#so everything's just gonna get locked down until some one tells us it's safe to unlock them

[killerandhealerqueen]

To all of my readers who follow me both here and on ao3, I've decided to lock down my works with this whole new AI scrapping crap that's going on. I hate doing this (and it's the first time i'm actually doing it normally i wouldn't) but I'm sick and tired of people scraping ao3 to train their ai so...works are now locked down. If you want to read my stuff but don't have an account, please dm me, I have a few invitations left (or ask other ao3 users, I'm sure they have invitations to spare).

I know this is inconvenient (believe me, it's bullshit) but I'm protecting my work cuz I worked fucking hard on it and I'm not letting it be scraped

[bunnyrafe]

𓊆ྀིWE NEED TO TALK !𓊇ྀི — when soft pogue!reader gets caught up, rafe decides it’s time for some discipline within their dynamic.

♥︎ 𝓃otes: apologies if it bothers you that the first section is in one POV and the rest is in another, just wanted to experiment a bit / set the scene. hope everyone enjoys xoxo

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 1.2k. taboo / toxic themes. father figure bf!rafe & soft pogue!reader AU. controlling behavior, use of daddy & dad, manhandling, impact play (spanking w/ a belt), crying, aftercare.

rafe knows in his heart that his girl doesn't do things to upset him on purpose. at least that's what he would like to think.

he can't imagine her deliberately breaking rules, no matter how vicious her bratty streak may be. she's always been careful to not make him too upset, and is remorseful after the fact if she does manage to get under his skin or do something unsatisfactory. but sometimes, things can't be forgiven so easily.

it all started with a text. her phone vibrated on the bed and that cute, little ringtone she picked out echoed through the room, piquing rafe's interest. she's always given him access to her phone so today shouldn't be any different. he recognizes the name that’s displayed on her screen— a close friend. a fellow pogue.

u act like he's ur dad or smth don't let him control you like that

ugh stop it's not like that :(((

then what's the issue? ??? just sneak away while he's sleeping tonight lmfao

it stings a bit as he reads through the messages, because he knows these are things that normal people her age do. he knows that this is where their age difference becomes a problem even with the dynamic they’ve built…

i'll see what i can do

u better who gives af what that old kook thinks

at first, rafe really tries not to hold it against her. afterall they’re not her words. but as his mind wanders, and he reads over “i’ll see what i can do” time and time again, he wonders how many message threads like this she’s hidden from him and deleted. how many times she’s contemplated sneaking out as if he’d ever give her the opportunity to do such a thing.

he can’t help but start seeing red. he does everything in his power to keep her safe under his roof, only to receive things like this in return. she’ll always be a filthy pogue— he thinks to himself.

maybe he’ll just have to be more proactive when it comes to her.

when you step out of your bath, you immediately wrap yourself up in your fluffiest robe. you pad into your shared bedroom and think about which lotion ‘n mist you want to put on for the day, clearly content now that you’re all soft and clean.

but instead of making your way to your vanity, you immediately stop in your tracks upon seeing rafe’s belt laying on your duvet. it’s a sign that you don’t take lightly. even more so when you hear his footsteps behind you.

he breathes in deep before opening his mouth to speak. the sound of his voice makes you jump despite how calm he is, “go sit down on the bed f’me, angel.”

your eyes are already burning with tears.

rafe stands in front on you as you gingerly take your seat on the edge of the bed, nervously folding your trembling hands in your lap. yet your gaze follows rafe’s own hands intently when he suddenly pulls your phone out of the pocket of his slacks and holds it up with a familiar text thread on your screen— fuck.

“i promise, daddy!” you’re wailing before you can think about what you’re saying, “i wasn’t gonna sneak out!”

rafe purses his lips and nods, locking eyes with you, “oh, i believe you— but y’thought about it, didn’t you?”

you fall quiet. bottom lip wobbling because you know there’s no way you can possibly escape whatever he has planned for you. you don’t put up a fight when rafe guides you to turn around, when they lay you down and he tells you to stay that way in a stern voice. he yanks on the tie of your robe while you're tummy down, stripping it off of you until you're shivering in the cool air of your bedroom.

bare and nervously anticipating his next move.

out of the corner of your eye, you see him pick up his belt. you’re sure he’s wrapping the leather around his fist, getting a good grip so there’s no doubt in either of your brains that the first crack on your plump ass won't hurt like hellfire.

you smell so sweet and cozy to rafe’s nose, like warm sugar cookies and milk. it almost makes him feel bad for what he's about to do to you. especially when he sees you holding your little fawn that’s been resting on the bed to your chest for dear life, wiping your tears with her artificial fur and sniffling into your stuffed friend. his breathing falters for a second but his hands flex and grip around the leather in his fist nonetheless—

“you know the drill, angel face. take your punishment like a good girl ‘n you’ll be fine— dad’ll take good care of you afterwards.”

5 swats on your ass that you're commanded to keep high in the air. that’s all it is— but that doesn’t mean you’re not in hysterics after each one. squirming and sobbing into your bedding as pain induced heat spreads over your entire body, shakily counting after each one. you’re not sure what’s worse. the biting pain itself or the dull ache it brings on between your thighs.

the number you babble out is always followed by an apology ("i'm so sorry, daddy) and a sniffle that tugs on rafe's heart strings. he's more relieved than you are when he drops the belt to the ground with a thud. by then you're delirious.

rafe’s finger tips graze your stinging cheeks, forcing a mewl out of you before he steps around the bed and sits next to your shaking form. he welcomes you into his arms and you’re quick to grab at him, yanking on the crisp cotton of his button up as you situate yourself in his lap with a sore bum.

“wasn’t so bad, was it?” he whispers against your hairline, but you’re still too stunned to say anything in return—

“y’know, baby— i don’t like hurting you, not one bit, but i can’t have you— fuckin’ talking behind my back like that… especially not to your lil’ pogue friends,” he rubs your sides as speaks, “don’t you respect your daddy?”

“i know.” you whisper into his chest, “i promise i respect you, daddy— s’much… no more talking behind your back.”

“that’s my good girl.”

rafe gives you a fat kiss after that. he tucks his fingers under your chin and forces your pretty, little head to tilt towards him. his lips meet yours in such a needy but delicate way, it makes your head spin as you feel loved but understood in the most fucked up of ways— “my best girl,” he whispers into your pouty mouth while you try to chase after him for more smooches.

he pats your thigh, then his hand travels upwards to rub over the skin of your ass that’s hot to the touch. you wince at the contact.

“stay here f’me,” rafe says, and you’re nodding like a loyal puppy before he even explains himself, “gonna get your lotion and some water for you.”

you’re a little reluctant to let him leave, holding onto his larger hand until he swears he’ll be quick— yet you find yourself smiling as he walks away, head fully in the clouds. nothing about any of this is conventional. you never admitted it was… but maybe you’re finally at peace with the fact that no one else has to understand what happens between the two of you. not even your friends.

[allywthsr]

TRAVELING HOME | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando travel home for Christmas

wordcount: 1.2k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: read this please, I don’t know when the rest is coming out, I’m writing as fast as I can 🫶🏼

advent calendar

”Lando, do you have everything?“

You two were standing in your hallway with the luggage and backpacks, ready to fly home. Or at least to Lando’s home. This year was the Norris‘ turn of hosting the Christmas dinner and morning, your family would join you tomorrow.

”I think so.“

”You think or you know?“

”Uhm, I think that I know.“

”I‘m gonna check again.“

You shook your head with a smile, you were anxious. Anxious that you would forget something, you didn’t care about clothes because you could borrow some from Lando, but if you would forget a present, that would be fatal. You couldn’t exactly just pop over and get it, so you check at least five times if you packed them, before closing the suitcase. For one last time, you went into the guest room to check it for remaining presents, the bed was empty, under the bed too, just like the closet and the floor. The guest room was where you kept every present and wrapped them too, Lando didn’t help you at all with the wrapping, but you knew he wasn’t good at it.

The first two Christmas you got presents that were self-wrapped, and boy did they look funny, the wrapping was all over the place and it was more wonky than straight, and let’s not start with the amount of tape he used to secure the paper. Now he gets it wrapped immediately in the store he buys it from, or lets his mum wrap it. You always told him you didn’t care what it looked like wrapped, as long it came from the heart, but he was fed up with Oliver making fun of his (non-existent) skills.

After double-checking the guest room, and the office, because you had to make sure no one placed anything there, you went back to Lando to the hallway and grabbed your suitcase after pulling on your winter jacket.

”Do you really have anything? Toothbrush?“

”Put it in my bag this morning.“

”Underwear?“

”I brought enough, I hope you didn’t bring any, makes it more thrilling.“

”Gross! Beanies?“

”More than enough. Calm down, will you? We’re flying to my parents, they have stuff from me still in my room, and even you‘ve left clothes there.“

You let out a shaky breath.

Lando opened his arms and you fell into them, holding him close to you. You wanted everything to be perfect, you loved Christmas and it should run smoothly.

”But we really have to leave now.“

You nodded and let go of him, opening the door and walking through it, Lando locked the door and you stepped into the elevator. Outside of your building, a taxi was waiting for you, you two got in and it drove you to the Nice airport.

Lando had a cap on his head and a hoodie, trying to disguise, so he wouldn’t get recognized by people. Normally he always took his time with taking pictures and talking, but you’re already late, and he wanted you to be safe, mobs of people didn’t care about you, and more than once it happened, that you were pushed and shoved until you were crying.

You gave up your bags and made your way to the security check-in, the line wasn’t long, so you didn’t have to wait as long as you thought. The duty-free section was something you always admired, you always bought a little snack for the plane ride, sometimes it was some gummy bears or a chocolate bar, but Lando always had a bite, or multiple, not that you would tell Jon about it. But now, it didn’t matter, Lando was free for the next few months and could devour a whole Kinder bar pack and no one would care, he still needed to work out a few times a week, but it was less stressful.

You still had about thirty minutes until boarding would start, so you sat down in a quiet corner and talked about the most random things, your head was lying on his shoulder and his hand was gripping your thigh, stroking it gently every now and then. You loved cuddling with Lando, it was your favorite thing to do with him, even in public.

When the flight was announced, Lando and you slowly made your way to the counter, you avoided the big crowds, just in case someone recognized Lando or you. Scanning the pass quickly, you two walked through the long tunnel with your backpacks in your bags, where important stuff was packed. The plane was packed, so Lando pulled his cap further in his face and hoodie higher, so he could hide his face more. Luckily you didn’t have to walk for long through the plane, Lando booked business class tickets. You tried to tell him, you two didn’t need this, but what Lando wanted, he got. That was his Ariana Grande ’I want it, I got it‘ moment.

He insisted you two flew in business class, because, one, you didn’t need to walk through the whole plane and the chance of getting recognized was smaller, and two, you had more legroom, which he loved. But you let him buy it, because it was his money, and he could spend it on whatever he wanted.

When the plane was in the air, and you were settled in comfortably, you couldn't wait to get home, even if it was Lando’s home, it was still home. The smell of Christmas always smelt different when the whole family was there, especially because Cisca went big on Christmas. Tons of cookies were waiting for you, hot chocolates and teas as well, and let’s not forget the beautiful Christmas dinner and breakfast she always did. And that your family also came, made things even better. Normally you would’ve hosted Christmas, but the flat was way too small for everyone to fit in, and Monaco was expensive, the hotel costs would’ve been unnecessary.

”I can’t wait to be home, see everyone.“

You hummed and thought about the last Christmas you spent there, it was the second Christmas you two were together and you decided you wanted to spend it together. The Norris‘s hosted it and it was like you always joined them, everyone had a small gift for you, they all welcomed you beautifully in the family, not that they hadn’t before, but now it felt official, and the whole mood was perfect.

When you arrived, you quickly got off the plane, to avoid the other people and waited for the luggage at the strap, of course, yours came almost at the end, you couldn’t wait to get out of the airport. London Heathrow was busy, very busy. While walking next to the big crowds and lines, you could hear mumbling ’Is that Lando Norris?‘ but you only pulled more on his hand and you two were almost sprinting through the halls, wanting to reach the exit where Oliver was kindly waiting to pick you up.

You greeted him with a hug, Lando did the same and you quickly got in his car and you were driving home for Christmas.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 3

Again the winner of last week's poll! There won't be a poll this week because I'm planning something a bit different. I hit 1000 followers this past week and have been wracking my brain about how to celebrate! Wasn't up for doing prompts or adding more projects to my list, though, so I didn't want to go that route.

But I did come up with something that I think everyone will really enjoy. Especially those of you who have been voting for Carry Your Heart (I see you in the tags!). So look out for that post.

In addition, I've just posted the first chapter of Arc 2 on AO3! Link below.

Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.

Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: AO3 (incomplete); Tumblr - First, Final

Arc 3: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

Fire rushing through him jolted Danny awake. His back arched as he cried out. He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to see what torture his parents were going to come at him with next when he realized what the sound of his cry meant: the muzzle was gone.

As were the restraints. And he was lying on something soft. Trying hard not to hope, he opened his eyes.

Sam and Jazz were leaning over him, concern clear on their faces. They were in some sort of ambulance or van.

“How are you feeling,” demanded Sam.

Danny took a moment to answer, his chest was pure agony. He didn’t even want to think what it would feel like to sit up. And even past that, everything was sore. Though the fire that had woken him up had dissipated, the tell-tale feel of ecto-dejecto. “Pretty much the worst I’ve ever felt,” he answered honestly.

Sam and Jazz both winced and his sister grabbed his hand. He squeezed her fingers weakly.

At the foot of his bed stood Tim in full Red Robin getup and Kon as Superboy.

He couldn’t hold back the smile as he met Tim’s gaze. “You came,” he said.

Tim didn’t smile back, but some tension eased out of his shoulders. “I always will,” he said. “Been telling you that since we were ten years old.”

“I know. I’ve always known. Thank you.”

Jazz squeezed his hand again and he looked at her. “Red Robin and Superboy are going to take you away from here. Robin will help you recover.”

Sam nodded. “Yep. And the rest of us are gonna focus on making sure Amity is safe for ghosts once and for all.”

Danny shook his head. “I should be there with you guys, fighting.”

“Nope!” interrupted Jazz. “Not even a little. You’re going to focus on getting better, got it, Danny? That’s all we want from you.”

“But the ghosts—”

Sam covered his mouth with her hand. “Stop it right there. Tucker is working with Impulse and Wonder Girl to get the portal locked up. No one will be coming through. No one—ghost or human—will be in any danger while you’re gone. I promise.”

Danny slumped into the bed. Even the slight change in position caused waves of pain to radiate from his chest even through the healing ice he could feel implanted in his body. He whimpered and closed his eyes until the throbbing receded just a bit. “I trust you. I do, it’s just…”

“You’re used to taking care of everyone,” finished Jazz for him. “We know. So let us take care of you for a change. We love you, Danny.”

“Love you, too, Jazz. Sam.”

“Be good for bird-brain there, got it?” ordered Sam.

Danny gave her a half-smile. “Are Tim and I ever good together?”

She laughed. “Well, don’t burn down Gotham, capiche?”

“Capiche.”

“We have to go now,” said Jazz.

Danny gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t leave me.”

Jazz winced, but leaned down to kiss his forehead. “We need to make sure the Guys in White aren’t going to get involved further. And you need to get someplace safe.”

Danny huffed a half laugh. “Gotham is safe?”

Jazz rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a joke. “For you it is. Now, I’m leaving Red and Superboy with a case full of ectoplasm for you and our entire supply of ecto-dejecto. I just gave you your first injection. Please try and eat something and drink your ectoplasm regularly.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Jazz.”

Jazz sniffed and it was only then that Danny realized it was wetter than usual and her eyes were watery. He tried not to feel bad for his jokes when she replied, “Yes, it is whatever I say. Glad you agree.”

Sam cackled, and now that he was paying attention, Danny could hear the hysterical edge to it. “You’d better text us multiple times a day, ghost boy. Don’t try and lie to us, either. Kon’ll tell me the truth about your condition. And as soon as we can arrange it, we’re coming out your way for a visit.”

“Course I will, Sam. Give Tuck my best?”

“Duh. He wishes he could’ve come with us, you know.”

Danny nodded. “But he’s better with the tech stuff and that is just as time sensitive.”

“Yeah. Now, get some sleep,” Sam ordered. “You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”

Danny gave the rote answer after too many all-nighters taking care of ghost attacks before school, “I’m dead, I don’t need sleep.”

His sister squeezed his hand. “Ghosts who just went through what you did need their sleep. Love you, Danny. Get well and I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, Jazz.”

She kissed his forehead one more time, followed by Sam. And with another two rounds of farewells and love yous, he was alone with Tim and Kon.

“Thanks for coming,” he said again.

“Obviously we weren’t going to leave you there,” said Kon. “Being a lab subject isn’t fun. Especially not that kinda lab experiment.”

Danny couldn’t quite hold back the flinch at that description. It was accurate, but blunt.

Tim walked over until he was sitting by Danny’s bed. “Just listen to Jazz and get some rest. We’re going to be taking the long route to Gotham by going south to start. If we stop for food in a few hours, think you could handle a smoothie?”

Danny shrugged and bit back a yawn. “Could try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Kon moved towards the front of the vehicle as well. “Looks like it’s time for us to skedaddle. I’ll keep the road from jostling you, ghost-boy.”

Danny gave a small smile and let his eyes close. As he did, he tried to mumble his thanks and he hoped it came across.

---

The next time he woke was more gentle. Someone was tapping on his shoulder and calling his name. But even so, as he was pulled closer to awareness, the pain made itself more and more known. He tried to cling to the darkness, but the tapping wasn’t stopping, nor was the person calling him.

He blinked open his eyes to see Tim’s concerned face. He wasn’t wearing the domino anymore, or his costume. Just a sweatshirt and jeans.

“Hey, Danny,” said Tim. “I’m going to need you to try and eat a bit right now. Kon got us those smoothies I mentioned. I’ve also got yogurt if that’ll be easier for you. But the smoothie will have more nutrients.”

Danny closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to eat. Why did Tim have to bring him back to consciousness for this? He hurt and just wanted to sink back into oblivion.

The tapping on his shoulder began again. “I know, Danny. But you have to eat something. And you should take some ectoplasm, too. So just stay awake for a few minutes.”

“Mm ‘wake,” said Danny without opening his eyes. He shifted his weight, hoping to push himself up to eat, only to scream in pain as his chest protested any movement.

“Shit! Don’t move,” said Tim too late. “I’ve got a spoon here. I’ll feed it to you, okay? So just stay exactly where you are.”

Danny gripped his sheets, unable to do anything else as wave after wave of pain over took him. Tim kept up a litany of reassurances and stroked his hair. Eventually, Danny was able to think past it again.

“Don’t think I can sit up,” said Danny.

“Of course not,” agreed Tim. He held a styrofoam cup between his knees and carefully took off the lid and straw. “Just let me. Take at least a few bites. Swallow as is, don’t try and chew. Just do what you can, okay?”

“Okay,” agreed Danny and Tim fed him the first bite.

Danny hated this. Hated it so much. Here he was being spoon fed like a baby all because his parents… He shut his eyes and took the next bite. He wasn’t going to finish that thought. Tim was here and that’s what mattered.

Danny wasn’t sure how much he ate, but it couldn’t have been much. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier and the pull of oblivion stronger.

“Wait, Danny. Stay awake just a little longer, okay?”

Danny groaned but forced his eyes open again.

Tim showed him a bottle of ectoplasm. “Just a few swallows of this, too. Okay?”

He didn’t want to. He’d rather just go to sleep again, but he opened his mouth obediently. By the time he finished his third spoonful, he couldn’t fight it anymore and slumped into the bed. The pain receded back into blackness for a time.

-----

Next

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Danny is going to be getting all the comfort throughout this. All of them will, tbh. Because no one is happy and they all need a hug or five.

Let me know what you think!

[southparkhcsocs]

I NEED WEDDING HCS WITH THE MAIN FOUR + BUTTERS 😭😭

Really fun writing this one! i thought i was gonna struggle

i hope you like it :3

Stan Marsh

Wants to help plan

live band please

didn't want to invite his dad

Sharon kinda made him although she understood

there would just be more problems if Randy wasn't invited

will cry as soon as he sees you

and I don't mean a single tear

i mean ugly sobbing

he's so lucky

can barely get through his vows

for the first time in years he gets that urge to vomit

thank-fucking-ly he doesn't throw up

his speech at the reception is sweet and short

mostly about how he's the luckiest guy in the world

3 tier chocolate

Kyle Broflovski

with you every step of the way

a lot of arguments about what flowers, colours, flavour of the cake

you'd both had to compromise

speechless, blushing mess when he see's you in your dress

like it's funny how red he's got

he stuttered when saying his vows and thinks he ruined the whole day

apologises so much

he made sure not to fuck up when "you may kiss" came along lemme tell you

Shelia shook

your dad shook

you 😏

dude knows how to use his tongue idk what to tell you

his speech was perfect, the right amount of sweet, funny and embarrassing

2 tier vanilla

Kenny McCormick

shocking not a shotgun wedding

doesn't get involved with planning

like so much so it's annoying

"but it's your day"

no fuck you Ken it's your day too!

will make sure the wedding location is completely safe

bro doesn't want to die on his wedding day

looks so fucking happy seeing you in your dress

like he's smug that he's locking you in

his vows are full of inside jokes and innuendos

same with his speech

with btw

almost missed the dinner because as soon as you both walked down the isle he was whispering all sorts of filthy things to you

but you don't want to mess up your hair and makeup

2 tier toffee sponge

Eric Cartman

SAID he's not going to help plan

but will dig at almost everything you chose

almost cancel the whole thing

why are you marrying him??

turns out the one thing you got right is your dress

because it wiped that damn smirk off his face when you came down the isle

he sooooo wanted to be angry

but how could he when you looked that beautiful

ofc he didn't write any vows

thought he'd just wing it

but shit, now he's all flustered!

he manages to spill out some crap about how lucky he is and how beautiful you are

and then he wouldn't stop

in his eyes it was just you and him and he gushed and gushed

until one of the guests cleared their throat

fuck never seen him redder

luckily he writ down his dinner speech

it was incredibly short and all about how you were the lucky one

4 tier red velvet

Leopold "Butters" Stotch

helps with the planning just right

but asks some stupid questions

wedding in Hawaii otherwise he's grounded

you obviously didn't want to invite his parents but they're his parents

his vows are sweet, about how he's devoted to you

trips a bit as you both walk down the isle

and really hope you're not mad at him because of it

and of course you're not

how could you be mad at him

his speech was pretty much the same as his vows

cupcake tower

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Three | Where It All Started…

D O M ‘ S P O V

Slamming her door shut I rounded the car and slipped behind the wheel. The tension was so thick I couldn’t breath easy but maybe that was simply the anger talking.

I was tired of making her mine, fucking her senseless, marking her body with me, everything I could to make sure the world knew she was mine. Instead the world kept testing me and forcing me to prove it.

Our past was never going to stop haunting us.

Slicing through the silence I finally forced the words past my locked jaw. “How many ways do I have to make you mine? Every fucking corner there’s something or someone spitting in my face when it comes to you. Our whole damn lives. My name is fucking tattooed on your ass but you can’t tell me shit like that? Instead Blaine does?”

Her hand reached for my thigh, inching her way dangerously close to way we settle everything.

“It’s the past. He’s just trying to piss you off like he always has.” I could hear it in her voice, the way she skipped over the important stuff to spare my feelings. Tonight she saw the part of me she hasn’t before. The part that I keep locked away so no one gets hurt.

“No, the past is you fucking him, but the present is me trying to purpose when your ex drops by to let me know he’s already done that.” I fished the ring box out of my jacket pocket and dropped it in her lap.

I had rendered her speechless when she delicately picked up the box but didn’t dare open it.

“That’s why you went on all those dates, kept telling me we couldn’t be together, avoided sex until you couldn’t - to spare my feelings, right? Everything you did was fucking noble because it was to spare me. Only now it didn’t protect me for shit.” Pulling into our driveway I turned off the car and sat there waiting for her to get out so I could leave again. I needed to clear my head and dump the anger on the side of the road where it couldn’t lash out again.

“Dom,” I felt her hand squeeze my thigh before she tried to lean over the console between us. “Just come inside. Please.”

Twisting my gaze I started at her insulted, cold and emotionless. “Why, so you can fuck me into forgiving you? You have a good pussy but it’s not gonna work this time, mi amore.”

There was no doubt about it: we were toxic, manipulative, sometimes hurtful but everything we did was to spare some kind of pain. It made sense but all I wanted was space to be pissed.

Slipping out of the car she gave up and left the ring box in her seat instead. Peeling out of the drive way I drove nowhere, anywhere, with the music blaring and my mind knotted up.

I was going to ask her to marry me and Blaine already did. Not even that he did but she said yes.

I drove around until I stopped looking for a fight. My fists finally relaxed and my jaw unclenched when I turned into the driveway.

Inside, climbing the stairs I could see the warm glow of candles and immediately regretted not slumming it in a guest room.

Opening the door I saw the mess of candles and the purple lace thong peeking under the shirt she was wearing. No doubt my shirt. Fast asleep I quietly moved through the room, discarding my clothes except a plain shirt and my boxer briefs.

Siting down in our bed I scrolled through ignored texts when I felt her hands touched my back under my shirt. “You’re finally home.”

“I almost crashed at my parents. I’m not in the mood. I have to catch a flight tomorrow and get back to work. I just wanna relax while I can.” Slamming the end table drawer with the ring box tucked safely inside I felt her jump at the sound.

Her lips kissed my jaw and neck so lightly it almost tickled.

My hands gently pushed her back as I sat against the headboard and got control over her throwing herself at me. “Hey, I’m serious. It’s gonna take time to digest.”

Sitting on her knees next to me she spoke, explained. “I said yes but only because you were going to USC with Marie. I didn’t wanna be alone.”

I kept my eyes on my phone when I replied, “Should I pity you?”

“Dom. I have a past just as much as you do. It’s not easy just blurting out reasons to hate me. When does it come up in conversation?”

“After I told you everyone I fucked.” I felt her hand reach out, trying to touch me if the truth didn’t. Without warning she climbed on top of my lap, straddling me and stealing the phone in my hands. Tossing it in the bed next to us she guided my hands to her tits as she adjuster herself on top of me.

“I’m sorry. Blaine was your biggest archenemy, I wasn’t trying to make it worse. I should have told you, okay? I never thought we would be here.”

“Doesn’t matter now. I wanted to be the first you said yes to.” My voice was tired and lazy as my hands dropped from her chest. “I’m gonna go to bed. I gotta be up early to shower before my flight.”

“Dom. Just let me. Please,” her hands shook, fisted up in my shirt and her hips trying to sway so softly I wouldn’t notice.

She was hurting the same way I was. It was taking every ounce of me to stay strong and say no. I didn’t wanna push shit under the rug, not about this.

Her hands snuck under my shirt, trailing up my abs and her back curved just enough to outline everything I wanted to see in the dark.

“Is that what you want? You want me to lay here and be a good fucking dildo? I was going to ask you to marry me. You can’t fix that with your greedy fucking pussy.” I leaned back taking off my shirt and adjusting myself in my boxers for her to reach in and take me out. I was going to force her to take what she wanted and I wasn’t about to make it easy.

“I want you to stop caring about the past when I’m right here on top of you. I want the easy part to stay easy. I wanna be your wife. Blaine was a fucking back up plan and when I couldn’t tell you I knew I couldn’t go through with it.”

My hand reached up into her hair, pulled her head back, and watching her nipples perk through my shirt. “How did he ask? How many times did you fuck him and lie about it?”

“He asked in bed after I let him fuck me. How romantic, right?” She flicked a thin tear drop off her cheek with her finger before rolling her hips just enough forward to collide with my semi hard dick.

“I hate you for saying yes to him… I could have killed him. I want all the ways my cock ruined you to ruin you for everyone else. I want my name on your ass and my name carved into your heart to fucking matter. How many more ways do I have to make you mine?” Pushing her down on the bed I slipped between her legs and my palms held her hands above her head. “When are you going to be just mine?”

Pressing my crotch into her lace panties I felt the urge to bury this fucking fight creep up my spine. I wanted to fuck her until she cried my name and begged me to stop. I wanted to coat her greedy pussy in me and call her damaged goods.

Pulling my shirt off with one hand I watched her hips try to hump nothing. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you. Everything else was a distraction.” Her mouth kissed up my abs, my chest, until she trailed kisses up my jaw too. “Always been yours. Even when I wasn’t.”

Her hand dipped below the band of my boxer briefs as we kneeled so closely I felt poisoned.

Working her hand up and down I nearly folded over when I fell to the bed just for her to follow. Pulling down the band enough for me to bounce out I watched her bit her lip at what she did to me.

“You see what you do to me?” Dragging my hand down myself I watched her sit back on her heels like she was about to worship.

Her lips parted and I heard how her doctor spoke to us like love sick teenagers who would needed to slow down. “Fuck, you aren’t cleared. We can’t baby.”

Her hand on my chest she leaned into me, “We’ll use a condom or whatever. You leave tomorrow.”

“We can’t, mi amore. She said we can cause more damage. I need a cold shower. Fuck.” I groaned the last of my words before pushing to the edge of the bed with my feet back on solid ground.

“Dom,” her expression collapsed like I rejected her for fun. “You can’t be serious.”

Leaning against the doorframe I watched her sitting back on her heels with her legs just open enough to make you wonder how wet she truly was. “We’ve gone this long. A few more days won’t kill us.”

“Might not kill you. You’re leaving, again. And for how long this time?” Her fingers kept pulling the sides of her thong trying to get her hips under control.

I could practically taste how aroused she was on my tongue. She was killing me but if I took any steps to close the gap between us I couldn’t be responsible for fucking her senseless.

“A week. Max. I’ll be back as much as I can.” My hand skated down myself and I squeezed my own length trying to find any kind of relief.

“I wanna come with you. She didn’t say I couldn’t travel… I don’t wanna be home missing you. Wouldn’t anyone on the roster die for a girlfriend who legit has nothing keeping them from going with them?”

My thumb brushed my nose thinking of excuses to hand feed her. “Do you know how much harder it’s going to be to not fuck? You aren’t cleared for a reason.”

I watched her lay back against our pillows defeated, pulling her panties down and shimmying out of them. Her back arched and her head went back in this silent whimper I could almost hear while her hands roamed her own body.

I wanted to ask her what she was doing but I didn’t want her to stop. Her bent legs fell apart and I watched her hand disappear between her legs.

Fuck me.

Her soft moans and pants sang to my dick when I squeezed myself again inside my boxer briefs even though it wasn’t helping any.

“Mi amore,” I begged her for something but I didn’t even know what anymore. I wanted to fuck, fight, anything I shouldn’t be doing.

An unmistakeable moan poured for her mouth when I heard my name. She was testing me on purpose and it was working.

Kneeling on the bed I let my hand run down her leg, watching her fingers frantically circle her clit like it was any kind of replacement for me. “You know nothing makes you come like me. It’s pointless to try…”

I could see her face flush with frustration knowing I was right. Nothing was going to be me, not even her own hand.

She was going to have to suffer just like me.

[sirensvcubus]

Daryl x reader

Enemies to lovers

Smut

Takes pleace when Daryl was held captive and tortured by Negan, and later in Alexandria

Warnings: forced marriage, mentioned killing, captivity, implied torture, smut

This was written very sloppy but rest assured theres smut lol and sum parts r cringy but thats fanfic 4 u

———————————————————————

I had nothing against Daryl Dixon or his group I would have joined them much sooner if I could’ve, but Negan’s offer came first.

I was all alone out there no one to talk to nothing to eat when the saviors found me and brought me to negan, he told me i could be his wife or I could be on the front lines fighting for him. I fought for the saviors killed over and over again until I became desensitized to it. I couldn’t take it anymore and took up his offer to be his fake wife. I wanted him to grow on me but he didnt I only hated him more and more each day.

He knew I loathed him and he would take it out on me or the other wives. I would wander down the halls crying when i heard my cries eco back to me but it wasnt me. Thats when I first met Daryl Dixon. We talked about our lives, where things went wrong and what led us to crying in a lonely hallway or a dark room. I would bring him extra food and tell the guards to turn down the music because it was giving me a headache. Any time I was lonely or sad I would go to talk by his door.

He always talked about escaping but I knew if Negan caught me he would make me pay. But one day he yelled and he screamed after catching one of the wives cheating and after what he did I knew I had to get out of there and fast. I changed into jeans and long sleeve shirt got a gun and my machetes with a pack of food water and a map. Then i thought back to why I agreed to go with Negan in the first place. Where was I gonna go? Faced with the back exit and a long gloomy hall leading to another gloomy hall that contained Daryl, I chose the hall. You grabbed some clothes from a near by room and headed his way. I turned down the music and knocked twice like how I always do.

“You said you have a group right a good one nice fair people.”

There was a silence then he growled “yes”

You picked the lock with your bobby pin, a skill that always came in handy in the apocalypse.

You took a deep breath and opened the door he lunged at you pushing you against the wall with his hands around your throat. You had never seen him and only now released how strong he was. You let out a tear and he loosened his grip

“Please I cant, I cant do this anymore” you broke down.

He let go he grabbed the clothes, putting them on quickly. You faced the wall shaking your leg anxiously.

“Come on” you grabbed his hand leading him to the exit.

4 months later…

His group took me in after some convincing and I even got close with some of them. I felt safe in the first time in a long time. But Daryl and I only got more distant. I missed our little talks. But we both got more mad at each-other as time went on he resented me and i hated him for it. But everything changed one night. This night.

I knocked twice on his door

I waited out in the rain getting soaked from head to toe.

He took his time and slowly opened the door

“Why do you hate me.” I said desperately rain pooling down my face

“Get in here” he pulled you by your arm inside out of the cold rain

“Girl what the hell are you doing out there,its too cold, you got a death wish r sum”

“I have been through so much. Getting my ass kicked, forced to marry a monster, watching my friends die….my family. But I have never felt more alone surrounded by people who care about me because none of them were you.” You said.

He looked away from you thinking.

“Why” you said

“I don’t hate you, every time i look at you…….. I just remember that place …Negan , and I wouldn’t care except then I think of what he would do to me if he knew.” He said standing so close I could feel his warm breath on my neck.

“Knew what..” you trembled.

“The things I wanna do to you.” He whispered low in his rough accent.

You gulped “tell me”

“I have a better idea” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. It was slow at first getting faster and faster biting your lip occasionally pulling away to look at you. His hands fell from your face and glided down to your hips squeezing tightly when he got to his destination. it hurt a little bit but pulled a small moan out of you and your hole body vibrated as he pressed himself against you. His warmth radiated throughout you. Your breath quickened and he started letting out small grunts. You scrunched his hair in your fists as you made out more violently. He started kissing your neck giving small bits as he slid one of his hands down your jeans touching you lightly teasing you. You let out a begging moan. But he retracted his hand and pulled you by your waist over to the kitchen propping you up on the counter. He lifted you so easily without any strain, it made you sigh in his ear which teased out a big grunt. You chuckled a little pleased with yourself. He lashed back by grabbing you by your neck pressing you down on the cold counter as he went down on you.

“I thought you didn’t want me cold.”

“Lets get you really hot then.” He replied

He lifted you so you were sitting on his shoulders as he continued on you. You reached out only to find the ceiling to hold onto before you were dropped onto the bed.

In the morning you found him sitting up shirtless holding a cup of coffee. You were rapped up in the sheets you clothes spread throughout the house.

“Huuuuuu where did you get that.”

“My secret stash.” He smiled

The peace was suddenly cut short with heavy nocking.

“Ooooo boy, open up lovebirds I’ve missed you both”

Negan.

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 41-50: Everyone is Michael

Hello people, welcome back to the beginning of TMA season 2! Ten more chapters are waiting and I am ready to find out if this season is gonna start with a bang or not.

I have high expectations.

<< Main Masterlist < Previous post 

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MAG 40.1 - Season 2 Trailer

Oh, a trailer! And it was… absolutely incomprehensible and cryptic af. All I got is that a trapdoor should’ve been locked, which translated from author-to-reader means: “The trapdoor is open and some weird supernatural shit will come out of it during the season”.

Well played, Mr. Sims. Now I really want to know more.

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MAG 41 - Too Deep

Ooooh, statement of Jonathan Sims? And it’s about the recently discovered tunnels! I love that we start season 2 directly from where we left in season 1: Jon is recovering, Jane Prentiss is recently dead (I suppose they burned her, considering the ashes) and there are a shit ton of tunnels to explore.

Also, Jon is now paranoid. Great, that’s exactly what he needed.

Jokes aside, this is an amazing choice from a writing perspective, because it’s perfectly justifiable. Jon got assaulted by Jane Prentiss and her worms on July 29th, now it’s September 2nd. It’s been a little more than one month, of course he’s still haunted by the idea that Jane (or other things) might be alive and spying on him.

Even if the feeling of being watched is not just paranoia. I bet everything that it’s Big Brother’s fault for that.

And just to confirm my words, it seems that the Archives have been built on part of this ex Millbank prison, which was built by following the idea of the Panopticon. You know, the prison centered around the idea of making the prisoners feel like they’re always watched, thanks to the central tower.

I love the idea of the Panopticon: it’s extremely cool and I’m very happy to see it here too… but it also proves I am right and Big Brother is some supernatural shit who watches everyone and has something like one million eyes or whatever.

The goddamn weird tunnels. And what about that incorporeal voice telling Jon to leave, right after inviting him to go down? I am extremely curious now, I want to know more! Who was it? Big Brother? Another supernatural shit?

Ah, so Jon will now add supplements to the statements, hide them from his staff just like he hid the existence of the second tape recorder and will put these parts away with precise instructions for his replacement, in case he dies. Great, so he’s this paranoid. Basically one step away from being pathological.

Fine, from one side, I can understand him because he faced some heavy shit not too long ago and he cannot trust anyone. So his sentence “Trust can get you killed” is understandable.

But I also watched Gravity Falls and I’ve learned that “trust no one” doesn’t help, especially if there is a demon watching/haunting you. So please, Jon: please. Be safe. Don’t pull a Dipper Pines on us. Don’t force me to start calling you Jon Dipper. Or Jipper.

And trust someone before some bad shit happens. You’re trying to find Gertrude Robinson’s killer and we all know it was Elias (don’t “first suspect” me and yourself, we both know it was him). So, since Elias already killed one person and he’s in cahoots with the Lukas family, you REALLY need as many allies as possible.

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MAG 42 - Grifter’s Bone

Here we are, back with simple, meh statements. This time, it’s “weird supernatural band kills with their weird supernatural music”. It’s a shame we don’t see how they do it, I would’ve loved to see the whole process. But I also understand that leaving this to the reader’s imagination is a good choice to make something scary.

Also, Alfred Grifter looking up after the massacre and asking “Encore?” is probably the most badass move of the series until now. He might be some minor supernatural shit, but that was a real power move. I respect him a little bit after this.

Glad to notice Jon’s skepticism is back too, but after the end of season 1, now I know why he does it and I understand. Also, his skepticism doesn’t seem as “stubborn” as before and that’s another great writing choice because it shows how all these supernatural shits are affecting him.

Also, since Jon is in Paranoia Land now, I suppose that emphasizing skepticism helps him hide his true intentions, which are… sigh, controlling Martin. Seriously, can this poor guy take a vacation? First the worms, then Jane Prentiss, now Jipper. Martin can’t even be competent, that his boss will question it - all while insulting his poetic skills. The paranoia made Jon even more of an asshole than before.

What? Martin is worried about the others finding out he’s been lying? Lying about what? Jane Prentiss? His supposed incompetence? His poetic skills? His need to go on vacation? In any of these cases, don’t worry, Martin: just take your stuff and go as far away from this Institute as possible.

I still dream something like this for Martin.

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MAG 43 - Section 31

I feel Basira will be a recurring character from now on. I mean, she is currently working on Gertrude’s case and she is a Section 31 - i.e. she dealt with supernatural shits before. But she’s not the only one: we also have Alice “Daisy” Tonner, who came in contact with “spider husks” and, for me, that means one thing only: “Spider Mom & gang”. So I bet these two women will probably be involved again with any other supernatural shit happening in this Institute.

It was also very cool to find out the name of the guy from MAG 12: Diego Molina. And I remember that, when he and Gerard were brought to the hospital, Gerard asked if Diego had “a small book bound in red leather and a brass pendant with an eye design”. The eye pendant is probably related to Big Brother, while the red book basically confirmed it was one of Leitner’s chaos books. I already suspected this considering Gerard was after that, but glad to see an implicit confirmation.

Speaking of the supplement, Jon gained access to the tapes in Gertrude’s room and I’m glad about that because we will surely find something cool and scary. But I’m also sure that’s the easiest way for Jon to get himself killed, so I’m a bit scared for his life.

Also, how weirdly cute is this part?

“I only ever spoke to Gertrude once or twice during her time as archivist. I-I was very new. I don’t remember what her voice sounded like.”

Jon sounds so young, here. Almost like a child. I mean, I imagined he was in his thirties or something, but I actually have no idea how old is he. Is he younger? How old is he?

Also, it’s just nice to see this little moment of him being so… soft and human, with his predecessor. He barely knew her, he barely spoke to her, he probably looked at her and saw just an older, stern figure. But now, he’s in the same position. They became a lot closer than they ever were. It’s fascinating - and there’s a lot of potential for angst too, so I’ll brace myself for it.

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MAG 44 - Tightrope

A statement recorded by Gertrude! it was such a pleasant surprise to finally hear her voice! And she sounds amazing <3

As soon as I heard it was a statement from a guy in Algasovo, I felt it was connected to something I already knew. I remembered there was a circus mentioned in season 1 and, after a little bit of research, I found it: MAG 24, Цирк другого: the Circus of the Other. Ringmaster Gregor Osinov and organist Nikolai Denikin - whose granddaughter recorded the abovementioned statement.

Sure, here it’s called Другой Цирк, which is correctly translated as “Another Circus”. So my question is: which is correct? Did the circus change its name? MAG 44 is from the 70s, while the photo mentioned in MAG 24 was from 1948. Maybe the circus was called Цирк другого, then it changed its name after Denikin left and became Другой Цирк. Anyway, it was very interesting to read and I was so sure it was the smae circus mentioned before (despite the different names). So when Jon mentioned Gregor Osinov, my smile grew bigger than ever :D

Speaking of Jon, he asks some very interesting questions: Gertrude knows a lot more than it seems. And she didn’t finish recording everything in the archive. Why? Was that her way to oppose Big Brother/the Lukas family/the “crimson curse”? Maybe Big Brother can “eat” these statements, so by stopping her recordings, Gertrude was voluntarily leaving it hungry, as a sort of “fuck you, I won’t get eaten by you” kind of thing.

Or maybe she just wanted to not do her job anymore, thus provoking the Lukas family to fire her for not doing anything. Or maybe she was just too busy trying to find a way to escape, to record statements like an insane you-know-who who keeps recording stuff because he wants to find out the truth even if the truth can get him killed.

Did someone find Jon’s tapes? Or is he in full Jipper mode and maybe the drawer wasn’t even ajar? In any case, now he’s hiding them too, which reminds me of Gertrude and her secret hidden library and I don’t like the parallel at all. I don’t want to see Jon dead on a chair, in a room, surrounded by his secret library.

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MAG 45 - Blood Bag

Another meh statement, even if this time I’m quite perplexed by the weird turn of events.

I mean, once Dr. Thompson sold his syringe, there was a sudden spike in heat, the ‘haemoglobish’ became real blood and the mosquitoes decided to wait for their moment to kill the doctor. They’re a lot of weird consequences and they don’t seem too connected either - especially the heat. Why is there always some heat involved?

While speaking of the mosquitoes planning revenge… yes, this is the most plausible thing. These little bitches always plan revenge on everyone.

So, the doctor’s buyer is “Indonesian, I think, or Samoan”. It’s Salesa, isn’t it? Yep, Jon confirms it. Well, I suppose he will be another recurring character. And if Gerard can smell Leitner’s book, Salesa can smell any supernatural shit and make a profit from it. In this case, I suppose the syringe was a real lucky charm or whatever, considering how everything degenerated once the doctor got rid of it.

“Can’t stand mosquitoes. Horrible things.”

You and me, Jon. You and me. Glad to know that, even if he’s in full Jipper mode, he can still be very relatable.

I know Jon was super paranoid with Martin, but he might have a point about Tim. I mean, a guy with this resume decides to work in a place that isn’t so appreciated by normal people? And he doesn’t seem too interested in the supernatural either. Why is he here, to bribe people to get info and do whatever the fuck he wants? If that’s the reason… honestly, mood. I loved him before, I would just appreciate him even more for the power move.

Jonathan Sims, Master at Hiding Things, gets caught by Martin in 0.2 seconds because he’s so clever to record his paranoid thoughts in the middle of a working day, in a place where everyone can enter. A genius.

But now I’m curious to know where he will go to record these statements. I can almost see him, all crammed up into a closet, while Martin searches for him with a cup of tea in his hand.

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MAG 46 - Literary Heights

Oh gosh, I LOVE this chapter.

First of all, as soon as Michael Crew was mentioned, I immediately checked the previous chapters and here he was: MAG 17, the Boneturner’s Tale. Also, if my last theory is correct, Michael Crew and Supernatural Micheal are the same thing. And you know what? I think this statement confirmed it. But one thing at a time.

Second: my man Leitner! Ex Altiora my beloved! We finally know where it was and what it is! It’s a poem and I ADORE the plot. It’s such a perfect mix of weird, suspense and desperation… uuuurgh, I’m so mad I can’t read it, because this plot can be developed into a fantastic story.

And now, let’s put together all the pieces we have:

Michael Crew is interested in the Leitner.

Michael Crew has “a branching pattern of white scar tissue” on himself.

Jon reminds us that, in MAG 4, Mr. Swain said there was a “woodcut of the dark night sky, with the branching, arching design of the Lichtenberg figure” inside Ex Altiora.

This drawing isn’t mentioned by Mr. Knox here.

Lichtenberg figures have a branched shape, similar to the shape of lightning discharges, and appear on the surface/inside insulating materials during dielectric rupture. But they can also appear on lightning victims.

They are also “natural phenomena which exhibit fractal properties”.

In MAG 4, Mr. Swain says Michael Crew got struck by lightning when they were kids.

Michael Crew is surrounded by smells associated with lightning and electric discharges.

Michael Crew has been followed by a tall, thin figure, “its limbs angular and branching”.

Supernatural Michael has angular and branching limbs.

Supernatural Michael Is associated with fractals too.

The figure also “crackled and fizzed, lit by a strobing white light, as though the lightning was within the room itself”.

When Michael Crew reaches the bell tower, the prays something with the words “altiora,” “vertigo,” and “the vast”. then he says “I’m yours”, leaps through the open window and disappears.

Now, here’s my explanation:

Micheal Crew was followed by a supernatural shit. This supernatural shit was the same immense figure mentioned in the poem of Ex Altiora.

Micheal probably came into contact with it when he was a child and got struck by the lightning. Since then, he started to resonate with Vertigo/the Vast just like Jane Prentiss started to resonate with the Hive.

(Also, since Jane Prentiss’ supernatural shit was “the hive”, I think I’ll call this one “the vast” because it was a bit odd that he specifically said “the vast” with a definite article)

So, since Michael Crew came into contact with the Vast and started to resonate with it, he was accompanied by smells associated with lightning/electric discharges and he started to search for all kinds of magic books, trying to find a way to properly connect with it/being consumed by it, just like Jane Prentiss did with the Hive.

In Prentiss’ case, she connected through the wasps’ nest and got “consumed” by the Hive. Michael Crew tried to do the same by using different methods mentioned in the books, but failed. He had to find something stronger to connect to the Vast. And that something turned out to be a tale featuring the Vast itself, told by my man Leitner.

So Michael got it and waited for a storm. And as soon as the storm came, he ran towards it, calling for the Vast. And when the Vast appeared, it looked like that figure similar to an actual lightning.

Michael sang/prayed for it (please notice how Mr. Knows refers to his words like a chant first and a prayer later, just like Jane Prentiss talked about the song of the Hive. These little shits truly talk through songs) and closed his invocation, by saying “I’m yours”, which can be also read as “I give my body to you”.

And so, he jumped. And by doing that, he gave his body to the Vast and the Vast became him. And that turned him into Michael the Supernatural Shit, also known as Best Boyo of this series.

If all of this is true, then:

it’s very cool

his name isn’t Mr. Distortion, but Mr. Vast. Still cool, but Best Boyo is better :P

And if this is true, that also means my previous Leitner theory was completely wrong. His books don’t turn you into the protagonist: his books are about the real, actual supernatural shits living in this world and by getting the right one, it’s easier to connect to the supernatural shit in question. They’re like… facilitators, in a way.

That also puts into question Gerard’s work. What is he actually doing, by searching and destroying all Leitner’s books? Maybe he’s saving the world, because without books it’s more difficult to connect to these supernatural shits. But destroying the books doesn’t mean getting rid of the supernatural shits themselves and these books might actually be useful to recognize all supernatural shits and “catalog” them. I don’t know, I need more info about these two guys and what they’re actually doing.

And yes, there’s also Spider Mom taking possession of the hidden tunnels of the institute and she’s probably the one who opens the door and maybe she even walks around in her human form and that’s very cool too. Just… how fricking cool is this statement?! I think it’s among my top favorites, along with MAG 2, MAG 5, MAG 20, MAG 26 and MAG 39.

(Now that I think about it, I should probably do a top of my favorite statements once I finish the whole series. It would be fun.)

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MAG 47 - The New Door

Holy shit. Just holy shit.

I thought this was just a simple statement. A statement featuring a tall blonde guy. And yes, I was 200% sure it was Michael. But I just though he appeared and did some weird supernatural shit.

For a while, he did it: he made a door in that house, Mrs. Richardson got lost inside it for three days and escaped just because one of the mirrors was “empty” and didn’t reflect Michael. So she did what everyone who met a supernatural shit did: she went to the Institute. My theory about “hiding behind a bigger predator” seems even more convincing.

I loved the little moment when Mrs. Richardson asked Jon if he believed her and Jon admitted that yes, he believes her. It’s a tiny exchange of words, but it’s enough to show the massive change in Jon from season 1. Before, he would’ve been more stern and showed more skepticism (fake or real whatsoever). But now, after all he went through, he’s showing a softer, more empathetic side. Jon is truly evolving as a character.

And speaking of characters, time to talk about the real shit and time to overanalyze everything:

*

Michael’s voice is perfect

First of all, I ADORE Michael. Sorry Tim, you deserve the world, but Michael’s soft laughs and the way he gently mocks Jon because he’s this powerful supernatural shit while Jon is just a mere human it’s just too adorable. His voice is too adorable. And the distortion effect makes him very creepy - but still extremely adorable. I love him so much.

*

Domains?

This part about domains is very fascinating and, in a way, it confirms my theory about the supernatural shits having territories like mafia bosses.

But it seems like they don’t simply take a place and own it. It’s a bit like they are these places. As if these domains are an appendix of them. So I suppose Michael doesn’t simply “make doors pop up”: he is the doors and the corridors. such a cool concept, it makes these supernatural shits look even more eldritch and… well, supernatural. Love it.

But also: if my theory about Big Brother is correct, does that mean Big Brother isn’t just hidden in the Magnus Institute, but is the Institute? Mmmh, I need more details.

It’s also very interesting how Michael refers to Mrs. Richardson as “the Wanderer”. Since it doesn’t seem like Mrs. Richardson is a supernatural shit, I suppose that “the Wanderer” is a name to identify the people who enter the domain of a supernatural shit and become food. But since calling them “food” isn’t nice, Michael (and maybe other supernatural shits) opted for a more sophisticated name, like “the Wanderer”.

Also, Michael reconfirms he’s a poet and I love him so much.

*

The concept of identity (and maybe my theory already failed?)

That’s another interesting part. Michael considers itself a “what”, because “it requires a degree of identity I can’t ever retain”. And this connects to its domain: since it’s so huge and can “overlap” reality by creating new spaces inside it (inanimate spaces), it was probably easier for Michael to identify itself as a “what” rather than a “who”.

But this distorted appearance made me think: wait, probably my brand new theory about Michael as Mr. Vast is completely wrong.

If Michael’s power is being distorted and making weirdly long, distorted corridors (that confirms Michael was probably the voice who told Jon to leave, when he explored the tunnels in MAG 41), that doesn’t line up with the previous statement, where the Vast’s power was related to lightning and to being this colossal figure.

At the same time, Michael laughs with a weird, distorted effect as if it’s more people in one figure and this detail seems coherent with my theory.

So I think there are two possible solutions now:

my theory is correct and Michael can both be hugely vast and very distorted

my theory is wrong and Michael Crew just offered himself to another supernatural shit

Or maybe the correct option is:

3. Mr. Sims is the biggest troll of all mankind and he made a series in which every supernatural shit is named Michael and this explains why everyone is named Michael and why Michael is such a familiar name. If this is true I would respect him even more.

Jokes aside, I really need more information now. Especially I need Michael (this one at least) to talk about itself and its powers. And maybe all other Michaels should talk a bit about themselves too. At least enough to confirm if my theory is right or wrong.

*

A war?!

No, wait, you cannot drop this bomb, tease us like this, then leave. Stay here and explain!

Okay, so the Institute is important. It should stay where it is, because losing it would bring imbalance in the hidden war that’s going on - between supernatural shits, I suppose.

In MAG 41, Jon said the Archives stand on an ex-prison, built around the concept of the Panopticon. This could explain why this place is needed: a place from where you can spy on everything and everyone is a great leverage in a war.

My question is: what are the sides of this war? I suppose that one side is Big Brother and maybe the weird supernatural fog of the Lukas family, but the other? The supernatural meat? And the spider gang? On which side was Jane Prentiss with the Hive?

And what are they all fighting for? To take over the world? To eat as many humans as possible? Or maybe the “All Michael theory” is correct and since all these shits are named Michael, they decided that the last one standing will officially take the name Michael and all others will have to choose another name? All while Best Boyo Michael decided “fuck this shit, I’ll keep this name anyway because it’s just a name and my identity is more than this”?

You know what? I love the All Michael Theory. It’s stupid and yet it somehow works. If it’s true, it would immediately turn the whole series from dramatic to comic, but I love it.

_______________________________

MAG 48 - Lost in the Crowd

Oooh, a statement settled in Italy! Never visited Genoa, but now it deserves a visit. After all, I already think about this goddamn series every time I see a spider and have to kill it, so why not going to Genoa and fearing weird supernatural shits? Apparently, they love to go anywhere. Was this one taking a vacation?

Speaking of vacations: honestly, I never expected to see my man Gerard, rebel punk and goth, chilling in Italy with a bright shirt on. I hope you’re also wearing some nice shorts, Gerard. And no combat boots. Or sandals with socks. The Italian fashion police can be way worse than any supernatural shits.

So, my man went to Mrs. Nunis, told her she was “marked” and told her to think about her mother. To remember her. To, you know, feel less alone. I immediately thought about Naomi and how she too felt alone, when the mysterious fog tried to “eat” her in MAG 13.

But this time there wasn’t really a fog: the sunny day simply became overcast. So maybe the fog isn’t supernatural but… the clouds are? But then, what about the weird fog from MAG 33? Or maybe, the fog simply hides the real supernatural shit, which is this weird faceless crowd. And this time the fog was on vacation too.

Or maybe Italy’s weather is too warm for the thick UK fog, so the fog dispersed and left only the crowd. I’ll admit it, it would be hilariously funny if a supernatural shit is simply an atmospheric element end you can get rid of it by traveling far enough or by using, idk, an electric fan.

So one question remains: what was Gerard doing in Italy? Was he truly searching for a Leitner? Or maybe he was really taking a vacation? I like to think it’s the second one: unlike Jon “Trust No One” Sims and Martin “Self-preservation is overrated” Blackwood, my man Gerard knows when it’s time to get the fuck out and take a vacation. So he left all the supernatural shits and books to chill on a beach, take a cafè and eat some real food.

Great choice, Gerard, Genoa is a beautiful place.

Speaking of the supplement, Jon realized Michael was warning him about Sasha! But unfortunately, thanks to Not!Sasha’s evil powers, Jon cannot understand what the problem with her is. Damn you, evil imposter! Give Sasha back!

Jon “Jipper” Sims, Master of Secrecy, after being caught by Martin in 0.2 seconds, got caught both by Martin and Tim again and they both immediately realized Jon was spying on them. So they reported him to Elias.

See? See where “trust no one” brings you, Jon? Please, stop spying on them like a creep. why don’t you start spying Elias, instead? He’s the most suspicious guy that ever walked on this planet, why the fuck are you wasting time with your team when you have him?

_______________________________

MAG 49 - The Butcher’s Window

I read the title and I immediately was: “The meat is back, isn’t it?”

But it’s not just the meat, it’s our old friend Jared! And he does incredibly weird creepy things! And I like them, because they’re creepy without being gorey. You know, it’s just too easy to use gore: scaring without gore is harder and I appreciate it.

Also, what the fuck is the weird… underground superleech he’s feeding? Is that the boneturner? Is this the name of this supernatural shit? After all, every supernatural shit seems to have a name that starts with the definite article: the hive, the vast, the boneturner.

And if we add up all the things we discovered until now, that means that Jared became the Boneturner/the body of the Boneturner thanks to the Leitner’s book that “facilitated” the connection and, since he became that thing, that thing also became him. So the underground creepy superleech is still part of him and by feeding it, he’s feeding himself too.

You know, the whole process of feeding it was creepy, fine, but it made me smile too because… come on, it looks like a guy throwing snacks at his dog. That’s funny.

But not as funny as the mental image of this weird superleech I got, that resembles something like this:

This is a sea lamprey. It’s not a leech, but it’s the closest animal to represent what I imagined. And yes, this is a real living creature on this planet. You’re welcome, glad to know this will haunt your dreams too.

A-ah! We finally got more info about Elias! I knew it was weird that he managed to go from filing clerk to head of the Institute, but I had no idea he became head of the Institute just in five goddamn years. What did he do, did he kill everyone else? Did he kill James Wright too? Did this man also “die on the job” as Gertrude?

Also, how absolutely, insanely funny is it to think that Elias was a pothead? I read it and I was like… what? This guy?! I always imagined him like a posh guy and now you tell me he was smoking crack or whatever? That’s too funny, I love that and it would be hilarious if that’s the reason why he killed everyone else: not because of the Lukas family, not because of the supernatural shits: just because he wants to hide his past.

_______________________________

MAG 50 - Foundations

Oooh, another old statement addressed to Jonah Magnus! I suppose that’s how the Institute started: with this guy walking back and forth inside his house, surrounded by creepy stories. A bit like Jon now. And nope, I don’t like this parallel.

The story itself is very meh. It’s not really creepy nor scary, just “mysterious guy appears outside an office” and “fingers on a stone uuuh”.

This statement probably served to remind us about Robert Smirke’s existence. Jon probably forgot, but I remember that in season 1, he said Tim mentioned him an architect he was obsessed with and this architect was Robert Smirke. So I suppose this guy is important.

We also have Sir George Gilbert Scott now. When Mr. Kempthorne said Scott’s projects had odd symmetries and seemed claustrophobic, they reminded me of the underground tunnels of the Institute. Is it possible that one of these guys is responsible for the construction of the ex Millbank prison? I suppose only time will tell.

I died laughing when Tim thought Jon was hitting on Basira. How he went from “That woman is weird” to “Good job boss, get her”. He’s the best, I love him.

_______________________________

In conclusion

Oh my, what a start for season 2! We have more Michaels than ever, too many theories and lots of mysteries I still can’t grasp.

I want more. I want to know more about Michael, I want to find out which theory is correct. Is Michael Crew one of the many identities of Best Boyo Michael? Is Michael vast and distorted or they’re two different Michaels? Is every supernatural shit named Michael? Is Elias just a pothead trying to survive in a world full of supernatural shits? Is Gerard still on holiday?

We’ll meet back soon with ten more chapters.

>> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[rorywritesjunk]

Down in the dark where the waves won’t go, I’m bound to find my way.

Sunny and Buggy disagree over the next steps of their life together leading to them spending time apart.

Rating: PG-13 to be safe for swearing and arguing. Warning: Each chapter will have a specific warning. Epilogue!!! Happy ending!!! AAAA!! Word Count: 2,111 A/N: The direct sequel to "No locked upon land...", the fic that started it all. I do not use "You" in this as now that Sunny is an established OC I decided not to go that route. The ending!! Happy!! Also I'm of the belief that you never remember every person you've ever met in your life. You may cross paths multiple times and not realize it. Hence how I chose to end this. Thank you for reading this! It was fun and painful and great to write!

Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Epilogue Taglist: @hey-august @lostfirefly @ane5e

Epilogue

It was weird sleeping in but Buggy insisted on it the night before. He said he would get the baby up and even make breakfast (she wasn't too sure on that part) but that she deserved to sleep in. The last year had been hard on them, from the fights to their brief separation to Sunny telling Buggy she was pregnant. She never saw him fall to pieces so quickly before until that moment. 

He had been shocked into silence for just a few minutes before he shrieked and rushed to go tell the crew, leaving Sunny behind in the pantry. She could hear the excited cheers from the crew. Apparently they were just as excited as their captain.

“Shh, shh, why are you fussing? You're not supposed to fuss when daddy carries you! It's not flashy!”

She cracked an eye open and looked over towards the door. Buggy held Gold against his chest while carrying a tray of food with his hands out in front of him. The baby was fussy even though Buggy was trying his best to calm him.

“Gold, buddy, come on, Mama's sleeping and you're gonna wake her up.” He huffed softly as he tried his best to soothe him. “I already changed you and you didn't want the mush she made you last night, so what do you want?”

She grinned and burrowed herself under the covers. She'd let him suffer a bit more. He didn't have to carry a baby for 9 months or spend over 30 hours in labor. All he did was cry when the baby was finally born and he finally saw his son with his little fluffy blonde hair and little red nose.

“Goldie, kiddo, you're killing me here.” Buggy whined. Sunny sighed and finally rolled over to face them, only to burst out laughing at the sight of her husband covered in flour, eggs, and she was pretty sure there was some jam in his hair. He glared at her as he set the tray on the bed and passed her the baby. Gold’s eyes lit up and he was happy to snuggle in her arms. She kissed him on the forehead and smiled. 

“You okay there, Buggy?”

“I cooked you breakfast!” He told her. “The skillet was too hot and I burned my fingers, and then the water boiled over when I made your tea. The eggs spilled onto the two of us so I had to change Gold again and then he sneezed as I had a scoop of flour and it got everywhere.”

Sunny distracted herself by looking at the tray of food and tried not to erupt into giggles. The piece of toast seemed to have a little hand print in the jam. She looked back at Buggy as he scooted himself into bed beside her and took a bite of the toast.

“Honey, you have jam in your hair.” She pointed out. He groaned and slumped against her as Gold watched his daddy curiously. “There's a little hand print in the jam…”

“He grabbed my hair at one point.” Buggy whined. “I didn't realize he had sticky fingers! Babe, I just washed my hair!”

She kissed the top of Buggy’s head and smiled. “You're a good dad.”

He lifted his head up just enough to look into her eyes as he pouted at her. Dealing with a sticky baby from time to time was something Buggy still couldn't handle. Everything else? Whatever, he could deal with diapers and spit up, but for some reason anything sticky like jam had Buggy wanting to have a meltdown over it. 

“Can I go wash my hair?” He whined softly.

“Yes, honey.” She told him as he started to get up. “Thank you for breakfast and for getting the baby ready.”

Buggy looked at her funny and shrugged. “I'm his dad, it's my job to look after him.”

“Yea-”

“I don't care what your family thinks should happen. He's my kid, I am going to raise him. It's not all on you, babe.” Buggy told her as he went to look at himself in the mirror. Maybe he didn't need to wash all of his hair, just that section of it. “The idea that I'm babysitting my own kid is shit and if your aunts and uncles say anything then I'll say something back!”

Sunny doubted he would say anything but she wouldn't discourage him. She loved him even more now after seeing him take care of Gold. Buggy almost always had his son in his arms or near him when he was working. The only time Sunny saw the baby was when it was feeding time. 

“I love you, Buggy.” She told him as he tried to wash the sticky jam out of his hair. He looked back at her curiously before grinning widely at her.

“How could you not?” He asked as he winked at her. “I'm the greatest husband and dad in all the sea, babe!”

~*~

He didn't mean to get lost again.

Buggy had only taken a few steps away from the first mate to look at something when a crowd walked by and he was by himself. Where did Rayleigh end up? This was his second time getting separated from the crew on an outing. If Buggy was lost again, he'd get a talking to and won't be allowed to step off the ship ever again. He tried to look around but the first mate was nowhere to be seen.

Buggy tried not to panic but it was a little hard not to. 

He stuck his hand in his pocket, gripping the pretty bracelet he had found a few weeks ago. He didn't quite remember how he found it but it was one of his favorite things. The weight in his pocket was a comforting reminder of what he was striving for in his pirate journey: find as much treasure as possible.

“Are you lost?”

Buggy’s head jerked around to see a girl who looked about his age. She was smiling at him but he wasn't sure why. Was being lost amusing to her?!

“No, I'm not lost!” He insisted as he straightened up. “Why would you just ask someone that?!”

“You just looked lost.” She told him with a shrug. “I'm Sunny, my Mama's right over there. You can stay with us until your mom or dad show up if you want!”

Buggy stared at her. She just… offered to have him stay with her not knowing who he was when he could be some scary, dangerous pirate. He was about to say something to her, call her stupid for that, but a woman walked up, her blonde hair in a ponytail, arms covered in tattoos, startling Buggy into keeping his mouth shut. She looked more like a pirate than someone's mother.

“Sunny, what's going on?”

“He's lost, mama!”

“I-I’m not lost!” Buggy squeaked, not taking his eyes off the pirate. She cocked her head to the side before crouching down in front of him, looking him over curiously. He tried to look like he wasn't nervous but… he was for some reason. His captain was the strongest but this lady looked like she could be just as strong. 

“Oh? Well, you can hang out with us until someone comes looking for you.” She smiled. “I'm Windy. We were about to get a snack. What's your name, honey?”

He couldn't help but stare at her. The way she smiled and called him honey was… familiar and comforting to him for some reason. He glanced at Sunny. She was smiling at him as well and he felt himself relax just a bit. Maybe he could stick around with them until Rayleigh showed up.

“B-Buggy.”

“Buggy? That's a cute name.” Windy said as she smiled at him. “Let's get you kids a snack while we look for your adult, Buggy. How does that sound?”

He shouldn't talk to strangers. The crew told him and Shanks not to, but he did feel safe around these two. He wasn't sure why but they didn't seem to be a threat. There was a familiarity in that smile and how she called him honey, but he couldn't place where. He swallowed heavily and nodded. He could stay with them until he found Rayleigh.

~

To keep him from getting separated from them, Sunny held his hand the entire time. Buggy allowed her, saying nothing as his cheeks burned as they sat on a bench while Windy went to get them both a snack. The little girl looked at him and smiled brightly. He looked away.

“I bet Mister Rayleigh will find you.” She told him. “If not, you can stay with us.”

“I can find my way back to the ship if I have to!” Buggy shot back. “This place is just big, okay?”

Sunny tilted her head to the side and smiled. He hated that she kept doing that. Why were these two being so nice and helpful? Did they want something in return? He huffed softly and looked back at her. She gave his hand a squeeze and looked back at the people milling about the area

Windy came back a few minutes later, handing them both a tasty piece of fruit before standing beside her daughter and keeping an eye out for Rayleigh. She met the first mate once before, back when she was a member of the Cook Pirates, so spotting him wouldn't be too hard.

She glanced at the kids. Sunny was asking Buggy questions about living on a ship, being a pirate, all kinds of things, even asking what was the best treasure he found so far. The boy was answering back, an air of arrogance about him as he talked about rescuing the captain one time from a nasty pirate crew and how he found a treasure chest that was almost bigger than the ship! Sunny’s eyes were sparkling as she listened and Windy was happy to see her daughter making friends with someone. 

The snacks were enjoyed and the kids were chatting when Rayleigh made an appearance. His face was a mix of anger and relief as he crossed his arms and looked at Buggy. The boy straightened up and looked back at him, wondering what the punishment was, but Windy patted him on the head.

“Rayleigh, it’s been a while!” She laughed. “My daughter found your boy and was close to adopting him into our family. Better keep an eye on him or she’ll kidnap him.”

“Maybe he'll learn not to wander off.” Rayleigh grumbled as the kids stood up. “Let's head back, Buggy. Tell them thank you.”

Buggy looked over at Sunny and Windy. The pirate seemed amused while Sunny looked disappointed about him leaving. They just met, they weren't friends or anything, so why was she looking like she wanted to cry? He scratched the back of his head and glanced up at Rayleigh for reassurance. He sighed and looked back at them.

“Thank you for looking after me.”

“Any time, Buggy!” Windy chuckled. “It was nice meeting you. I bet you're going to be a famous pirate someday.”

Buggy puffed out his chest and looked smug about that. Rayleigh put his hand on Buggy’s head and directed him to Sunny. The little girl just gave him a sad smile and waved at him as the boy glanced up at his guardian again. What was he supposed to say to her? He just thanked them! 

“Thank… you for helping me, Sunny?” It was more of a question, but he wasn't sure. Her eyes lit up and her smile got bigger. Buggy forced himself to look away again because he didn't want to look at her any more. She had a pretty smile.

“You're welcome, Buggy!” She replied happily. “I hope we can stay friends!”

He didn't really know how, they wouldn't see each other again, but he just shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets, toying with the bracelet he found for a moment. It was pretty, but he didn't remember how he got it, so maybe… 

He could offload it on her. It wasn't worth anything, he was pretty sure about that, so he pulled out the bracelet and reached for Sunny’s hand. She looked at him curiously as he put it in her hand. He said nothing, stared at her for a moment, then turned and hurried off before Rayleigh turned to follow. Windy just chuckled softly as Sunny looked it over and put the bracelet in her pocket. 

He was kinda weird but Sunny thought he was nice. Maybe she'd see him again.

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

OKAY. so. this is gonna be long lol

Character: Dorian, necromancer wizard/twilight cleric, follower of Tusmjir (goddess of balance)

Revenant

"Whither you, whither you walk my love / (I cannot go there) / I can only see two roads ahead / One brings life / and the other will bring me death / And though I don't know which to tread / I'll walk with you in this life or the next" and "What gives voice to my laments / A revenant of discontent" and "Yet for all my own deceit / I still know not the face I seek" it's just so fitting for Dorian, who made a choice to go back in time and undo using Necromancy in front of his boyfriend, which then resulted in his boyfriend dying in front of him in the "corrected" timeline-- and along with a few other pertinent things around the same time, it leads him down a path where he thinks that using Necromancy is the only way to keep the people he loves safe he also finds out Cassidy's soul is taken by the BBEG (the god of death) and corrupted and turned into the revenant general of the BBEG's armies, and he's so desperate to free Cassidy that he allies with the BBEG to (a) learn more necromancy to get more powerful to keep his loved ones safe, and (b) find a way to free Cassidy's soul as the game progressed, Dorian also became a cleric (before he defected to the BBEG's side) and the whole "two roads, one brings life, one brings death" thing is So Important because Dorian has to make a choice-- does he go for Wish and try to get Cassidy back like that (aka going wizard 17/cleric 3), or does he place his faith in his friends and his goddess (wizard 10/cleric 10) and get Cassidy back through Divine Intervention; basically, if he chooses the Wish route, he destroys his own soul, so the only way for him and Cassidy to have their happy ending is for him to turn back from the call of power also, while he was working for the BBEG, he was doing some heinous stuff and also lying to his loved ones about it, and the reveal was so good (more on that below)

Lay of the Ashes

"You, who isolates yourself within despair / reflecting only poisoned roots and gnarled branches twisting / Allowing vines to wrap your mind and lay it bare / With all your hope abandoned to this fiction you are living / You, who only sees a barren path ahead" and "Could the lies that you believe / be a fear of the unknown / If you don't know who you are / then who is it you hate / All the lies that swallow you whole / Don't even know your name" again, going back to the whole evil arc vs. redemption arc-- Dorian sees everyone else in his group "getting their happy ending" and having connections with others, and he isolates himself in his grief and guilt, creating this sort of tunnelvision and false belief that there is only this one path left before him (pursuing necromancy without regard for the consequences) he tells himself that the ends justify the means-- until he finds out the BBEG is going to kill his mentor/father-figure, which is when he defects back to the good guys (he's actually too late to save Sorrice, and casts his first Revivify to get him back, after which he promptly confesses everything)

Idistaviso

"My brother, what have you done? / You've chosen gold over blood" and "Only now do I see / You are a stranger to me" and "And I will live with the works of my hands / I am well aware of all that I've done and all that I am / I will live with the choices that I've made / Can you say the same / Or will you carry your rеgrets 'til the end of your days?" and "Every poison word they spoke of me / You listened to so eagerly / What is this hate you have for me?" so Dorian's group, the Cardinal Locks, was originally comprised of Kis (bard/rogue/bloodhunter), Kaide (barbarian), and Elijah (cleric) Dorian told everyone he was an evocation wizard, and once Dorian started using necromancy openly, Elijah (cleric to Lathander) was vocally in opposition now, as mentioned, Dorian used necromancy in front of all of them (including Cassidy, a paladin), and was arrested (by Cassidy) and was sentenced to be banished from the continent, at which point he was offered a chance to (tricked into) go back in time and change what happened-- which resulted in Cassidy dying HOWEVER, that meant that only Dorian knew of the changed timeline, and everyone else "forgot" eventually Dorian used necromancy again and the same objections were raised-- except this time, Dorian saved Elijah's boyfriend by casting Gentle Repose on him during a fight and then having the necessary 300g diamond for the Revivify, which Elijah (the cleric!) did not have there were a lot of harsh words said between the two, but essentially, Dorian called out Elijah for not carrying the necessary components for spells only he could cast as a cleric, and effectively blamed Elijah for Cassidy's death since he didn't have a diamond to Revivify Cassidy either (it wouldn't have worked, but the characters didn't know that) shortly thereafter, Elijah and his boyfriend absconded in the middle of the night, leaving the Locks without a (divine) healer and Dorian had to use Life Transference for a while until he became a cleric so this song is about how Elijah and Dorian once considered each other brothers, and their falling out, and how Dorian acknowledges the terrible things he's done but Elijah has never shown remorse for abandoning them and leaving them without a healer

Your Dorian is SO interesting to me, truly a man of many huge 'what if' moments. But also ??? was Revenent written for him bc?? It's literally exactly what you described of him. Like that is a wildly specific song that matches the events that influence everything in his life following losing Cassidy

A character who will go to any lengths to justify their actions, while losing their sense of self, is soooo juicy because like.. If you can't hold conviction in your own actions, what else can you trust or believe in? And yet in the back of their mind, one little weakness or memory that could cause all of that to come crashing down? There's always an Achilles heel and I LOVE that.

Idistaviso !! I really like this one and I added it to my Penhurst playlist, as a lament from his (dead) older brother. A running theme of Love making or breaking someone, how much you're willing to bend your code or put on the line, what one would do to save that Love... AGH!

Your song choices and the explanations/motivations are Spot. On. I understand exactly why you've chosen them. All of the little snippets you've told me about your characters and sessions are so richly crafted, it's a joy to get to know them as an extension of you ❤️

[freeuselandonorris]

https://www.tumblr.com/freeuselandonorris/748045381390204928/httpswwwtumblrcomfreeuselandonorris748039869

im glad to help !! also sry this ask seems rly long now that im rereading it… i have spent an embarrassing amount of time playing these games. what farm type did you pick? it just occurred to me i didn’t ask that before but each one is a lil dif so im interested to know if you went w the standard one or picked a dif one.

totally understand that complaint! i’d recommend using a guide or the wiki for a bit of guidance, i always have the wiki up on my phone. you may alr know but it took me a LONG time to realize it so just in case, heres another lil tip! make sure to check the tv daily. it tells you the next day’s weather and the daily fortune every day, but on sundays, “queen of the sauce” teaches you a new recipe, and wednesdays are reruns. mondays and thursdays play “livin’ off the land” and it gives you tips on gameplay, like where to find certain foragables that are in season and things like that.

fishing is… tricky. i used to hate it but after years it’s fairly easy. it’s just about timing! it gets easier as you practice, upgrade your fishing pole and level up your fishing skill. if you get a training rod from willie’s instead of the bamboo rod, the green bar is larger so it’s a bit easier to get the hang of

so sorry you got laid off but at least u got to play cyberpunk!! i didn’t really know it was based off anything other than the tabletop game, that’s a new rabbit hole for me to go down. pretty much had the same experience, i remember watching the 2013 e3 trailer and being obsessed from the getgo, and then it was unplayable on launch and i was super disappointed. they spent a decade on a game and released it like that? i lost interest until last year, i saw someone on reddit say it was worth playing, so i gave it a try and i was fucking obsessed. played it for hours after work every day. everything u said. it’s so beautiful and realistic.

i played as girl v but i plan on going and replaying as boy v eventually!! i played before phantom liberty was released so i need to buy that and give it a try. the voice acting and visuals are what really make the game for me, i love all the characters you get to know. not many games have characters that feel so realistic but i found myself being weirded out by how lifelike they were sometimes. uncanny valley vibes or something. also, i really liked that npcs had sexualities rather than being player-sexual like so many games are, so depending what gender you pick, you get locked out of certain romance options. loved that. can’t wait to explore the romance options with boy v and see what else changes.

johnny is unreasonably hot. one very minor complaint: of all the people i get to fuck in the game, i can’t fuck my engram? unfair tbh. johnny should be telling v what to do while they get themselves off or something idk. ive somehow never thought to look up cyberpunk fic but i know what i’m doing tonight now.

i don’t remember what my skills were exactly, but i think i had focus on body, reflexes, and intelligence. they’ve overhauled the skill trees since i played, so idk how my game compares, but i used a katana and a shit ton of quickhacks and i didn’t have too much trouble! it’s very fun to run around hacking and slashing. i don’t remember the boss fight at the end of play it safe being too difficult. there were a few cyberpsychos that made me quit the game for the night but that boss fight didn’t take too much out of me. i cant wait to hear what ending you get and what you think of phantom liberty when you get to it !!

nooo don’t apologise this is such good advice tysm!! 💕 i’ve been in the mines and got some good stuff (and a sword!!) and the tv tip is SO good omg. i’m def gonna have a look through the wiki and start actually figuring out a bit of a strategy to how i’m playing instead of just clicking random shit lmao.

i picked the standard farm! i’m kinda curious to try one of the others at some point tho, i was gonna do the spooky one but then i figured i should probably start simple lmao

YES to all that, as cringe as the pov sex scenes are at times i do kinda love the way it’s incorporated into the storylines and the way you can play as queer (i had great fun with the sex workers in jig-jig street when i first started playing lol) — i had an interesting moment a couple of days ago where i had an option to kiss someone of the same sex who gently rejected me, it’s pretty nuanced which is cool!

okay i feel slightly less terrified of that fight now lmao, i’m trying to train myself to rely more on stealth and quickhacking rather than just panicked shooting which sounds like it’s prob the way to go here too so fingers crossed!

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 100, Replies Part 2

1) “Alright McBee, please tell me you’re gonna honor your name.”- More like “McBoom” actually. 2) “…

Alright I didn’t saw that one coming

but also, those Nomus do not look like the people who were calling to them a few panels ago, and they weren’t doing this bullshit stuttered speech, they said a whole sentence without problem”- The perception filter of looking at them from afar contrasted with getting a better look up close. And I’m guessing the stuttering is their last audio command/voice “skipping” a little as the “explode” command overrides all the rest of their functions. 3) “Good going McBee, I’m sure this is gonna work flawlessly”- Explosions have never worked out for failed him yet! 4) “bomber villain cells… you mean, a bomb quirk, right? something that Aizawa can shut down just by looking at

Also, lol at this page trying to be dramatic and making it seem like Jeanist, Edge shot and Tensei, three famous top heroes which we saw a lot in the main series, are just gonna do the opposite of being alive like that

lmao even”- Granted, he probably wasn’t factoring in Aizawa’s anti-Quirk Quirk when they were made, since a power that stops other powers working is so rare as to be one in a million, and thus the potential scenarios wherein it’d be used against the drones in deployment were not high, but yeah, having any other heroes present would have made the stakes higher. At best, they’re going to be mildly stunned by these blasts, if even inconvenienced at all. 5) “There’s… There’s just two of them Azaiwa. And you guys can climb up the building.

They pose pretty much no threat, if they try to run to target innocent people you can just immobilize them from a distance with your scarves.

I’m starting to think McBee did not thought this through.”- If this was all of the drones he had to work with, sure. But unfortunately for Koichi’s side, it seems he brought enough to keep every potential hero interference tied up at once whilst he makes a beeline for the hospital. 6) “Koichi please tell me that you’re trying to hit them with something strong rather than just using “non-lethal” shots”-Still human-shaped, so the mental block against killing people is in place, just in case they’re actually ‘alive’ in there.  7) “Well, maybe if you didn’t used this weak-ass pellets and instead actually shot him with your real power then you could prevent them”- They can’t suicide bomb with a hole through the head!....or maybe they still can, since it’s not really them pulling the trigger. Experimentation is required for a more precise analysis. 8) “Oh thank you Aizawa, finally doing something rational.

…

They are gonna pull some bullshit about how this is not gonna work, right?”- Well, no it works alright….but Aizawa’s got a visualisation limit on the amount of moving exploding targets he can keep locked down, especially since more of them seem to be spawning from the very shadows themselves. 9) “OH? YOUR QUIRK ACTUALLY WORKED? OH MY GOD THAT IS SURPRISING

I WAS SURE THAT BOMBER CELL BULLSHIT WOULD BE SOME ASS-PULL TO AVOID AIZAWA SOLVING EVERYTHING

ALRIGHT, SO McBEE McFUCKED REAL TIME COMPLETELY BY ACCIDENT.”- Well, Aizawa can stop the explosion from happening until he’s safely outside the blast radius, but that means he still has to be occupied with safely detonating each Drone one by one on the streets away from people, leaving Nomura free to make his direct strike on the hospital. Nomura definitely didn’t have Aizawa’s counter in mind when deploying the Drones, but there’s enough flexibility in the situation to keep them viable as a distraction whilst he achieves his real goal. 10) “Oh okay so there’s more of them it seems

a whole lot

McBee how many of those fucking things did AfO gave you to do this shit?”- Probably enough that he wouldn’t be able to fuck things up due to lack of disposable minions to throw at the problem. Although, this is taking into account Nomura’s competence thus far… 11) “alright guys, show us what nomus can do

and I don’t mean talking, expressing delight in causing pain and coming up with combat strategies. Because there’s definitely no way something like that would be possible, right? (: “- Not for another few years, though these drones do be beating the High-Ends out on styling fashion choices at least. 12) “Aizawa don’t start talking about your life, this is the sort of thing someone about to die would start blabbing about. We need to keep the timeline stable, don’t tempt fate.”- Aizawa’s guaranteed to die at a later time against Tomura, so for this fight, he can tempt fate and boggie-dance back and forth over the line of life and death, it won’t affect him none. 13) “OH WE HAVEN’T SEEN THOSE STUDENTS, I SO WANTED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM

THERE’S A TURTLEMAN, A MINER ONE, SOMEONE WEARING A FEDORA ON THE BACK, ON THE RIGHT IT SEEMS LIKE KIRBY AFTER HE ATE SOMEONE”- At least one of these guys look like a pokemon evolution, and now I’m wondering hiw many hero team-ups formed from high-school classmates realising their powers worked well in tandem together? Like, Pokemon trainers aren’t known for their fighting skills directly, but as support options for their pokemons, they’re unparalleled. 14) “AIZAWA JUST TOLD McBEE HIS LACKEYS AIN’T SHIT

BEAUTIFUL

McBEE GOT McFUCKED ONCE AGAIN.”- These guys are literally disposable cannon fodder, so none of them will be a stand-out fighter. The real star of the show is making his move in the long shadows they cast though…. 15) “Oh, now you need his help, right Aizawa? Noooow he isn’t a villain under arrest, huh? Yeah, I deeeeeefinitely didn’t saw that one coming…”- Technically, he’s still under arrest. They’re just trusting him to run over to the police and hand himself into custody whilst they’re tied down with hero duties. It’d be nice if he also filled in the paperwork for them while he’s at it.

16) “But at least I’m once again curious to see how things are gonna unfold, even if that laughable fake-out with the heroes dying was laughable. My god man. You know, if they were original heroes exclusive to Vigilantes I could be at least worried that something could happen to them, but c'mon man, Tensei? really? It’s like trying to make us worry that Phelps is gonna die. which you already did before now that think about it…”- With Tanuma down and in a coma, there’s sadly no disposable police officers Nomura can wreak on his way to Pop, which means her safety is guaranteed so long as Phelps keeps himself between her and her faceless assassin. If he manages to lure Phelps away though…. @thelreads

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Rude Awakening (Regret)

Had that dream again. Wish all those memories would stay behind me where I left them. Don’t need all of that weighing on me during my date. Maybe I’ll pick up a quick afternoon job, take my mind off of it. Forgot to pick up that thermal weave from Vranki, guess I could patch up my armor until the evening – meticulous handiwork always leaves me feeling satisfied, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about ruining all this beauty treatment I spent so many credits on.

Two fifty, too early to start the day. Guess I should head to the refresher and see about getting in my last two REM cycles. Know this room layout well enough to navigate it in the dark by now: stand up, walk left to the foot of the bed, follow the wall to the first door. I’ve always admired the efficiency of these low wealth housing designs, everything connecting to the main room so there’s no space wasted on hallways. Imperial designs could get downright opulent even for standard accommodations.

Relieved, thirty second sonic wash complete – my mouth could use a rinse while I’m up. A healthy body is a honed weapon, even the slightest physical affliction is a spot of rust on a blade or corrosion on a battery terminal. A parched mouth is a distraction, a distraction is a lapse in reaction time, and a lapse in reaction time is lethal. Resolved, now there should be no impairment to my ability to fall back to sleep. A flashbang just went off in the main room.

Whoever threw it isn’t tracking me actively, or they’d have thrown it in here. Vibro-blade cutting through the wooden deadbolt. Figured just being located remotely enough would deter forced entry, but I need to acquire a better lock. The door is still wood, so if I bought a better lock it would be wasted on it, meaning I need to invest in a full steel door after this. Suppose if I’m doing that I should also upgrade to tamper proof shutters. Home ownership is a real hassle.

‘I know you’re in here Tarani. There’s a nice price on your head, enough to kick-start my bounty hunting career for real, and celebrate my first catch with an unforgettable red light weekend.’ An amateur? I figured I’d be facing down a kill squad, what a relief – this guy barely sounds old enough to pilot a speeder. Guess I’m far enough out that the Empire has better things to do than chase me.

‘Come on, don’t make this difficult. All your gear’s in here with me, just come out so I can blast you already.’ His voice is close now, just a little longer. The light of his glowrod’s poking through the door, just cross the threshold – there! Control the blaster, aim it towards the ceiling – wow this really is just a kid, he doesn’t even come up to my chest – swift knee to the groin, followup to the throat. Couple scorch marks on the ceiling, nothing I can’t wash off. Not a bad blaster, might keep this one under my pillow in case this ever happens again.

He’s reaching for the knife, can’t fault him for trying. One shot to the hand should suffice. ‘Aww fuck, that thing wasn’t on stun you bitch!’ Better search him. Just the vibro-knife for weapons, but a lot of survival gear: ration packs, stims, climbing gear, distress flares, emergency battery, repair tools, inflatable tent, water purifying tablets. Commendable preparation for everything but combat – would have made a great field scout. No idea why he picked bounty hunting.

‘Talk. When and where did you accept the bounty?’ ‘Why would I tell you anything?!’ ‘I have to kill you to keep my location safe. If you answer my questions I’ll shoot you in the head, if not I’ll break your limbs and drop you out on the flats for the scavengers.’ Honestly would have preferred a professional just so we can skip this part. ‘Eat shit lady, when my dad finds out about this-’ Ah, that explains it; rich kid looking for some excitement. Oh well. Right arm is as good as anywhere to start: kneel down, rest the elbow over the leg, brace it at the shoulder-

‘Wait! Holy shit you’re really gonna do it. I’ve been tailing you for three months, from two systems back, using my connections to put together the paper trail on the Buckethead In Black – and it finally led me here.’ That’s what they call me? I was prepared for the life of living off the grid, cutting and running at a moment’s notice – but even the boot-camp nicknames were more flattering than that.

‘Were you working with anyone?’ ‘Do you think anyone else would chase such an old lead this long, hell no!’ ‘Then why did you?’ ‘I wanted a bounty with some real wow to it! I figured your charges had been trumped up – the desertion sounded believable, but I’d never even heard of the Purge Corps or the Inquisition until I started digging – so I thought you were just some nobody who got stuck with a bad reputation by a prick with a grudge on the way out! You get sloppy after five years, I put a stun shot or two in your gut, bring you back in, get a nice fat juicy payday and be the talk of the Bounty Hunter’s Guild for a few months, leverage it into some better work.’

‘You mentioned your father, who is he?’ ‘Doubt you’d know him, he’s an Inner Rim corporate bigshot. Wanted to set me up with a nice cushy desk job, I figured the paperwork would kill me faster than this. Stole one of his spare shuttles, got the tracker ripped out so he couldn’t send a goon squad to rain on my fun. He...He won’t come looking.’ This is depressing. Maybe I should scare him so bad he gives up the life, pack up and find somewhere else to settle down for a while. He goes back home, gets a big teary eyed reunion. I never see Brayli again. Damn it. Sorry kid, you picked a dangerous line of work, and made all the worst mistakes.

‘That’s all my questions. Get up.’ ‘Don’t wanna get blood on your floor? Not like this place is nice enough to bother.’ ‘It’s not that. You haven’t done enough wrong to deserve to die face down in the dark, and the suns come up early here. I don’t want to kill you, but I have to – the least I can do is let you see one of the most beautiful things I can think of before I do it.’ I’ve never been good at handling people crying.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I understand. You get the bounty or the bounty gets you, I guess I just figured that only old bounty hunters who couldn’t keep up any more died.’ He’s taking this better than I expected. I guess all the bluster and machismo loses its appeal when you know it won’t make a difference. ‘You got it backwards kid, the hotshots who think they’ll live forever are the ones who go down first.’ ‘Yeah, that makes sense now that you spell it out. I could take you back with me, get you hired as a bodyguard. Six figures.’ ‘I have other commitments here.’ I can’t blame him for trying. It might have worked a week ago. Hard to keep a blaster pointed at someone while getting dressed.

We’re on the highest dune I can see within walking distance, this will have to do. I can see the light creeping up, nothing to do now but wait a few more minutes. ‘You said something about hotshots. Were you ever one?’ ‘No. I was excited to join the corps, but I was excited to learn the standard way to do things. Spent a lot of free time training.’ ‘Yeah, I can tell. Laid me out so fast I was on the floor before I noticed you.’ It’s the one thing I know how to do, I should be good at it.

‘Oh wow, that is pretty. I’ve never really seen a sunrise before, all the skyscrapers just block it out back home. Thanks. I’m ready whenever I guess.’ ‘You can let the heat soak in for a few more minutes.’ My hand is shaking. This is absurd, I’ve done far worse than this to civilians without flinching back in the Corps. I did it because I needed to, without questioning, because it was an order. But nobody’s ordering me this time.

It’s self defense, he tried to kill me. Even if he’s just a kid in over his head running from his old life, just like I did. Killing for credits, just like I did. Realizing all his mistakes too late, just like I am.

I have enough credits to get Brayli out of here, pack up both our lives and start them over somewhere else. Sure I haven’t told her, but I’ll have to eventually, and if she doesn’t react well then we weren’t meant to be, so it’s better for me to rip off that bandage sooner rather than later. ‘Hey, I’ve soaked it all in. Do it before I get a sunburn and ruin it, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ I never knew a hair-trigger could feel so heavy.

[whumpinaheartbeat]

Rest My Little One, For You Are Loved

This fic contains conversations of self harm through neglect and disordered eating, please read with discretion.

In the rush of everything else, there was a problem that nobody had considered. 

In fact, it hadn’t really been a problem because Al’s body was so weak from being held at the Gate of Truth for so long that he spent the first few days sleeping through most of the day, only being able to greet one or two well wishers and maybe being coaxed to try to drink a little water before his consciousness drifted off and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Edward barely left his side of course but Riza was keeping her eye on Ed also, knowing full well just how much he had been through recently. While Ed had been medically cleared with the caveat that he keep his newly reformed arm in a sling until he was strong enough to get the bolts removed, the sling was currently nowhere to be seen as he used both arms to properly retell a story.

Al was sitting upright, he had been gradually regaining his strength too, but there were stacked pillows behind him just in case he needed them. His arms, real flesh arms, were mottled with bruises from all the blood tests and IV’s, the latest of which was already developing around the newest tube that was giving him much needed hydration. 

It had been a few weeks since the Promised Day but Alphonse was still making up for years of depending on Edward’s nutrition and sleep schedule, things that were famously horrendous, so he was no where near being discharged like Ed and Riza had been fully aware of Al’s growing frustration. The joy of simply being alive, of being in his real body, was slowly waning as the reality of years of physical therapy and probably chronic pain and exhaustion was starting to set in.

It was only a matter of time before that frustration overwhelmed the sweet boy, he had already done so well for so long.

Riza should have expected it then, the culminated meltdown that had been brewing for weeks now. Yet when Al yelled so loudly, so suddenly, she found herself reaching for her gun all the same, her mind screaming that she was in danger. Edward had flinched back also, hands already pressed together as if to transmute despite no longer having Alchemy while Roy raised his hand, ready to change the composition of the air.

Roy dropped his hand first, the guilt clear on his face, but Ed rushed to Al first, an apology already on his lips.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Al snapped. 

Ed stilted, his eyes wide, but he kept his distance all the same. 

Riza settled her own racing heart first, forcing herself to stand slowly as to not spook anyone in the room. 

“Colonel,” She said. “I believe that Garcia and Elicia were waiting for you at the cafeteria. How about you take Edward with you?”

“What?” Ed whipped around to her. “No way, I’m gonna stay with Al.”

Riza met his eyes. She offered a smile, trying to convey that Alphonse would be safe with her. Ed clenched and unclenched his fists, warring with himself, until he twisted on his heel and stormed towards the door.

“You coming Colonel Idiot?” Ed demanded.

“I was giving your little legs some time to get ahead.” Roy said tightly, eyes still locked on Al as he made towards the door.

Riza waited for the both of them to disappear down the hallway, their voices still being heard as they bickered, before she twisted towards Alphonse.

The anger had drained from him just as quickly as it had risen up but Riza knew that it was deeper than just annoyance at Ed’s exaggerated story.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Riza asked.

She kept her tone even, non judging but also not giving him a chance to deflect. Al did not look at her, more likely could not look, gaze focused on picking at the threads of the blanket. Riza did not repeat her question, Alphonse had heard her. 

Al would speak when he was ready; he always did. He could be stubborn of course, taking a while before he allowed himself to be vulnerable, but Riza knew that she herself was much the same and if she was being honest she also knew that her stubbornness streak was stronger. 

At least, she had thought it was but maybe the last few weeks and nearly dying more times than she could count had lessened her tolerance for waiting. Maybe she had to be the one to bring it up herself, if only to get Al talking. Riza gave him another few moments to respond but Al just kept messing with the blanket.

“I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

Al jolted, golden eyes at last snapping to her. Like she had suspected, the boy had genuinely believed that he had fooled everyone by simply closing his eyes and giving off the occasional snore. Roy had been fooled totally, at least that’s what Riza chose to believe, out of sheer desperation for everything to be okay. With Edward being as smart as he was he probably knew full well that Al had been faking rest for the last several days but he too was just a kid who wanted to pretend at least for a little while that everything was okay.

Riza did not mind being the one to confront Al, coming from her would be better than coming from a Doctor or somebody else, she only wished that she didn’t have to.

“Sweetheart,” Riza sighed. “You can’t stay awake forever.”

“But…” Al’s voice cracked. He went back to the thread, if only to keep himself focused. “But I was awake. For years.”

“I can’t pretend to know what that was like.” She said. “No one can. But I also can’t pretend to not know that you’re hurting yourself.”

“I’m not hurting myself.” Al said quickly.

“When was the last time you slept? Fully, totally slept and not just passed out from exhaustion?”

Alphonse returned to picking at the thread. 

“Al…”

“I don’t need your pity.” Al snapped. 

The boy ducked his head, tired eyes watering. He mumbled an apology but Riza assured him that it was okay. 

Riza came over, sitting on the edge of the bed. It wouldn’t help accusing him, not when he was probably very much aware of what he was doing. She should appeal to his scientific mind instead.

“You know how the human body works.” Riza said. “What does it need?”

“Nutrients.” He mumbled. “A combination of carbohydrates, fibres, proteins, vitamins and minerals. And water.”

Al shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the IV in his arm. He looked away just as quickly again, looking a little ill. 

“But I can’t tolerate food yet.” He said. “I… I can’t eat Gracia’s pie.”

“Your list.” Riza said. 

Al nodded, his lip trembling. He lent over, nearly overbalancing, but Riza let him do it by himself if only to prove to him that he could. Al’s hand at last found the notebook from his travels but when he tried to lift it, it fell. 

“Fuck!” Al growled. Then, just as quickly, his scowl dropped into pure misery. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s not a word that I have not heard before,” Riza said lightly. “You should have seen Breda when he came back to the office to a bunch of puppies. Now that was impressive.”

“Mom always said not to swear.” Al said. “At least… I think she said that. I don’t really remember.”

“Doesn’t Izumi swear?” Riza asked. 

Alphonse laughed then, a real genuine laugh, and Riza felt her heart soar if only for a moment. 

“Like a sailor.” He said. “But she would always make us train harder if we swore. Something about not needing impolite kids who depend on curses to get their message across. It’s why I like to get creative.”

It was so strange to see Al’s expression change so overtly, the way his lip twitched up into a smile and his golden eyes sparked with the cheekiness of a young teenager. Riza had grown used to Alphonse as a seven foot suit of armour but she had never seen him not as who he really was, she had simply gotten used to reading his body language more than his non-changing expression. 

Al’s shoulders moved just as often as they used to be and Riza found that she liked that familiar gesture.

She leaned down, grabbing the journal from the ground and passing it to Al. He flicked through it, his gaze shifting between excitement and frustration with each page. He had always looked forward to trying all those foods yet even with his real body he was still unable to eat any of them without getting incredibly sick from them. As much as Riza knew he would be frustrated, she could not even imagine what it was actually like for him.

Now that the tension in Al’s shoulders had eased a little again, Riza tried to guide the conversation back to what it was needing to be.

“Okay,” She said. “You have your nutrients through IV’s and feeding tubes but you are working towards real food. What else does a human body need?"

“Appropriate levels of sleep.” Al grumbled.

“Which is?” 

“It’s not like I don’t know that I need sleep.” Alphonse said hotly. “Of course I know I need it.”

Riza stayed silent, giving Al a moment to decide what he wanted to say next. He could deflect, change the topic back to food or even back to curse words or any number of things. But Al wasn’t just physically exhausted, he was emotionally exhausted too.

“I did try.” Al whispered. “At first. But I just kept seeing it.”

“The Gate?” 

Al jolted again, hissing when he pulled at his IV. A hand rushing to his arm, thankfully not having displaced the tube, Alphonse looked right at her.

“How did you know?” He asked, no, demanded.

Riza tried not to balk under his intense stare. She reminded herself that he was easily overwhelmed right now, Al simply could not control his reactions. 

“The Colonel sees it too.” Riza said. 

Al’s face dropped, that look of misery back.

“Of course, he doesn’t want you boys to know but he sees it. Every night.” Riza’s hand raised to her throat. “I do too.”

They lapsed into silence for a long moment, neither one willing to break it.

“I was scared.” Al said at last. “I would have done anything to keep Ed safe but… I was scared. That I was going to die.”

“You were just a boy.” Riza said. “You still are.”

Alphonse shook his head and if Riza could hug him without risking him getting overstimulated again, she would have. Riza settled for resting a hand onto his own, not looking at the page on Apple Pie in his journal. 

“I keep thinking it will take me back.” Al said. “That this has all just been some dream, that I never actually got my real body back.”

“I know that it doesn’t count for much,” Riza said. “But this is real. You are safe. You are loved.”

“It counts for a lot.” Al said. “Coming from you… It’s everything.”

“You know that I’ll always be here for you Alphonse. Whatever you need.” Riza promised him, squeezing his hand tightly.

That look of cheekiness was back, that quirked brow and twitching lip and Riza had to train her own expression to be neutral.

“Including making me get sleep?”

“Absolutely.” Riza said. “If you need a brick, I’m sure there’s space in the Colonel’s budget for it.”

Another laugh. Pure, unadulterated, laughter. Even Al’s laugh was different to what it had been like in the suit yet at the same time it was the exact same. His shoulders still shook, he still tilted his head a little. 

The boy before her was the same as he had ever been. Alphonse simply had a smile now, a smile that Riza would treasure for all eternity. 

When Roy came back a while later, carrying a coffee for his Hawkeye, he found Riza laying down beside Al. The boy curled up against her chest but even if Roy could not see them he knew that Al’s eyes were closed. 

He was asleep, truely asleep, in the first time in who knows when, and Roy could not be prouder.

It was going to take time but maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

[wintergojo]

hahaahah pain. imagine always texting gojo “come back to me” when he goes away on missions and the day he gets sealed you had found out you were pregnant so you texted him “come back to us” but he didn’t see it. the second he gets out of the box he’s looks at his phone only to see your message and all the gears click in his head. he warps to you and slams the front door of your shared house open. youre standing in the kitchen with your baby bump prominently showing after he missed months of your pregnancy already. he walks as fast and carefully as he could to you with tears in his eyes and just drops to his knees clinging to you. all he can utter out is “i’m sorry” over and over and over again. until he finishes with “i’ll always come back to you” while your hands soothe down his rumpled hair.

nooo anon this legit made me so sad T_T how dare u >:( /j

like imagine how playful those “come back to me” texts would be because u know he’ll always do. and then one night on halloween u were in the bathroom taking the pregnancy test and gojo doesn’t know when he suddenly shouts “i’ll head out for a bit. i love you!” then u see the test is positive so u texted him like “i’ll show u something, come back to us” but he never replies nor reads the text then later on u find out that he got locked in the box i mean T_T ur world just shatters & now u have his baby u weren’t sure if u want to keep it

the end of everything (husband!gojo x wife!reader)

tags: manga spoilers, angst with a happy ending, although honestly it wasn't as angsty as i thought it was, a grain of fluff/domesticity, emotional gojo, mentions of pregnancy, death, kissing, geto suguru, fushiguro toji

wc: 2.4k

navi

additional note: we don't know if gojo's ever gonna get unsealed (and tbh i'm losing hope) so when he comes back here i just based it on how many months a very very prominent bump would be lolz. you'd also notice that i didn't put much detail on how gojo got unsealed bc i have no idea how it'd go ✌🤭

when the two of you still weren’t dating and were in some sort of ‘we’re friends and yes we feel something for each other but no we aren’t a couple' relationship, it was gojo’s habit to send you short videos of himself acting like he’s moping around your apartment while muttering your name and chanting “come home” whenever you go on long missions.

there were times when the videos he sent consisted of him in a dark room, your duvet on top of his head (you could tell because of the pattern), two of your scented candles lit beside him on your bed, and a picture frame of a very horrible candid photograph of you he was hugging like you were dead.

it pissed you off and made you miss him at the same time because he looked like an abandoned little puppy. so sometimes you just dragged him along with you or cut the mission short in less than four days to get him to stop (and be with him sooner).

at first, you never really got the reason why he kept doing that when he knew you would come home eventually. but after he told you about the time he fought fushiguro toji and knocked on death's door, you finally understood.

so when he embarked on another long journey of exorcising curses the next day, you started the habit of texting him "come back to me safe" as soon as he got out of the door and he always, always texted you back with “i’ll always do! (ʃƪ˶˘ ﻬ ˘˶)”.

without fail, without exceptions, without inconsistency, however late it was, however early it was, whatever godforsaken time it was at three o’clock in the morning, his response would always be there along with some picture of him doing a peace sign and a pout on his stupid adorable kissable face you just want to bite.

you really should’ve known better than to grow complacent.

it was just a normal night. halloween. he wanted to go out for some dinner but you were too tired to walk at night.

it was a few minutes to seven p.m. so you were standing in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil so you could cook the udon noodles you were going to wrap on the tempura to make the dish look a little halloween-y. behind you was your husband in the form of gojo satoru, lanky but muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

his face was buried on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck as he hummed some tune he heard from a television commercial. you still remember how his soft, glossy lips started ghosting from the back of your ear to your shoulder as he started slowly swaying the both of you to his humming, and how in the middle of that, you suddenly got the urge to urinate so you turned around, tiptoed, and pecked him softly on the mouth before you told him to “watch the noodles, ‘toru. i’m going to the bathroom”.

you still remember how you took the two boxes of pregnancy tests that had been feeling too heavy out of your pockets, and how in the middle of doing your business, gojo knocked on the door and informed you through the wall that a curtain was cast at shibuya.

his voice at that time was still his usual high-pitched, cheery, enthusiastic, unbothered tone; like he was expecting other sorcerers to be able to handle the brewing mess.

you still remember the way he suddenly got silent when you asked if they needed him, and how after exactly 17 seconds later just when you were finishing up, you heard his voice again. that time it was low-pitched, serious, somber, dull; you could tell he received some sort of message that he was holding himself back from telling you.

“i’m being summoned, baby. i’ll see you later. i love you.”

you didn’t even have the time to respond before you felt his presence disappear. he teleported. you knew that meant he was in a hurry.

thinking back, you really should’ve told him to go inside so he saw what you were doing. this may be bold of you to think of, but maybe he wouldn’t have left if you did.

that night, you received the two biggest news of your life.

first, a few minutes after your husband left, you found out that all your suspicions about your missed period, frequent urination, fatigue, and mood swings were right. you were, indeed, pregnant.

at 7:04 p.m., you sent your husband the usual text with a tiny modification.

come back safe to us, toru. i have something to tell you.

you sent a photo.

-.-

second, a few hours after your husband left, you found out that, well, he had been sealed.

on the upside, it finally answered your questions as to why you never heard back from him, why he never read your text, and why he never sent you his usual response.

on the downside, he was now treated as a criminal in the jujutsu society, getting him out of that stupid box would be considered a crime, itadori's sentence was back, japan was in chaos, the world will soon be in chaos, you don't know when he was going to be back, you don't know how he was inside, you don't know if he's safe, you don't know when he would come home, if he would come home.

oh. and you also have his baby who you're going to have to take care of for the rest of your life. alone. possibly.

for the rest of the following days, you were disoriented. how was he feeling? when he found out that the man he had killed, his best friend, his one and only, was back? was he devastated? hurt? shocked? confused?

why didn't you go with him? why didn't you go out of that door for a few seconds to have one last moment with him? hug him? kiss him goodbye? tell him you love him? that he will be the only man you would ever love? that you're so happy he chose you? that you would wait forever until he comes back to you? that you would give anything just so he comes back to both of you?

there's no way you could've known.

those were shoko's words to you when she came to the apartment to check on your well-being two days after the incident. she was worried about not having heard anything from you.

"before he went to the elders, satoru came to school and made me promise to look after you if anything happens."

"so he knew something was going to happen."

"he's very intuitive, after all. so how have you been feeling?"

"oh, you know. the usual feelings when you've been given news that your husband might never come back; devastated, exhausted, grieving,

…pregnant."

a beat, shoko's droopy eyes widen.

"what the hell?"

the doctor's visit was the catalyst for you to decide what your next move would be.

frankly, you had second thoughts about whether you wanted to join the culling game or if you wanted to keep the child. because god knows you can't do both.

but for once, you decided to be selfish.

the fetus in your womb was the most important reminder you would have of your sealed husband that you could hold for years. you were dead set on protecting your baby, even if it meant escaping japan like some wanted criminal and going to another country until everything else settles.

for half a year, you went through the pregnancy all by yourself in some foreign nation where you knew no one. every hour of the day, you messaged your husband, hoping deep inside that one day, the all-familiar 'read' would appear in the conversation signaling the end of your nightmare.

you told him about your morning sickness, mood swings, all your cravings, sleepless nights, hormonal changes, and whenever you feel your child kick.

he seems strong, toru.

that's good, isn't it?

he probably got it from you.

humorously, you never explicitly told him that you were pregnant.

at the start of your third trimester, you decided to go back to japan when you deemed it would be fine to. shoko constantly updated you about everything. the aftermath, who died, who almost died, who survived, how many funerals you missed.

when you were about to board the plane, you sent a text to your husband.

we're about to go back to tokyo.

i can't believe it's been 7 months.

can you, satoru?

i really hope you come back soon.

it's so hard without you.

we miss you so much. i love you.

he loves you too, btw. he just kicked me.

time doesn’t pass inside the prison realm.

gojo had no idea how long he had been trapped, how long he had been sealed. how long his students had to fight without him, to save him.

how many days, months, or years you waited for him.

the moment he got out, everything was fuzzy; his brain couldn’t process anything.

gojo never slept inside the box, but he felt like the fushiguro toji incident all over again when he came face to face with death and was allowed one more chance to live. so he woke up from his coma, learned the reverse cursed technique, and warped to the sorcerer killer for payback.

except this time, what he learned was that the constant vibration in his pocket was your newly sent text messages informing him that you woke up from your nap because—

he kept kicking.

i couldn’t sleep properly.

:(

‘he kept kicking’? are you in danger?

the gears finally started turning inside his head as he began scrolling through the rest of the messages. gojo still couldn’t really make sense of what you talked about in all those thousands of texts, but the newly appeared white bubble did.

you finally read it…

come back to us, satoru.

let’s have the udon the three of us never got to eat.

i love you.

we'll be waiting for you. always.

this time, instead of warping to the man who made the six eyes feel so useless, so powerless, and such a weak person, he goes straight to you. the second person in his life who made gojo satoru feel… satoru. the only woman who he’ll ever love and will manifest his love through a child, an heir.

his footsteps have never felt so heavy in his whole life as he arrived outside your shared home. not even when he came face to face with suguru after a year, not even when “suguru” took half of his head off and showed him that disgusting talking brain.

i wanna go back to that box.

with a deep sigh, he twisted the handle and slammed the door open. he swiftly made his way to the kitchen where he knew you would be.

and then he sees you.

despite his six eyes, every single thing in his surroundings became blurry. everything in his world slowed down, there was ringing in his ears, his heart beats too loudly for his liking, and the bitter taste of bile slowly started making its way through his mouth.

his vision focused wholly on you. only you. his baby, his wife. his wife.

it was déjà vu. as it was the moment before he got sealed.

you were standing in front of the stove, watching the pot of noodles. only this time, you're facing him, you're looking at him, you're smiling and crying.

your stomach was also sticking out waaaaay more than he remembered, and suddenly satoru is bawling as he slowly makes his way to you.

"i'm sorry, baby. i'm so sorry."

you didn't know to whom he was apologizing. or why. it's not his fault. nothing is his fault.

he was kneeling in front of you, arms wrapped around your waist with an ear pressed against your belly. you rake your hand through his unruly alabaster hair. it's amazing. how even after seven months it's still as soft and as lustrous as ever.

you missed him so much.

"did you feel that, 'toru? he seems excited to finally hear his dada's voice."

your husband closed his eyes as more tears streamed out of his eyes. he kept pressing his lips onto different parts of your stomach, his quiet mutters of "i'm sorry" never-ending. your baby responds well to his voice, kicking back every other moment.

your maternity dress had long been drenched with tears and the boiling noodles had long been saggy when gojo finally stood back up, eyes swollen and face red from all the crying. you're sure you appear the same.

and he’s finally looking at you. for the first time since he came home, he takes your face in. your face was a lot chubbier, a lot rounder. and it’s so damn cute. you were sniffing, your cheeks, philtrum, and lips were wet from crying. your eyes were puffy yet behind those orbs, gojo sees a certain glint of warmth he’s seen countless times whenever he’s with you. and it was mixed with a particular yearning he was no stranger to.

then his lips are on yours.

it’s messy and salty and sticky and one of the best kisses you two have ever shared.

your mouths were moving in sync with the same amount of fervor and god. he’s never been this deprived of anything else before.

it’s slow and sensual yet the way he devours your lips is like that of a famished man who was devoid of any food or water for years before he finally saw an oasis, a cornerstone, a life saver.

you return the same amount of passion he’s giving you, slightly swollen hands coming up to rest on his neck.

satoru wishes for the moment to last forever if it wasn’t for his need of oxygen and your need to breathe. he definitely won’t have it if you suddenly collapsed because of him.

he broke the prolonged kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he tightened his hold on your hips and started slowly swaying you side to side.

with the feeling of your warm breath fanning against his mouth and a smile adorning both of your lips, he whispers.

“no matter how long, how far, how absurd, how futile…

i’ll always come back to you.”

ps. i just want to add that the photo reader sent wasn't a pic of the pregnancy test lmao i was thinking it was probably just some kind of selfie showing her face after going to the bathroom

thank you so much for reading!! 😚 interactions & reblogs are appreciated *kith kith*

[maybankxw]

Hello lovely! Can I get a jealous rough public smut with JJ? Maybe in a bar bathroom or outside against a building? They just can’t wait until they get home. 😈🤭

ARE YOU MINE?

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ smoking; language; jealous jj; unprotected and public sex; breeding; ] minors dni!!!

summary:  jj gets jealous and fucks her right against the pub wall

word count: 1.4k

a/n: uhh to clarify they're not really a couple, i think just casually fucking, but they're developing the relationships slowly hehe, thanks for requesting! ive never written a fic this fast, gave me some motivation! her pov!! but a few lines in bold italics are jj's in the beginning, enjoy! xx

links: masterlist / taglist / ask box

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

“Someone is gonna see us.”

“I don’t care.”

I did care. Fuck I was hoping no one was going to walk in on us, I didn’t want anyone to see her like this, naked, turned on and fucked out, I was the only one who got to see her like that. Mine, that’s what she was and god forgive me, I really wanted to smash that guy’s face. 

—

“You’re having a good time? the barman flashed me a smile, sliding another drink towards me, “On the house.”

“Thank you,” I smiled back, accepting the glass and taking a sip, the liquor burning my throat. I felt someone staring at me, so I turned behind carefully looking over my shoulder. JJ and his friends sat in the far back of the bar, taking pints after pints. His face was tight and somewhat angry, jaws gritted as he watched me. I hid a smile, briefly locking my eyes with his, before turning back, finishing my drink and asking for another.

We chatted with a barman guy a little more, nothing serious. He’d asked me what I did for living, how did I end up alone in the bar on a Thursday night and if I could get home safely. It didn’t feel like he was hitting on me, but even if he was, I didn’t care. My main focus was on JJ getting jealous over the picture he was looking at.

“I gotta go, but thank you,” I threw a few bucks on a counter, sliding off the stool, getting up to my feet. To my surprise I was just a bit tipsy, not feeling drunk whatsoever.

I went outside to get some fresh air, snatching a cig out of my purse, lighting it up and drawing on it, blowing a white cloud of smoke, relaxing against the cold brick wall. A whiff of chill air prickled my bare legs and shoulders. Well, fuck, should’ve taken a coat. I shivered, taking the last tug, putting the cig out with my heel, folding my arms together to hug myself and rub my arms for some warmth.

“New friend of yours?” a male voice startled me, making me jerk my head up, but I rolled my eyes, seeing JJ walking towards me.

“What if he is?” I sniffled a little, digging my fingertips into my skin as he towered over me, trapping me against the wall. 

“Walked away too fast, should’ve carried on flirting with him. That was…entertaining.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I saw everything.”

His body was pressed to mine now, I could see a wound on his lip in a faint light of a lantern that casted a glow over us, the same angry look in his eyes, the dark of his pupils swallowing his pale blue. He was so dangerously close, I didn’t feel cold anymore, his hot breaths hit my cheeks and his chest warmed mine. He smelled like cologne and beer, a hint of smoke too or maybe that was me.

“You saw nothing, JJ, let me go, I’m cold.”

He only looked down at me, pressing himself further, even though it seemed like there was no way to get closer. His face softened and his voice lowered into a whisper, “Did you give him your number? I know he wanted to fuck you, I fucking saw it,” he took a sharp inhale, clenching his fists, “Tell me.”

“I didn’t.”

A sigh of relief escapes his mouth, then he bent his head to level my face and his lips found their way to the side of my neck. He was careful at first, then the kisses turned into wet open mouthed ones and my knees bucked, but he caught me by my waist, devouring my neck, making my breaths hitch.

“JJ,” I tried to scold him, but my voice became shaky and weak as his lips veered to my throat and up to find my lips.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped into my mouth, “Do you want me to stop?”

I only shook my head in protest, that was all he needed, because he kissed me prolonged and deep, like he was kissing me for the last fucking time, his tongue brushed mine and he bit my bottom lip at the end of the kiss making me hiss.

His cock, hard, brushed my stomach, even through the rough material of his jeans I could feel him. Huge palms skimmed my sides, pushing my dress up to my waist. He cupped my pussy, rubbing my clit with his thumb, the fabric already soppy with my arousal, “Is this for me?” 

I didn’t reply, I just mewled, slightly bucking my hips to meet the movement of his hand.

“Is this for me?” he repeated, pushing his finger inside an inch with my panties still on, “Use this pretty mouth of yours, I need your words.”

Fuck he was so hot when he was jealous, almost like a different person, because normally he’d act less possessive and softer.

“Yes,” I breathed out, clutching his bicep for support, “Someone is gonna see us.”

“I don’t care.”

He snatched his hands away, fiddling with his belt and zipper, pulling his cock out, leaking with pre cum, hard and silky. My mouth watered. I thought I heard a distant chuckle from the bar’s front door. We were hidden behind the corner, but the thought of someone seeing us made my stomach tug.

He swirled me around swiftly, pushing my underwear to the side, giving himself a few strokes, rubbing his flushed tip against my needy cunt, lubing himself up in my wetness and finally sinking in, slowly, filling up every inch of me.

“J, oh, fuck—“ I whined, reaching behind to grasp his hips, feeling the head of his cock nudging the back of my pussy. Abruptly he pulled out, leaving me empty and aching.

“You know, I wanted to smash his face against that counter,” he pushed in again, his movements rough and persistent, “Fuck, he was hitting on you and you just smiled back so sweet and innocent,” another deep thrust. 

His lips were next to my ear, one of his hands braced against the wall, another caressing and pressing my stomach.

“And the look you gave me, like I was fucking no one?” his teeth sunk into my shoulder. I couldn’t manage a response, I just let him fuck me and let it all out, because I was enjoying it too, desperately biting my lips to prevent from moaning, while he slammed his hips into mine, the sound of our skin slapping made me more eager.

“Wanted to fuck you right there so he’d know who makes you come hard, makes you whine and moan, fuck—“

he seized my hips, quickening his pace, fucking me faster, his nose brushing my hair in the back of my head, “Are you mine?” he whispered, sucking the spot below my ear, “Tell me you’re mine.”

I leaned against him, resting my head on his chest, panting and rubbing my clit in slow circles, clenching around his cock, “Yes, yours, I’m yours, god, fuck—“

His fist wrapped around my throat and he poured his tongue into my mouth, kissing me dirty and sticky, unleashing a new wave of desire. I went dizzy, my fingers flicked my clit frantically as I moaned into his mouth, holding onto his forearm for support, feeling his cock grazing my sensitive spot again and again.

“That’s right, you are, mine to fuck and kiss and smile to.”

“Jealous.”

He smirked, but let it slide, kissing me more, until I fell apart, trembling in his arms, my pussy rippling around him, “JJ—“

“Good girl, fuck, look at you,” his thrusts grew sloppier but remained deep, “Shaking in my arms, did I fuck you good? You like getting on my nerves so I could make you come this hard?”

Fuck him and his dirty mouth.

I let go of my clit, feeling tears forming in the corners of my eyes, locking in a long spasm, biting my fist to muffle my cries. He came a minute later, when my high subsided, his cock twitched, thick ropes of cum filled me and he pulled out, immediately fixing my panties, snapping them in place, “Keep it there, I want you to walk with my cum inside your tight little cunt, so you’ll be reminded who you belong to.” 

tags: @icedcold @pankowforlife @novxturient @mackenzielovee @alwaysclassyeagle @kaelibaby @sunset-styles @maybanks-luver @nope-thanks @absolute-fcking-chaos @tomhollandlol @blueicequeen19 @loveyru @rottenstyx @drewbooooo @rafecameronswhore @sansasdove @herejustforjj @ameliaalvarez06 @my-baexht-ls @colbysxplr @chaostudee @i-always-come-back-xoxo @luversgirl @vintageirene @wannabestarkeysgirl @liamthedunbar @instabull @dudenhaaa27 @jessmaybank @ofherscarlettwitchways @kayleiggh @harryspunchingbag @angelofcigs @adventuresinobx @brooklynhunt444​