#this feels like torture. like cruel and unusual punishment

[sage-nebula]

I don't read tumblr posts that are just one paragraph with no punctuation. It honestly makes my brain feel so fucking uncomfortable to have a single paragraph that is not only one run-on sentence, but a run-on sentence without a single comma. I hate it so much.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Cruel and Unusual Punishments (the PSA episode).

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[moe-broey]

Okay now for something Different. Or the same. Who knows. But entirely for my own enrichment purposes.

For Moe, a transmasculine character who, despite its flamboyancy and androgyny, is solidly exclusively Some Guy in identity just with a lot of extra steps (and can get really dysphoric if interpreted Incorrectly). For Moe, all of this considered/factored in, to have a fairy Resplendent, which seems to be an all-girls club.

The goodness in your heart aside that may wish well for Moe and its fate. Is it giving Women and Thems, conflating nonbinary/genderqueer identities with being afab and therefore "woman-lite", which inherently alienates anyone who falls outside of that whether it be due to identity (Moe's case, it WILL fucking kill you), presentation or sex assigned at birth. Or can Moe just serve cunt in peace with its complicated relationship with femininity (both what was enforced and coerced upon it and how it currently defies and defiles it). Thematically, can Moe serve cunt in peace?

[partycatty]

are you open to doing hcs or a fic with johnny (mk11 or mk1 variant idc lmao) and reader with dacryphilia? i just know the sex is so good he can make a mf cry. 😭😭

stares at this anon with incredibly wide eyes

mk11 & mk1 johnny cage > dacryphilia

warnings: nsfw, overstim, johnny being a dickhead, author struggles to write dominant johnny bc they know deep down he's a pathetic little bitch boy

notes: oh my god i am . i am so excited. i love this so much i've been holding onto this for .... days . ilysm i'm writing for ALL THREE. lh ymg OGLDJRKSKWJD

masterlist <3

♡

dilf >

• by FAR the most dominant of the three. he's been around. he knows how to please a woman and he'll make that abundantly obvious when you're reaching your fifth orgasm of the night and he's still pumping into you.

• while he's the most dominant, he's a soft dom! he absolutely worships his love like a goddess and will put her pleasure before his. but he's gonna have his fun while he does!

• johnny loves to please you with every inch of his body. facesitting, fingerfucking, thigh riding, cockwarming, humping his boot, eating you out, he will get you all fucked out one way or another. there's a lot of ground to cover on his huge body, and he devotes every square inch to your pleasure.

• he'll mix his praises in with degrading when he's really into it. he blabbers on and on and he gets closer, the degrading taking over when he's about to cum.

• johnny, on really good days, won't be done fucking you until your mascara drips down your cheeks. he's mastered the art of lasting during sex, so he will be hard for quite some time. and even if he goes soft, he'll just stop and eat you out until the erection returns.

• "such a pretty girl... my needy whore... oh fuck, baby, you're killin' me here..." he loves to just say things into your skin. he'll bite your shoulder or bury his face in your folds and still have something to say. a ball gag wouldn't even stop this man from yappin'.

• "just one more, love, i know you can do it for me," he groans into your ear as he plows his fingers into you again. by now, they're nearly pruned from how much he's been fingerfucking you. his other hand is wrapped around your waist while you sit on his lap. when you reach the next orgasm, he gently caresses your thighs. "there we go, good girl. that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

• when you reach the point of mentally breaking, tears prick at your eyes and fall down your cheeks and you pathetically squirm in his grasp. you don't even know how many times you've came, but this man has somehow found a way to make it happen so many times all you can do is sob.

• in his younger days, that wouldn't even be close to implying a finish line for his torture. but now, with age, he knows better. he sees you cry and stops being as rough. he knows it'd just stop feeling good and start hurting or go entirely numb. johnny would still squeeze in one more orgasm though, just for good measure. just to prove that he can.

• aftercare KING. you just lay there like a little soggy sock and this handsome devil will wipe you clean and pepper kisses across your body, telling you how well you did for him.

• "sorry to make you cry, sugar, i just couldn't help it. you looked too damn pretty," he'll mumble into your neck. "every time you cum for me, i just wanna watch it again and again..."

• your coworkers keep asking if you're okay the following morning from how puffy your eyes are and how sore you claim to be from... training.

♡

younger >

let me just say first that it is so unbelievably funny that he is looking at himself on imdb in that gif

• he's so mean. SO MEAN!

• degrader to the max. bro is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment.

• and yeah the jacket stays on during sex.

• "you like being a filthy whore for a movie star? you gonna take it like a good slut? yeah you are," he'll yap and yap while he downright uses your body. he doesn't rub your clit to make you feel good, he rubs it so you spasm around his dick more. he wants to feel how much you crave his cock, his touch. it's all about him, baby!

• more than anything, he just loves to fuck you in every position imaginable. he wants to be buried in whoever fell victim to his charms, dammit!

• mirrors. send tweet.

• no fr, this guy loves having mirrors in every place he could picture himself having sex in. he'll pull your hair and force you to look at your reflection.

• "no, no, no, baby, don't look at you. look at me. look who's fucking you nice 'n good," he wraps his hand on the front of your neck to make you watch him rail you.

• at this point, his dick is painted with your orgasmic fluids and he's still not done. you're so fucked out you can't even think straight. your body has gone entirely limb and you're just in a hazy bliss. you've finished so many times your entire body is trembling and jerking around, and your cute moans and whines have just turned into gasps but the skin on skin slapping is incessant.

• "you gonna cry?" he asks menacingly, holding your face with one hand. "yeah you are. good fuckin' dick, isn't it?"

• you lazily nod as the gasps turn into sobs. you're just so full of pleasure and pain that you don't know what emotion to feel anymore.

• "pathetic girl, can't handle this much boom?" he chuckles breathlessly, approaching his own high. "just stay like that, baby, i'm close. tell me how bad you need me."

• that doesn't even sound possible in your current state. he may be talking, but all you hear is distant sounds as tears streak down your face.

♡

new era >

• this johnny is like a mix of the former two, but with his own little quirks! i believe this man is a switch through and through with a heavy preference for submission. but, yknow, that being said, sometimes a man just needs to fuck his girl's brains out and watch the tears flow!

• he's a man that's desperate for reassurance and this carries through during sex. he's not insecure, he just loves inflating his own ego.

• "you like that? you like how i fuck you?" he asks with deep whines in between. "tell me how much you love this, baby, please — aah —"

• he'll wipe your tears but secretly pray they keep flowing. it gets him off so good to see how much he affects you.

• also, ngl, i feel like he loves to be overstimulated too. a long ass day of shooting, he comes home and literally wants to get edged and overwhelmed for hours just to release all that pent up energy. he's a crier too <3

• 🚨 🚨 IPAD BABY 🚨 🚨

• he looooves to record you guys have sex, and if he even hears the slightest sniffle from you, the phone shoots to his hand like telekinesis. he's gotta capture every time he fucks you crazy, it's his favorite little memento to hold onto.

• "you look so pretty when you cry," he purrs out, stroking your hair as you choke on his dick. "could never get tired of this sight." he'll play with your hair but also use your throat as his own personal fleshlight. angle or debil.

• if anything, he loves to ruin pretty things. he'll feel accomplished when your lipstick is a mere memory, your clothes are missing buttons and your mascara is now painted down your cheeks. his favorite part of sex is cleaning you up, and his second favorite is ruining you to begin with.

• johnny would honestly love to keep going after you start crying, but he literally can't. he cums the second you're overstimulated because the sight alone gets him there so damn fast. as soon as the waterworks pool in your eyes, he's already getting sloppy with his thrusts and his groans turn into whines.

• he'll kiss your eyelids after sex, the heat of his body providing comfort after the rounds upon rounds of ruthless orgasms. he'd probably also lick your cheek to rid of the tears because it's funny.

[scorpioriesling]

May I please politely beg for a fic based on the Eris bc post you did? It was so good and I’d love to see him confront Rhys + co and taking care/loving reader

I’m the “Bad Guy”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: some graphic-ish injury

Summary: Eris Vanserra; he was your… what? Enemy? Ally? Both? Sort of — at least, that’s what Rhysand says, and whatever your High Lord says, goes. But, Eris saw you for more than anyone in your court ever could, and deep down you knew he had one more title, reserved for just you: true love. What happens when you’re in danger, and he’s the first and only one you go running to?

SR’s Note: Yes you absolutely can have a fic based on Eris’ HC in this post. No need to beg — I’m happy to oblige. Here it is, I hope you like it. xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The fire crackled and burned in the fireplace, embers creating a soft glow in the darkened sitting room. Eris was alone, lounging on the sofa in the Forest House, his newest read in hand. He liked spending his time this way — alone, reading, warm. He felt… content.

Little did he know, you’d quite enjoyed your evenings the same way.

Sure, he knew you shared an interest in reading. That’s where he usually found you when he’d visit the Night Court — shelf combing in the library of the House of Wind; curled in a chair, a different book to read each time he would see you again; sometimes, you’d even be caught talking about your favorite ones with Nesta. You quite enjoyed her, as well as her company and character, as she was very honest and real with you.

Yet, another thing in you’d shared in common.

On this particular evening though, the sun had already long set and the stars were sprinkling the sky when Eris felt his body tense on instinct. He had suddenly lost interest in what he was reading when he heard a commotion coming from outside. Well, not a commotion, but rather some sort of… crying. Whimpering, rather. He straightened in his chair, straining his ears to hear what was happening beyond the windows of the Forest House.

Usually, when this happened, it was the work of Beron — some cruel or unusual punishment that Eris had learned long ago to stay out of. Recently, tensions were running high with the Night Court; though Eris was still secretly meeting with them, it didn’t change that his father wanted to sever all ties with the solar court completely.

But this… this time, it was different.

“Please… please…”

Eris’ heartstrings pulled in his chest as he strained to listen, wanting to make any excuse or reason for his ears to be deceiving him.

But, he knew in his heart, they were not.

In an instant, he’d snapped his novel shut and was racing toward the front door. He threw it open, rounding the corner of the house and bolting for the enormous hedge maze in the backyard of the grounds. He wasn’t sure exactly what had come over him; on any other day, he’d leave you to suffer as he would the other Night Court Inner Circle members. But the squeeze of barbed wire around his heart propelled him forward.

He knew you were here. He knew it was you that needed him.

It was an odd feeling, tearing around corners in search of the one woman he’d thought over and over about torturing. He’d thought of you crying. He’d thought about how he could hurt you. Did that make him a bad person? Maybe. So be it. You weren’t perfect either. Over the last few years, he’d even thought of how he’d kill you himself — just, once, he’d thought of this. It was during a meeting with the entire Inner Circle, of course; Eris was present. He’d arrived early and heard you, again, talking to Nesta about your ideas on strategy and negotiation. Though you were speaking of ideas that would affect him directly, he didn’t care — the ideas were good. Nesta wasn’t shy to give credit where it was due, either.

But, none of that mattered because during the meeting, you hadn’t opened your mouth once or said a word about your ideas. You’d tried to interject, actually — but Rhysand was quick to silence you.

But how did you handle that?

Like a good pet would. You sat, and stayed silent. Just like you always did. You’d never challenge your High Lord, oh Cauldron no — he could just simply use you as a doormat, and it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe that’s what pissed Eris off so badly.

He knew what you were capable of, what you had to offer, and what you were worth; but it seemed that most of the Inner Circle didn’t bat an eye at you, especially Rhys, whom you bowed to and that was that. Your talents could be used for so much more, but you always stayed within the guidelines in which you were allowed.

“Please… Eris…someone help me…”

Eyes straining in the night, Eris followed your pained cries until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large marble water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck. Drying crimson flakes dirtied your usually vibrant tendrils, and your hands braced over your abdomen, hot tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you peered up at him in desperation. His heart split in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him as he took in your appearance in full.

But, his sadness turned very quickly, to anger. You laid, panting and in pain, in his court, on his grounds. No explanation, no one coming to help you. He felt... violent.

He knelt down to your level, leaning in and stretching a hand out to trail over your face, registering the blood pouring from inside your lip. He then reached up to move your hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing maroon pool you two were in.

Well, one of the causes. Your hands still covered your stomach.

He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, a few blood-tainted drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over the bone. You relaxed a bit at his touch, though he usually appeared so tense and malicious. When he looked into your eyes again, his whiskey irises were dulled to a deep bourbon, and his jaw was clenched tight.

"Come with me."

He stood then and wrapped his arms around your knees and lower back, scooping you up and carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out a few small yelps here and there as the searing pain in your stomach was getting to be too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. Your usually soft eyes met his, and his wire-wrapped heart strained once more. He’d felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were in his eyes. A gentle, wise, little doe. His little doe.

Whatever he’d been feeling before, it was long gone. The only thoughts clouding his mind were ones of keeping you safe, helping you in every way he could, and providing you with everything you could need.

Little did he realize, you just needed him. Wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

When Eris had finally made it inside, he sat you gently on the sofa in front of the fireplace, and ran to the washroom. It wasn’t long before he’d returned, presenting a small wet cloth in one hand and taking your chin between his fingers kindly in the other. He began to wipe away the trailing stains all over your delicate skin, trying so hard to stay gentle with you; trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others. He felt better seeing you relax into his touch a bit as he continued to work.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. It was one thing he pretended to hate; he “hated” your kindness to everyone, even his father, of all people. He “hated” your soft voice, one he wasn’t used to hearing all that often. He also “hated” your gentle loving nature — so, so much he “hated” it.

He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes to attempt to ground his senses and avoid thinking about punishing whoever hurt you like this. It only caused him more agony, watching as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping away the last of the blood from your hairline, he dropped his head for a moment, raking a hand through his hair.

“I can’t stall for you any longer, love.” He said softly. Your stomach muscles continued to tense under your palms, and you watched as he rolled a clean cloth between his hands.

"I’m going to put this,” he held up the rolled cloth.

“In here," he tucked it into your open mouth. You closed your mouth over it, so usually defiant towards your “sworn enemy”, but, really...

You'd do anything he asked of you.

His hands moved to cover your bloody ones, still clutching at your stomach.

"Y/N... you’re going to have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, fresh pain raging from the wound in your abdomen. Eris sighs, looking to you with pleading eyes.

“Please, Y/N… you have to help me help you.” His thumbs stroke over your knuckles, now covered in your blood — and you begin to remove your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp as he sees your laceration in full, and shakes his head slowly. He sits back on his knees, positioning himself between yours.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your clammy fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on yours for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest,” he begins. “I've thought about hurting you before, as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus on his words as your mind started to fog over, your vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view between your knees, his fingers ablaze with his gift of fire. You immediately sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again, his tone warning. His fingers meets your bubbling would, flames searing the skin as a scream tears through your dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for just a moment — only to press heat onto your would again within seconds.

Your hands claw at the collar of his white button down, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would, flames stinging and burning your sensitive flesh.

Over. Over. Over again.

You tilt your head back, the familiar weightless feeling becoming all too apparent. You felt it coming; you were going to black out. His once-white collar begins to slip from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before glazing over as you slink into darkness.

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Soft streams of sunlight bathe the room in a golden glow when you open your eyes again. You register the feeling of comfy, loose-fitting pants amid the cool, mahogany silk sheets you’re enveloped in. You blink a few times, and reach a hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

When your eyes adjust, you realize what’s so different; everything. The sun is illuminating the room from a window. A window across this… bedroom, with a stoked fireplace and four poster oak bed. A bed with mahogany sheets, a stark contrast to your usual lilac ones at home — as well as the teakwood bookshelf along the far wall. At least those are familiar, most of the titles. One novel is laying on the window seat; it’s one you’d just finished last week.

Then, the realization hits you; you were in Eris' room.

You try to sit up, but wince in pain and end up laying back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you donned. A thick bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing your abdominal injury. Your mind wandered to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

Within moments, Eris appeared in the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" In three steps, he’s made it to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head in honesty, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

He knew you’d be honest with him. Yet, another thing he “hated” about you.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to choke out. Eris readjusts to face you, scooting closer and reaching out a hand to stroke through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of freezing snow under your knees, the jagged rocks slicing into your palms would only be the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you swallow, the lump in your throat only growing as another tear slips free. Usually, he’d be the type to taunt you for crying or appearing so weak, but Eris only brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tears away.

"The fucking Blood Rite?" He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second. The muscle in his jaw feathers as his eyes train on yours, and you nod in confirmation. His other hand rests on yours clasped atop the sheets, and you can’t help but register the heat he is emitting, even from the small touch.

He sighs, hanging his head low and shaking it slowly. When he makes eye contact again, he takes your hands reassuringly in his. “Y/N, I’m only going to ask you one more time. Who. Did. This. To you.” You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and you lean forward an inch, almost nose to nose with him. His strong scent of cinnamon and burnt timber wafts through your senses, and you feel a small tug on your heartstrings.

“Eris, look it’s not anyone’s fault, okay? I mean, well, it is…” you begin with a sigh, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “I was sleeping over at the House of Wind with Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie, and… oh, the guys were there too, for most of the night. Cassian and Azriel.” You explain. He nods for you to continue.

“Well, we were just having a nice time and when we went to sleep, I don’t know I just… one minute I was asleep and the next, I had a mask on my eyes and someone was… uh…. mm… uhm covering my mouth and… Nesta was screaming-“ you hadn’t noticed your hands beginning to shake, until Eris laced his fingers with yours. You took a steadying breath, but the shaking only subsided a little as you still remembered the horrors of the night prior.

“So… Cassian and Azriel. They were supposed to be watching you.” Eris says evenly. You look at him incredulously.

“Watching? Oh, hardly. I mean, we’re not eight years old, Eris.” You explain. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek and contemplating your words. You can practically see the gears turning in that beautiful little head.

“It seems a little chat is in order.” He chides. Your eyes widen, and your hand braces on his bicep. He glances down at your touch, then back to your face again, nose still just inches from yours.

“No! Uh… I mean, no. Please.” You say. “They haven’t done anything wrong, and-“

“I’d hardly say allowing for you to be kidnapped for the damned Blood Rite is an inexcusable offense.” He interrupts. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Andddd, I shouldn’t have been allowed to winnow at the Blood Rite. Anyone found using their powers or plotting to escape the rite once it’s begun is…” you trail off. He nods. He knows; it’s an executable offense. Bringing any of this to attention could perhaps put you in more danger.

He didn’t care. He was prepared to do anything to save you, just as he’d done the night before. He definitely wouldn’t allow some dirty Illyrians get their hands on you again, either.

“How were you able to winnow, anyway? I thought powers weren’t able to be used on Romiel during the Blood Rite,” he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug, wincing and regretting the movement.

“I don’t know… maybe, since no one knows I am capable of winnowing, they didn’t think it’d be necessary to shield those abilities from me? I don’t know Eris, I don’t know how all this works.” You say exasterbatedly, absentmindedly wiping at your nose again. Eris only seems to become more troubled by your response.

“So… they didn’t teach you to winnow, you just… did it… and they didn’t think you could do anything with your powers, so much so that no one bothered to remove them?” His voice pitches, and you nod in agreement.

“I suppose.” He slips his hand from yours, standing and straightening his shirt. He moves toward the door, not uttering another word.

“Eris, where are you-“

“Y/N, trust me; I’m only doing you justice. You’ll thank me later, dove.”

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

“What are you doing out of bed?”

You hear him before you see him. When you slowly turn from your spot at the stovetop, Eris is leaned against the doorframe, a cocky grin on his lips, brow raised in question. You roll your eyes, the only movement you can do at normal speed without tensing in pain.

“Well, smart guy,” you say. “You ran off and left me for half the day, and didn’t feed me. So, I forced myself up and… went on a little scavenger hunt. To the kitchen.” You say simply. He scoffs and strides over to you, stopping to lean against the counter behind you. You turn to face him, and he glances at the bandage peeking out from below your top.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, no tone or condescension evident in his voice. You cautiously take his hand in yours, and his eyes gaze at you in silent question. You press his palm to your side, and smile softly at him. All those years thinking he was your enemy; all those years thinking he would truly hurt you; all those years suppressing what you knew was true all along. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy that everyone made him out to be. You knew he was a good male.

“I'm stronger than you thought, hmm?” You say with a wink. His eyes soften, and a little smile plays on his lips as his other hand braces your other hip bone. He pulls you close, so close your pelvis is touching his upper thighs. You peer up at him through your lashes as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’ve always been the strongest woman I’ve known.”

You blush at his words, finally accepting what you’ve been running from all along; you care for Eris. Truly, you did. Why else would you winnow here, of all places? Why else would you feel a familiar tug on your heart strings when he was around?

You cared.

And, Cauldron behold; he did too.

“And… you had to show me how strong you could be today?” You ask, your tone dipping low. Eris rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“All I did was go over there, and demand to know why the hell they’d allow for you to be kidnapped in your own home-“ You gasp and swat his arm lightly.

“Eris!” You scold. He grins down at you, taking your face in his hands and looking at you lovingly.

“Maybe I should irritate you more… look at you, taking initiative and putting me in my place.” He chuckles. Your face reddens, and you stare at him wide-eyed as he runs his knuckles down your jaw, his cool silver ring easing the burning hot you felt beneath your cheek.

“Maybe you should do what you're suppos-“ Eris cuts you off with a tsk tsk tsk, pulling you in close and finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You part your lips, fingers caressing his jaw and threading through his hair as his lips dance with yours. His fingers trail from your cheek down to your waist, holding you close as one hand runs up and down your side; grabbing firmly when your teeth graze his bottom lip. He pulls away, breathless as he supplies you a feline grin.

“Now, where is the fun in that?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[pomefioredove]

mea culpa

I'm stressed and overstimulated and can't focus on matchups tonight. need roro to decompress

summary: "it's not my fault" type of post: short fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty as hell (pun intended), some suggestive visuals

Rollo is an eloquent man. He understands the art of words, how to weave them together in all the right ways to create a shimmering tapestry of illusions- it's lying without dishonesty, and it's his specialty.

He knows many words, in many languages, in many forms, on paper and on tongue. He knows their definitions, their synonyms and antonyms, and their origins. He knows how to hide behind them as if they were a suit of armor, shielding him from the depravity of the common folk's unwashed tongues.

There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of words in which to express this feeling now, both saccharine and bloody, addictive and revolting, and yet, despite all of his knowledge, Rollo can only think of one.

Bad.

Very, very bad.

Those three simple letters, one syllable which so easily rolls off the tongue, have festered in his mind and spread throughout his body like an infection, making him feverish and mad with obsession over this disease of the soul.

This... is not him. This is not who he is.

This virus is not a natural part of his body. It does not belong there. And yet, it is dragging him by the back of his neck, forcing him to kick and scream and claw against the dirt in a vain attempt to escape its gnarled grasp.

It's a sickening reminder that his heart is still beating warm blood throughout his body. How he detests being reminded of his corporeal existence. As if he is more of a body than a person.

Rollo already had enough trouble sleeping.

What one might liken to butterflies or fireworks, he would to needles and flames. It's an uncomfortable, itchy feeling, one that makes him wish he could simply pull his aching heart out of his chest and run it under cold water until the burning washes away.

This isn't him.

He's not one to be distracted by restless thoughts, or the uncomfortable feeling of having hands. He hardly thinks of himself at all.

This is not his fault.

It's as if he is being interrogated and tortured for a crime he did not commit. Certainly, this is some sort of cruel and unusual punishment? A test of wills?

Or is it truly just a sickening, aching obsession which consumes his mind until all that is left is an empty room, in the center, your image draped in red?

A fire which swallows all it can reach, crawling up every inch of his body, touching him in places he had long forgotten about. A furnace burning within the center of his chest.

He cannot help but stick his hands directly into the flames.

Every time it's windy, he thinks of you.

[astrolovecosmos]

Aries Haunted House: Devils, hellish landscapes, fast-paced, flames and/or explosions, maybe dragons and slashers, loud and vivid, jump scares galore, made for thrill-seekers and the brave.

Taurus Haunted House: Luxurious hotel or place gone haunted, creepy woods, ancient or earthly monsters and powers, themes around materialism, vanity, lust, and gluttony may exist, pretty, comforting, and attractive enemies, be enticed and disturbed.

Gemini Haunted House: Mazes, mirrors, twins, doublegangers, tricks and pranks, fae-inspired horror, getting lost, haunted libraries or schools, dark vs. light, angel vs. demon, good vs. evil themes, a wild ride.

Cancer Haunted House: Ghostly ships, mansions, lighthouses, specters, chains, doors, winding corridors, family or romantic horrors, vengeful spirits, moonlight, curses, a haunting atmosphere.

Leo Haunted House: Otherworldly theater, haunted palaces or castles, fires, radiation, urgency, dark knights or anti-heroes, massive monsters, gold, crooked royalty, temptation or seduction, blood pumping, filled with warnings and feelings of DANGER, opulent, has appealing mystery or overpowering suspense.

Virgo Haunted House: Haunted hospitals, mad scientists and their labs, possibly gore or filled with body horror, themes of innocence vs. corruption, detailed and drawn out, curious yet upsetting, watch out for cobwebs and surprises from the floors and walls, sights you can't forget.

Libra Haunted House: Unexpected creepiness, whispers and strange voices, haunting melodies, whimsical or romantic settings, beautiful, delicate, and horrifying all in one, masks or many faces, shapeshifting, calming or attractive and then it bites you, deception with lighting, a little flirty, a little playful, a little smart, and a little dreadful.

Scorpio Haunted House: Psychological horror, all about the environment, suspense master, creepy crawlies, you don't even want to enter, howling, power plays, thrills, blood and bone, possibly vampires, the occult, stalking and obsessions, very observant and opportunistic monsters or actors, will push you to the edge.

Sagittarius Haunted House: Circus or amusement park themes, twisted games, traps, feeling trapped, frenzies, unexpected beasts and monsters, bad luck, hope vs. despair themes, lots of storytelling, maybe a little humor or teasing, glowing and dimming, shaking of things, loud bangs, feel like you are being hunted, unbelievable events or ending.

Capricorn Haunted House: Very cold or very hot, likely to make a moral statement, may have themes of torture or punishment, dark, intimidating, insanity, chains, sinister vibes, horns, goats or goat heads, may have an historical inspiration, feelings of disempowerment or being controlled, underground, skulls and skeletons, greed and selfishness themes, cruel and relentless.

Aquarius Haunted House: Spooky and fantastic, space or scifi themes, plays off fears of the unknown, will go to the extremes and/or unusual, may be innovative and trendy, could mess with group dynamics and/or separation, cults or secret organizations, odd monsters, you won't believe your eyes.

Pisces Haunted House: Isolation or imprisonment themes, feel like you are being watched, looming shadow in the corner or under your bed, feel upside down or dizzy, haunted lakes and pools, sirens (both the noise and creature), the undead, graves, sacred or cursed places, sea monster, ill fate or dangerous destiny, con artists characters, this house/experience sticks with you.

[iamnmbr3]

Severus calling Lily a slur in a fit of rage and humiliation while being bullied - obviously very bad. James publicly sexually assaulting Severus - obviously much worse?!!! That was some serious sadism on display. Yet for some bizarro reason the narrative wants me to judge the words said in this scene more harshly than the deeds done, because at this point Lily - an author self-insert and the Holy Mother of this saga - cuts one off for their crime and falls in love with the other. I do not like that Lily’s romantic choice is treated as some sort of absolution, but it’s what JKR implied. Despite paralleling James’ actions with the Death Eaters ‘sick’ ’torture’ of the Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup! Idk, I was never satisfied with the lack of follow through on the implications of that scene, nor with the textual idea that Snape’s fixation on the Marauders is petty childishness, rather than a quite understandable trauma response.

Yeah. I have a huge issue with the way James is framed by the narrative. It's also weird because in-universe everything works fine. The problem comes when we look at the jarring disconnect between what was written and the way the audience is cued to react. James's characterization - and the characterization of the Marauders - is well done and consistent. They all act and react realistically given who they are. The problem comes when we look at how we the audience are supposed to react. Because we are supposed to see their actions as bad, but not THAT big of a deal. And uh...yikes.

The Snape's Worst Memory sequence is one of the most horrifying and sadistic moments in the series. I find it particularly visceral and upsetting because it feels real in a way that some of the more fantastical scenes just don't. It's so horrifying and personal in a way that Voldemort punishing his minions or a snake coming out of a lady just isn't. The way James and the others so obviously delight in tormenting and humiliating Snape is just horrific. And the fact that they do this out in the open and face little pushback and no consequences makes it even more awful.

Even worse, everything we see in the narrative suggests that what they did wasn't even that unusual for them. The behavior and dialogue we see from Snape and from the Marauders makes it very clear that doing this sort of thing to Snape is a regular pastime. The reason this is Snape's worst memory is because of the effect this particular incident ended up having on his relationship with Lily, not because of the horrible treatment he endured which was horrifyingly routine.

JK Rowling seems to like Snape. But at the same time I think she tends to have a view (common among TERFs btw) that discounts men as victims of assault. Because that's what this was. And I know if a woman had been stripped and exposed by a group of boys JKR would not have treated it as lightly. Yes she thinks what happened was bad, but not THAT bad. And listen I don't have a problem with the story depicting this and I think the way it is viewed subsequently by the Marauders, wizarding society and Snape all work in the story. My problem is with the framing and the way JKR has talked about James in interviews where it makes clear that she doesn't view this with the gravity it deserves.

James shows more of a natural inclination towards sadism and obvious enjoyment of cruelty and violence than young Tom Riddle does. And this is never dealt with. A lot of the real evil people of the world are more like James - people who aren't the way they are because of some dramatic backstory or because of trauma or whatever. They just aren't kind. James wasn't raised without love or forced to suffer privation in an orphanage or anything like that. He comes from a loving home with parents who spoil him rotten. He has a lot of privilege due to both his wealth and his blood status. And he is cruel and delights in tormenting someone weaker than him for sport. Not because Snape did something to him. Not because they quarreled and James went too far in retaliation. But rather because, as James himself puts it, he exists. Which is so typical of the bullies of the world.

I actually like the fact that Harry's father turns out to be this kind of person. It think it adds depth and complexity to the narrative. But I don't think JKR fully understood or intended what she wrote. She meant to show James as flawed, but not to the extent that she ended up doing I think. And I agree that has always bothered me too.

[wickjump]

Not exactly hurt comfort but I am enjoying the idea that every time Cross reveals something about his past/childhood it slowly but surely makes the team angry. Like he happens to share a "funny story" or mention how he was treated and one by one the gang is horrified to the point where if xgaster actually showed up in the same au as them they would all be gunning for him immediately.

Also the stars showing up during this fight and like Dream: Nightmare stop this!! What are you doing to- Nightmare: (goops over and whispers something in Dream's ear) Dream: WHAT?? No fuck that (starts aiming his arrows at xgaster)

IVE SPOKEN ABOUT THIS SO MANY TIMES WITH FRIENDS/MUTUALS I AGREE SO MYCH HE HAS SO MANY TRAUMATIZING CHILDHOOD STORIES HE INTERNALLY NORMALIZED GOD. HE DOESNT REALIZE HOW BAD IT WAS AND THE REACTIONS HE GETS ARE UNNERVING. THANK YOU FOR THIS AND OTHER CROSS RELATED ASKS YOURE SO GOOD WITH THEM THEYRE MY FAVORITE

ok ya this is just plain whump warning for lotsa child abuse including physical. like beating the shit out of an 8 year old physical. also I’m so tired right now

chances are that’s not even the worst of it because you know his seven year old ass was told ‘don’t tell anyone about me beating you to near death’ and he still sticks to that. but he speaks about abuse he doesn’t even grasp counts as abuse.

withholding food. sleeping in the yard. eating food on the floor while the others sat at the dinner table as punishment (or to eat out of a dog bowl on the ground i had to do that once lol). as a kid still scared of the dark he was locked in dark rooms until he got over his fear (he’s still scared to this day but he won’t seek help because he doesn’t want to be punished again). cross touched something he wasn’t supposed to? put your hand on the burning hot stove for however many seconds that item was worth in G (maybe divided by 5/10), or until he cried.

cruel and unusual punishments were xgaster’s forte but he tells them like funny stories to the horror of literally everyone around him.

cross is not coping well with figuring out that no that’s not normal and no that’s fucked up. most of his scars are probably from xgaster (excluding the red one on his face obv). and when he delves into the traditional abuse it gets worse somehow?? anyway xgaster is on THE multiversal hitlist. star sanses and bad sanses all want his head on a wall. even ink because ink didn’t know about the abuse because xgaster never told him for obvious reasons and it’s not like cross was willing to share.

i think that once he starts talking about the abuse he can’t stop (same) and he’s just. slowly crying and eventually hyperventilating and oh he’s been holding onto that for SO long. and then he hates that he told people because he wasn’t supposed to and is scared that they’ll see him less or punish him for some reason or hate him now, but he isn’t expecting to be comforted after? wtf? he doesn’t grasp that saying ‘yeah i got in trouble at school so my dad beat me until i lost two of my baby teeth and got a temporary crack in my skull’ normally results in being hugged or something. like dude you were 8 wtf. and he’s so scared but he just wants to feel safe AUGH HE MAKES MY HEART HURT. like dude, he almost beat papyrus at a time he was so young he had to use a step-stool to reach the sink to brush his teeth :( dude…

anyway ya cross is me fr (the burning hand stove happened once/twice to me actually idk i was like 5 lol. my grandfather is not the best man) and he deserves to go through hell on earth and be tortured in his childhood i think. oh and experience comfort or whatever after idk. kross maybe because their dynamic is ‘my childhood was ruined’ x ‘my adulthood was ruined’ and i think that’s sweet. or mtt + cross poly with nightmare as the outlier wondering why they’re so affectionate all of a sudden (he’s aroace…)

BUT THATS SELF INDULGENT LMAO what really matters is how much we torture the poor lad that is cross 🥰

also make him trans because abuse isn’t enough he needs extreme dysphoria all of the time. xgaster isn’t transphobic btw this is independent from everything else

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ Minthara About Slayer

When Minthara speaks about the Dark Urge’s heritage and about Slayer – dark, monstrous entity uniquely connected to Bhaal's bloodline – she uses terms elgg-hor and duk-tak.

Devnote to Minthara’s line seems to suggest that they are merely equivalents of “slayer, killer” in drow language:

In connection to drow lore, though, their meaning is a bit broader. These terms were used as nicknames for at least two renowned drow from Menzoberranzan who were considered exceptionally cruel - even by drow standards.

🕷️ Uthegentel Del'Armgo: Elgg-hor - Elgg-hor can be translated as "Destroyer" (elgg – “kill, slay, destroy”). This nickname, along with a few others, was given to Uthegentel of House Barrison Del’Armgo, one of the greatest warriors and weapon masters in the history of Menzoberranzan and one of the largest drow ever seen in the Underdark. In battle he was fearless, seemingly immune to pain and most mortal wounds, and few drow ever fought with so much reckless ferocity. It was said that he appreciated carnage so much that sometimes he was literally ripping his opponents to pieces, tearing them limb by limb.

Uthegentel’s unusually large appearance, ungodly strength and savage nature were making others suspect that he was not a full-blooded drow, or even more than a mortal – although nobody could tell for sure who (or what) could be mixed into his ancestry.

🕷️ Vendes Baenre: Duk-Tak - Duk-Tak means literally "Unholy Executioner" and it was a nickname of the fourth daughter of House Baenre. Vendes was small of stature, but she was known to be incredibly volatile, vicious and sadistic, enjoying the art of torture. Whenever her mother needed to punish someone, Vendes was more than eager to take care of it, being “…brilliant at her cruel craft, finding every sensitive area on the hapless prisoner.”

Vendes was especially known of wielding seven-headed whip of fangs that could transform the skin of her victims, changing them into ebony statues. She was making use of it to punish lower ranking drow of her house, or even would-be priestesses of the Academy who were seen – or only suspected of – deviating from the Way of Lolth. Statues created as a result of such punishment were put on display for all to see.

🕷️ Elgg-hor and Duk-Tak in Minthara's Memories - Minthara certainly remembers both Uthegentel Del’Armgo and Vendes Baenre – since they were still alive around 14th century DR.

She was probably seeing Vendes especially often since Duk-Tak was her relative – maybe even her aunt. She definitely saw some of her famous statues and probably witnessed how they were made. Who knows - maybe the two of them were even working together at some point, since Vendes liked to punish heretics and apostates among the future priestesses, and Minthara’s oath was also connected to punishing those who turn from Lolth?

It is hard to tell if Vendes was among Minthara’s favourite relatives, being highly unstable and volatile – but Minthara might still admire her wicked efficiency and skills. Maybe she could even see some kind of symmetry between Vendes and Orin (and now I wonder if it could influence her perception of the latter somehow...).

🔹 So... yeah, both elgg-hor and duk-tak seem adequate enough as drow names for a murder incarnate. But originally, they were not used as names connected uniquely to the Slayer - or to Lord of Murder and his progeny in general.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 06

PREVIOUS

Andrew is dragging FF across campus towards where he parked his car and he is kinda of concerned that FF is just like fully letting himself be dragged across campus. I’m talking full on Andrew has a grip on the back of his hoodie, FF is just staring up at the sky, FF’s feet don’t even attempt to stop Andrew from pulling him where he wants to go, and when Andrew looks back FF’s face is just :I

Which even Andrew can admit is kind of weird.

Meanwhile FF is just like ‘The ground hasn’t really gotten cold yet so I’m sure Captain Neil and Andrew could really go to town on the hole they’re going to bury me in. I wonder what gave me away? It was probably the fucking Russian Literature book. I didn’t even like the plot twist in that one anyways. Can’t BELIEVE I’m gonna die due to my love of trashy literature. Thanks Grandma. Wait I’m sorry grandma, I didn’t mean to be rude-“

“Hey Granny Smith! I’ve been looking for you!” A most loathed nickname coming from a most loathed voice. Andrew doesn’t stop towing FF because why the hell would he? FF has never been so grateful to be dragged to his death! Now if only Andrew would break his long standing and well-known absolute refusal to do anything more than walk at a brisk pace.

He sees his step-brother jogging up to him and FF almost turns to Andrew to ask if he could just kill him HERE so he doesn’t have to deal with his step-brother and THEN get stabbed to death in the forest? He can accept that he should have told Andrew and Captain Neil that he knows Russian and the death sentence that rightfully comes with that but like C’MON having to deal with his Step-brother is just cruel and unusual punishment!

His step brother catches up and in a way maybe all the mental torture he’s gone through since coming to Palmetto is a good thing! He really was a novice at the poker face before and now he’s a grand master champion of staring at something that’s gonna SUCK and pretending like he has no idea that it is.

“Whoa there Granny.” His Step brother grabs his arm and tugs him out of Andrew’s grasp. Andrew really had not been paying attention to whatever jack off had been yelling something about apples. So FF getting yanked out of his hand was actually his first indication since FF didn’t say or react at all before. “You’ve been dodging all of Dad’s calls y’know. You still haven’t sent anything that we asked you for, got any excuse for that?!” His step brother demands.

FF looks heavenward because this is, like, so embarrassing. He can feel people stopping and staring at them.

(They were staring before his Step-brother showed up because he was getting visibly dragged through campus by ANDREW MINYARD. Some of his friends who had seen it were already planning a memorial service and candle vigil)

“Nope.” Because he has nothing to say about whatever the hell his step brother is talking about.

“Mom’s heartbroken you know! You haven’t reached out to her once!” he says. 

“I’ll get on that.”

“Are you going to get the stuff we asked you for?! We are family aren’t we? We’re not asking for a lot. Just for you to get tickets to your games for Dad’s colleagues, some autographs from your teammates, and a good word to that bleeding heart coach that we all should get the free ride you’re getting. That’s not too much right?!”

Andrew hasn’t intervened yet but now Andrew is under the impression that FF stopped hanging out because the kid’s family has been harassing him with calls and maybe this isn’t the first time they’ve come in person to campus. That’s why FF has been fading into the background. Andrew’s now under the impression that FF’s family has wanted him to use the Foxes (tickets, autographs, scholarships for his step brothers) and FF had just been pulling away so his asshole family wouldn’t bother the rest of them. That FF may not have been able to cut off contact completely because of a grandparent he was close to.

These are, in fact, the WRONG impressions of the situation at hand. The truth of the matter is that Wymack helped him get a new phone and phone number within 24 hours of getting to Palmetto, it was the one extra that he asked for in his contract and Palmetto is paying his phone bill now. The phone with the number his ‘family’ had just sits charging in a drawer on silent in Wymack’s desk because Wymack is INFINITELY petty when it comes to the things his Foxes are running from.

The other truth of the situation at hand is that Fluent Freshman’s grandma is the only member of his family he talks to regularly and he talks to her almost every single day of his life, she is the only person he can be completely honest with because she knows what a wimp he is and loves him regardless. 

His Grandma is just an EXCELLENT actress. So when his ‘family’ comes over for answers she’ll sigh, stare longingly at a framed photo of FF, and look out the window with a single pre-staged tear in her eye. She wouldn’t give them his new number no matter what.

He loves his grandma even if it was her teaching him Polish, her native tongue, that lead to him getting interested in the other slavic languages that lead him down the deadly path to Russian.

ANYWAYS.

Andrew is under some very wrong impressions but he is also under one very correct impression and it’s the impression that’s the most important anyways.

Fluent Freshman’s family is what made him a Fox and Fluent Freshman’s family are therefore the enemy.

Except FF doesn’t give Andrew the time to pull out his knife, “No, I don’t wanna do that. Bye Greg.” He says, pulls out his student ID, slaps it on a nearby scanner for a STUDENT ONLY building and power walks inside leaving Andrew and his Step Brother alone.

The door shuts behind FF with a distinctive lock and Greg looks at Andrew his face purpling from anger, “You’re going to let me in there and-“

Andrew now has plenty of time to pull out his knife. “You’re going to what?”

Greg swallows and in a show of excellent survival instincts runs the fuck away.

Andrew watches him run before he turns back to the STUDENT ONLY building and heads in himself. He finds FF just inside the doors and he looks tired sitting there against the wall. FF doesn’t say anything to Andrew, doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s there. Andrew takes a spot on the wall across from him. People give them weird looks but Andrew is fine with waiting.

He doesn’t mind just sitting in silence with FF again even if the circumstances aren’t what they usually are. So they sit.

FF has blue-screened. The stress of his impending death, of his step brother showing up and saying crazy shit, he blacked out a bit from the stress of being between Andrew and Greg and has no memory of what he said before he walked into this building and then there’s the fact that he just WALKED INTO SOME RANDOM CAMPUS BUILDING (oh god he’s probably not supposed to be in here but Greg is definitely still loitering outside maybe security will be gentle if he just sits right by the exit so they don’t have to go far to kick him out? Maybe he should move near a Different exit so Greg doesn’t see him get tossed like yesterday’s trash? Well he already sat down so now it’s embarrassing if he gets up to just go SIT AT SOME OTHER EXIT.)

So he’s taking a moment to reboot.

Unfortunately his ability to have internal conversations and recognize that someone is there with him is one of the last things that loads.

“It’s fine. I’ve always been the leftover kid. I don’t care that they don’t care. I don’t care either.” He says and it’s a mantra he’s repeated for almost a decade now.

It is definitely not something he thought he was saying out loud in the presence of Andrew Minyard and it is also definitely not something he was SAYING to Andrew Minyard but how the hell would ANDREW MINYARD KNOW THAT WHEN FF IS STARING STRAIGHT AT HIM WHEN HE SAYS IT.

So Andrew thinks it’s the explanation FF is offering about his step brother / family. If there’s one thing Andrew knows the feeling of it is being the ‘leftover’ kid.

The one-sided kinship grows while FF is working on rebooting his vision and getting his heart rate down to a BPM that wouldn’t have medical doctors concerned.

Finally, FF blinks his vision has returned back to him, sees Andrew Minyard across the hall from him, and, by the grace of GOD considering his fried nerves, FF does not flinch.

Andrew doesn’t make any move to grab him and FF decides to take this momentary reprieve that his executor is granting him to shoot off a text to his grandma. “I am so grateful for all the love you have given me throughout my life. I think I’m going to see Dad in the next few hours so please let me know if there’s anything you want me to say to him.” Is what he sends.

(This grandma has gotten almost this exact same text when he had an oral presentation last week. Her grandson is a wimp but she loves him.)

“Are we still going on that drive?” He asks his affairs settled. It’s nice that Andrew let him have a breakdown here and even let him text his grandma his final thoughts. He was willing to use his blood to write out the message but where would he get the paper?

“Yeah, we can go on that drive.” Andrew gets up and offers his hand to FF who looks at it for a long moment KNIVES. THOSE ARE KNIVES. HE USUALLY CONCEALS THEM BETTER? IS THIS HIS WAY OF SAYING HE’S GOING TO BE REALLY MESSY WITH MY DEATH? OH GOD HE’S NOT READY.

(Andrew didn’t really take the time to put his knives back in his arm bands properly because he figured he needed to catch FF before the kid disappeared again. He didn’t think he’d find him just inside the door.)

FF pushes himself up onto his feet.

They get to the Maserati and FF was AWARE that Andrew had a nice car but he hadn’t pieced it together that he’d be doing his last ride in such a nice car. He briefly pauses by the trunk wondering if he should just save Andrew the trouble and climb in himself?

Andrew sees FF pause at the car and figures he’s just being polite not touching Andrew’s stuff without Andrew’s permission. FF is just that kind of guy.

“The passenger seat is available.” Andrew says and alright cool Andrew wants to threaten him first that makes sense.

Except Andrew doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t drive them to a remote location. He’s just driving around Palmetto and FF does not think that Andrew is planning on crashing the car to kill him (He has unfortunately heard Aaron and Andrew have a fight in German when he was waiting for his own appointment with Betsy so he also Is aware what happened to their mom no matter HOW HARD he tries to forget that he knows.)

It’s just actually kind of a nice drive?

“He called you Granny Smith.” Andrew states. (Wondering if THAT is the elusive first name)

“I’m close with my Grandma. My last name is Smith. They’re not that creative.”

“Hm.” (Dammit)

Andrew watches as FF’s shoulders eventually relax until he’s almost falling asleep in the Mas and decides that the drive has done it’s job.

Eventually Andrew parks in front of the tower, tells him to respond to his texts from at least him and Neil, and he is released feeling very much like one of those animals that were released back into the wild after being tagged.

He texts his grandma later “NVM it wasn’t that bad.”

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an insomniac MC

Julian

No way, him too!

This can go two ways. These two ways are not mutually exclusive

The first is the shared suffering. You're suffering. He's suffering. He will wallow in your suffering with you

He knows how miserable being permanently sleep-deprived is and will take this as his sign to scour his books for sleeping aids

Tests everything out on both of you. Himself first if it seems a little shady

The second is the shared 2 AM hyper obsession with an obscure area of knowledge. Or a passionate debate of conspiracy theories

All it takes is one of you quietly wondering aloud whether faeries use birds in battle the way humans use horses, and if so what kind, for the conversation to take hold

Nobody can come up with theories as rapid fire as he can

Your friends know to be concerned when there is multiple nights' evidence of brainstorming covering loose sheets of paper scattered about the house

Sometimes Julian struggles between being your doctor and your enabler. You will have to decide for him

Every night he tries to fall asleep with you romantically tangled in his limbs. Every night he tosses and turns so much it's impossible

Asra

They cannot relate. At all

He loves sleeping. Sleeping is one of his superpowers. He can fall asleep anytime, anywhere, in any position. He can't image a life otherwise

At first, they try to keep you company whenever you can't sleep, but it quickly becomes obvious that they won't be able to sustain that without also suffering greatly and you hate doing that to him

He also tries getting you to nap with him

They quickly learn that insomnia is not only active at night and that makes you grumpy

There are now three solutions: the first is a series of light sleeping enchantments that he will only use at your request

The second is that they stay up with you during the night to make whatever mischief your heart desires and spend the next day dozing. They tend to travel at night anyways

The third requires some practice, but he teaches you how to enter his dreams. It leaves your body in a sleeping state and lets you spend time together without waking him up

Their dreams are beautiful. They reflect all the marvelous things they've seen, and you're welcomed there with all the love they have for you

He falls asleep with his head or hand on your heartbeat with a smile every night, waiting for you to meet him in his dreams

Nadia

She can relate, for different reasons

It wasn't uncommon for her headaches and prophetic dreams to keep her awake for several nights on end. Being unable to sleep is akin to torture for her

She already has a collection of sleep remedies to try with you. Don't hold back, she will spare no expense to help you rest

She's still getting used to sharing a bed with someone through the night (Lucio had his own wing), but she finds it quite useful to be present for you. And she likes being that close to you for that long

However, there is one small difficulty. She's learned the value of rest the hard way, and because of that she hates being woken up with a passion

The first time you tossed and turned so much that you woke her up on accident, she sent you a full death glare before realizing who woke her up, and how, and why

She still apologizes to you for that

Now she keeps an adjacent chamber stocked with all sorts of calming teas and soothing activities, so you don't have to lie awake completely unloved in the dark

She leaves a light on in there so if she wakes up and can't feel you she can peek over and know you're still nearby

She has the most beautiful voice, and will insist on holding you to her chest as she sings you to sleep each night

Muriel

Sleep was his greatest escape as an orphan on the streets of Vesuvia. Being denied of that escape sounds like cruel and unusual punishment

He's willing to keep you company, but he's a very heavy sleeper and therefore quite difficult to wake up

That, and being woken up is mildly triggering for him. He half expects it to be the gang that used to chase him around

It's easy to underestimate how observant he is. It's not obvious at first, but he's able to quickly pick up on what kinds of days result in a better night's sleep and start subtly nudging you towards them

You fall asleep faster when you've been more physically active. He's inviting you on his patrols around the forest

You get less agitated in the night when you've already done some hard thinking. He collects riddles from Asra and spends evenings solving them with you (nothing so impossible that is keeps you up though)

Your dreams are better when your surroundings are pleasant. He revamps the bed and crafts a few wind chimes to hang outside the window

Inanna keeps you company through the night

He's worried about crushing you, so he just throws an arm over you when it's time to sleep and dozes off to your quiet breathing

Portia

She moves nonstop, all day, every day

Which means that she's one of those people who drops straight into a deep sleep as soon as her head hits the pillow

She's not that hard to wake up, but if she hasn't had her eight hours she's a bumbling, groggy mess

Nobody is more annoyed by this than she is. As sympathetic as she is to your condition, the idea of a powerful magician tortured awake through the night by their own body and mind as they sit broodingly by a darkened hearth is too exciting to pass up

She tries to stay up with you. She really does. She does not succeed

But she can still keep you cozy

She hides little baked treats around the house in Pepi-proof containers with a different riddle for a different location each night

Every morning when she wakes up she checks the box to know right away whether you had a good night's sleep

If you didn't eat it she'll share it with you at breakfast

Pepi is also very comforting. She'll lie on your belly and purr when you can't sleep, or follow you around as you hunt for the pastries in the night

Portia's an aggressive cuddler whose hold gets tighter as the night progresses. It can take quite some effort to escape

Lucio

Staying up late? Hell yeah, it's party time!

What do you mean you don't like being awake late? What do you mean you have trouble sleeping??

Staying up late is easy for him, but so is sleeping in. He has no idea what chronic sleep deprivation is like and is incapable of wrapping his head around it

He starts to get a better picture the more time he spends around you. You're obviously miserable after rough nights and you always look better after getting a nap in

The only way he knows how to make people sleep is by knocking them out, and he doesn't want to do that to you

He's tempted to suggest drinking heavily every night but that sounds like an oopsie just waiting to happen

But he wants to do something

So he relentlessly tells you to stop and sleep whenever you show the slightest signs of exhaustion and guards you from anything that could wake you

This includes throwing a fit every time you yawn and don't immediately lie down

It also includes him carrying light-blocking material in his pack, asking every traveling doctor about sleep aids, and keeping Mercedes and Melchior from playing too loudly while you nap

He prefers to be the little spoon, but he'll switch it up if it'll help you get comfy

[princelylove]

Good evening my prince, I want to start off with my gratitude. You're one of the few that have an accurate description of the characters in dead dove/yandere situations. Thank you! I love seeing your post.

onto my take, cannibalism as a metaphor for love. There is something romantic about being eaten by another or unknowingly/forced to consume flesh. Your captor is selfish, the tiny scraps of affection they get from you is addicting. They want to swallow you whole, but if they devour that love, you will no longer live. A double-edged sword, I want both of our bodies to melt and mix together, but I will no longer be able to see your drowsy face in the early morning, coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. it's a constant battle, should I eat them and be done with it? or maybe take smalls nibbles throughout the months and wait until this phase goes away?... or maybe just prepare themselves so that you can feast on them instead.

"Crawl inside this body - find me where I am most ruined, love me there."- Rune Lazuli

My question is there any characters that you think can apply to this? does not have to be obvious (Narciso), Maybe they are better at keeping to themselves or just simply being too "normal' to behave this way?

Ohhh, cannibalism. How lovely. The desire to feast, and the desire to give yourself entirely to your partner, are not dissimilar. It's born from love, or at least appreciation.

You want it, but it's not happening. You offer yourself on a silver platter just to be ignored, even if you took the time to wrap yourself in ribbon and garnish that your love would appreciate.

They just don't want it. They're not hungry, they don't like the taste, they find the idea itself unappealing. It's torture. It counts as cruel and unusual punishment. Can you really blame them for finding small ways to make you eat them? Encouraging you to bite during sex, putting their hair into your food and saying "Oopsies!" when you obviously pull it out, scratching their arm over your food so their dead skin falls off and onto it and hopefully you never find out, they're pretty desperate, but not very creative with it.

Well, some are. Perhaps that's a different topic entirely.

It's safer to deal with someone that wants to be consumed. You won't have to look over your shoulder, you won't need to lock your door at night. You might be able to get away with gnawing on them every once in a while and calling it a day, maybe. They tend to be rather submissive, and love the attention that comes with being consumed.

It's different when you want to eat and want to be eaten, even if the desire comes from the same place. Someone who wants to eat you will never give you food that's been tampered with. If anything, they'd feed you the best. Well balanced meals that are actually good for you, with treats to keep you happy.

You have to feed pigs well or the taste just isn't right, but you knew that, didn't you?

Sometimes you think that Yoshikage cooks for you and encourages a certain lifestyle because he has ulterior motives. You're right. What's the point of killing you if your hand rots immediately, or if it isn't healthy enough to cut off in the first place?

He doesn't want yellow nails, he doesn't want dry skin, he doesn't want a project. Well. He's working on the project now, so he doesn't have to later.

Sometimes, when you look at him like you're grateful he's taking care of you, he gets the urge to not let the rest of your body go to waste. After all, when you kill an animal, you're supposed to use all of it. He read that somewhere, once. Isn't it such a shame to blast the rest of your corpse when he's always loved the taste of fresh meat?

That, and he may be starting to develop actual feelings for you. How rare! He fights the urge to take your life every second of the day. It's actually extremely frustrating!

You'd cease to exist, you'd be away from him... well, your hand would stay with him and your body would stay for however long his digestive system would like to hold you. He spends about an hour figuring out how to log your the calories.

It's just something he thinks about doing, and something he'll debate until he eventually snaps and allows for it to happen. Honestly, he'd probably snap randomly, so there's really nothing his darling could do to see it coming.

For him, it's less about possession, and more of an inclination. A natural instinct. He just can't help it, to Yoshikage, killing his darling is like clipping his nails or preparing meals for the rest of the week.

Narciso is very eager to possess his darling. He doesn't want to share, he doesn't want to acknowledge that his darling has their own thoughts and feelings on the matter. He's selfish. His goal is to love his darling, to see them do what they do best, but honestly, that's only if they're still his. He can't handle it any other way, and why would he? You're supposed to be his, he already loves you so so so so so so much, why can't you just accept him?

Sometimes he has it in his mind to kill you. Simply. Maybe it would be easier if you weren't alive, he'd just try to keep your corpse safe and sound for as long as he can. It's unfair. It's cruel. It's like whatever divine power is out there is laughing at him.

But you're so sweet. Not literally, you can be quite cruel to him, but you're just so... you make him so happy, just being there. Being yourself, breathing, ohhh, he loves seeing your chest rise and fall and thinking about how you have little organs in there, you're just so adorable. He'll often stay awake at night just to watch his darling breathe. He loves you. Very much.

So it agitates him whenever he sees his darling existing without him. What's the point if he doesn't have you all to himself? He'd merge with you if you could, it's unfair that he's all the way over here and you're all the way over there, why can't he break your skin and crawl inside?

He usually gets it out of his system by biting, and kissing, and inhaling directly against his darling's skin. Oh, and penetration. Penetration is pretty good too.

[riddlemethis-or-riddlemethat]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH

here's a shitpost about the boys at a Hogwarts version of pride, and my headcanons of their sexualities!!

***

I see Tom as being demisexual + gay, but he probably only likes the one guy, and doesn't care about anyone else, so he might just be attracted to only them

Lorenzo I see as being pansexual, idk he just gives me the vibes, I feel like he would try to romance a brick wall if he could

My brain tells me that Theo should be bisexual or pansexual, but my heart is SCREAMING that my boy is GAY

Now, Mattheo is just obvious. that boy is BISEXUAL. he IS the bi in bitch. every fibre of my being yells at me that he is BI BI BI

***

Tom: dressed exactly the same as normal, but he has a small pin on his cloak, right beneath his Head Boy badge. he sends a bunch of homophobes to detention in the worst possible punishments (it's practically bordering on cruel and unusual torture) Enzo: absolutely DECKED OUT in rainbows and glitter, this man becomes a walking talking flag on the first day of pride. he's so loud about it as well, my man is out and PROUD. Theo: didn't realise it was pride month until Lorenzo threw glitter in his face, doesn't really care, but lets Enzo dress him up, as long as he doesn't touch his hair. celebrates with Enzo, they go fucking crazy, it's like a party. Mattheo: wraps a flag around his shoulders like a cape, and REFUSES to take it off under any circumstances for the entire first week, not even for Quidditch. and you best believe he beats up homophobes.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Mega Demon: Blue and Yellow

Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Bart Allen & Jenni Ognats Words: 2495 On Ao3 Summary Max told Bart that he absolutely, under any circumstances, was NOT allowed to enter the Mega Demon Championship because it would be 'cheating'.

Jenni decided spending time with Bart and making memories with him while stranded in the 1990s was more important than obeying Max and enters them both in the championship. But do they really have that button mashing skills to win? Can they also evade Max's suspicions? Find out!

Excerpt

That snapped Bart out of his gloom, his eyes still flat as he leaned back into the sofa. “M’fine. It’s just the Mega Demon Championship. Really wanted to compete but Max said ‘no’ and I gotta do what Max says!”  “Why did he say no? It seems pretty harmless, and we play Mega Demon all the time! You’re good at it!” Jenni got off of the floor to sit next to her cousin, she couldn’t help herself and she ran her narrow fingers through his thick auburn hair.  “I’m not just good at Mega Demon. I’m great at it!” Bart lamented and Jenni knew there was a rant to follow. “He thinks we use our powers to play! I tried to tell him our speed is no good in videogames, but he won’t listen! Says if I enter it’s cheating because I have an unfair advantage.” Bart scoffed then turned the television off with the remote, the screen crackled with static before it dimmed. “He doesn’t get how much I haveta slow down to play!” “And entering is really important to you, isn’t it?” Jenni asked, she still had her hand in his thick hair and felt him nod.  “I can’t play basketball, football, soccer ball, baseball and no cheerleading, I got kicked out of chess since the rook incident, and golf is cruel and unusual torture.” Bart listed off his fingers. “Golf. Max wanted me to play golf! Do you have any idea how boring a game golf is?”  “I don’t know what any of those are,” Jenni admitted. “But I’ll take your word for it. Hey, what do you need to do to enter this competition?”  Bart became a flicker of yellow when he bolted to grab a newspaper from the dining room table. When he came back he had it open to the exact page that mimicked the commercial from earlier. “It’s being held at the local Blockbuster here in town this Saturday. You just need to fill out their form.”  “Saturday is only two days away!”  “Yeah, and then it will be no days away and then yesterday!” Bart folded the newspaper and Jenni watched him put it back on the table. Biting her lip she made an impulsive decision and fell into white lightning and was gone. “Grife! It’s not fair! I can’t help it if I was born like this, I feel like I’m being punished just for being a speedster! Grife!” He turned around dramatically just in time to have Jenni show back up in crackles of white. “Woah, where did you go?”  Grinning, Jenni held up the white sign-up sheet. “Blockbuster right? The place Helen took us to rent Star Trek VII right?” Bart nodded and then it clicked, Jenni watched as his eyes sparkled.

This was written for the @flashfamevents Relay Race Flash Zine. Now I provide it all for you to enjoy.

Please let me know if you enjoyed it!

I had to lock down all my fics to registered users only due to AI Scraping.

[dixbolik-lovers]

For the smut asks: headcanons for human/sacrifice au, the sakamaki brother’s master is sadistic and uses them however they please, but the whole time they’re kept in chastity cages, even while being fucked they’re not allowed to get off. It isn’t until they’ve been there for weeks that their master finally unlocks them and let’s them feel it, telling them that they’ve decided they earned it and can keep it off as long as they’re good

This'll be for Human Au! o3o

. . .

Shuu

This has to qualify as cruel and unusual punishment. Shuu is highly frustrated by the enforced denial, but there's not much he can do about it without showing a lot more distress than he wants to. He resigns himself to putting up with the discomfort and painful arousal— but before long, he's gotten so desperate that passively letting you do as you please is no longer an option. It's humiliating, but he'll be far more cooperative if it means having the cage off and being allowed to come properly, for once.

Reiji

He's absolutely humiliated by the very idea of a chastity cage; do you think he has such little self-control that such a measure is necessary? Reiji wants to think he's above the intended effect of such a device... but after he's been fucked a few times without a scrap of release, his libido catches up with him. By that point, he's sobbing if you go to remove the cage, promising to be good so long as he doesn't have to feel the pinch of the bars again or have to wait out the awful frustration every time you're done with him.

Ayato

He pitches a terrible fit about the whole thing... which just makes you decide to keep the cage on for longer. Ayato whines endlessly about how miserable he is, but before long, his arrogant demands to have the thing taken off turn into something a lot closer to begging. Even worse for his pride, he soon reaches a point where he's coming dry just from being fucked. Those orgasms are never satisfying enough to make the ache in his dick go away, but they still leave him utterly wrecked compared to no relief at all.

Kanato

Expect lots of crying and tantrums about how badly it hurts to have his dick locked up. Kanato can't stand the discomfort of it, and looking down at his caged cock leaves him in frustrated tears every time. With his high libido, though, getting fucked to the point of leaking without ever getting hard is the exact kind of torture to correct his bratty attitude a bit. By the time you take the cage off, he'll be rubbing his thighs together and sobbing over how badly he wants you to let him come for real, this time.

Laito

With his high sex drive, a chastity cage is utter torture. And Laito doesn't take it well. Even though you don't let him get off properly, when his body gets desperate enough, he ends up having dry orgasms just from being fucked— or the kind where he leaks, entirely untouched, through the bars of the cage and gets no real relief. By the time you take it off, Laito is frantic and needy enough to be very good indeed. Denying him for long enough is a good way to earn some far more cooperative, eager behavior.

Subaru

The very idea of you locking up his cock like this is so humiliating that Subaru is debating if the punishment for fighting back would be worth it. In the end, his better judgment wins out, and he's stuck with persistent, infuriating levels of arousal that make it impossible to concentrate. The cute thing is that enough time spent worked up and left desperate starts making him stupid; all dazed and disoriented as his lust gets the better of him. And he is desperate enough to behave once you take the cage off.

Kino

Prepare for one highly whiny brat to deal with. While it's obvious that he's miserable, Kino doesn't make it easy for you, either. He's agitated enough to start making stupid choices... but once he reaches the point of coming dry when you fuck him, he's ready to beg for any kind of release. He'll cover his caged cock with his hands when you fuck him, too embarrassed to let you see it bouncing uselessly between his legs. When you do allow the cage to be off, he's at least trying to behave a little better, for once.