff was worth it. Ever since you saw the intrigue and uncertainty on Kid's face, you had wanted to see what kind of destruction it would cause. You didn't know how much it would do so you were careful to limit what you put into it. The last thing you wanted was to blow yourself or your crew up. 

"Well. Well. Seems you've picked up a few tricks since last we met."

The voice sent your mind careening back to a dark time. He was the most twisted of them. Before you discovered his true nature, you had actually thought that he was somewhat charming.  The thought made your stomach churn. You swallowed thickly, steeling yourself to face him. You didn't know how he avoided getting blown away. He looked pretty much the same, with more fine lines and sun damage. His eyes had that look that you hated, bright with excitement at your expense. It took much of your mental stamina to prevent yourself from thinking about the past. You wouldn't allow it to make you weak to the present. All you had to do was lay hands on him. Then you could end it. 

"Kind of you to save me the trouble of finding you," you spat.

"I'll have to remind you that I'm anything but kind."

Kid lost sight of you in the fray. So did Killer, attempting to get everyone safely back to Victoria. There were a lot of marines. Killer could tell now that there were multiple ships surrounding them. They could evade capture, but they had to leave as soon as possible. Kid instantly felt when you discharged your attack. There was some kind of magnetic characteristics within it. More importantly, he knew where you were now and flew off in that direction. He wouldn't normally have been worried about you. The way you had reacted earlier with such fear had him anxious, however. If you thought this was a serious threat, then that's how he would treat it. 

Warthin took a whip that was coiled at his hip and lashed out at you with it. It wasn't hard to avoid. At the same time, you didn't like that he could move you wherever he wanted. You stepped on the tip of the whip and drew your gunblade, firing it at him so he would have to move away from his weapon. He was bare-handed now. You shot at him a few more times and he dodged or deflected the bullets with haki. But the time it took for him to dodge gave you the opportunity to move closer. You closed the distance, feeling a sense of near-relief that you could reach out and end him. 

You couldn't reach your hand out. In fact, you couldn't take another step. Your knees hit the ground. You watched him calmly collect his whip and squat down in front of you. You felt so heavy. The rest of your body gave out seconds later. The only thing you could still move was your neck. 

"You didn't even feel it did you?" He reached and plucked something from the back of your neck, an extremely fine needle with a capillary tube attached. "Snake venom. Ironic right? Cost me an arm and a leg, but it's worth it for you. It better be, anyway." He put his hand on your cheek.

There wasn't a way you could think of to use your power to rid the neurotoxin from your bloodstream. If you could bite him before your jaw was paralyzed, maybe you could still win. "Fucking coward." You turned your head and bit him as hard as you could on his hand. Nothing was happening. No yellow glow. You did take a good hunk of meat out of it though. 

He sucked an angry breath in and jerked his hand back, spattering red all over the dirt. "That was my fault. I forgot you had a nasty mouth on you." He tore away your jacket with the aid of a knife. One strip he tied around his bleeding hand. Another he used to gag you. "Let's put that foul jacket to good use." Then he grabbed you by the hair and started to drag you.

Now you saw why your power didn't manifest. There were seastone shackles on your ankles. There were other men standing near that you hadn't seen, they must have put them on when your attention was on Warthin. There was a strange sensation as you felt your gunblade be tugged free from your holster, and your bracer be taken off your arm. You watched the metal twist into a spear and run through Warthin's chest. The half of you that was suspended by his grip hit the floor. You couldn't move to see anything, but there was purple energy crackling around. Kid! He came into your field of vision a s second later and picked you up.

"I'm sorry it got this far. I shoulda been here." Kid looked down at you. It filled him with rage, holding your limp body. If it weren't for the fact he could see and feel you breathe, he would assume you were dead. "I told ya no one st-."

You saw his head fly backward before flopping forward, something hot and wet dripping onto your face. Then you felt like you were falling forward and you were on the ground again, with Kid's heavy form on top of you, not moving. There was blood dripping from a wound on his head. You couldn't see the extent of the injury because of his red hair, but you still felt his heartbeat through his chest. 

A second later he was kicked off of you and you were being dragged toward the ship again. You kept your eyes on him for as long as you could, trying to make sure his chest was still rising and falling, but it was dark and the further you were taken away, the less you were sure you could still see it. 

Next

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin

[promptling]

CARMILLA by j. sheridan le fanu, edited by carmen maria machado

did you realize he killed her off?

who reads an introduction?

i long for the door to open.

i did not know that it was possible.

i did not realize my soil was not salted.

she is already dead.

someone did lie there, the place is still warm.

lord hear all good prayers for us, for jesus's sake.

the poor young lady is dead.

the letter appears to me to have been written in distraction.

i'm in one of my moping moods tonight.

i forget the rest.

was ever a being so born to calamity?

i cannot, dare not, delay.

it would be so delightful.

where am i? what is this place?

how do you like our guest?

tell me about her.

how very odd to say all that!

i hope i have not done a very foolish thing.

how wonderful!

i saw your face in a dream, and it has haunted me ever since.

i could not forget your face.

i don't know which of us should be more afraid of the other.

if you were less pretty i think i should be very much afraid of you.

i wonder whether you feel as strangely drawn towards me as i do to you.

i have never had a friend.

i shan't require assistance.

it is very hard to part with you.

young people like, and even love, on impulse.

heavens! if i had but known all!

your little heart is wounded.

if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours.

you are mine, you shall be mine, you and i are one forever.

what can you mean by this?

i don't know myself when you look so and talk so.

don't you perceive how discordant that is?

i think it very sweet.

you pierce my ears.

you must die - everyone must die - and all are happier when they do.

i don't trouble my head about peasants.

tell me nothing about ghosts.

i hope there is no plague or fever coming.

sit here, hold my hand.

that comes of strangling people with hymns!

i shall demand redress from him.

then you have been ill?

let us talk no more of it.

you would not wound a friend?

you are afraid to die?

girls are caterpillars while they live in the world, to be finally butterflies when the summer comes; but in the meantime there are grubs and larvae, don’t you see—each with their peculiar propensities, necessities and structure.

are you glad i came?

how romantic you are.

i have been in love with no one, and never shall, unless it should be with you.

i live in you, and you would die for me, i love you so.

is there a chill in the air?

it is the last time, perhaps, i shall see the moonlight with you.

i have been thinking of leaving you.

do you think that you will ever confide fully in me?

you do not know how dear you are to me.

i am under vows, no nun half so awfully.

you will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish.

how jealous i am you cannot know.

you must come with me, loving me, into death; or else hate me and still come with me, and hating me through death and after.

there is no such word as indifference in my apathetic nature.

you are going to talk your wild nonsense again.

were you ever at a ball?

i was all but assassinated in my bed.

love will have its sacrifices.

no sacrifice without blood.

you see it now with your own eyes.

you must not plague me with questions.

you are not to trouble your head about it.

i should tell you all with pleasure, but you should not believe me.

you puzzle me utterly.

i had no hope of meeting you so soon.

[cadomoisspokenfor]

I haven’t watched the Knuckles show yet, but even before seeing it I’m tired of the discourse. Mostly I’m tired of the way this fandom talks about each other, and how we’ve seemingly given in completely to the narrative of universal toxicity prescribed to the fandom by people outside it.

If someone says they dislike a certain piece of Sonic media, or have even an inkling of criticism for it, they get thousands of responses decrying them with things like “the Sonic fandom hates fun” or “the Sonic fandom is so toxic, they can’t handle even the tiniest adaptational changes” or “Sonic fans literally don’t even like the character.”

If someone says they like a certain piece of Sonic media, or even just praise certain aspects of it, they get thousands of responses along the lines of “Sonic fans standards are so low they’ll praise ANYTHING” or “Sonic fans don’t even know what good media is” or “the Sonic fandom is a cult that doesn’t accept even the smallest criticisms of their god.”

First off, which is it? Is the Sonic fandom incapable of hearing criticism, or does it only ever criticize without enjoying new things?

Second, this idea of the Sonic fandom being inherently toxic no matter what is a large part of what’s breeding so much toxicity in the first place. Can’t you see it? Please tell me you can see it. If no one can discuss ANYTHING, no matter what opinion they have, without it being labelled as “typical Sonic fan craziness,” than any attempt at building healthy community in the first place is forfeit because it’s already been decided that talking about the character we all like is off limits. We’re all only here to be mad at each other. No one dares say they’re actually a part of the fandom. We all have to be “fandom adjacent” to not be perceived as toxic by default. And that’s stupid.

Why do we talk to each other with such condescension? Why have we just accepted this state of affairs? Why do we act like our opinions are objective and that everyones else must agree with us or else be labeled as “crazy Sonic fans” even if we’re clearly Sonic fans ourselves? And if we don’t act like that, why do we tolerate so many others acting this way and ruining what could be a fairly straightforward and happy fan community? (Not to point the finger but many popular youtubers who dabble in Sonic perpetuate the above quite a bit and I very much wish we’d all stop treating them as arbiters of reason. They’re just people, same as you and me. It’s ok to disagree with them. It should be at least.)

I’m serious. Toxicity in the fandom is a real problem that needs constant vigilance in order to maintain a healthy community space, but that idea has been weaponized and the fandom’s become exponentially worse for it.

I guess I’m just asking, more like pleading, that before you jump to labeling someone saying they like or dislike a piece of media as toxic, stop and ask yourself “Are they really being toxic? Or are they just having an opinion in a completely-unsensational-if-it-was-any-fandom-but-the-sonic-fandom kinda way?”

People need to be able to say “Yes, we’re Sonic fans” without it carrying a negative connotation. And that takes recognizing the humanity in each other first and foremost. If we keep capitulating to those who call the fandom inherently toxic, it will only get worse. Again, toxicity is bad but we lost the plot ages ago. Let’s try and find it and then maybe this fandom can actually be fun again.

[themarsbar]

martinaaaa if you still want to do these and because it doesn’t look like anyone else has asked you, would love to know what you think for 27 :) and also 36! 💖💜🌸

hi belle hi!! 🌼 i'm absolutely delighted to keep doing this

27. Craziest place they had sex? depends on how crazy you think having sex in one's sister's car is...... i hope sara never has to find out

36. Who is more protective? i feel like they both are but it comes out differently. wille's more reactive in the moment, he doesn't think much, his instinct just kicks in as soon as he perceives the "threat" (i mean he did basically beat august up when he dared talk to simon.....). simon's quieter, i feel like he'd let things play out and focus on making sure that wille's okay later. not in a cowardly way (imagine calling simon a coward ha!), just in the sense that he respects that people should be able to use their own voice to defend themselves, without having someone else speak for or over them. then he'd probably see how wille wants to deal with it and back him up 100%, even though i wouldn't put it past him to have a little bit of a vindictive streak that he goes about in secret, who knows.

unless it gets physical of course, then he bites.

ask me about my OTP

[venny-the-mha-writer]

Yandere stars and stripes with a fem number 2 hero please

Title: Obsession of Liberty

Might be going back into my mha phase for this😭😭😭 btw thanks for your request luv 🫶

In the heart of the battlefield, you and Cassie moved in perfect sync, as if you had trained together for years. She was larger than life—her towering frame, blonde hair whipping in the wind, and unwavering smile a beacon of American power and freedom. And you? The Number Two Hero, right by her side, fierce, competent, and entirely focused on the mission. But you’d noticed it—the way her gaze lingered just a little too long, how she always seemed to shadow your movements, as though guarding you from a threat only she perceived.

It wasn’t until the battle ended, and the dust settled, that you caught her staring at you in that way again. Her deep, blue eyes held a spark, a fire of admiration… or something darker.

“Y’know, partner,” Cassie began, stepping closer, her grin unwavering but intense. “I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.” Her voice was casual, yet there was an underlying edge that set you on alert.

“Cassie, we’ve been a team for a while now. I think you could’ve managed just fine on your own,” you replied, chuckling lightly, hoping to keep things light. But she only stepped closer, her towering presence almost suffocating.

“You’re wrong.” She reached out, brushing a gloved hand against your cheek, her touch lingering far too long. “You’re special to me, more than anyone else.”

You stepped back, her words setting off alarm bells. “Cassie, we’re heroes. We protect people together—that’s our job.”

“Oh, but it’s more than that,” she whispered, her smile growing wider, almost manic. “I would burn this entire world to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.”

Cassie’s obsession grew over the next few weeks. At first, it was subtle—always ensuring you worked together, showing up whenever you had a solo mission, her unwavering smile and protective stance constantly at your back. But soon, her possessiveness became suffocating.

When you mentioned teaming up with other heroes, she’d narrow her eyes, her grip tightening on her weapon until her knuckles turned white. Her jealousy wasn’t subtle, and you’d see her bristle whenever anyone got too close to you. “They don’t understand you like I do,” she’d say. “They don’t deserve to fight by your side.”

Eventually, you couldn’t ignore it. After a particularly intense mission where Cassie had gone overboard in dealing with a villain who’d dared to lay a hand on you, you confronted her.

“Cassie, this has to stop! I’m not some fragile thing you need to protect. We’re equals,” you asserted, standing tall despite the anxiety her intense stare induced.

Her smile faded, replaced by a cold expression that made your heart race with fear. “Equals?” she repeated, her voice dangerously low. “Equals? You think anyone could be my equal?” She stepped closer, trapping you against the wall. “I’ve sacrificed everything to be here, to be by your side. I’m your protector. And if you can’t understand that…” Her grip tightened on your arm, almost painful. “Then maybe you don’t understand what’s best for you.”

Your blood ran cold. Cassie wasn’t just a hero. She was someone who had made a decision, in her own twisted way, to ensure your safety at all costs. And as her face softened into that familiar smile, you realized she would never let you go.

Sorry is kinda short this I made this before I went to work and I’m working on a chubby calendar for demon slayer for November it should be up tomorrow 😊🫶

[jamiesfootball]

When I finished reading The Beautiful and Damned, I had a fuckton of thoughts about it. I even started writing an essay about it.

But then I had people come over for dinner and I was tired and I never finished the essay nor do I remember where I was going with it. Since then it's just been crowding up my drafts.

So here is the first part of what was going to be that essay. From here on out I'll just add bits as they come to me.

(Side note: I have not changed it from my original essay format at all. Have fun with that)

I have just finished reading The Beautiful and Damned and BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ON HOW IT RELATES TO JAMIE.

Another long one for you, folks.

[Charlie meme]

First of all let’s just admit and accept that I have officially dedicated more time and thought into this book choice for Jamie than the writers likely did. Got it? Good. Now I’ll start with the painful admission—

This book on its surface isn’t actually a bad choice for Jamie. The book anywhere below the surface is an awful choice for Jamie, and I despise it as a choice for him.

If we’re looking at it from Ted’s and the writers’ perspective (presuming the writers’ had one), I can see why Ted chose this book. There are some clear parallels between Jamie and the main protagonist, Anthony Patch. Both are wealthy and live the sort of shameless lifestyle that comes with it. Both have a choice in partner that supports the image of that lifestyle. Both have a clear superiority complex – though it stems from different things (Anthony Patch, classicism; Jamie, actual talent).

Neither character shows any indication of forethought as to what their life will look like in the future.

As a cautionary tale, the book makes sense. Here is someone else who wasted their life and chances because they were so invested in the perceived future they thought they were owed, that they neglected to do anything of meaning with their present opportunities.

From the writer’s perspective, there is even an amount of foreshadowing to the choice with regards to the upcoming hints they would show about Jamie’s dad. Because Anthony Patch doesn’t just ruin his life, in doing so he becomes a temperamental, angry, emotionally abusive alcoholic. So it’s a cautionary tale in two folds – not just in regards to his lifestyle but also the possibility that Jamie on his current path may eventually become someone who repeats the cycle.

But.

BUT.

Even from the beginning, there is big, BIG discrepancy between Jamie and Anthony Patch that even Ted, not knowing much about Jamie at all, should have been able to pick up on, and that is that ANTHONY PATCH HAS NEVER HAD A REAL JOB IN HIS LIFE.

The Anthony Patch’s of the world don’t become professional footballers. They don’t become professional anythings. Anthony’s whole arc is spent waiting for the good thing to happen to him, and in doing so squandering the many, many opportunities he was given.

Whereas when we first meet Jamie, he has already seized the good thing for himself.

And here’s where the rest of the essay was going to be. Whoops.

[something something interesting coincidence that at some point Anthony refers to “his last club – The Amsterdam”]

Potential talking points regarding Ted’s books of choice for Roy, Jamie, and Sam, including but not limited to: target audience, lesson given, lesson needed, prose style, ease of prose, ease of lesson, additional obstacles (vocab, triggering subject matter), the -isms, relatability, effect on character

The Keeley of it all (how dare you, Ted)