#they aren’t evil but they do like to hunt people

[dark-by-day]

I <3 evil x

[gremlingottoosilly]

The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]

Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.

CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)

Word count: 3246

This work on AO3

You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 

John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 

His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 

But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 

When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 

John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 

But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 

You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 

God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 

You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 

— I can fold my own pants, love. 

He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 

— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…

— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 

— Little minx. 

— Me or Lady Lasswell? 

John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 

You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 

God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 

He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 

Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 

The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 

You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 

Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 

He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 

Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 

He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 

Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 

— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 

You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 

You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 

Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 

His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 

— Shite, love. Sorry. 

His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 

He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 

— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 

— Not a chance. 

Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 

You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 

John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 

— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 

— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 

He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 

You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 

— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…

Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 

He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 

Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 

Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 

— Help your captain, eh? 

You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 

He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 

John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 

— This is not very… appropriate, sir.

— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 

 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 

He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 

Price moans. 

— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 

The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 

— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 

He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 

God, what are you even thinking about? 

You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 

— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 

— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 

— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 

He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 

He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 

— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…

Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 

Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 

— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 

You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 

[deadghosy]

WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!

Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️

STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘

HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER

prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”

Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…

“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.

Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.

You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.

“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.

NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥

I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.

“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.

Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.

Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.

I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.

I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”

Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”

I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things

NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)

“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”

Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.

The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆

Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.

Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.

I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.

“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”

I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”

Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.

“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭

I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”

I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.

I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.

“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”

THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️

I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.

I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.

Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room

I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.

When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.

I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.

NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️

[moonlightcycle571]

My Take On Evil Captain Marvel / Shazam / Shazamily

In an AU where all the heroes are villains, and all the villains are heroes, I like to think Captain Marvel is like the Poison Ivy but for the Magical Community.

So we all know Captain Marvel is the Champion of Magic, and as such he has duties, be it a hero or a villain. Now picture this:

Homeless Billy Batson, fresh out of being struck by a Magic Lighting, gets taken in by the magical community (be it the fae, a witches coven, magical creatures, or smt). He develops a love for the mystic realm and is thus more active as Champion. They have shown more love and kindness than any human ever has, and eventually sees himself as a magical being / well of magic more than he sees himself as human.

But then, tragedy, and he sees people hunting down members of his beloved community for the sole reason that they have magic. They see creatures under HIS domaine being captured and sold in the black market. He sees butchered remains and fur of his friends being hung as trophies.

So seeing as that there are NO magical protection laws, and knows deep down that Adults Cannot Be Trusted (if his time on the streets taught him anything, it’s that), he takes matters into his own hands.

He hunts the hunters for fun. He rips apart ANYONE who DARES hurt those under his protection. He destroys countries who normalises the destruction of the mystic. He sends plagues and lighting. Those so called ‘Heroes’ who try to stop him aren’t any better, for they stop him from doing his Duty as The Champion.

He gets noticed by a group of individuals who wish to recruit him (evil JL). He joins, not because he actually cares about their goals, but they promised to leave anything magic alone, and even help him take down his adversaries. Morality is something he has long given up on.

The Gods don’t care either. From their point of view, humanity has long forsaken them, and makes a point to destroy what they have created. Hecate is especially supportive, she created most of the magical creatures, of course she has a fondness for them.

Mary, Freddy, Tawny (who in this au might be a creature that Captain saved) and the rest of the Shazamily join in, as they too much prefer magic over humans. Maybe in this au, they were put into more abusive environments.

Fawcette becomes the center of the magical world, and is known as the most protected place if you are of the mystic.

It’s a shame that cursed Black Adam did not join them, his time trapped made him soft, and developed a fondness for people (it’s what his son would have wanted). And really, he ought to get over Kahndaq. Sure, they destroyed the country, but they had it coming! They were trapping a bunch of Gods!

Anyways, this is just me rambling. I might make a part 2 if the inspiration comes to me.

[fatkish]

Would you do a Muzan x reader where the reader is a hashira who is actually aligned with Muzan and is helping him achieve his goals from the inside? Muzan is soft for the reader, who is pretty much just as evil and intimidating as he is

Muzan Kibutsuji x Hashira Reader

You met Muzan during the Sengoku period

You had been in a similar situation as Kokushibo. You had awakened your demon crest and would die before the age of 25

That was until you met the demon lord himself

He saw how cruel you could be and decided to give you a chance as a demon. He gave you his blood and you became his partner in crime

You would hunt down and kill the demon slayers

You had done it for hundreds of years

Whenever you came across a demon slayer, they never lived to tell the tale

You quickly became an upper rank demon and eventually you became an upper moon

You share the title upper 3 with Akaza

Not that you aren’t stronger than him, you’d just prefer to downplay your strength so that your victims feel a false sense of hope

When you fight, you hide your strength and gauge your opponent’s strength before you actually fight and put in an effort

You always ensure that your victims die so that they don’t come after you

Unlike Muzan, you are merciful when it comes to your prey

You deliver them a swift and painless death, since you believe that their fear and stress taints their flavor

Muzan doesn’t mind your merciful kills since he at least understands why you would show mercy, and at least it’s for an understandable reason

When it comes to certain people like assholes and those who beat on their spouses or children, you’ll torture them and slowly kill them

This is what Muzan enjoys about you

When a demon slayer challenges you, you either quickly kill them or slowly kill them. It all depends on the kind of person they are

You’ve become somewhat of an omen, a harbinger of vengeance. People would begin to tell their children to behave and be kind or else you would come for them

[coolestzed]

Alright, I’ve been holding this inside for years but I’m finally gonna say it.

Misako haters are actually fucking annoying at this point.

They always were to me, but now, they’re just OBJECTIVELY an annoyance. And they need to STOP.

They take literally ANY chance to slander her, even when it’s completely unwarranted. Like, I’d just look at a picture of her on Pinterest, and there’d be multiple comments going "the world’s worst mother". Or I’d see content about Koko and there’d always be comments comparing her and Misako and going like "Koko way better fuck Misako".

I’d even see a fucking meme and people would slander Misako. Like they couldn’t resist.

And that’s not even mentioning his people constantly make her seem way worse than she actually is. Im not gonna quote everything, but basically they act like she never does good things for Lloyd. That she doesn’t care about him at all! And it’s just- so WILDY out of character!! And it’s the same vice versa! I saw a funny Ninjago video the other day with a "your mom" joke and someone in the comments was like "jokes on you, Lloyd would never call Misako mom". I’m just?????? Yes he DOES????? ALL THE TIME???

People just act like their relationship is nonexistent! Like they don’t care about each other, or that Misako doesn’t care about Lloyd! Which is OBVIOUSLY not true!

People claim that she disappears every other season but the only seasons she was absent in are 12 and 13. Also, she has a job. She goes on expeditions. Obviously she’s not there 100% of the time. And she and Lloyd clearly spend time together off screen.

People don’t even acknowledge the reason why she left in the first place. They act like she dropped him off at a boarding school and dipped to take a vaycay. She was literally trying to stop her husband and son from having to fight to the death. You ever think about that? You ever think about how SHE felt in the situation? With her husband being consumed by evil and later being banished, and learning that he and their son would have to fight each other? She was HORRIFIED and GRIEVING! Ultimately she did it to save her family. It doesn’t make leaving Lloyd right but it’s understandable.

But apparently not to almost all of the fandom.

Most of y’all, completely ignore that, and everything else that came after season 2.

Misako constantly being worried about Lloyd in Tournament of Elements and Possession.

Both of them spending Day of the Departed together.

Her getting/building the Destiny’s Shadow as a birthday gift for Lloyd.

How she supported, fought beside, and risked her life for Lloyd in Hunted.

How she wanted to stay and fight with him during MoTO but only went inside because Lloyd urged her to protect the civilians.

Not to mention just their general interactions. THEY’RE ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE EACH OTHER!!! Do you know how many times they hug?!

And this dialogue here:

"Aren’t you going to kiss your mother goodbye?"

"Mooom, we've-we've talked about this-"

WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?!

Lloyd and Misako have a good, healthy and loving relationship. Misako has long since made up for her mistake and they’ve moved on.

Yet THE FANDOM REFUSES TO!!!

EVERYONE, TO THIS DAY, STILL TREATS HER LIKE THE FUCKING DEVIL!!!

I CAN’T EVEN COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES PEOPLE HAVE HAD OVERDRAMATIC TANTRUMS FROM HER JUST EXISTING.

IT MAKES ME SO UNREASONABLY ANGRY.

AND THE FACT THAT I’VE SOMEHOW BEEN SEEING EVEN MORE MISAKO HATE DURING AND AFTER MOTHERS DAY IS ACTUALLY APPALLING.

NOT EVEN FUCKING ENDEAVOR FROM MHA GETS THIS MUCH HATE AND HE’S DONE MUCH WORSE TO HIS FAMILY.

IT. HAS. BEEN. OVER. 16. SEASONS. AND. A. MOVIE.

GET. OVER. IT.

*deep breath*

Look, she’s not perfect. Obviously. She fucked up. But who in this series hasn’t? She came back, and she’s made sure to be a better mother to Lloyd. He forgave her, and they have a good relationship now. They’re close.

She wouldn’t be as hated if the writers didn’t do her dirty. Her introduction wasn’t handled the best, and having her and Lloyd have a more in depth discussion would’ve made the reunion and forgiveness feel less rushed and forced. That love triangle with Wu and Garmadon certainly didn’t do her any favors either. 😑

Regardless, her character’s gotten better over the seasons. Again, she and Lloyd and close and have a good relationship.

But hardly anyone acknowledges that, almost everyone in the fandom hyper fixates on that one mistake from years ago. They don’t pay attention to anything else. Like how she’s a better mother, or how she’s just a generally good person.

You aren’t supposed to judge characters or irl people solely on their past mistakes. Especially when they’ve already made up for them. Thats why the "Misako’s a horrible mother" statement is always bullshit to me.

Seriously, Misako’s been a part of Lloyd’s life longer than she’s been absent from it at this point.

The amount of passionate, unforgiving hate she gets is so undeserved and over the top. Too many people are projecting their own issues onto her. Or just being plain hateful. It’s not fair to define her entire character on a single mistake that she’s long made up for.

And it’s definitely not fair to people that actually like Misako. Often times on the few positive posts about her, there’d be Misako haters in the notes or reblogs complaining about her or insulting her, or just stating they hate her but love the content. And that is completely uncool and rude. It’s so unnecessary. You don’t do that, that’s so shitty. The again Misako haters have a habit of spouting unnecessary hate. Like it’s a terminal condition they have.

So, please, for the love of god, COOL IT. Stop and think, try to ACTUALLY look at her character without the veil of blind hatred.

If you still dislike or hate her, fine! But if you’re gonna detest her, at least hate her as she is and don’t make her worse than she actually is to justify hating her more.

And PLEASE stop bashing her at every turn, it’s annoying, upsetting, unwarranted, unnecessary, and just not good.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[nmakii]

Ok so another part to your yandere alastor series?! Im like obsessed with them, i love the way you write Alastor!!

So an idea i guess? I love the idea Alastor slowly corrupting his kids and reader trying her best to correct them? Obviously she can’t. Idk, i can see Al wanting his son carry on his legacy while his daughter is becomes a sweet but strong woman who can probably destroy your life in a matter of minutes. I just want his kids to get corrupted to become like him!! 😭

IN A MOURNING WARNING, NO ONE HEARD

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!]

— day by day, alastor ruined your children with his malicious thoughts, while you set them straight. it’s as if evil and good decided to fight their battle in your house.

every day in this house was a headache. sleeping beside the monster called husband every night, him cuddled up to your side as if he hadn’t broken your hopes for years. acting in front of your children as if everything was fine— that they had parents who were madly in love with each other. and, raising your children. of course, raising them in itself is difficult, but alastor seems to just enjoy making your life a hell on earth.

implanting evil thoughts into your babies’ minds, and there was no one else but you to fix his mess. to instill morals in their minds, and to make sure they grow up to be diligent and kind.

sitting down at the dinner table seemed to grow harder and harder each day. resisting the urge to vomit as your son told you and alastor of how he found a rat at school, and how he had cut its’ tail off to see if it’d regrow like a lizard. the image of your little boy being so cruel made you sick to your stomach. and, alastor, he’d done nothing but laugh. “oh, my! quite the experiment, my boy!” he chuckled as he took another bite of his food. “now, dear… that isn’t very nice, don’t you think?” you frowned. “mmh, but dad said that i should feed my curiosity!” noah pouted.

“well, dad is true on that. but, you shouldn’t feed your curiosity if it hurts other people or animals.” you said, lecturing him. “au contraire, my love.” alastor interrupted. “id say that curiosity is one of the most important human emotions! how else do you think mankind discovered to hunt and cook chicken, pork, beef…” he rambled. “they are good for the body, aren’t they? they give the body protein so that they’re strong and so they can protect the people they love! don’t you want our little boy to protect his friends and family?” he raised an eyebrow. “yeah, momma! so that i can protect you and emilia!” noah said.

you felt your heart crack at his words. it seemed as if there was no hope in undoing what alastor had done. as if the little boy you worked hard to raise died. but, maybe there was still hope for your daughter.

“oh, and dad!” noah said excitedly as he looked to alastor. “my friends think its so cool that we go hunting, and they wanna join too! can we bring them, please?” noah begged, bringing alastor’s amusement. “aw, they want to join us? hm, i suppose we could, but only if they’re as well-behaved as you!” he hummed, to noah’s delight. “really?! you’re the best, dad!” noah grinned, running to alastor to loosely hug him by the neck. “yes, yes… now, go finish your meal. your mother worked hard to cook that, and it won’t taste so good when it’s cold.” he said, patting his son on the head.

you zoned out, staring at your daughter in her chair, playing with her food, and scratching the bowl with her little fork. she giggled and talked to herself, before blood started flowing from her nose. “oh, dear…” you muttered under your breath, running to the kitchen to get a tissue paper. “eww! momma, emilia is drinking her own blood! yuck!” noah called out, scrunching his face in disgust. and, when you returned, emilia was, indeed, drinking her own blood— licking her top lip as the blood leaked, and smiling at the metallic taste in her mouth. “oh, emi, sweetie… don’t do that. blood is yucky.” you scolded your daughter as you wiped the blood from her nose.

“yummy!” she shouted, licking her lip for the remains. alastor grinned at her comment, “i couldn’t agree more, baby!” he laughed, swaying the water in his glass. “not right now, alastor. emi is bleeding.” you huffed out in a frustrated manner. “ah, i suppose you’re right, darling. emi, baby, are you okay?” he cooed to your daughter across the table. “i’m okay, daddy!” she grinned, going back to eating as per usual, despite the roll of tissue in her nostril.

“are you okay, my love?” alastor asked, his eyes moving to you. “i’m alright, just exhausted today.” you let out, keeping your emotions and intentions to yourself. “hmm, then why don’t you rest after dinner, dear? noah and i can wash the dishes.” he assured you. “wah?! but, dad, i wanna go play!” noah huffed and pouted. “now, son… protecting also means to help others when they are tired. don’t you wanna help momma?” he asked your son. and as noah thought it over, alastor spoke again, giving him more of an incentive. “now, i hate to do this… but, if you don’t help your mother, i won’t bring your friends to hunt.” noah’s eyes widened at the unfairness. “what?!” he frowned. “guh, fine, ill do the dishes!” he pouted, gathering the cleared dishes and bringing them to the sink. “hmph, good boy.” he grinned. “go rest now, dear.”

and, as you went up the stairs, that moment finally dawned on you. that hunting with his friends and father meant so much to him, he was willing to do household chores. it shattered your heart as tears filled your eyes— why couldn’t you go back to a simpler time? when it was just the two of you. when all you had was each other.

“momma, i missed you!” noah said hugging your legs as you returned from work. “aw, i missed you too, baby!” you smiled at your precious boy. “c’mon! i wanna play with you!” he said, attempting to pull you by your wrist. “in a second, sweetie! momma has to take off her heels!” you laughed.

that memory was 6 years ago.

[dullgecko]

Another goblin headcanon is that goblin hoards have a reputation for a lot of in fighting and strict hierarchy, which is just completely untrue.

While they do have leaders this is normally just the oldest/most experienced in whatever area they’re in charge of and hoards are actually normally very close knit and protective of each other.

One reason for this stereotype is that goblin as a language has a lot of clicks, hisses and growls that to someone who’s not used to it would think that anything said sounds aggressive and threatening.

They also wouldn’t be able to tell the nuisance in goblin body langue e.g angry tail thrashing vs excited happy tail thrashing, big toothy smile vs showing off teeth and ears going back relaxed not really concentrating on anything in particular vs ears going back I’m annoyed and about to attack.

Goblins also tend to use a lot of touch to communicate; gentle biting of friends, whining up to someone when they want something they have (especially younger goblins to older ones), playfully pushing each other and cuddling that honestly looks more like grappling and all this from a uneducated point of view could be seen as fighting.

Add this to people already having a low opinion of goblins and a lot of the ‘studies’ and ‘research’ done on goblins is at best extremely biased and inaccurate and at worst just plain racist, and goblins developed the reputation as savages that will attack even those in their hoard.

I’m also imagining a scene where riz and the bad kids go to the mountains of chaos and either run into or get captured by a goblin hoard. And after a few misunderstandings (they did plan on eating them, apart from riz) they’re happily welcomed and shown all around their section of caves, given food, a place to stay the night if they want etc.

It’s definitely weird for riz to suddenly be surrounded by other goblins after spending his whole life with the only other goblins he really interacted with being his mom and his dad and he does get pretty overwhelmed and emotional at points. But it’s also nice to experience for himself that no matter what people say goblins aren’t just these naturally evil stupid creatures.

Also the rest of the bad kids get climbed on, a lot.

These Goblins don’t often get a chance to interact with other races so are naturally very curious about the bad kids and to them getting up and close to new friends is perfectly fine, plus they’re all so much bigger than them so it makes perfect sense to scale up them to say check out gorgugs goggles or check out the colour of Kristen’s hair etc. xx

Honestly, i love this so much that i want to print it out and eat it. Thankyou.

---------------------------------------------------

They only even got attacked in the first place because a group of older goblins out for a hunt came across a pack of tall-men carrying what is clearly a CHILD and stepped in to 'save' them.

Noone actually got hurt, despite a lot of weapon brandishing and hissing, mostly because all the bad kids by this point are EXPERTS at reading Riz's body language and it translated perfectly over to the dozen or so goblin adults surrounding them and were smart enough to firstly drop Riz (who had been play-fighting Fig earlier and was at the time being carried around like a sack of potatos under Gorgugs arm until he calmed down because he had entered the silly and biting zone) and secondly put their hands up and drop their weapons.

It had taken Riz a while to talk them down, mostly because (as he explained to his party later) his mum and dad were from the opposite end of the range and had a WILDLY different accent and he had to wrap his head around that first. Think a New Zealander trying to talk to someone from Rural Texas. They can understand eachother, it just takes a bit for you to get used to the accent.

Once Riz explained to them that they were from Elmsville, and that this was his horde, the goblins attitudes changed drastically from 'intimidating and pissed off' to 'friendly and curious'. There wasnt much of a change in their body language, but all the bad kids relaxed immediatly when they clocked the shift (which only added weight to Riz's claim that these were his horde). Especially since Fig could hiss out a passable 'nice to meet you', even if her accent was terrible.

Some of them even put down their weapons to get closer and examine the rest of the bad kids, several of them grabbing and poking at Fig and Fabians forearms when they noticed the bite marks from the earlier play-fighting and Riz showed off his own bite-marks from Fig.

They get the invite to spend the night in the caves, since its already getting dark by this point and a bit too late to set up camp, and they happily accept. Kristen and Adaine have an absoloute ball playing with the goblin kids who come to investigate (they're so SMALL AND CUTE) while Fig and Gorgug get climbed all over by children and teens in equal parts. All of them kept getting offered food that they knew from experiance they proooobably couldnt eat without getting food poisoning, but they had plenty of rations to offer back and Adaine kept pulling candy out of her jacket to the delight of both the kids AND adults.

Fabian gets spared the brunt of the grabbing and poking, but mostly because Riz has taken refuge on his shoulders after a couple hours and was flicking his tail in mild annoyance anytime someone got TOO grabby. He'd fled up onto his favorite perch when, intrigued by the novelty of a NEW and STRANGELY DRESSED goblin teenager, more than one of the hordes teens had flirted a little too aggressivly with Riz for his liking (a boy around Riz's age had grabbed his tail and done SOMETHING Fabian hadnt quite seen, but the next second Riz was scrambling up his back and hissing so he didnt ask).

[driedlillies]

What do we think about Gerry instead of going for the beholding aligning himself with the spiral to hide/get away from Mary?? Traditionally it would probably be easier with the lonely, because of the invisibility, but the thing is, if he’s running away from Mary, abandoning her, he loses the closest thing he has to an anchor, and he doesn’t trust himself to pull himself out in time, so spiral it is.

The tattoos are spirals of course, he draws them on with sharpie the first time and they just don’t go away after that😭 also they change placements all the time.

He runs away successfully before she kills herself with the catalogue and still hunts leitners. Spiral likes him more than beholding does in canon but he still doesn’t give himself to it fully, it’s very much balancing on a fine line

He never gets accused of murdering Mary, so he doesn’t have any reason to start working with Gertrude, he’s very much a solo act. He focuses on burning the books and helping people, as much as he can. It’s harder without the eye, but he’s been doing this for a long time. I’m sure Mary is aware he’s somewhere out there — he’s certainly a popular gossip topic amongst avatars, but she can never get a trail on him, and neither can anyone she sends

He’s not a fully realized avatar, but his powers aren’t half bad — he’s confusing to look at, it’s basically impossible to pin down his eye color, and his flat is full of abstract paintings that make you dizzy when you look at them.

Eventually someone catches wind of his skills, so he sometimes gets commissions from avatars. It pays for the food, at least.

He meets michael in a library — for once, he’s not hunting anything down, and he likes to read fiction; if for nothing else but the reminder that books aren’t inherently evil. A door appears in the fantasy isle, between the bookcases, and out steps the distortion. They’ve never been introduced, but Gerry would have to be stupid or ignorant not to know about them. Nobody can ever agree is the Distortion is an avatar or something else, but the fact remains it’s one for the entities you don’t want to get on the bad side of.

They play for the same field, but Gerry has been known to play by his own rules, so he immediately gets ready to run — would that do anything to a being that can open doors anywhere they want? — but Michael doesn’t attack or even seem displeased with him.

“Hello, bookburner,” they say, smiling. “Would you like to come in?” they gesture towards the yellow door that wasn’t there when Gerry came in.

Gerry would have to be a fool to agree. Sure, the infamous hallways would most likely be harmless to him, perhaps even make him a bit stronger, but it doesn’t mean he would be able to come out on his own.

“At least take me to dinner first.”

“Would coffee be satisfactory?”

So, they go for coffee.

(Months later, Gerry would ask if that was meant to be a date, and Michael would just laugh.)

[cloudcountry]

Hi! It’s me Mario again 😅

So, I was watching Disney movie clips, and I remembered something... I look a lot like Snow White... And it's kind of ironic that I always preferred the Evil Queen..

And I was thinking... Maybe Vil dating mc who looks like Snow White? Maybe mc and Neige are siblings, but mc aren’t like him (personality) and went to NRC ‘cause it’s better...?

Idk what I just said :v

(mc can be gn, so everyone can identify <3)

SUMMARY: Vil Schoenheit and Rook Hunt with a S/O that's Neige's sibling.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: omg this is so funny. but!! for the sake of making sure it's as inclusive as possible, i'll just be doing a s/o that's in the same family as neige!! ^^ no physical traits will be described!! apologies that this isn't exactly what you wanted but i want to make sure a lot of people can enjoy this ^^

Vil thinks you’re absolutely lovely, albeit a bit soft. You’re too kind and spoil the people you know too much, which prevents them from growing as people most of the time, but that’s just how you roll.

He very obviously doesn’t like your brother. Neige tries so hard to connect with Vil that you almost feel bad, but you remind your brother to respect Vil’s wishes as well.

It will definitely cause some tension in the relationship, especially during competitions. It will take a lot for him to open up to you about why he feels the way he does, but with enough patience and care, he will.

Seeing you talking about laughing with Rook does make him a bit bitter if you’re talking about your brother. Vil has been working so hard for perfection and this boy is so effortlessly perfect.

It’s going to take a while. I won’t lie to you, and neither will he. But after the events of Book Five, you’ll notice him being a lot more relaxed, even if most of Pomfiore doesn’t see the same.

Rook obviously knows Neige has a sibling. Though, that’s not exactly a surprise considering he talks about you all the time in interviews. He dotes on you relentlessly, even though many of Neige’s fans are put off by your sneakiness. The contrast between the two LeBlanche siblings didn’t matter though, and Rook was enamored with your loveliness when he first saw you.

He composes poems in your honor and leaves them at your desk. Neige’s sibling at NRC has certainly stirred up commotion in his fan circles, but Rook makes it his mission to make sure you’re never uncomfortable with the attention. (Mostly by hanging around you himself because, well...it’s not like many would come near him anyway.)

Eventually, you find yourself charmed by his love for all things beautiful. He’s delighted when you tell him so, swooning. Cue a speech about how beautiful and tender young love is!!

Truly, he adores you. If there is a puddle on the sidewalk, Rook will take off his jacket and lay it down so you don’t have to dirty your shoes. There is not a day where you will feel unloved with him around!!

He’s simply delighted that you chose NRC instead of RSA. Truly, he doubts he would have met you so soon as he did if you hadn’t made that choice! Besides, with your unexpected deviousness, you definitely fit into NRC more anyways ^^

[sepublic]

When discussing the benefits but also the dangers of fantasy in TOH, it makes me consider how this ties into Belos’ bigotry, religious superiority, white supremacy, etc. Because I see how in the parallels to Luz and the depictions of his witch hunts as a ‘game’ he played as a kid, the show is getting into the thought process behind white supremacy and the like; Specifically, by suggesting that it comes from the same core principle of “I was born special, I’m a hero.”

Because think of it this way; I was born inherently better than others, it’s in my blood, I have to defeat evils? These aren’t unlike what white supremacists believe about themselves. After all, TOH is coming off of Harry Potter, which is criticized for the “It’s in his blood” trope with the protagonist.

This is foiled by Luz, who wants to believe at first that she’s special and things will automatically come to her because of it, but then Eda has to explain; Sorry kid, but if you want things you have to work for and earn them, just like anyone else. Some things can be attributed to luck on Luz’s part, but it’s not as if she’s blind to this and saying it’s ‘destiny’ (unlike someone else), plus in general we all have a bit of privilege in some ways.

And again, that ties back into Christian white supremacy, particularly the Puritans, who believed their colony would be a "City upon a Hill." That it’s their goal to enlighten people, or else root out the evildoers; You can see how this evolves into evangelicalism in the U.S. and the right’s obsession with anything new as satanic, even if it’s something like Elvis Presley or Pokemon (which Dana grew up with, coincidentally), or more recently, furries.

(No really, this actually happened I kid you not. It seems like an exaggeration but I swear it genuinely happened and it truly is absurd that it did.)

Anyhow I think that’s important, because it’s not just the message that Christian white supremacy is bad, it’s why people even believe and buy into these things to begin with. A lot of alt-right 4channers and the like fall into these rabbit holes because they feel cheated out of the implicit, unconscious promises of white supremacy and feel as if they’re owed something; So obviously women and PoC, the queers, the ‘diversity hires’ and affirmative action, this is what’s cheated them.

And you can see the connection between white christian ideas and how that can translate into a lot of fantasy stories, hence “It’s in your blood” and “It’s destiny,” as well as Isekai Colonialism; The idea that what if another world and its inhabitants just existed for you. These tropes are inspired by outdated ideas that Christian white supremacy, an outdated belief, has plenty examples of and sometimes even inspired.

And this is why it’s important to engage with these things critically and question them… But at the same time, Luz is still allowed to love Azura, it’s just about maintaining a critical eye and being self-aware of what you internalize and don’t. Hence her learning to differentiate reality from fiction and not become delusional; Hence King doing the same!

By making that connection, it does explain this type of bigotry by framing it in a way that viewers can actually relate to, even if they also condemn it just as much, if not moreso after understanding. It ties even the genocide with tropes like the dragon slayer, the endless horde of monsters you don’t ever have to feel bad about or question killing, or the DnD Evil Race; Which on their own, these stories aren’t necessarily in advocacy for genocide of course, some of them are just inspired by previous ones without making that connection. And most people know not to let it affect how they see reality.

Because it’s one thing to let yourself be petty and find catharsis against a genuine, extreme example who has gone out of their way to hurt you (those definitely exist, alas); But it’s another to actively search for people to feel angry towards, amidst groups unrelated to you, and provoke them until they give you that ‘justification’. Because you’re not responding to anything, you are the aggressor; In essence, you are performing a witch hunt, in a need to feel like a hero enacting righteous judgment.

Because you’re desperate for the power of putting someone else beneath you, which is what the mundane bully does, out of the belief this conversely translates into you being above others; Again, the ‘chosen one’ beliefs, the Christian white supremacy. And suddenly you better understand why Evangelicals raged over something as innocuous as the Pokemon games that Dana grew up with, back when they first came out.

So Luz understands; She does understand, better than some people, in fact. She understood the Collector. But just because she understands, doesn't necessarily mean Luz approves or excuses; She still has every right in condemning Belos because she never let herself go that far, and this behavior would be condemned even by those trying to make up for it; It’s why they try to make up for it. And the fiction Luz wants to happen for herself (which isn’t the same as the fictions one enjoys) isn't centered around there being hidden bad actors amongst the populace to constantly root out; Luz is only going to react, not act, and consistently, predominantly sees the best in others.

In the end, Belos latched onto Caleb marrying Evelyn, and then the Grimwalkers, and finally Luz, as a way of a proving a point to himself; That wiping out witches WAS in service of humanity, it would actually help them, by showing how he 'rescued' a human from temptation. I'm sure he genuinely loved Caleb, but in an extreme form of Luz's Wing it like Witches, at some point he subsumed Caleb's input and agency to instead make him into a docile trope to make decisions for.

And when Caleb didn't go along with that story, pointed out how it didn't fit the reality of the situation; Philip killed him! His priorities shifted from doing it for Caleb's sake, for the sake of HIS fantasy; He saw an opportunity to live out the Witch Hunter story and it mattered more to him than actually helping someone, or realizing in relief he didn't have to.

Hence the Titan saying Belos "fears what he can't control" due to "his need to be the hero in his own delusion." It’s a quote applicable to real life conservatives who look for things to outlaw, because hating makes them feel like righteous saviors; Remember Pokemon? Gotta save people from themselves and any potential temptations… Belos couldn't control Caleb, and the Grimwalkers? Belos' way of re-attempting his 'side quest' to again, prove that what he's doing is for the sake of humanity, in the absence of actual humans to work with.

Not that he cares about this for fear of hurting others, but because he fears it means he isn't the special hero. Note that Belos doesn't feel guilt over any witches and demons he killed in For the Future, it's telling; As is the assumption that even if he was treated with hostility when arriving in both Gravesfield and the isles, Belos still understood that murdering the colony was wrong… Yet ignores this lesson when it comes to demons because of hypocrisy, choosing to go after the world that was canonically accepting and would be much harder to attack.

And when Luz shows up, Belos abandons Hunter (showing how much he really cared) because Luz is a real human to save, even if she's technically a queer girl of color; But if you remember how Americans kidnapped Native children and assimilated them into Christian society and culture, it actually makes perfect sense because it's another form of genocide. And it's just as racist and insincere as the murder. And just like many homophobic Christians, Belos selectively chooses what to apply from the Bible because he knows it speaks contrary to what he does and he fears that, it’s something he can’t control despite his attempts to.

[beastofburdenxo]

Close Encounter

MINORS DNI

Emmett finds a woman alone in the woods, he proceeds to watch her.

tags: Masturbation, dirty talk, nudity, daddy kink, exhibitionism. Emmett is a very bad boy! 2.1k words

~possible part 2 if enough interest~

It was a nice day out, not too hot not too cold. Emmett made his way out of the dilapidated factory he now lived in to hunt for food and supplies. With the end of the world, or the apocalypse, or whatever in the hell you wanted to call these days, living was not easy for anyone. Emmett lost everything, his family, his job, his way of living that he always thought he would have. The creatures came, and everything came to a halt, even communication was deemed difficult. Noise attracted the creatures because they were blind and relied on their hearing. So, no more everyday conversations, whispering only. Preferably sign language if you were lucky enough to have learned it before shit hit the fan. He knew very little sign language, not that it mattered, he hadn’t seen another human being in 6 months or more. The very few survivors that were smart enough to learn being quiet was the way of life now, kept to themselves, if there were any more survivors that is.  

Emmett made his way through the city without a hitch to the outskirts of town to the woods. He must go further and further each time to find anything useful. Eventually, he thinks he’ll have to find somewhere else to live in another city. He stays because this city is his home and it's all that he has left of his old life. Leaving his city would be the final thing he could lose besides his life, and he tries not to think that way much. Gotta keep going until you can’t anymore, right? The woods get thicker and thicker. Emmett knows his way like the back of his hand, plotting every step to not make much noise if at all. He hunts with a crossbow but has a gun on his hip just in case. Sometimes the people you come across are just as evil as the creatures and you need to be prepared. His gun was there for him when no one else was. He never thought he would have to kill another human, but these days its dog eat dog. He's come across cannibals on more than one occasion. That's what tends to happen when hunting goes bad, and people get desperate to eat. He was not about to be on someone’s plate. So, his gun goes where he does.   

Through the forest he goes, crossbow in hand. So far nothing catches his eyes or ears. What animals that haven’t been killed by the creatures or surviving humans have moved on. Emmett isn’t the type to lose hope though. He makes his way to the stream, thinking maybe he could fish, when he does finally hear something. A soft humming sound reaches his ears. No animal makes that type of noise, and the creatures are silent to his knowledge. Against better judgement he decides to go investigate. It could be another survivor possibly needing help. Closer to the stream he gets, staying almost silent so as not to scare away whatever it is. On top of the humming there is a slight splashing, something or someone is in the water. Emmett crouches behind a clump of bushes to stay hidden while he sees what it is. He sees a woman in the water, naked. All that is visible is her bare back and her long brown hair. Her clothes and weapon aren’t far away from the bank, just in case. She's humming to herself as she bathes, thinking she’s alone. That is what Emmett was hearing.  

He doesn’t want to be a peeping tom and just watch her, but at the same time she’s naked and probably wouldn’t appreciate being walked in on. Besides, what would he say? “Oh, hello there, taking a bath, are you? Nice weather we’re having.” He decides to wait until her clothes are on to approach her. “So, I'm just going to sit here and wait like a weirdo until she’s done?” he thinks to himself. “It’s not like you have anything else going on at the moment. Where do you need to be suddenly?” he rolls his eyes at his inner monologue. She's still in the water, probably with the same thoughts, I have nothing but time. He couldn’t help but watch her, suddenly fascinated. She's the first living human he’s seen in ages. Where did she come from? Is she local? Is she part of a group? Is she another cannibal? The man in him is also fascinated because she’s naked, not that he’d admit it of course. She turns to the side, more tan skin in his view. Long legs toned stomach and arms, and the nicest firm breasts he’s probably ever seen. A soft sigh escapes his lips. “I’m such a damn pervert.” he tells himself not taking his eyes off her. “You can’t leave her, what if something bad happens? You need to be here to protect her just in case.” the angel on his shoulder tells him. “She’s awfully vulnerable right now.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Great, now I'm talking to myself.” The splashing continues, as she gets closer to where Emmett is hiding. She's beautiful, and not just because she’s the first woman he has seen in a long time. She turns her back to him again, with the water not as deep as before he can see just a few slivers of her ass. He bites his bottom lip. He can feel his temperature rising as his heart beats faster. “Good lord Emmett, acting like a horny teenager.” goes his inner voice as the front of his dirty jeans gets just a little bit tighter.  

“Stop this,” as his hand goes to his front to palm himself. Another sigh leaves his mouth as he watches her. Being on survival mode, there’s not much time for sex. It’s not like there’s anyone around to indulge with him even if he did have the time. So, it’s safe to say it’s been a while. He’s tried to go into his memory and bring up something sexy to think about while he’s lying on the floor at night, but then he just gets sad. All his dirtiest experiences have been with his wife, who is now dead, so that just ruins the moment. A release is desperately needed. He squeezes himself harder, trying to stay silent. “Just what you need Emmett, get caught grabbing your dick by possibly the only other woman alive!” he chastises himself still squeezing. It's starting to hurt now; a decision needs to be made here. “Walk away and keep her in your mind for later or do what you need to do here and now quietly.” The decision has been made for him by his own hand as it makes its way to the button of his jeans to undo them. He’s so turned on he can’t tell if he’s just sweating or already starting to leak precum. The hardest part to keep quiet is the zipper, but he manages to moving at a snail’s pace keeping an eye on her to see if she notices. Luckily for him she doesn’t notice him as he pulls his jeans down past his hips.  

His achingly hard dick springs free, biting his lip to keep silent as the fresh air hits his skin. His pretty eyes close as he finally grabs onto it. She's still in the water, taking her sweet time. More of her heavenly body is visible to him now, just in time. He decides to get out of his crouching position and sit on the forest floor for comfort, grimacing as a leaf crunches underneath him. She's still oblivious god bless her, as he starts to move his hand. With his dick rock hard he begins to wonder what she would feel like underneath him, her legs wrapped around him. His hand moves faster as he imagines her looking up at him, mouth slightly open as he fucks her. Her pretty little moans as he moves just right inside her. How warm and wet she would be for him. Emmett pulls his shirt up to bite on to keep from making noise, rough hand still stroking. “She probably has soft little hands,” he thinks to himself, “Soft lips too, just right for taking me in her mouth like a good little girl.” he softly groans at that thought, trying to control his breathing. “God, I bet she sounds so good. Ready to take whatever I give her. Begging to come on my dick. Such a good girl.” his eyes roll back; it won’t be much longer now as he is oozing precum all over his boots.  

He’s so worked up and wet he’s afraid his movements are making too much noise. His fear goes out the window as he watches her bend over, ass on full display for him. His hand goes into overdrive, as his other reaches down and squeezes his balls gently. “Maybe she’s a bad girl, needs daddy to spank her. Naughty girl bent over for me, so I can grab her hips and bury myself deep in her. Pull her by the hair and turn her around so I can watch those pretty lips say, ‘Please daddy’.” Emmett’s eyes roll back as his breaths come out in spurts oblivious to the fact that she is now facing him, hands covering herself. He has been spotted, but there’s no going back now. “Such a pretty baby, arch that back for me,” his inner dialogue purrs, “Let me see you come for me sweetheart, you can do it. Yes, baby that’s it be a good girl and squeeze me. You take all of me so well.” he pictures her coming apart on his dick, coating him with all she has to give. Crying out his name as he takes her through her orgasm. Legs shaking as she whimpers to him ‘Thank you daddy’” That’s all it takes for him to finally lose it. Thigh muscles clenching as he finally comes. His eyes water at the release, thick ropes making a mess of the forest floor and his hand. A loud groan makes its way through his clenched teeth on his shirt. She watches the scene unfold before her, wondering how long he’s been there. Slightly aroused by the sight in front of her, not expecting to see another human, much less a masturbating one.  

Emmett’s whole body relaxes as his orgasm subsides. He lays flat out on the ground, muscles turned to mush. He really needed that; he just hoped he wasn’t too loud. His brain takes him back to survival mode. “Get your ass up, you are in a weak position right now. Get going, you still have to find supplies to take back.” Agreeing with himself with a sigh he puts his pants back on and sits up. Eye contact is officially made with her. She's watching you, but for how long? Did she see everything? Does she know what dirty thing you did? A slight flush hit his face at her being full frontal in front of him and at the thought of being caught literally with his pants down. “Poor baby got caught playing with himself,” she thought to herself with a chuckle. “At least he’s handsome. Those eyes are just plain beautiful.”  

Nothing is said, awkward silence filling the air. What should he say? What do you say in a time like this? He gulps audibly, afraid that she’ll pull her weapon and kill him. “At least I’ll die satisfied and happy.” the sick thought crossed him. A slight flush reaches her whole body as her thighs clench together. She hasn’t seen a man in ages, she thought she might have been the last one alive. She doesn’t know why she doesn’t have the urge to put her clothes back on, I guess because he’s been there awhile. He's seen all she has for the most part, why bother being modest now? She bows her head as she wonders what to do now, she’s ready to get out of the water, but will he attack her if she does? Rob her? Kidnap her? Why is she so turned on right now?  

Getting her courage up she steps out of the water and towards Emmett, slowly like she’s the predator and he’s the prey. Time stands still as she’s directly in front of him now, close enough to touch. He decides to be a man and stand. What happened next almost made him fall back down again as that familiar tight feeling came back. 

She smiled

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter V: We Don’t Have to Talk About it.

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev.

songs for this chapter: cool about it by boygenius, pink pony club by chappell roan

summary: the celebrations for Chris’s return continue, this time with the first Corroded Coffin show in years!

a/n: everything i write in these chapters makes me want to write more LET’S GOOOO. keep an eye out for a new tab in coming chapters ;)

chapter tags: mean!eddie, mean!reader, fighting, weed, drinking, angst, hurt/no comfort, talks of adult content creation | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author!

—

You are determined to have a lazy, relaxing day off. Your brother’s gone out for a job interview, so you once again have your apartment to yourself. You start by indulging in a greasy homemade bacon egg and cheese sandwich, made on a toasted everything bagel slathered in butter. You savor it with sips of coffee consumed on your front porch, hoping your nextdoor neighbors aren’t awake yet to pollute the area with cigar smoke.

When you’re finished eating, you pluck the book you’ve been reading from its spot on the couch and make your way to the bathroom. One compromise you’d refused to make when apartment hunting: you needed a bathtub. No walk in shower bullshit. You’d gotten your wish with this old duplex, the bathroom, though a garish purple color, came with a beautiful clawfoot tub.

You let the water warm before plugging the drain, peeling off your pajamas and wrapping yourself in your soft, freshly washed robe. You have a routine on days like this. You’ll take a bath, smoke a joint and sip your coffee in the tub while you read at least three chapters before the water gets cold. You queue your On Repeat playlist, not willing to skip around every song in your library. The music sets a nice ambiance humming through your bluetooth speaker as you sink into the warm water, bubbles creating a soft blanket over your naked form. You release a sigh as you slip up to your neck, relishing in the warmth engulfing you. When your muscles feel loose, you dry your hands on the towel you’ve set aside, and pluck the joint from the ashtray. The sweet smoke fills your lungs, causing a pleasant burn in your chest. You exhale slowly, grabbing your book from the makeshift side table you’ve put together.

Currently, you’re halfway through Normal People, your copy a bit worse for wear, pages water stained and spine snapped in several places. It’s already punctured your heart a few times, you can’t help but feel frustrated for Marianne. The high buzzes pleasantly in your brain as you read, creating vivid pictures in your head from the words on the page. Marianne morphs into you, and for some reason Connell has grown long, curly locks and grown an affection for silver rings. All of this, set to the musical stylings of Boygenius in your steam filled bathroom. You’re supposed to feel at ease, but there’s a coil tightening in your belly you’re not sure how to stifle, making your chest flutter with excitement.

It becomes nearly impossible to focus on the story, so you set your book aside in favor of your phone. You’re careful to hold it above the water, scrolling through your various feeds to see what your friends are up to.

Stevie (@ thehairington): i’m never letting rob aux again for as long as i live

rob (@ lilbirdie): not MY fault ur a big baby!!!!!

b (@ babybeez): … do i wanna know what song ?

rob (@ lilbirdie): pink pony club! i thot it would be fun!!

b (@ babybeez): oh ur evil

Stevie (@ thehairington): RIGHT!!!

You giggle, imagining Steve as he and Robin drive to work, breaking down as Chappell sings, “You're always on my mind / And mama, every Saturday / I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE,” and you wish you were with them. Maybe you’ll go bother them later, once you grow tired of being with only yourself for company. You exit out of Twitter and open Instagram, the first picture when your feed loads being the last people you want to see right now. It’s a picture of Eddie, clearly taken by someone else. He’s sticking his tongue out at the camera, standing in front of The Hideout.

@ thefreakmunson: come thru tonite, corroded coffin plays at ten.

Ugh, right. It’s Tuesday. Your mother is definitely gonna call you to work tonight, and your good mood flies out the window. As if reading your mind, your phone dings, but it’s not your mother.

Eddie (block later.): Is my favorite bartender workin tonite?? ;)

You seem to stab each letter as you reply:

god i fuckin hope not.

he replies only with :(

__

It takes another hour for your mom to text you.

mama: hi honey, i know i tell you every week you can have tues off, but i just got a call from chris’s buddies telling me they’re coming to surprise him tonight. would u mind? i’ll owe u

you love your mom more than anything, but you can’t tell her you’d do it for nothing, because it’s going to be torture. Ever since Chris joined the band when Gareth went to college, you’d been avoiding working Tuesdays even more than before. The band hadn’t played their usual nighttime slot since Chris had come home, so the crowd is expected to be substantial.

yea of course mom, see u at 8

mama: thx baby bee

You look at the clock, the red lights reading 12:00 PM. Still plenty of time to go get your friends to come out tonight, despite them both having to work tomorrow. Luckily, they love you, so you don’t expect to have a hard time. You take your time getting dressed, humming along to the music as you comb your hair and do your makeup. Once you're satisfied, You migrate to your closet to pick out an outfit for tonight. Something devious plays in your brain, and you want an outfit that will draw attention. You want to look hotter than you feel, hoping to trick yourself into confidence in the face of a possibly awful night. You look hot though, in a cropped black t-shirt and form hugging jeans, and take the opportunity to post a long overdue selfie.

—

“Bee!” Robin squeals when you enter the record store, far too excited to see you.”You look hot!” Now she’s complimenting you. Something’s up.

You make your way through the long outdated shop, surrounded by walls lined with records ranging from the 60s to 90s exclusively, and a floor dusty with loose boards that creak loudly with every step. It’s a miracle this place has enough business to stay open. You like to conspire that the owner Mr. Summers is in the Mob, and this place has been his front since it opened in ‘86. You keep that in your diary only, though.

“Should I duck and cover?” You direct the question at Steve, who’s standing at the counter with a big grin on his face. “Not you, too. What’s going on?”

“You’re gonna want to kiss him when you hear this.”

“Oh?”

“Do you wanna tell her?” Robin calls over her shoulder.

“Well actually—,”

“He got us Chappell tickets.”

Your mouth falls open so fast you feel your jaw pop.

“She’s in Indy this weekend, and I happened to have some extra money from, y’know,” Robin holds her hand up, “We do not need to hear about your OnlyFans, Steve.”

Steve shrugs. “And yet, I still let you reap the rewards.”

You squint at him. “Are you doing a bit right now?”

They shake their heads, faces flushed from laughter.

“Seriously?”

“Look me up, stevethestallion.” His tone is even now, all traces of joking gone.

You call his bluff, and type the website you definitely haven’t used before into the browser. When it definitely doesn’t already have you logged in, you type in the alleged username. “One or two e’s?”

“Just one, I can’t compare to Megan like that!”

You shake your head, hitting search. The page loads. The account is behind a 25 dollar pay wall, but the visible follower count reads 35K. The profile picture is faceless, a shirtless torso with an abundance of chest hair, and the smallest hint of a happy trail. You click on it, purely for further investigation. You find your answer when you can see the faintest outline in the background of the same exact Tame Impala poster that Steve has hanging over his bed.

“Oh my fucking god. Hell yeah, dude.” You laugh, and Steve seems to release a held breath. “What, you think I'd be, like, grossed out? This is hot. And a really smart financial endeavor, apparently.”

Robin nods in agreement. “With perks!” The three of you burst into laughter.

When you’ve settled, breathing heavily to avoid lingering giggles, you turn to face them again. “Now, after this I feel even worse for asking you guys for a favor, but I’m desperate.”

“You want us to come out tonight?” Steve doesn’t miss a beat.

You straighten your back, suddenly bashful. “How’d you know?”

He clears his throat, signaling Robin to continue.

“Eddie uh, invited us out.” She rushes out.

You suck your lips between your teeth, nodding stiffly. “‘Course he did, yeah.”

“Asked me if you were working.” She adds, and you meet her gaze, panicked.

“And you said?” She shrugs. “What does that mean?”

“I literally sent him the shrug emoji.”

“I mean, you are, right?”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Okay. This is fine. Everything will be fine.”

Robin cages you in, planting a hand on each of your shoulders. “You’ll get through it. Do it for Chappell.”

You lean into the dramatics. “Of course, for Chappell.”

—

Chappell owes you, big time. Tuesdays have gone from a quiet, boring weeknight with less than five hundred dollars in the register by the end of the night. Unfortunately, those days have long since ended since you’d left for college. Every Tuesday, Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin plays The Hideout, despite your begging and pleading with your mom to stop booking them.

“I can’t!” She’d reason, “Not if you and your brother want anything to help pay for my funeral!” She was being dramatic, for the most part. But they did bring in the green, as much as you hate to admit it. Apparently a popular music reviewer had given them a shoutout, garnering them an actual audience. You‘re happy for the guys, mostly. You just aren’t in the mood to be the people pleasing, flirty bartender tonight.

It’s almost ten when the van finally pulls into the back lot. “Where the hell have you guys been?” You hiss when your brother exits the driver’s side.

“Had to make a stop.” The irritation in his voice is palpable. You motion for him to elaborate, and he jerks his head to where Eddie is opening the back door, offering his hand out to help Macy climb out. “Sat in her fuckin’ driveway for twenty minutes.”

You glare daggers at the pair of them, and Eddie must feel them on his neck because he jerks his head, eyes immediately meeting yours. You don’t let up, hoping your expression translates the rage you feel in your gut. Eddie is the first to break the staring contest, looking back to the woman on his arm. She meets his gaze with a glare of her own, and he whispers something to her that breaks her grimace into a giggle. Your palms start to sweat.

“Go, we’ll start setting your shit up. Mom’s hysterical.”

“Okay. I’ll run damage control after. Sorry, Beebs.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not you that’s gonna be sorry.” You send another seething look to the pair walking to the stage door, attached at the hip and without even a halfhearted acknowledgement of their lateness. “Asshole.” You follow the rest of them inside, Chris on your heels.

“Where the hell have y'all been?!” Your mom exclaims when Chris enters the green room, a barely renovated office that fits about three and a half people at a time. You hand your brother off to be berated, and power walk to the stage to set up equipment. Your warpath comes to a screeching halt when you reach the wings, the scene playing out in front of you preventing you from moving further.

Eddie is sitting on a barstool, guitar forgotten on his lap as Macy stands over him, passionately licking into his mouth. Eddie’s eyes are closed, and he kisses her back with little restraint, the tent growing in his pants becoming obvious when the instrument begins to slide from his lap. He catches it without breaking from her, placing it on the stand next to him. You decide you don’t have time to wait for whatever this is to play out in its likely disgusting entirety, so you leave the comfort of the shadows and make your presence known.

“Ahem,” You clear your throat loudly, causing the couple to separate abruptly, each wiping the other’s saliva from their mouth. “Sorry to interrupt, but if you don’t want an entire crowd of pissed off drunks against you, you might wanna let me set up.”

“Hey, Bee.” Eddie recovers from embarrassment quickly, you’ll give him that. You nod in acknowledgment, knowing any words you give him will be laced with unnecessary venom.

“Eddie, baby, you wanna take this to the bathroom?” Macy’s tone is sultry, needy. You almost feel bad for her, being this hypnotized by Eddie’s charm. You wish you could help her, but it’s possible she’s too far gone.

“Yeah ‘course, baby. I’ll meet you there in a sec.” His gaze slides from her to where you stand across the stage, the only sounds coming from the patrons beyond the curtain.

“Don’t make me wait too long.” She slinks away, hips swaying. She brushes past you, leaving the sweet stench of her perfume behind. What demon did Eddie make a deal with?

“So,” Eddie muses, rising from the stool. “You’re workin’.”

“No shit, really?”

“Hey, don’t be mean. Just makin’ small talk.”

“That’s not necessary.” You unglue yourself from the floor, busying yourself with wires and speakers as Eddie keeps talking. “Just thought, y’know, you had tonight off.”

“I did,” You bite, “but then Chris invited the whole damn state of Indiana.”

“Ah, ‘course. The third homecoming party this week for the lovable Christopher L/n, convicted felon.” He chuckles, and you stop what you’re doing to respond. Something in you snaps, quick and clean.

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, and he throws his hands up.

“Whoa, I was kidding!”

“Shut up, I’m talking.” His eyes bulge out of his skull. “You have the audacity to make jokes about Chris, but he could’ve brought you right down with him. You were 18, a goddamn adult. But he kept his fucking mouth shut to protect you. You know who he didn’t fucking protect? When her bullies learned he wasn’t home anymore, or when she had fucking no one on her side and the one other kid she found comfort in never called her again?” You let loose, doing your best to keep your voice even. “You ever wonder what would’ve happened, Eddie? If the roles had been reversed, and Chris had done what you did? Don’t even pretend you’d forgive him for that. There’s something else going on, and I intend to find out what it is.”

He doesn’t interrupt your rant, instead holding your intense stare with apparent ease. When you finish, he waits a beat, letting the metaphorical dust settle. Finally, he answers. “You have to let it go, Bee. There are some things you just don’t wanna know. Don’t need to know. I will never not feel guilty about what I did, but I can’t tell you anything else. I wish I could, really.”

You’re careful with your next words. “But, if I were to figure it out without your help…?”

He catches your drift. “I probably wouldn’t be able to deny it convincingly.” Eddie shrugs, signaling the end of the conversation. “I’ll let you set up. You gonna watch our set?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Eddie snickers. “That’s my girl.” And he walks offstage before you can react to the statement, or demand he at least pretend to help.

—

You make it back to the bar in time to save your mom from the massive line of rabid patrons.

“Where have you been?” She half shouts over the noise, pouring a glass of Guinness for one of Stan’s high school friends, Scotty, you’re almost certain.

“Setting up the stage!” You shout back, failing to hide the irritation in your voice. You turn to the booze hound in front of you. “What can I get you?”

You sense your mom moving closer, still grabbing glasses and bottles to pass across the counter. “No need for the attitude, Beebs.”

“Ugh, sorry. Just not what I wanted to be doing tonight.”

“Oh, and I just adore being here?” She nudges you until you grit your teeth, forcing a smile. “You wanna tell Mama what’s wrong?”

“Nah, not right now. We’ll dish later.” You love gossiping with your mom, but she knows Eddie. She knows what he’s like, what your past with him entails, and she’ll surely have plenty of insight for you.

As you take another order, the house lights dim and the crowd goes wild. You can’t help but turn your head towards the stage, where your brother’s friends have formed a pit in the front, whooping and hollering as the band takes the stage. Chris points to his friends with his drumstick, causing them to jump around, playfully shoving each other to get the crowd moving.

Eddie comes out last, greeted with more wild cheers, a lot of them more shrill than those given to Chris. Girls throw themselves toward the stage, offering their wombs to him like he’s Paul McCartney in the 1960s. You watch, your vision red around the edges, as he blows a kiss to Macy in the front row, and she pretends to catch it. You have to look away to keep from gagging.

—

“Thank you, Hawkins! We have been Corroded Coffin, goodnight!” The band line up across the stage, taking their bows. Next to where you stand with Robin and Steve across the bar, Macy and her gaggle of friends whoop and holler obscenities. It disappoints you, watching such a beautiful woman have her bar set so low.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your stare. “No fucking way.”

“I know, she’s stunning, don’t remind me.” You rest your chin in your hand, slouching over the bar.

“Of course she is, that’s Macy Miller!”

You blink at her, not understanding why her last name matters.

“She’s the bassist of Statuesque Dolls, they’re the opening band for Chappell’s tour!” The gleaming smile on her face vanishes when she looks at you again. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s Eddie’s latest muse, or something.” you shake your head from the thoughts of Macy onstage. She’s probably irresistible, a symbol of feminism and sex and rock ‘n’ roll.

“No fuckin’ way.” Robin shakes her head in disbelief. “He’s blackmailing her. Or something. Right?”

You shake your head. “Change the subject, Rob. Please.”

“Okay, sure. Steve is a pornstar.”

You burst into laughter. “A popular one! Good for him, really.”

Robin crosses her arms. “Good for him, sure, but what about me?! He’s my roommate, Bee!”

“Come on, you’re paranoid. He probably doesn’t film while you’re home.” She purses her lips, but doesn’t respond. “Don’t be such a conservative.”

She gasps. “How dare you!”

“Hey, ladies!” The subject of your conversation enters your huddle, a beer sloshing in his hand. “How are my most favorite people in the whole wide world doin’?” Steve’s cheeks are bright pink, stretched by his massive smile. His eyes are half closed, like it’s still too bright in the dimly lit bar.

“Someone’s not concerned about opening tomorrow.” You tease, motioning to his frothy drink.

“Oh, Melvin gave me the day off.” He beams, and Robin scoffs. “Sorry, Bob, snooze ya lose.”

“Oh, sure, ‘til I call out and he tells you to cover.” She winks before leaning over the bar to you. “Shots?”

You snort a laugh and grab the tequila off the bar. At the same time you finish pouring the third shot, a fourth figure looms over you. “You all takin’ shots?” Eddie’s eyes shine with eagerness.

“Yeah, you want?” Steve offers, and Robin digs her elbow into his ribs. You grab a fourth glass and slice of lime without a word, feeling the skin inside your mouth break between your teeth.

“Are we toasting?” He looks from your friends to you, and his expression softens. You shrink under his gaze, suddenly wishing you hadn’t said a word to him before the set.

“Um, not particularly.” Robin attempts to cut the tension, but she’s met with no response beyond a confused Steve asking, “What about, to friendship?”

Robin pinches the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Dingus, read the damn room.”

“What?” He giggles, still not getting it. “What did I say?”

“No, Rob. It’s cool, I like that.” You hold your own shot glass up, signaling your friends to do the same. “To friendship, current and otherwise.” You chance looking at Eddie, and his eyes are already locked on you. He doesn’t look away when you catch him, only tilts his glass towards you before licking the salt from the back of his hand and downing the liquor. He doesn’t flinch, calmly reaching for the lime to relieve his palette. You follow suit, the burning nothing you can’t handle. Being a bartender has its moments, but this isn’t one of the prouder ones.

—

“So,” Your mother starts, spraying the bar with disinfectant as you finally lock the door for the night. “What happened?”

“What?” You pretend you don’t know what she’s talking about, busying yourself with a mop across the room.

“What, what? You’ve been snippy all night. I want to make sure you’re alright.”

You shrug. “Nothing happened specifically. The boys just get on my nerves is all.”

“Boys? Or Eddie?” Your mom gives you her Mother Knows All look.

“Ugh, whatever.” You don’t answer the question.

“Bee, you can talk to me. I know you’re going through a lot, your brother being home and all. You haven’t seen Eddie in, what, two years?”

“Three.”

“Three years! See, you’re taking a lot on at once. You know you can lean on me, right?”

You set the mop back in its bucket and walk over to your mom, picking up a rag and the spray bottle before moving to the tables. “Yeah, I know. But I’m sure you’re also trying to cope with your son being back, I don’t wanna add any more stress on top of that.”

“You’re my baby. Your stress is my stress, always.”

Your walls crumble at her affirmation. “It’s just, who does he think he is? He has the audacity to show his face around here after what he did! And Chris just lets him! It’s like nothing happened, and it’s pissing me off. Making me feel fucking crazy!” You usually don’t swear around your mom, but it all pours out of you. “And he talks to me like we’re buddies, like he didn’t ruin my fucking life when he sent Chris to prison.” You rub your tired eyes, awaiting your mom’s wisdom.

“Have you talked to Chris? Gotten his side?”

You roll your eyes. “I tried. He told me very little. Eddie was no help either.”

Your mom tosses her rag aside and leans her elbow on the counter. “Boys are morons, baby bee. I’m sorry. I wish I could offer something more profound. You’re talking to a divorcee, here.”

You laugh despite your mood. “Are we all just doomed? Forced to deal with this inferior species for the rest of our lives?”

Your mother chuckles. “Probably!”

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj let me know if you’d like to be added!

[batbirdies]

I just feel the need to remind people that when you’re getting upset about bad rep of your blorbos in fic please remember that 90% of fic is just badly written. Almost ALL of the common complaints I see about fanfic are because most unprofessional writers just aren’t very good at it. I promise you that the people writing two dimensional versions of your blorbo aren’t doing it on purpose. They just literally aren’t good at this.

If they totally misrepresented your fav in order to prop up their own fav it’s probably because they couldn’t think up a more balanced way to represent what they wanted to showcase because that would be complicated and multi layered and difficult and this other way is simpler and straight forward and doesn’t require the same level of skill or comprehension, dedication or effort.

Like… I don’t like to bring this up much because telling people “yeah I mean most fic is just bad” can be discouraging to people who already worry that their writing isn’t very good. But that’s just not the point.

Fanfiction isn’t published. There are no rules and its purpose is to be fun! For the writer just as much as the reader (if not more) and readers can just go away if they don’t like the thing. They don’t have to read it!

I just see so many posts complaining about how fandom does so many things wrong and it’s like… yeah this is like complaining that hobbyist artists work lacks depth and imagination and being disgusted by how bad the perspective and shading and color choices are. Like?? They’re not a professional and they are out here doing this for fun. MOST PEOPLE ARE BAD AT ART.

I just want people to stop and think sometimes before they jump on certain fans or fandom tropes as the root of all evil in their fandom. Like is it the trope or is it that the trope is being written clumsily and without skill?

In which case… does it make sense to complain that hobbyists just aren’t as good as you wish they were? That their free content is obnoxious to sift through on the hunt for something good?

Maybe you don’t think they should be allowed to have a fun time if they aren’t good at the thing.

Maybe you should think about what that says about you.

I’m not saying never complain about stuff you hate seeing, you’re still allowed to hate it. But the vitriol directed towards the writers is where I get confused and caution people to think about how much sense it makes to get mad at people for not being good at their hobby.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Imagine Leona after his overblot, never taking off his gloves even when he plays magift/spell-drive life he used to, yet still seeing everyone flinch from his hands. Imagine him being thrust back to when he was young, where the whispers of the staff curled around him like he wishes his mother’s arms would have, feeling like a monster for something he doesn’t understand, didn’t ask for, didn’t want to have. Imagine him, who already saw his hands as a symbol of destruction and evil and cruelty, being shown yet again that people will only ever fear his touch.

Except, imagine that the Prefect is there. Imagine the prefect is hearing these whispers, sees the flinches, and is angry. The Prefect was there- magicless and terrified- in the middle of a sandstorm, fighting to survive and fighting to make sure her friends survive, who felt what King’s Roar does when it touches your skin, who has a matching scar with Ruggie from the battle against Leona’s blot. How can these nobodies, who have never known the sting of sand down to the molecular level act like this? How dare they, who had only seen Leona’s grumpy tsundere type of care and not the scars from the fight, now act like they understand the dangers of King’s Roar?

Imagine the Prefect, caught in this righteous anger, storming up to Leona.

Imagine Leona bracing himself for another emotional wound, knowing that from anyone- he deserves the scorn and hatred and fear that you may spew at him. He knows it will crush him in a way that no others could replicate, save maybe for the tiny cub that he pretends to not love.

Imagine the prefect stopping in front of him and grabbing his hand, taking off the gloves and placing the bare hand on their throat.

Imagine the whole school stopping.

Imagine Leona’s heart stopping.

Imagine the shaking in his hands, the weakness in his knees, the tear welling up in his inner child’s eyes when you say, for all the world to hear, “these hands aren’t evil. Leona isn’t evil. King’s Roar isn’t evil. I was there when these hands were used, when they were turned against me as weapons, but I trust them, I trust Leona.”

Imagine Leona, for the first time since his unique magic showed up, feeling someone trust him and his hands completely, without any covering or barrier or safety net. For the first time since King’s Roar ruined his life, he felt the warmth of another person on his bare hand.

Imagine Leona being able to tell his younger self that someday, he will find the most stubborn, annoying, foolhearty, beautiful, selfless, kind, amazing herbivore who will give him their lives to hold in his bare hands without flinching.

Imagine Leona being able to tell his younger self that someday, someone will love all of him, including his hands.

(My first time writing something, usually I just gush and reblog to @/scared-reader-electric-boogaloo, so let me know if this sucks or oversteps a line!)

AAAAAAAHHHHHH

ASDFGHJKLYTRTTREARSAW

THIS IS SO FREAKIN GOOD HOLY GUACAMOLE IF YOU HAVE A BLOG PLEASE SEND THE @ TO ME BECAUSE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS SO *CHEF'S KISS*

I've seen the trope of character A puts the hand of character B around their throat as a show of trust in a fanfic in two other fandoms I've been in and that is literally my kryptonite because it literally put's the whole "I trust you with my life" thing in a whole new context

(I've also had this WIP/blurb of Fem!Yuu/Reader doing something similar with Rook by having him shoot an arrow at an apple on her head from a distance (probably whilst blindfolded as well) and when he releases the super sharp, pointed metal arrow, she just stares right in front of her, completely straight-faced and unblinking, without even a hint of fear - kind of like this scene from The Addams Family Musical mixed with that scene in Divergent where Four throws knives at Tris)

But you know what's great about this trope being pulled of with Leona? Since he's a lion beastman - an apex predator built for hunting prey - he has enhanced hearing which means that he can hear Yuu's heartbeat and can literally have solid proof that Yuu isn't scared since their heartrate hasn't increased a bit.

And also, he loves his herbivore so much. Who needs a kingdom or a throne when he has the world?

[annoyinglandmagazine]

The Sons of Feanor aren’t monsters. That would imply that they’re somehow different, that they were either born a certain way or were transformed past the point where they could be recognised as people. That it wasn’t entirely their fault that they were incapable of making the right choices because they were fundamentally evil through no choice of their own.

And I don’t think that that’s true at any point for a single one of them. Because they’ve all seen each other drenched in blood that wasn’t their own, hacking their way through orcs and elves alike and maybe it would be easier even if they could say that they didn’t recognise their brothers, that they had changed and become mindless killing machines, slaves to The Oath. And it wouldn’t fully be a lie. But it wouldn’t be the truth either.

Because they’re still the same people. They talk the same way, they make the same facial expressions, they have the same (though sometimes darker) sense of humour, Celegorm still tackles everyone when he sees them, Maglor still hums under his breath constantly, Maedhros still worries about them, Curufin still fiddles with bits of metal during meetings, Caranthir still likes his hair to be stroked just so and Amrod and Amras still pull faces at each other during meetings to see who’ll crack first. And when they’re killing they’re not different people then either. Because they still mourn, they still weep, they wake up in the middle of the night screaming, they shake and tremble in each other’s arms, and they know they’re monsters but they’re still people.

Sometimes one of them will think back to their childhood. Maedhros always took control of a situation, any argument. The expression of grim determination the lord of Himring later wore was not new, he’d worn it all his life as Prince Nelyafinwe when he’d been keeping all his emotions under wraps to maintain appearances as he witnessed all the most vicious manoeuvrings in court with no qualms.

Maglor’s voice had always been powerful, sometimes it had made things break with the sheer strength of it. Curufin had always been good at getting himself out of trouble and others into it, annoying all his cousins and brothers thoroughly in their youth. When Celegorm hunted he never blanched at the bloody entrails of the creatures he killed. Caranthir had gone into moods where he could be angry enough to try and fight anyone who so much as looked at him. They’d always agreed with all their father said with no hesitation, adored him fully.

All of this comes to mind sometimes when they think of all they’ve done, the familiar expressions, the same techniques and skills used for evil but none of them had been red flags. A red flag would imply that how things had gone was somehow inevitable, that it should have been spotted and predicted. But the thing about that is that it couldn’t have been predicted that they’d do this because they might not have. They could have been good people. None of their attributes had made a single one of them predisposed for the path they’d later taken. They’d always been flawed but they hadn’t ever had any desire to hurt other people, they’d had the potential to be not perfect but still good.

And they don’t lose that potential altogether. Maglor and Maedhros still find traces of it even after everything, damaged from disuse though it may be. They don’t lose who they were entirely, they haven’t fully changed per say, the difference is that now they know what the are capable of doing. They know that they will kill if it is necessary, that they will do anything for their father, for their Oath and they know that they always would have. No matter what good they do they always were and always will be capable of this. But they might have never known that. And that’s the tragic thing about them, they had the potential to be the heroes but were born into precisely the circumstances that would turn them into villains.