#val di non

[mbeyondthegrave]

[der-saisonkoch]

Der Tag – Blogschau – Südtirol

Arbeiternachrichten vom: 23.06.2024-1 Gestern habe ich auf der Brenta einen Haufen flache, offene Droschken für 1 Mio aufwärts gesehen. Man wollte etwas golfen. Die Nutten waren sämtlichst halb bekleidet. Jeder Muslim würde sich umgehend die Augen zu halten. Wohl eher in dem Wissen, schönes, kluges Fleisch würde sie nicht unbedingt stören. Aber dieser Anblick. Und der Geruch….Naja. Die…

[8gladysworld8]

Castle Thun (Castel Thun) March 2023 Trentino Italy | Amazing Castle in...

[saveriopepe]

Mete trentine di primavera

Pasqua e i ponti tra aprile e giugno diventano occasioni per una vacanza scegliendo tra musei, festival, enoturismo, pedalate sulla rete delle ciclabili, passeggiate tra le fioriture e nella natura che si risveglia Giornate che si allungano, ore in più di luce e un tiepido sole che invitano a muoversi, a uscire, a tornare a viaggiare seguendo le proprie passioni e per andare alla scoperta di…

[harrowscore]

io comunque a sto punto penso che per l'adattamento di WH con la coppia (piuttosto improbabile) robbie/elordi ci stiano trollando, perché mi fa paura pensare che si possa essere così intenzionalmente ottusi

[magpieddd]

Abbastanza ingenuo da parte mia pensare che questo fandom non avrebbe avuto i soliti drammi pro vs anti shipping, ma che ci puoi fare (<- sto per spararmi in testa)

[c0rpsedemon]

my naming scheme for the resurrectionists causes me undue stress a lot of the time but when it works it Works

[klimt7]

La difficile strada che porta a perdonare sè stessi

NOTA:

Un grande abbraccio e un ringraziamento a "disegnisottovuoto" per l'autorizzazione a pubblicare alcuni dei suoi lavori.

.

[il-giardino-del-castello]

Ho postato 137 volte nel 2022

Sono 30 post in più del 2021!

6 post creati (4%)

131 post rebloggati (96%)

Blog che ho rebloggato di più:

@animepopheart

@retrogamingblog2

@negaitomirai

@pinkfairiesteaparty

@princessesfanarts

Ho taggato 135 dei miei post nel 2022

Solo 1% dei miei post non aveva tag

#val sm mostri tascabili - 36 post

#val sm vocaloid&co - 24 post

#val sm originalia - 16 post

#val sm dafaq - 15 post

#val sm planetario - 9 post

#val sm giochivideo - 9 post

#val sm bar - 9 post

#val sm lady coccinella - 8 post

#val sm incanto - 8 post

#val sm coseacaso - 7 post

Longest Tag: 61 characters

#il punto d'incontro tra un disney villain e un barbie villain

I miei post migliori nel 2022:

#5

Serie anime viste & (piùomeno) commentate nel 2021~

[ 2020 (ARGH!) ]

[ ☆ ]

🗹 Bungou Stray Dogs Wan! [12 episodi]

🗹 Rozen Maiden Zurückspulen [13 episodi]

🗹 Oh, Suddenly Egyptian God [10 episodi]

☐ Miraculous World: Shanghai - La leggenda di Ladydragon [Film TV / Episodio speciale 3 in 1]

🗹 Hetalia: World★Stars [12+3 episodi]

🗹 Tropical~Rouge! Pretty Cure (1° cour) [17 episodi/?]

🗹☆ The Case Study of Vanitas (parte 1) [12 episodi]

[ ☆ ]

🗹 Asagao to Kase-san. [Film]

🗹 Given [11 episodi]

🗹 Bloom into you [13 episodi]

🗹 Umibe no étranger [Film]

☐ Adachi to Shimamura [12 episodi]

🗹 The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window [12 episodi]

🗹 Konohana Kitan [12 episodi]

➝ Rewatch nostalgico (?)

🗹/☐ DRAMAtical Murder [12 episodi + 1 OAV]

🗹 Gravitation [13 episodi]

0 note - Postate 18 luglio 2022

#4

Anime BL/GL visti a fine anno (!)

Per qualche motivo, a me il Natale ispira BL/GL. Sarà perché spesso, negli anni passati, mi sono ritrovata a vedere/leggere BL/GL (Più BL che GL, che sono merce rara) a Natale/nel periodo di Natale. Sta di fatto che, quest'anno, ho deciso di fare una piccola "maratona" di anime BL/GL: una serie/film al giorno per tutto il periodo natalizio-capodannese (?).

Tutto è partito dal mio essermi rivista Gravitation, perché mi andava. (Ancora prima, tutto è partito dalla Nitro+CHiRAL, da io che mi sono rivista DRAMAtical Murder e da lì che ho deciso di riguardarmi un vecchissimo anime BL.)

Listone di AnimeClick alla mano, sono andata a scegliermi BL/GL recenti - Anche per, tipo, rimettermi in pari. Tipo. (?) Li ho scelti a sentimento (?) ma, a ben vedere, si possono dividere in pseudocategorie:

Gravitation ↔ Adachi to Shimamura

Il primo semplicemente perché lo volevo rivedere - E da qui è partita la mia idea di fare una mini-maratona BL/GL. Il secondo perché mi sembrava potesse essere un po' "sopra le righe", o comunque "particolare" come Gravitation (In realtà no, per niente, neanche alla lontana, ma vabbè.)

Asagao to Kase-san. ↔ Umibe no étranger

Due film animati slice of life.  

Given ↔ Bloom into you

I Titoli Più Popolarissimi Del Momento quando si parla di BL/GL.

Konohana Kitan ↔ The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window

Due serie fantasy/sovrannaturale.

E questi sono i miei pareri!

.

🗹 Gravitation

[ REWATCH! ]

Lo commentai nel 2012, e sono stata felice di vedere che i miei pareri non sono cambiati!

(Anzi, dopo anni, ho realizzato che, sì, Touma e Mika erano super in guardia con Yuki e lo stavano tenendo d'occhio per evitare facesse cose strane...) (E Ayaka continua ad essere schizofrenica.) (Date una medaglia ad Hiro.)

.

🗹 Asagao to Kase-san.

[ あさがおと加瀬さん。| Kase-san and Morning Glories. ]

[ OAV/Film | 2018 | Studio: ZEXCS | Inedito ]

[ Fluff, Zucchero&Miele, Slice of life, Girl's Love ]

Un film... puccio. La storia di Yamada, Kase e campanule varie non si può che definire adorabile. La grafica è fantastica, ma la cosa che più colpisce di questo film è che le protagoniste stanno già insieme: quel che narra la storia è il come affrontino questo primo amore, come approfondiscano un legame già esistente, il tutto in modo naturale e delicato, senza Drammoni TeVVibili o dubbie trovate di angst gratuito per speziare la situazione.

Prima di vedere il film sarebbe meglio vedere l'ONA musicale (di sette minuti) del 2017, che riassume gli eventi che hanno portato Yamada e Kase a mettersi insieme. Molto cute-super fluff anche quello, ovviamente.

.

🗹 Given

[ ギヴン ]

[ 11 episodi | 2019 | Studio: Lerche | SUB ITA su Crunchyroll ]

[ Musicale, Hurt/Comfort, Boy's Love ]

Guarda il post completo

0 note - Postate 18 luglio 2022

#3

Grazie per chi mi hai fatto incontrare. Grazie per ciò che mi hai fatto trovare.

0 note - Postate 8 luglio 2022

#2

Anime visti nel 2021: corti comici, bambole darkettone, vampiri francesi scenografici, pesci e momenti di straordinaria demenza

In teoria, avrei deciso di fare commenti più brevi, ma a volte chiacchiero più del previsto. Evvabbè. (Non mi va più di mettere le immagini, cioè, così non c’è il limite di dieci a botta, tipo. Noncheiomistiaspaccandodianimeeh-)

🗹 Bungou Stray Dogs Wan!

[ 文豪ストレイドッグス わん！]

[ 12 episodi | 2021 | Studio: Bones, Nomad | SUB ITA su Crunchyroll ]

[ Slice of life demenziale fantasy ]

L'attesa per la quarta serie di BSD si faceva sentire, il manga era ancora in pieno strazio MA la primavera ha donato Sua Maestà Stormbringer e la serie che più di tutte mostra i personaggi per come sono davvero. Grazie per averci illuminato, signorina Neko Kanai. Grazie per averla animata, studi Bones e Nomad. Questa è la serie di cui avevamo bisogno, in quel periodo più che mai, e che ci meritavamo. Ne faremo tesoro. (!?)

Nota speciale per il fatto che venga canonizzato (????) che la Soukoku faccia pet play. Dazai era stato poco chiaro, in merito.

.

🗹 Rozen Maiden Zurückspulen

[ ローゼンメイデン | Rozen Maiden ] [Il sottotitolo “Zurückspulen” (Riavvolgimento) è presente solo nelle versioni oltreoceano.]

[ 13 episodi | 2013 | Studio: Deen | Inedito ]

[ Fantasy, Bambole, Psicologico, Quando vuoi incastrare una storia più matura in un tuo vecchio lavoro ]

Serie che dovevo vedere dall'alba dei tempi, più perché avevo visto tutto il resto di Rozen Maiden che per altro. Basata sulla seconda serie del manga, Rozen Maiden II (!), il primo episodio riassume velocissimamente il canon cartaceo per garantire a tutti che la vicenda di Barasuishou fosse filler.

Devo confessare di averlo per metà abbastanza apprezzato, per l'altra metà... temo di essere tragicamente fuori target. L'"inizio alternativo" mi è piaciuto molto, trovo il Jun adulto di gran lunga più interessante di quello bambino, ma comprendo che possa trattarsi, appunto, di pura questione di target.

In generale, non so, mi ha dato l'idea che le Peach-Pit, ormai cresciute, volessero ficcare a forza tematiche più adulte in un loro vecchio lavoro, invece di crearne uno nuovo. Non riesco davvero a togliermi quest'idea, perché è una sensazione che ho sentito durante tutti gli episodi-

Comunque, Shinku e Suigintou continuano ad essere le migliori. Suiseiseki mi piaceva, ma in questa serie appare pochissimo e in scene non tanto inutili quanto "se le togliamo, alla trama principale non frega granché". Al contrario, Kanaria, che per me era sempre stata l'apoteosi dell'inutilità, qui serve a qualcosa.

Poi... non so se sia colpa della trasposizione o del manga, ma ci sono dei "colponi di scena" talmente ovvi che non so da che parte possano definirsi tali - Tipo, considerato che le bambole defunte sono Hinaichigo e Souseiseki, di chi sarà mai il corpo di Kirakishou se non è di Hinaichigo?

.

🗹 Oh, Suddenly Egyptian God

[ とーとつにエジプト神 | Toutotsu ni Egypt Kami ]

[ 10 episodi | 2020-2021 | Studio: Typhoon Graphics | SUB ITA su Crunchyroll ]

[ Parodia, Mitologia, Per bambini ]

A parte che la grafica e i colori sono supercarini. A parte che qualsiasi prodotto (fatto con cognizione di causa) sull'Antico Egitto è il benvenuto. A parte che il protagonista è Anubis, ché i giapponesi non hanno questa bizzarra idea scolpita nella pietra di lui come Supremo Antagonista Di Tutto Ciò Che È Egizio. A parte che l'unico difetto che mi venga da attribuire a questa serie è che, nei primi episodi, Medjed sta un po' troppo in mezzo alle balle anche quando non serve, solo in virtù della sua popolarità in Giappone. A parte che la disputa di Horus e Seth resa come poliziotto & phantom thief è pura genialità.

Bastet è quanto di più gatto esista.

.

☐ Miraculous World: Shanghai - La leggenda di Ladydragon

[ Miraculous World: Shanghai - La légende de Ladydragon ]

[ Film TV / Episodio speciale 3 in 1 | 2021 | Studio: Zagtoon, Method Animation | ITA/SUB ITA su Disney+ ]

[ Majokko, Supereroi, Azione, Commedia, Sentimentale ]

Guarda il post completo

0 note - Postate 10 gennaio 2022

Il mio post numero 1 del 2022

Anime visti a Gennaio/Febbraio/Marzo 2022

(Ché c’è una lista anime da sfoltire!)

[ Servamp | Planetarian: Snow Globe | Sekaiichi Hatsukoi: Proposal Arc | Given: Untitled | Given: Uragawa no Sonzai | Free! Road to the World - Dream | La donna chiamata Fujiko Mine | Inuyasha - The Final Act ] || [ Kimetsu no Yaiba ] || [ Kekkai Sensen & Beyond ]

Gennaio

🗹 Servamp

[ サーヴァンプ ]

[ 12 episodi | 2016 | Studi: Brain's Base, Platinum Vision | Edito da Yamato Video, ma indisponibile ovunque ]

[ Botte Fantasy, Shounen, Vampiri ]

Sapevo dell'esistenza di Servamp, ma non avevo mai approfondito. Un bel giorno, Tayr se l'è visto e mi ha detto che era carino, così l'ho messo in lista. Non ricordo per quale motivo ad inizio anno ho deciso di darci un'occhiata, ma è successo.

Servamp è effettivamente carino. Un fritto misto potente - molto potente - di Loveless e Soul Eater, con Kuroshitsuji di contorno e una spolverata di D. Gray-man. A volte, però, questi richiami sono un po' troppo forti, e abbiamo cose che variano dalla coppia Eve/Servamp che riecheggia i Sacrifice/Combattenti (Complice anche il fatto che uno dei protagonisti sia nekomimi), a Tsubaki e al subconscio di Kuro dall'estetica Souleateriana/Dgraymaniana dei primi tempi, a cose ben più fastidiose per l'occhio come un Grell 2.0 fatto e finito sia di design che di carattere. Capisco le ispirazioni, però spesso la grafica degli episodi dà un'idea di già visto e di poca personalità. Ma, per fortuna, ciò non è destinato durare: basta azzeccare i personaggi ed ecco che Servamp si guadagna la sua identità!

Il design gattoso di Kuro è stato fatto appositamente per istigare grida di "Ommioddioccheccarinoooo!" e, almeno con me, ci riesce all'istante. Al di là di ciò, Kuro è molto carino anche come personaggio, e tutta la parte finale dedicata a lui l'ho trovata coinvolgente e molto ben fatta.

L'arrivo di Licht e Lawless è la benzina che serviva per far partire Servamp - Difatti, un po' triste a dirsi per il povero Mahiru, rubano tutta la scena senza troppa difficoltà.

Può sembrare strano dirlo dopo un'introduzione del genere, ma una cosa interessante di Servamp è l'originalità di certi dettagli: Tsubaki è completamente fuori di testa, ma non mancano scene più leggere o di autoironia; il passaggio di Lawless al Team BuoniH non cancella automaticamente tutto quello che ha fatto, e il ragazzo sopravvissuto al suo massacro ha tutte le ragioni del mondo per mandare all'aria l'operato del Team BuoniH, se questo si affilia a Lawless; Lily sarebbe il Servamp della Lussuria, ma è inteso più come Servamp dell'Amore, tutti i tipi di amore, e si vede persino un amore genitoriale nel suo stormo di bimbi adottati come Subclass.

C'è poi l'estetica della coppia Mahiru-Kuro: una scopa volante, una sorta di bacchetta magica, un gatto nero - L'estetica da stregone, come dice Mahiru stesso, era chiamatissima. Mi è piaciuto un sacco anche il mantra di Mahiru sulla semplicità e il modo in cui lo mette in pratica (La fuga dal C3 ha un che di bellissimo e geniale, sia a livello simbolico che, uhm, pratico), il suo fare le cose per primo perché sennò non le farà nessun altro. Non è una cosa che ho visto spesso, e mi ha fatto piacere vederla!

... Non fosse che, al tempo stesso, trovo che Mahiru sia uno dei più grandi difetti di questo anime. Partendo dal design: ho capito che vuole riflettere la sua semplicità, ho capito che è fatto apposta, ho capito che così la sua semplicità risalta di più in un mare di design più particolari, ma... resta il fatto che è assurdamente banale, a livelli di comparsa sullo sfondo. Capisco il senso, ma non riesco a farmelo piacere - Soprattutto se accostato ad un'estetica azzeccatissima come quella dello stregone e del gatto nero. Oltre il design, però, Mahiru mi ha fatto spesso storcere il naso per il suo essere un generatore di frasi fatte da shounen anni '90-'00. Ogni sua singola frase deve contenere almeno una parola a scelta tra "amico", "alleato" o "nemico", il tutto senza la benché minima vergogna: sembra di vedere un anime in cui tutti fanno ciò che devono e poi spunta un tizio a caso a sbrodolare frasi fatte uscite da una parodia di un manga di Jump. Non c'è da stupirsi, poverino, che la scena gli venga costantemente rubata da Kuro, Sakuya, Licht e soprattutto Lawless-

Infine, il lato sonoro! Le sigle mi piacciono, la opening è degli OldCodex (E sì, è di quelle che si sposano benissimo con l'anime di riferimento, lol) e Tatsuhisa Suzuki stesso doppia Tsubaki. Un cambiamento gradito, dato che da Makoto Tachibana era stato condannato a doppiare tutti gli pseudoyandere sorridenti dell'universo in barba al suo timbro molto particolare. (Sì, si rimane sempre in ambito yandere, ma almeno Tsubaki ha i popcorn che gli esplodono in testa.) Il cast è ridicolmente stellare: Takuma Terashima (Che però fa una voce carina e non fAiga, ma ci stava (???)), Yuuki Kaji (Sempre più versatile), Tetsuya Kakihara, Yuuki Ono, Nobunaga Shimazaki, Kenjiro Tsuda, Ryouhei Kimura, Junichi Suwabe, Yoshitsugu Matsuoka, Kaito Ishikawa, Wataru Hatano, Hiroshi Kamiya, Yoshimasa Hosoya, Daisuke Ono, Hikaru Midorikawa... vabbè, avete capito. Menzione speciale per Ayumu Murase, il ragazzo dalle mille voci che non so perché non sia ovunque, quindi mi fa sempre piacere trovarlo da qualche parte. Non so perché abbiano dedicato tanta cura proprio al comparto sonoro, ma di certo non mi lamento.

In conclusione: un anime carino, forse tratto da un'opera prima che non fa segreto delle sue ispirazioni - A volte, forse, in modo anche eccessivo. Il protagonista devoto alla semplicità e che si nutre solo di Weekly Shounen Jump potrebbe far storcere il naso, ma questa storia ha il pregio di essere corale, quindi non c'è mai il rischio di fossilizzarsi su di un unico personaggio. In generale, l'anime ci mette un pochino ad ingranare e a trovare se stesso, ma l'attesa viene ricompensata con una storia gradevole e con inaspettati sprazzi di originalità.

.

🗹 Planetarian: Snow Globe

[ planetarian ~雪圏球[スノーグローブ]~ | planetarian ~Yuki Kenkyuu [Snow Globe]~ ]

[ OAV | 2021 | Produzione: Noboru Okuruto | Inedito ]

[ Fantascienza ]

→ Commenti su: [ ~Chiisana Hoshi no Yume~ ] [ ~Hoshi no Hito~ ]

Quante opere derivate che si possono ottenere da una kinetic novel non troppo lunga e non troppo complessa! Non sono una supermegafan di Planetarian, né tantomeno della Key, ma ormai mi ritrovo a non mancare agli appuntamenti con Yumemi e compagnia. Sarà che ho un problema con i planetari - Anche se mai quanto con gli acquari. Ma dicevamo.

L'OAV di Snow Globe esiste grazie ad un crowfunding, e la trovo una cosa carinissima. Mi aspetto lo stesso per Jerusalem e Tircis and Aminte, allora, così si completa la collezione delle storie brevi!

Stavolta la storia è ambientata prima della catastrofe, quando ancora i treni arrivavano in orario e il planetario era in funzione. Il focus è su una delle dipendenti umane del planetario ed è tutto molto slice of life - Basti pensare che l'evento cardine dell'OAV è scoprire dove vada Yumemi quando fa luuuuuuunghe e inspiegabili passeggiate. La risposta ha un che di cute e lol. Tutto l'OAV è molto cute, in realtà, seppur con quelle venature più sinistre - Tipo le proteste violente contro i robot, sullo sfondo ma estremamente presenti. Per tutta la durata dell'OAV ho temuto che, durante le sue passeggiate, Yumemi finisse per imbattersi in uno degli estremisti e finisse fatta a pezzi.

Forse è questo il segreto di Planetarian: raccontare una storia semplice mentre sullo sfondo avvengono cose pesanti.

Ma in tutto ciò... sul serio Tizia non sapeva cosa fosse una snow globe? E soprattutto c'è una traduzione in italiano un po' più precisa di "palla di neve" e più immediata di "palla di vetro con la neve"?

.

🗹 Sekaiichi Hatsukoi: Proposal Arc

Guarda il post completo

1 nota - Postato 18 luglio 2022

Guarda ora l'Analisi del tuo anno 2022 di Tumblr →

[voxaholic]

Valentino has a habit of occasionally just fucking disappearing off the face of Hell, usually for no more than a few days, but sometimes for weeks. It's annoying because obviously, he's leaving her to deal with Vox, but it's equally concerning because one of these days he's just going to get himself actually killed and it's not clear if she'll even be able to find out what happened to him.

For that reason alone, Velvette really wishes she had access to Vox's personalized Val tracking system (aka, access to all security cameras in the seediest areas of pride), because of course that was something he had, but even then, in their weird romantic(?) game of cat and mouse, Val is just really good at not being found when he doesn't want to.

Vox built all his technology (the grid, his spy networks, the company's computer systems) with himself in mind. He didn't design them with a successor in mind– doing such a thing would mean admitting his own mortality and he was 100% petty enough to want to make anyone who may one day overthrow him's job as difficult as possible. There are certain things that simply don't work without him or require someone with a similar power set as him in order to function.

Velvette received quite a sizable boost to her power after Vox transferred his souls to her and is now better at manipulating technology than she's ever been, but she just isn't Vox. She can't run systems built specifically for him as well as he could. She tries to build new ones, but everything is interwoven so tightly that it's incredibly difficult to get rid of one thing without breaking a dozen others. Vox did a great job at weaving himself into every little bit of Hell's technological infrastructure and it's driving Velvette insane.

[jinxed-sinner]

Age gap discourse with Hazbin ships is WILD lmfao. btw the only one of these I've seen personally is Huskerdust age gap discourse but you can literally make this argument for EVERY SHIP IN THE SHOW

"Huskerdust is weird because Husk died when he was in his 60s or 70s and Angel died when he was in his 30s" they've existed for the same amount of time, and Angel's an adult. Let him date the old cat

"Radioapple is weird because Lucifer is thousands of years old and Alastor died in the 1930s in his 30s/40s" THEY'RE BOTH STILL ADULTS.

"Chaggie is weird because Charlie's 200 years old and Vaggie died in the 2010s" Charlie literally acts like a 20 year old, as does Vaggie, and we don't even know if Vaggie dying and becoming an exorcist is still canon???? For all we know she could be OLDER than Charlie lmao

"Staticmoth is weird because Val died in the 70s and Vox died in the 50s" THEY'RE BOTH ADULTS

"Cherrisnake is weird because Cherri died in the 1980s in her 20s and Pentious died in 1888 in his 40s!" NO IT'S NOT THEY'RE BOTH ADULTS.

Literally you can make arguments against any Hazbin ship that amount to "they're both adults but it's STILL WEIRD because of death years" and if you do that, it's bizarre. Every character that's been introduced in Hazbin so far is a whole ass adult (yes even Niffty). Shipping anyone with anyone isn't weird because of age gaps, it's potentially weird because of canon character dynamics lol

i'd also like to point out though that there is a non-zero chance that multiple characters, as they spent more time in Hell, matured more mentally as they gained more (after)life experience. Would their brains change to reflect that? Who knows, but we literally see characters mentally mature in the first season (with Cherri, Angel, and honestly Lucifer being good examples of this)

[onesidedradiostatic]

PATHETIC SHOWDOWN 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

made a pathetic poll before, vox absolutely SWEPT against lucifer last time, pondered on it and thought hey out of all the people who could possibly evenly match up to vox in patheticness, ADAM might have a chance. SO

POINTS (feel free to come up with your own I am grasping at straws here):

Adam

FOR

got cucked by lucifer TWICE

what's more pathetic than getting left by your wife? getting left by BOTH your wives

an actual dudebro

dumb as bricks

just look at him

"HES UGLY" "PUT THE MASK BACK ON"

actually fucking dies

and not even by lucifer by fucking niffty

AGAINST

is actually a really powerful angel who could destroy alastor's shield with one punch and almost killed alastor

mentions that he does in fact fuck in episode 1

could possibly be argued to still have bitches with lute

Vox

some of these may just be copy and pasted from the last one. against will have new points to juxtapose adam though

if you've been around my space long enough you know these well

FOR

lost his own diss track against his rival

sings an entire number about not giving a fuck about his rival's return while being the only person TO give a fuck

tried to physically block a radio, an AUDIO output device as if it'd stop anything, failed at doing even that

his screen calls out the reason for his crashes and he seemingly can't control it

causes a city-wide blackout because his rival announced to everyone he rejected him

there is a non-zero possibility he was/is in love with said rival but said rival will never love him back

purposely avoided going to an overlords meeting and called his co-worker up at the very last minute to attend for him

the guy he appointed as a spy ended up being the very person to prove a sinner can be redeemed

coward who constantly hides behind screens

episode 8

AGAINST

he is capable in literally any context outside of alastor

debuts actually acting cunning

capable of coming up with something on the spot without hesitation (voxtek angelic security)

actually smart (able to interpret val's "put something inside them" comment as appointing a spy)

feared by his employees

well he didn't get left by anyone in an EXISTING relationship... he just got rejected in one that never started

he has bitches (yeah it's valentino but bitches are bitches okay!!)

is in fact not dead

[ghostyeyestohide]

Space & Time

(I Put A Spell On You Part 2)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: Buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), some bisexuality (from m and admission from f), caught kissing (bxb), panic attack, masturbation (m), moaning (m), tension, cussing, drinking, emotions, jealousy, angst, mentioning of climate change, and Non-Canon.

Summary: Valerie and Terrance go to Junior and Hen’s for two nights, where tension builds up between the quartet, specifically Junior and Valerie.

Parts: Part One • Part Three • Finale

A/N: This was supposed to be the one where the threesome happens. But as I was writing this, I realize this is gonna be way too long for it to be one part, hence why I ended up turning this from being a three part series to a four part now. I think I made the best decision as this is like perfect development in my mind (and showing more of my style), so I hope you guys enjoy this one!

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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Valerie adjusts the top of her blue milkmaid dress as the self driving car, carrying her and Terrance, wearing a matching color suit, drives down this empty road.

Surrounded by puddles and dirt, the climate had gotten increasingly worse over the years, the whole forest in the area died due to deforestation, leaving most towns baring it all in the worsing weather every year.

“Do we have to spend two nights? We’re only an hour away.” she asked, looking at him, who was working on his laptop.

“It’s mandatory since he’ll be home in 96 hours. It’s only just to wind him down so we’re prepared to shut him off.” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“And how is she handling it?” she asked, looking down the pan of rosemary-vanilla frosted honey pound cake she’s carrying in her lap.

“Not well. She’s still not understanding, but is accepting it slowly.”

“….how are you holding up?”

“……I had better days.” he sighed, trying to not let his emotions out.

She touches his thigh, gently rubbing it. He places his right hand on top of hers, squeezing it.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I won’t say something you wouldn’t want to hear.”

He looks at her, giving her a small smile before bring her hand to place a kiss on it.

“I’m fine. I swear. It’s…..still brewing. But I think I’ve calm down a bit. He seems even more annoyed with me constantly taking notes and pictures, but I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, I would know. I was so confused when you were doing that as her memories were being uploaded slowly into my head.” she says, chuckling as he rubbed her hand against his face.

“She was like that when we started the preparation for the trip too. Hated the scans, made sure I was noting what she believed was worth including, self conscious about how you were gonna come out…..” he replied, trailing off with the last word.

Terrance lets go of Valerie’s hand, turning his head back to his laptop. She looks ahead, placing her hand back on the pan, thinking if she made a mistake by mentioning her. He doesn’t get emotional about the accident anymore like he used to, but it’s still a soft spot since that was his wife he lost.

“Can you promise me something, Val?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“….depends on what is it.” she replied, looking at him again.

“Its nothing I would put you through. Unless you want to be.” he said, looking at her.

“I thought I can call the shots when you say that?”

He laughs before kissing her softly, grabbing her face in the process. She responds with kissing him back for a few seconds before pulling herself back.

“As much as I would like to take this to the next level, I don’t wanna drop this cake I worked hard on.” she said, lifting it slightly.

“Mmhm. But seriously: don’t reveal your true self to any of them when I’m not around. Its best to keep it private so they don’t freak out or try to do something that might have consequences for all of us. And watch what you say too. Understand?”

Valerie nods in agreement. He gently pushes a few strands of her hair out of her face as he shut his laptop, placing it in his suitcase.

“So where are we moving to now?” she asks.

“That is up in the air as I have requested if we stayed here permanently.” he replied, grabbing one of her hands and holding it in his lap.

“What? Why? We always traveled to the next one when the assignment is done.”

“You seem to enjoy living here more than the previous locations we were at.”

“How would you know? You were only with me a few times since we moved here.”

“Always remember that one of the things I do great at my job is taking notes. And since we’ve been living here, I noticed you feel more calmer, enjoying the quietness and darkness a lot. I mean, you do sit on the porch and crochet as you watch the stars bloom. I never hear you complain about being overheated, uncomfortable, squished in…I see everything, even when I’m focused on work.” he said, tracing his fingers over her hand.

“But you still have to travel to your next assignment. After you said you would never leave me alone out here ever.”

He smiled, making her look at him in a confused way.

“Except, I’m hoping I won’t be doing that much longer. See, OuterMore’s slogan always mention going to space to improve the future. While I do enjoy helping our customers with having a replica taking care of their spouse while the other is in space for two years, I want to move up in the company as I feel I have outgrown this.”

“Like what? Being a board member? CEO?”

“No, no.” he chucked. “A lab analyst. I’ll be looking at tests, data, new files, old files, watching them make the replicas, disabling the old ones, just to name a few.”

“So. Somewhat similar to what you do now, but you’re at the main headquarters?”

“No. I would be at the regional headquarters that’s on the opposite side of the airport we came in at. Which is a two hour drive, meaning I won’t be gone all day or too far from you, my love.” he said, rubbing her face.

Valerie smiled, blushing at the thoughts of them possibly settling down instead of worrying about where they’re going next.

“Hm. I like the sound of that.” she responded with, nudging her face on his shoulder.

“That’s why you have to hope they’ll approve it. I think they will with how much data I provided them with over these last few years. But, like I said about hiding your true self, keep this between us as well.”

“Understood.” she said, nodding slightly.

The couple sat in silence, caressing each other hands as the car turns on a road.

“We will be arriving to your destination in about five minutes.” said the voice of the car, starling Valerie.

“You have got to get use to the car.”

“Hush. I don’t ride in this usually!”

Terrance laughs as he rubs her hip, glaring out of the window as they get closer to Junior and Hen’s.

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A few minutes later, the car pulls into the driveway of a house on farm, with a man working on it, moving hay around. As it got closer, the man’s visibility becomes clearer, revealing him as Junior, who automatically gets annoyed as he looks at the car. Dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans, and brown boots, he drops the batch of hey from his hands, slowly walks over to them.

“He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.” said Valerie as she looked at him.

“On cue as soon as he sees me.” said Terrance.

The car parks in front of the porch, turning itself off before unlocking the door and lifting it up. Terrance steps out first, sending a smile towards Junior before helping Valerie get out, fixing the bottom of her dress.

Soft stomps are heard before the front door swings open. Out comes a young, blond haired woman in a peach button top, a brownish plaid long skirt, and brown knee high boots. She looks at them with an emotionless stare, as if they are trespassing and should leave.

“Good to see you again, Junior and Hen.” said Terrance, gently pulling Valerie close to him.

“We don’t have a choice at this point, do we?” says Junior as he stands next to Hen. Terrance chuckles, nodding at the question.

“Patience is key. We still got a long way to go before you depart for your trip.”

“Well, you and your company hasn’t made it easy for us at all. Just different things every time you show up.” said Hen, looking at him.

“He’s just doing his job with getting everything that’s needed for the replica. He understands that you two are very upset about his selection to go to space and how you feel like you don’t have enough time before he goes, but at the end of the day, this is just his job’s requirements and probably wants to get this done faster so he can be out of your hair.” said Valerie, who is now visibly irritated.

Junior looks at her with curiosity as Hen gives her the death stare, making Val feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Oh, where are my manners! Junior and Hen, this is Valerie. My beautiful wife that I have mentioned quite a few times. She’ll be staying here as well as we do a couple more tests, if you don’t mind.” said Terrance, doing a ‘showing her off’ gesture, with Valerie smiling a little.

Hen nods as she looks at Junior, who is still looking at Valerie with curiosity in his face.

“Luckily, the room is big enough for the both of you and your things, so I don’t mind.” said Hen, forcing a smile.

“Excuse me?” asked Valerie.

“Not like that. I meant if you bought a bunch of suitcases for your things……or some random boxes from your husband’s job.” she said, shooting a look at Terrance.

“If it makes you feel any better, she only brought two.” said Terrance as he turned to take out her suitcases and his.

“As long as she’s not doing random tests or taking notes while watching me do anything, I don’t care.” said Junior.

“Makes you uncomfortable?” asked Valerie.

“A little. I tend to lose focus in whatever I’m doing.”

“….makes sense. You fit it well.”

Junior stares at her, slightly turning red, as Hen shoots her a look while Terrance stares at her in confusion.

“And what is that supposed to mean, Valerie?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just an observation. Tend to take after Terrance sometimes. A natural habit.” said Valerie, staring at Junior.

Terrance lets out a ‘hm’ sound before grabbing the suitcases and walking towards the door.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he said as he walks up the stairs.

The rest followed behind, with Hen running over to open the door and held it for Terrance and Valerie as they walked in, with Hen and Junior following.

After Terrance places their suitcases in their room, he comes back downstairs to the living room, where he takes a seat next to Valerie as Hen sat in one of the chairs while Junior stands, pacing back and forth.

“So. Do you often spend the night or…nights at his assignment’s house?” asked Hen.

“When I was first accompanying him, yes. But, I guess after he completed enough assignments, they started paying for any place we wanted to live at as he worked. That’s been our routine ever since. But, this is also my first time doing this again.” said Valerie as she looked at Terrance, who smiles back at her.

“So….are you in a different city when he accepts a new assignment after he completes the previous or you two move immediately?” asked Junior, who now takes a seat in the other chair.

“The latter. It’s important that the partner/spouse of the agent stays with them as they wait for the two years to go by, examining whatever’s going on up there close by at home.”

“OuterMore takes it seriously. They too can feel when our workers might feel lonely as they travel.” said Terrance.

“Hm. They understand that, but doesn’t seem anything wrong with randomly selecting people to get put on a rocket ship and sent to space as a replica operates their daily lives as if they’re the actual person.” said Junior, looking at Terrance.

“Junior.” Hen whispered.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying cause it’s not fucking normal and he acts like it is!” he said as he stands up, very heated.

Valerie thought ‘hothead’ to herself, noticing a common trait she sees in Terrance’s subjects when talking about this.

“It’s for a better future for the planet. You seen the videos, my explanation, and the many success stories that came out of it. I say it’s very normal as the government approves it.” said Terrance, watching him pace back and forth.

“And you’re fine with what he’s doing? Coming in the middle of the night, telling strangers they been selected to space, disappearing for a while, and then suddenly returns, saying “we need to your measurements, memories, looks, what time you eat, how you shit, how you eat for your replica” constantly? Then when it’s all over, you move onto the next? That’s normal for you, Valerie? Your agent husband rolling into strangers’ house with a deal of a lifetime as you sit home, being oblivious?” he said, standing a few feet from the couple.

Valerie looks at him with a glare in her, processing what he just said to her.

“Junior, that’s enough! That is not how we welcome guests into our home!” said Hen as she got up, staring very anger at him.

“She’s not a guest. Just someone who follows everything he tells her to do.”

Valerie chuckles quietly, trying to find the right words to say without making this moment even worse.

“That is not how you talk to a wo…” Terrance attempts to get up to confront him, but she pulls him down, signaling him to not doing anything that might get him in trouble.

“You know…..I knew it was going to be you, and I mean specifically you, that was going to utter that.” she said, looking at Junior.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You think everything is perfectly fine here, but don’t realize the people you love are suffering around you. But I’m the oblivious one here?”

“Because everything is fine. I’m fine. Hen’s fine. The house is fine. All of this here? Definitely not.”

“Hen is definitely not fine. You just ignored her pleading to stop. In fact, you ignore everything she wants because you think being home and away from downtown is what makes life worth living.” she said as she stands up, placing the cake on the table.

“Valerie, baby, don’t.” mumbles Terrance as he tries to pull her down, but she snatches her arm.

“Oh, so we’re telling secret information to people that shouldn’t be knowing, Terrance? I thought you valued that.” said Junior as he stepped closer, but Hen pushes him back, mumbling “Stop!”.

“He does because he didn’t tell me. The notes on the file did. At least he knows how to value something instead of blowing it off for their own needs.”

“Valerie….” said Terrance, looking at her.

“Oh, so now it’s my own needs?” asks Junior.

“Yeah. Your own needs since you can’t please Hen’s.” says Valerie.

“Please stop.” said Hen, looking at her. Valerie shakes her head before gently moving Hen out of the way to stand in front of Junior.

“No, cause what we’re not gonna do here is let Junior walk all over you, me, and him because he hasn’t found his happiness yet. Which is why he’s very angry, dismissive about everything, and if anything, too possessive. So tell me. What are you hiding behind this tough guy persona, Junior?” she says as she gets in Junior’s face.

Junior looks her up and down, before glancing at Terrance, who sends a glare back at him. Junior leans near her ear, lowering his voice.

“You know he’s been spending a lot of time with my wife, right? Secret meetings, going in town for something, helping her out. You don’t find that worrying? Your husband being around another woman that’s not you?” he whispers.

Valerie looks back at Terrance, who is slowly getting angry and stands up.

“….I’m not dumb and I think you know that. If anything, you should be very cautious with your behavior because I know everything that she doesn’t know. Mentally, physically, and sexually. Especially that night.” she whispers back, glaring at him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Is that a threat? Or is this your way of getting something you want from him?” she asks in her normal voice.

“Why you little….” he says, getting even more close to her.

Hen and Terrance look at each other before getting between the both of them, separating them. Junior reacts by flipping the chair and storming out, starling Hen. Terrance shakes his head before looking at Valerie, who looks down in an impertinent way.

“I told you to watch your mouth.” he says.

“Nothing gets better if you let someone like him walk over you.”

“He’s just uncomfortable.” said Hen.

“Well, he needs to grow up and be a man.”

“That’s just how he is!” she said, now extremely pissed.

“Oh well. This will all be over soon anyway. Oh, and I made this cake for you guys, if you give a damn.” said Valerie as she picks up the pan and carries it to the kitchen.

“Val!” said Terrance.

“Gee, thanks. That will go well with whatever we’re eating after I go grocery shopping as soon as I find Junior!” she yelled, storming out the house.

Valerie rolls her eyes before placing the pan on the counter. Suddenly, she feels a painful sensation from her stomach, causing her to fall on her knees and clenching it as she lets out a painful groan. Terrance rushes over, kneeling down to lift her up.

“Where does it hurt at?! Locate it to me!” he says.

She grabs his hand and places it over her stomach, breathing harshly. The area has a warm feeling that kept rising until it went away, along with the sensation. He stares in confusion, looking up at her, who now had an uneasy expression on her face.

“Seems like you were overheating a bit, but it went away.” he said, rubbing his hand over to check other areas.

“I probably need to rest. My tab is still half full, so I’ll be fine until tomorrow night.” she mumbled, slowly becoming tired.

“I’ll carry you to the room. But I might be gone by the time you wake up. Get some rest, sweetheart…” he says, watching her fall asleep in his arms before carrying her up the stairs.

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A few hours later, Valerie wakes up, breathing hoarsely. She sits up, looks around the low sun setted room, realizing that this is their bedroom. She turns to her nightstand, which has a glass of water, a pill, and a note, written by Terrance, that says:

“Take this when you wake up. It should calm down the shocks and whatever else is aching. Me and Junior went in town to do the grocery shopping for Hen and find something to eat for dinner since it will be little too late to cook. Behave yourself while I’m gone.

- T. “

She smiles, shaking her head at the last part before placing the pill in her mouth and washing it down with the water. She gets up, stretching herself out, before walking towards the window. She looks at the empty ground, with some puddles sparking from the blueish-purple sunset.

She thought about how peaceful it is out here. Not having to hear loud traffic, feeling overstimulated by people moving around, arguing, having sex, loud music overflowing your sounds. Just simply doing anything you like without having to worry about anything.

Walking out with her book, ‘Parable of the Sower’ by Octavia E. Butler, to indulge in the view of the growing night sky, she sees Hen lying on a massive branch, looking out in the distance. She calmly walks up, waves at her before taking a seat about a few feet away on the stump.

There’s silence between the two women for a few minutes before Hen looks down at her, watching her read quietly.

“What are you reading?” she asked, making her break out of her focus.

“Parable of the Sower. It tells a fictional story of a girl growing up in her poor stricken gated community as the world is going to chaos during the 2020s Los Angeles. She wrote this about 30 years before it actually happened, and before our time. Basically predicting it.” said Valerie as she showed the book to her in a better view.

“Like what?”

“Well. Climate change, the economic crisis, social inequality, inflation, escape from forced slavery, useless government, the collapse of cities by its citizens. Just to name the important details. Ms. Butler unfortunately didn’t live long enough to see it actually happen.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of predictions to get right.”

“Yeah. He got this for me when we were staying in Los Angeles for his assignment at the time. Said I would like it since I tend to read books like this. And he wasn’t wrong.” she says, smiling a little. It was one of her favorite things about him: getting her things he knows she would like.

“Were you downtown?”

“Not really. We stayed Hidden Hills. His assignment lived on Mulholland Drive, so he wasn’t too far from me.”

“Must be hard being alone all day.”

“Oh, that depends on where we’re at. I sometimes visit historic places on my own, go to the grocery store, shopping sometimes, or just drive around. With his awareness, of course.”

“He’s not bothered with you doing that?”

Valerie makes a confused face before looking Hen, who is still laying down.

“No. Terrance encourages me to explore the areas we’re around instead of waiting for him. If I’m comfortable with doing that. And then, he wants to hear about it or see it, incase I bought something, when he comes home because he doesn’t like being the only one explaining what he did today.”

“…..and what do you do for a living?” she asks as she sits up, keeping her eyes on her.

“Stay-at-home wife. I read, I crochet, I cook sometimes, bake a lot, clean if the place is messy, relax, listen to music on our vinyl player, and sleep in if I’m too lazy to do anything.”

Hen stares at her, at a loss for words with the information she gave her. Valerie, in her head, is thinking “wow, he’s keeping her locked up and she’s letting him for his love”, about to continue reading her book before she heard her laugh.

“Something funny, Hen?” she asks, looking at her again.

“That sounds like you’re using him. And he’s falling for it.” Hen replies slyly.

“Excuse me?”

“You do anything you want as long as he’s okay with it while he works? He wants to hear about your day so he’s not the only one talking? Showing him stuff you bought and he doesn’t get upset?”

“Why would he be upset if I told him what I did and he’s aware? He likes hearing me talk about anything even if I didn’t do nothing and if I have concerns or I’m not happy, he wants to hear it so he can reassure me or find a solution. Not just give up.”

“Oh, I find that very hard to believe he would be doing all of that for you.” she scoffs, looking away.

Valerie looked at her in an appalling way, couldn’t believe she’s accusing her of lying about what her and Terrance do after a long day. She shakes her head, getting up to leave, but stops and turns around.

“You know….envy doesn’t look good on you when you’re the one causing it. Because you’re the one who’s trying to save your marriage here, it doesn’t mean you have to put me down to get me to suffer in your misery.” she states, glaring at her.

“Oh, fuck you, Valerie. Pretending traveling all over the country so he can get information to make replicas of people going to space to replace their home life while you do absolutely nothing is not normal. Waste of time if anything!” she responded, not looking at her.

“Oh? But….you’re the one….who wants to explore, right? You’re the one with the idea of walking out on him, leaving him in an envelope with a letter that has nothing written, just to show how you thought of your relationship.”

Hen looks up, with a scowl on her face. Valerie smiles evilly, leaning forward.

“Yeah. I heard that part in the files. You two both come from sad backgrounds, it’s amazing you lasted this long.”

“And you think you and Terrance are gonna last longer?”

“We have. Hence why I’m here, right? He loves his job and loves taking care of me because he actually loves me. And you hate that. Cause Junior loves you, but not how you want him to. And that’s why you’re reacting the way you are because when the real one comes back, it’s not gonna be the same. Just this replica is willing to try to make you happy, I’ll give him that.”

“You don’t know me. You only know what I told your husband. That’s why you think you can stand there, give advice something you have no idea about. Just taking after his writing and whatever else included…..Junior’s right. You do follow everything he does because you have nothing to go home to after you’re done using him. I feel sorry for you, having to adjusting things to his liking.” Hen says, shaking her head.

Valerie’s jaw drops, in shocked at what she said to her. None of this is true, but watching Hen’s anger towards Junior make her believe that she’s using Terrance because she has nothing for herself just woke up something inside her that she didn’t have: overwhelmed anger. She walks back slow, keeping her glare up.

“I understand that you want to explore things that he won’t let you do because he’s afraid of losing you, hence why you’re taking it out on me and Terrance. I would suggest leaving him, but based on how you two met and looking around…….can’t really do much. But I’ll leave you with this: slap him one more time and I’ll fuck you up.” she uttered before storming off, walking to the house.

As she gets closer, Junior’s truck, with him and Terrance inside, pulls up. The men get out the car to unload the bags of groceries from the back when they see Valerie walking, not noticing her anger all over her.

“Hey baby. I see you’re enjoying the beautiful night sky out here.” said Terrance as he pulls down the tailgate and grabs a few bags.

“Your wife’s a bitch, Junior!” she yells, walking past them and onto the porch, swings the door open, and walks inside.

Both men look at each other, very confused on what just happened before resuming getting the bags.

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Valerie is sitting on the couch on the porch, reading Parable of the Sower, with the hanging bulbs being used as her lights.

Soft steps are heard until the front door opens, with Terrance walks out, carrying a tray of food and drinks.

“Hey.” he says, gently walking over.

“Hey.” she replies, not looking at him.

“I thought you might’ve been hungry and a little thirsty, so I brought you dinner.” he says as he places the tray on the table before sitting next to her. She looks at it, moving her book to the side.

“We decided on burgers from this local place, so I got you your favorite: a Spicy Jack burger with jalapeños, pepper jack cheese, chipotle mayo, sautéed onions, lettuce, and no tomato & pickles, of course. I wasn’t sure if you wanted the spicy seasoning on your fries, so I asked them to put it on the side. And I got you a Sprite. I just got a regular American and a Coke. Hope you like it.” he said as he places her drink and plate in front of her.

“Thanks, but I’m not that hungry right now.” she replied, going back to her book.

“That’s fine. Just don’t let it get cold.” he says, beginning to eat his food.

She nodded, still reading the page. There was silence for a few minutes, with the sounds of Valerie turn a page occurring a few times. Terrance watches her for a few moments, taking in her be focused on reading.

“…what happen between you and Hen while we were out?” he asked, laying back in his seat.

“Nothing.” she replied, not looking at him.

“You sure?”

“Very.”

“So why are you being dismissive?”

“….I can’t read after I said I’m not hungry?” she replied, now looking at him.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying…..you’re normally talkative. Asking me things. Just….being you.”

“Well, what if I’m not in the mood to be that right now?” she said, going back to her book.

Terrance frowns at that response, looking out in the opening as he thought about his next move that won’t make her mad.

“….did you two do something that you regret? I wouldn’t be mad if that was case, considering you know. We can always erase it.” he says letting out a small laugh.

Valerie, now anger, throws the book on the ground and stands up. She walks in front of the table, pacing back and forth before turning to him.

“Why the fuck would you assume we hooked up while you and hothead were out? Hm? She’s not even my type! Just because you got attracted to her husband, it’s doesn’t mean I’m going for the wife and I hope that’s not what you’re trying to get me to do.” she said, staring very angry at him.

“Valerie, I wasn’t being—“

“Serious? Because wow, that’s a terrible thing to joke about with me. I would never, ever lay next to someone as miserable as she is and you are a disgusting asshole for that…..”

Her voice trails at the end as she leans on the pillar. Suddenly, her chest begins beating fast, creating a painful sensation that it hurts for her to breath. She places her hand on it, trembling onto her knees as Terrance got and races over to her fast.

“Breathe…breathe….breathe.” he whispers to her as he holds her, mimicking a ‘inhale/exhale’ motion.

She follows, wheezing each time as the sensation slowly went away and her breathing was back to normal. Then, she cries, collapsing into him. He pulls her into an embrace, holding her tight as she cried into his chest, letting it all.

“What did she do? Cause this is not normal for you to be crying over and I’m getting very worried.”

She looks up, wiping her tears as she sniffles.

“She said….I’m using you because I have nothing to….to go back to once “this” is done.” she said in weak voice.

“Oh, baby…..” he mumbles, cuddling her.

“I know it’s not true and it’s stupid to throw a fit about…but, my god, it stings! People are so cruel and for what?!”

“It’s just a rough time for them. Just give them some space and they will be apologizing.”

“Fuck their apology.”

“You don’t have to accept it. I’m not gonna force you.”

Valerie lays against his chest, trancing her left hand over his chest before looking at him again.

“How are you so calm about this?” she asks, slightly sniffling.

“I’m used to it.” he shrugs. “If I break, they’re gonna use that as an advantage to do it again and I don’t want. Which is what you need to adapt. Don’t let what Junior and Hen get under your skin more than it should or else, you’re going to be stuck in an endless cycle with it. Ok?”

She nods. He smiles at her before kissing her nose, carefully helping her up and walking back over to the couch, sitting the both of them down.

“Please eat. I don’t want you going to sleep on an empty stomach.” he says, sliding her plate over a bit with her drink.

She smiles a bit before picking up her burger and biting into it. She moans as it still tasted very warm, even after her outburst a few moments ago.

“We have one more night and this will all be over for you.” he says as he picks up her book and places it on the table. He watches her eat as he peered into the window behind him, slightly locking eyes with Junior for a few minutes before he broke them and looked at Hen, who was drinking.

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Valerie is sleeping in the bed with Terrance, constantly moving around as she’s having a nightmare about being separated from him after OuterMore found he violated the policy by sleeping with a subject.

As she’s being held down to the ground by guards while Terrance attempts to get to her while being handcuffed and screaming her name, a man walks up with a needle in his hand. Just as he kneels down in front of her, he begs the man to leave her alone, just take me only. The man ignores, raising the needle high up, and as he is about to inject her..

She wakes up, breathing shakily. Doing the motion he showed her early, she relaxes, with each exhale bringing her back to normal. She looks over at him, who was peacefully knocked out, his light snores filling the quietness of the room.

Feeling very dry in her throat, she quietly gets up and puts on her robe before opening the door carefully and slowly walks down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone up.

She looks both ways before walking into the kitchen, noticing no one’s around. Opening the cabinet door carefully, she takes out a tall glass before walking to the fridge. Opening the door, she grab the pitcher of water and carefully pours it in her glass, filling it until it’s enough. She takes a sip, releasing a quiet moan as the coolness and wetness hit the back of her throat.

As she turns to walk back up to her room, she hears a sound from the living room. She peers in, looking to see if anything catches her eye. “Nothing.” she said in her mind, turning back to the stairs.

“Fuck.” moaned a familiar voice, very quietly.

Looking back in the room, she scans the room once more before landing her eyes on something bewildering that she gasped.

In the one of the living room chairs laid Junior, whose eyes were closed, but his hands? Stroking himself as the moon shined on him. Recreating a scene Valerie saw weeks earlier where he was stroking himself as he watched her and Terrance make love. As much as she was slowly getting aroused by this, guilt filled her mind quickly and she had to do something or it will be very awkward if Hen or Terrance woke up and saw this.

“Junior?” she said, loud enough but not too loud that it wakes everyone up.

Junior opens his eyes, looks at Valerie, and immediately stands up quickly to pulls his shorts up, trying to make this situation less awkward, but failed. He chuckles shyly, not trying to look at her.

“Whatever you saw me doing……you didn’t see.” he says.

Valerie chuckles before walks up the stairs to her room, quietly closing the door, leaving Junior feeling embarrassed.

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A few hours later, Valerie wakes up again. This time, the sun is beaming into the room. She blinks slowly, running her eyes before letting out a big yawn. She touches behind her to see if Terrance was still in bed, only for cold emptiness to hit her hand. She frowns, hoping he was still in bed.

Rising up, she grabs a washcloth and bath towel before walking to the bathroom to shower. After rinsing her body and wrapping it in the towel, she heads back to their room, taking out a long, cream colored, leg slit crochet dress that had an off-the-shoulder top that she made when they were first starting to see each other. After oiling her body, putting sunscreen on, placing her curls in a half up-half down hairdo, and grabbing her crochet bag, she heads down the stairs to sit on the porch and make something.

Just as she’s about to pass the kitchen, a cinnamon sugar scent hits her nose. She walks in, where she sees Terrance chopping onions as Hen was stuffing the turkey with vegetables. She clears her, causing the both of them turn and look at her.

“Oh! Good morning—well, afternoon, Valerie. We didn’t hear you walk in.” he said, walking up to kiss her. “No issues with anything?”

Valerie shakes her head ‘no’ before kissing him, watching him walk back to his position as she looks at the uncooked food spread out across the kitchen.

“Assuming you two are making dinner?” she asks.

“Yeah. Just a simple roasted turkey, mac and cheese, collard greens, rice, mashed potatoes, and cornbread.” said Hen, not looking at her.

“Huh. You may be miserable but you got exquisite taste in food. I’ll give you that.” said Valerie, very amused at the menu.

“Valerie.” said Terrance, eyeing her with a “please drop it” look as Hen scoffs loudly.

“Well. Ima go sit on the porch and crochet a new piece while y’all cook. Its suppose to be very hot, so I thought it would be a perfect weather to sit out and do something.” she said as she turned to leave.

“You’re not gonna eat? I made you some pancakes, scrambled eggs, and some turkey scrapple since we don’t eat pork.” he said as he opened the oven and took out the plate, handing it to her.

“Oh. I didn’t think y’all saved me anything since I woke up late.” she said, gently taking the plate out of his hands.

“No? I always make sure you eat, even if you’re last. Did you want water or OJ?” he asks as he places a fork and knife on the plate.

“I’ll do a water.”

“Hen, do you mine pouring her a glass?”

“No worries.” she replies, taking out a cup before heading to grabbed the pitcher.

“Hothead not up?” Valerie whispers, making sure Hen doesn’t her farm.

“Working on the farm. He seemed a little off today.” Terrance replies in a whisper tone.

“Technically, he is…that.”

“Yeah, but…..he was being nice? He’s not usually like that.”

“Hm.”

Hen walks over to hand her the glass of water, but Terrance takes it from her.

“I’ll carry this for her. Thank you though.”

Hen nods before walking back to the turkey. Terrance walks to the front door and opens it, with Valerie walking out and over to the couch, placing the plate on the table before sitting down and placing the crochet bag next to her. Terrance hands her the water and kisses her forehead before walking back in.

After finishing her breakfast, she began crocheting her new piece: a sun shaped cone bra with a cloud hanging between. Using the colors, yellow, white, and orange to create a three colored pattern, she begins her piece, moving at a modern pace so she doesn’t mess up.

As she’s doing that, she looks up and sees Junior doing work on the farm. From sweeping up the hay to moving wood logs around, he seemingly focused a lot on cleaning, amusing Valerie a lot. After finishing up, he sees her sitting on the porch, working on her piece.

Cautiously, he walks over, taking a seat on the edge of the porch floor, his back facing her. She doesn’t notice him sitting there until he clears his throat and she looks up.

“Hello, Junior.” she says.

“Good afternoon to you as well.” he replies.

“I see you were working hard out there.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm. Seems exhausting trying to keep something clean just for it to get messy by the next day.”

“Yeah. That’s farm life for you.” he says, letting out a stifled chuckle.

She nods, looking down to resume crocheting her bra. There’s an awkward silence between the two for a few moments before Junior turns to face her.

“I wanted to apologize for not only last night, but my behavior towards you yesterday.”

She looks at him, moving her hook and bra to the side.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did since you are only his wife that travels with him on these…..assignments as he calls them. We were talking yesterday as we drove into town and he was explaining everything about you and….I realize you are adored a lot by him. He’s mentioned you a few times since being here, but I never seen him talk about you in a captivating way that it slowly made me think that….maybe I do need to listen to things Hen wants and not put my needs above hers. And maybe this trip to space will save us in the end because I could come back a better husband and caretaker for her instead of fearing of losing her permanently. But, I do apologize and hope you can accept it.” he says, giving her a genuine look

Impressed by this apology from him, she smiles as she thinks of a response. But, the growing guilt of knowing that less than 72 hours from now, the real Junior will be home to rightfully take back his spot, settles in. She feels bad that she can’t tell him, but having the nightmare of being taken away keeps that reminder in tact.

“And, I should check my surroundings before I start pleasuring myself.” he adds, making the both of them laugh.

“Well…..I do accept your apology as it seems very genuine. But, if you’re thinking about taking what Hen wants seriously, you need to do it now before it’s too late. Life’s too short to be distant with each other all the time.”

“Thank you, Val.”

“No problem.”

He gets up and walks to the door. But before he opens it, he looks at Val again.

“….what happen between you last night? You were very….explosive with the bitch part.” he asks.

“All I can say is my intelligence was insulted, which hurts my feelings. And I can careless if her ass gives an apology.” she said, sighing in the process.

“…..I’ll talk to her when she’s done prepping dinner with him. I don’t want your last night here being ruined by what happened yesterday. And I do wanna try that cake you made.”

Valerie laughs, making Junior smile before walking inside the house. Wow. What a change of heart, she thought, resuming work on her piece.

Hours go by and Valerie finishes the bra, which came out very nice and fitted perfectly for her chest. She walks in the house and lays on the couch, deciding to take a hour nap since dinner was currently baking in the oven as Terrance and Junior were upstairs, doing another session. And Hen was….well, Hen.

She was peacefully sleeping when she felt someone gently shaking her, making her open her eyes. As her eyes unblurred, she can tell person in front of her was Hen, now dressed in a red and brown pattern dress.

“Sorry for waking you up. Dinner’s ready and I was wondering if you can go get the men while I set up?” she said, walking back to kitchen.

“Yeah….I’ll get them.” said Valerie, letting out a stretch before getting up and walking upstairs.

She gently knocks on the door, patiently waiting for Terrance to greet her.

No response.

She knocks again, a little louder, thinking this will get his attention.

Once again, nothing.

“Terrance? Junior? Is everything okay in there?” she asks, putting her ear against the door to hear.

Nothing. No movement, no sound, just silence.

She grabs the doorknob, turns it, and hears an unlock sound, signaling it’s not locked. She pushes the door open and walks in.

“Hey, Hen wanted me to tell y’all that dinner is re…..”

Her voice trails off, in shocked at what she sees.

On the bed, against the wall opposite to the window, was Junior and Terrance, passively making out with and rubbing on each other. Junior looks up, sees her standing there, and breaks away, backing up in fear.

“Why did you sto….” Terrance asks, slowly turning his head to see what he’s looking at.

Startled by Valerie’s presence, he gets up slowly, placing his hands in front to calm her.

“Baby, its not what it looks lik—“

“Dinner is ready. She doesn’t want the food to get cold.” she blurted out with a forced smile on herself, holding back tears.

Afterwards, she storms out, slamming the door behind her. She leans against the hallway banister, silent crying. All of those happy memories of them begin playing in her head. From the day they met to their wedding day to romantic dates to making love…..all just coming in to wash over her broken heart.

Wiping her tears, she walks downstairs, heading to the dining room where Hen was placing the turkey in the middle with the rest of the food.

“They….should be down…soon.” she said, clearing her throat as she sat down.

“…..you okay?” she asks, looking at her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seen a little…..flustered?”

“I’m fine, Hen. Really….fine.”

Loud movement is heard before both men entered the room, cautiously pretending they didn’t get caught. Junior walks over to Hen and kisses her head as Terrance sits next to Valerie, gently brushing past her.

“Okay, so we should be ready. I’m just trying to figure out what am I forgetting.” said Hen.

“Drinks, plates, and utensils.” said Junior, looking at the table.

“Shit. I knew it was something important!”

“Come on. I’ll help you get it.” he said, pulling her into the kitchen, leaving Terrance and Valerie alone.

Silence fills the room as Valerie turns away, not wanting to see him.

“So…..when do you want to file to end this? After they approve you?” she asks with a cold tone in her voice.

“Don’t say that.” he replies, turning her seat to face him.

“What? You don’t like the sound of it? Being a divorcee? You don’t mind behaving like one.”

Terrance pulls her seat even closer, bringing down the distance between them. He leans forward, placing his hands on her thighs.

“You know….you’re acting the way she did when we butted heads. Distant. Insults. Not wanting to look at me. Sometimes slapping me if I said something wrong. But, I deserved it. Just like how I deserve you acting the way you are right now.”

“If this is your way of apologizing, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder.” she says, pushing his hands off.

“Which I am. You know I do. After everything we been through and yet, we’re still here.”

“For a reason I’m not gonna say cause I don’t want to hurt you. Hell, I don’t even want to hurt me!” she said, her voice beginning to crack.

Terrance leans back, sniffling a little as he hands her a napkin, with her taking it.

“I don’t know it’s because she never felt this whenever y’all were going through it or this is something else, but I just feel….not me. I don’t know if it’s because of what’s about to happen or I’m missing something that I want but can’t have…” she says, wiping her tears.

“Like what? Another person romantically? Being on your own?”

Valerie shakes her head, looking at him, who is now crying.

“….l can never be on my own. Or love someone else other than you, even if I tried. But I have no interest.”

“Then what do you think it is?”

“…..maybe it’s a memory I never seen that she wants me to unlock. Maybe I have to see something to get there.”

“I think I can help with that. I don’t know how, but I’ll try.”

“Do you think that’s enough?”

“I know it’s not. It just means I have to prove myself in order to earn your trust back.”

She looks away, wiping her face with the napkin as Terrance looks at her. She exhales, looking back at him.

“…..he was there.” she confessed.

“What?”

“The night we made love, when you asked if something was out there that I kept looking, it was him. Junior. He watched us.”

He lets out a surprise laugh, covering his mouth. He wipes his face as he looked to see if Hen and Junior were coming.

“What the hell……”

“And I liked it.”

“You’re telling me this now?”

“You kissed him. After telling me you had control over your urges. And I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the only time with the way you and him were going at it.”

He doesn’t respond, just nods. Confirming it. She rolls her eyes, not mad, just disappointed.

“….do you want him? Like in a romantic way?”

“No.”

“….me either.”

“But you want to fuck him.”

“……yes.”

“…….I’ll keep that in mind.” she replies, turning away from him.

He about to ask her what she meant when Hen and Junior walked back in with the missing items, placing them on the table.

“Sorry for the wait. We were debating which ones to bring out!” said Hen, putting plates in front of them.

“That’s fine. We’re just having a conversation.” said Terrance, fixing himself.

“Oh, is everything okay?” asked Junior, with a concerned look on his face.

Terrance and Hen look at Valerie, who feels the pressure building.

“Yeah, Junior. Everything is fine.” she replies, smiling at him.

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A/N II: trouble in paradise? or is the paradise about to cause some steamy trouble in the bedroom? A little long, but I liked it! Part 3 should be out some time next week, but have a good night/day everyone 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hallo again! I am the one who asked about Val, it wasn't a request I was asking if you write for him so here we go!

Could it please be where reader is Valentino's son ( or just child if you don't write for male reader ) and Valentino can't find someone to trust-worthy to babysit his son so he just take him to work since reader is non-verbal anyway and won't be much of a bother?

So reader now comes regularly with him and see the other Vees as family. Perhaps Vox as another dad/uncle and Velvette as a big sister ( or any family role for them ).

Thank you for giving a look to my request!

Ooh! Right! Okay, okay. I can try this out. To be honest, Val is a monster but something tells me he wouldn’t be THAT bad with a kid of his own and yes, I do write male readers. Female, male, transgender, genderfluid(if that’s possible, idk how but I would do it anyway), nonbinary/GN! But anyways. Let’s try Val out as a dad!

Valentino- Silkworm Caterpillar

Everybody who knows the director of the Pentagram City’s Porn Industry, Valentino, is aware how much of a bastard he is; cruel, abusive, exploitative but nobody had ever suspected that he would actually one: have a son and two: treat that son better than he’s ever treated anybody, even his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox

Your dad’s an insufferable man-child but yet, he is actually pretty good with you. He doesn’t really like much things, other than you. He is awful but he feels kinda soft and fluffy whilst he is around you. You’re basically his soft spot

Valentino needs hugs and he will get them, no matter what may step in his path. You are non-verbal and mute so he cannot communicate with you properly, he just acts on his affections for you since he believes it’s fine

Valentino is that type of wingman-father. He always encourages you to get out of your comfort zone and boosts you up to look even better. He’s a close friend to you and you can hang out with him in casual settings where it almost seems like he is just your uncle, not your father

Valentino always offers to get you what you want, he is a father that spoils his seed rotten. Want a drink? He’ll get it. Want a phone? He’ll get it. Want more hugs? You’re getting them rather you want ‘em or not. He likes it when you smile and he does very much have favouritism towards you, where he almost never raises his voice to you

Valentino is actually protective, believe it or not and he is defensive over his son. Rather said son be above ten years old, he doesn’t trust a single being in Hell. Not anybody in Vees, not any under their luck bum he picks up for hire, not any one of his assistants. Nobody. He doesn’t ever want to leave you with somebody who can cause a threat

Valentino doesn’t really want to resort to this but after some more time. He decides to stop leaving you in the Vees Tower. You’re alone and you need him so he begins to bring you to his porn studios but what he does is that he glues you to other devices so you don’t have to be uncomfortable with watching pornography

Valentino is relatively soft and gentle. Even somebody as deranged and sick as him has a moment of love and affection and it’s in his son. He could be the most pissed off and at his absolute worse but when he is greeted by his offspring, he swallows back everything to be doting to you

Valentino calls you his silkworm because you’re a little caterpillar to him. He’s the moth, you’re his caterpillar and he’d pop you on his back and spread his wings for you if he had to. He enjoys your reaction of surprise and awe at his rather beautiful moth wings. He can understand where it comes from, it’s incredible. Isn’t it? He likes it when you’re proud of him or in awe of him

Valentino is aware of your deafness. You’ve been deaf since he had you… back in human life. Believe it or not, but he did and he actually cared to get you hearing aids but after you two died, he lost a hold of hearing aids and he has literally no other methods to help you

Valentino also much prefers you like the Vees themselves and the effort proves worth it since you end up viewing his on-and-off boyfriend, Vox as a stepfather and Velvette, their close friend, as a surrogate big sister. Valentino finds your point of views on his fellow rulers rather adorable and will playfully tease you about them

Valentino is learning sign language, since now of this time, sign language has been fully developed but he is struggling and his temper makes him go from trying to giving up to trying again. He’ll get there eventually, all for you

Valentino out here doing aggressive sign language and failing a whole lot

[redvexillum]

@crackrodent...YOU. AGAIN? But in all seriousness, thanks for challenging me. I've never written about an irredeemable main character before...or torture.

TAGS/WARNINGS: m/m, non-con, blackmail, drug use, tom is a psychopath/pervert but this is also hell so like not surprising, s☆unding, mutilati☆n, an☆l penetration, bottom!val, fr☆ttage, pins in c☆ck, blood as lube, b☆ndage, s☆x toy, no comfort, ☆verstimulation, begging, crying, torment, dead dove: do not eat, psychological, val had a really bad time, writer took a huge liberty of her head canon on tom trench, sadist!tom, s☆xual torture, unhinged!tom, dark, crack treated seriously, all the characters in this story are in hell because they are incredibly awful and despicable mofos, not kinktober or flufftober just horror

🙏 please mind your mental health before you read 🙏

Worthless. Trash. Nobody.

Tom Trench had heard it all, every demeaning spiteful word carved into his soul like jagged shards of glass. Back when he was alive, those words clung to him, branding him as an outsider, a weirdo – a man too peculiar for the world.  

His tastes, his quirks, all things he embraced were sneered at, laughed off, cast aside. He didn’t belong. He was an outsider lurking at the edges of every group, too strange to fit in, too proud to bend. But even then, buried under layers of bitterness and rejection, he had a dream. 

A dream to stand before the world, larger than life, bathed in the spotlight. His magnificent hair slicked back in perfection; his smile wide as fans would bow to his feet.  

Fame. Riches. Accolades.  

He had pictured it all, the roar of approval swelling in his ears as eyes would be all on him – he would be a star.  

The world would see him as a somebody.  

But life, cruel and fickle, dealt him a dog’s death.  

Scorned. Forgotten. Alone.  

His dreamed withered, trampled by those who never saw him for anything more than the peculiar man in the corner.  

He died as nothing. 

And it burned.  

Yet here, in Hell, things were different. Down here, he mattered. Hell didn’t care about quirks or strangeness; Hell embraced it. And Tom, with his gas mask forever fused to his face like a grotesque second skin, had found something he’d never had before: recognition. 

Tom Trench.  

The name burned brighter than the flames licking the underworld. He was co-host of 666 News, one of the most-watched shows in Hell. Here, they knew him. He had status. All eyes were on him, on Tom Trench.  

A somebody. He was a somebody.  

At least, that was what he told himself every time the camera crew or makeup artist glanced at him with blank indifference, their eyes flickering over him as if he were nothing more than an inconvenience.  

“Uhm, sir,” his assistant’s hesitant voice broke through his thoughts, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. “We’re ready for you.” 

Tom’s jaws clenched. That damn look again, the one that screamed she forgot my name.

Again.  

“It’s Tom,” he bit out, his voice a sharp, jagged edge.  

Her eyes widened, the fake forced smile twitching on her lips. “Right, of course, Tom.” She repeated it like she had to convince herself, taking a shaky step back. “You’re ready for the stage.” 

Her gaze slid past him almost immediately, gravitating toward his co-host, that bitch, Katie Killjoy. It was always the same – her and everyone else – eyes trailing longingly toward Killjoy, as if Tom were just a mere shadow in her spotlight. He could see it in the way his assistant’s lips curled into something softer when she looked at Killjoy, how her body relaxed as if being near her was a privilege.  

Tom forced his fury down, letting it simmer beneath the surface. Killjoy was a co-host, just like Tom. That was all.Nothing more. Yet, as the two of them sat side by side in front of the camera, the venomous reality slapped him across the face with every word that left her smug lips.  

She humiliated him. She did it effortlessly, tossing insults like they were second nature. A scalding cup of coffee spilled “accidentally” onto his lap, her sharp laughter ringing out as he flinched from the heat. Then came the string expletives, words flung at him like daggers in front of millions. The denizens of Hell loved it. They adore her viciousness, drank in her venom as if it were sweet wine.  

Her ratings soared.  

And Tom? He sat there, swallowing the bitter, sour taste of bile that surfaced from his rage, that threatened to choke him as they all laughed at him, never with him. Even in Hell, where he had clawed his way into a position of recognition, he was still just a stepping stone for someone like Killjoy. She was the woman everyone adored, while he remained the pathetic afterthought.  

The air was thick with whispers, swirling around the room like vultures circling a dying beast. They weren’t subtle – the gossip, the sidelong glances, the smiles aimed at her. The world of entertainment was all about her, the extravagant life she paraded in front of Hell’s masses, basking in the endless attention. And every second, his spotlight dimmed just a little more.  

Tom could feel it slipping away, like sand through his clenched fingers. His hand tightened into a fist, knuckles white as he fought to keep control, then slowly loosened. He had to breathe. But with every breath, memories came rushing back.  

Horrible memories.  

Scrubbing floors under the sneers of radio stars who barely acknowledged his existence. A janitor. A nobody. The disgusted glances, the whispers behind his back, the way they treated him like he was nothing. He had clawed his way up from that pit of humiliation, only to find himself teetering on the edge once more.  

But with the anger came something else. Something dark. Something...delicious. The perverse satisfaction that had always come when he exacted his revenge. Oh, how sweet it was to see the terror in their eyes before their blood painted the walls, before their lives were extinguished so easily as they had tried to snuff out his.  

The thought made him giddy, almost light-headed. That bitch, Killjoy...How he longed to wrap his hands around her throat, feel the delicate bones snap beneath his fingers, rip her trachea out and leave her lifeless body dangling in front of his house – strung up by her cunt. 

It was only a fantasy. For now.  

“...and back to you, Tom,” came that sickenly sweet voice, dripping with condescension. Katie Killjoy flashed her blood-red smile, her ghastly pale face stretching unnaturally, her long neck bent at an angle that made her look more like a grotesque puppet than a woman.  

Tom blinked, snapping out of his dark thoughts. He cleared his throat, fumbling to gather the papers in front of him. His voice was just about to break the silence when– 

The world tilted. His body hit the floor hard.  

Killjoy had shoved him.  

Laughter erupted. Hers, shrill and wicked, echoed by the snickers of the camera crew. His ass was planted on the cold studio floor, his notes scattered like the worthless thoughts they were, fluttering around him like discarded dreams.  

Words that had meant something – his words – now crushed underfoot, ground into the dirt like they weren’t even worth reading aloud.  

He sat there, frozen, the uselessness of it all swallowing him whole. Every time she shoved him, every time she spat venom in his direction, each moment she treated him like a worthless bug, something deep inside of him broke apart just a little more.  

Tom had always considered himself patient. He had always prided himself on being able to bide his time, to let the insults roll off his back, knowing that, when the time came, he would take care of his problems in...unorthodox ways. But now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface was growing hotter, more volatile, like magma threatening to erupt from the depths of his soul. Until, one day... 

One day... 

He... 

He laughed.  

The sound was hollow, echoing off the cracked walls of his dingy one-room apartment. The flickering lights barely illuminated the Hell critters scuttling through the walls, the electricity only working half the time – if that.  

He sat on the edge of his sagging bed, a wild itch spreading across his face. That damn gas mask. The curse that had fused it to his skin, forever making him a monster and incapable of showing a wide range of emotions. His fingers dug beneath the edges, nails scraping at his own flesh, tearing at the seams, trying to rip it off. But no matter how hard he clawed, it wouldn’t budge.  

The mask was a reminder. It was a part of him now, just like the hatred that grew and festered inside. No matter how much he wanted to tear it away; to rip off the facade and scream at the world, it clung to him. Just like the memories.  

The mask was a reminder – a cruel, suffocating reminder of his own stupidity. His fatal mistake. He hadn’t set the gas mask properly that night, hadn’t secured the mask tight enough before he drugged his victims – no – enemies. In his eagerness to play with them, he got careless. He remembered the sudden burn in his lungs, the bitter, acrid fumes filling his throat, choking him on his own vomit. The last thing he felt before death claimed him was the searing shame of his own failure.  

And now, that same mask – the mask that failed to protect him in life – was fused to his flesh in death. A permanent scar, a mockery from Hell itself. A joke, courtesy of the damn Lord, who seemed to take twisted pleasure in reminding Tom of his fall from grace. The mask clung to his skin, melded into his very being, a symbol of his downfall.  

It was as if Hell itself were looking down on him, laughing at him, calling him...  

Worthless.  

Trash.  

Nobody.  

Just like her. Just like Killjoy.  

His hands trembled, raw and bloodied from his earlier attempts to rip the mask off, to tear away the part of himself that was forever tainted by his failure. Shreds of skin hung loosely from his face, sticky with blood that dripped steadily onto his pants. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.  

As he bowed his head low, his eyes caught sight of the pristine white card – the invitation to a party tonight, an exclusive event for Hell’s celebrities to mingle and gloat.  

They hadn’t even bothered to invite him.  

He had stolen the invitation, filched it from Killjoy’s purse when she wasn’t looking. He’d rifled through her things countless times, savouring the small victories of taking what was hers. Knowing your enemy was critical, after all.  

His gaze drifted toward the small shrine in the corner of his apartment – a twisted, obsessive display of trinkets he had stolen from her like a scavenging magpie. A half-used tube of lipstick, condom wrappers, a mini bullet vibrator, a cheap pen. All arranged neatly, each item a piece of her that he kept close. A constant reminder of the enemy.  

But even as he looked at the shrine, something darker stirred within him. His cock twitched at the memory of the hot-pink vibrator, the way he had rubbed it against himself, imagining it was tainted with her disgusting touch. The fantasy that she hadn’t cleaned it properly before discarding it. He had gotten hard thinking about it, the idea of licking it clean crossing his mind more than once. But he couldn’t. The mask wouldn’t allow it. The thin slits were just wide enough for a straw, nothing more.  

Blood oozed down his hands as he stood, but the pain was distant, drowned out by the fury simmering inside him. His eyes lingered on the stolen items as dark glee radiated within him. She would be at the party tonight. She never missed a chance to flaunt herself, to show off to the world how perfect she was. This would be his chance – the perfect opportunity to ruin her in every possible way.  

His rage bubbled up, hotter and hotter, until it consumed every thought, every fibre of his being. The anger had always been there, simmering just below the surface, but now it boiled over. All he could think about, all he could imagine, was fucking her lifeless throat in the ultimate act of triumph. The way he had done to others in the past. The thought made his cock throb, the desire so strong it nearly consumed him.  

But in Hell, killing wasn’t as easy as it had been in life. Here, death was temporary, a mere inconvenience. Killing her would be too easy, too quick. No, what he wanted – what he needed – was to humiliate her. To break her, to strip away her power, piece by piece, until she was nothing more than a quivering, broken shell below him.  

After all, she always called him a...what was it again? 

Ah, yes, a limp-dick jackass.  

A small chuckle escaped him. It was only polite to prove her wrong, wasn’t it? His hand drifted down to the front of his pants, clutching the throbbing erection straining against the fabric. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, desire thrumming through him. He hadn’t fucked anyone since coming to Hell – hadn't indulged in his darker urges because it required a specific set of circumstances to...perform.  

But tonight? 

Tonight, would be different. 

The thought of forcing her to choke on his cock, to make her gag and squirm as he held her down, made his blood pound with sick anticipation. He could already picture her tear-streaked face, the horror in her eyes. Fuck. He was going to make Killjoy his bitch tonight.  

Hell was a beautiful place. There were substances here, powerful enough to bend even the strongest wills, to strip away control and leave a person at the mercy of their darkest desires. Tom had nearly drained his entire bank account to get his hands on a potent love potion, an almost magical concoction that would ensure his plans went off without a hitch. He patted the vial in his pocket, his fingers brushing against the mini camcorder tucked safely in the other  

He would record everything. His glory, his victory.  

Tonight, Katie Killjoy would regret ever crossing him.  

He had realized belatedly that tonight's party was a costume party. He quickly went to the bargain store and purchased a costume that was the cheapest in stock.  

The costume was a joke, a cheap, pathetic imitation of the infamous Angel Dust – a popular porn star known for his exaggerated style and body. Tom stood in front of his cracked mirror, smearing pink glitter around his eyes to imitate the porn star’s extra set of eyes.  

His fingers clumsily mussed his hair forward to mimic Angel’s wild hairstyle, and he stuffed clumps of fluff into the front of his shirt, attempting to simulate the porn star’s chest fluff.  

But it was a miserable failure. The glitter clung to his sweat-slicked skin, making his gas mask look even more ugly, and the fluff drooped awkwardly, highlighting his lack of finesse. He looked nothing like Angel Dust, not even a distant shadow. He looked like one of the coked-up sinners that haunted Hell’s back alleys - dirty, unhinged, and desperate.  

It didn’t matter. The costume wasn’t for mingling or fitting in. He had a purpose tonight, a goal far glorious than simply attending a party for clout.  

The moment he stepped into the club, the assault on his senses was immediate. The air was thick with the stench of alcohol, cloying perfume, and the unmistakable musk of sex. Strobe lights flickered wildly, casting shifting shadows across the room, while the pounding music reverberated through the building, vibrating in his chest like a second heartbeat.  

Bodies writhed together in an unholy dance – mass orgies on the dance floor, groups of sinners tangled in a mess of limbs and moans. Some engaged in conversation, but the real action was the chaotic display of hedonistic desires playing right in front of him.  

Tom had never belonged to this world. Never been invited to these kinds of exclusive gatherings. But tonight was different. He had to be here, even if he stole the invitation. He belonged among the rich and powerful, didn’t he? He wasn’t just anyone; he was Tom Trench, co-host of 666 News, one of the most-watched channels in Hell’s entire pentagram.  

He mattered.  

Or at least, that’s what he told himself as he stepped deeper into the fray, heart pounding in time with the music, head swimming with thoughts of what he was about to do.  

“Like fuck, I can’t believe I lost that fucking invitation!” Killjoy’s shrill voice cut through the din like a knife, and Tom’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He froze, scanning the crowd, his pulse racing as he spotted her near the bar, surrounded by a gaggle of sycophants in miniskirts and plunging tops, all hanging on her every word. She was in her element, laughing cruelly, her lips smeared with that garish red lipstick she always wore.  

Without thinking, Tom ducked behind a couple in the midst of dry humping, their bodies pressed together, tongues tangled in an intense display of public lust. The sinner’s underwear was yanked down, their exposed cunt rubbing shamelessly against their partner’s thigh. It was disgusting, but it provided just enough cover for Tom to hide, pulling out his phone to pretend he was preoccupied. It was an old, outdated piece of junk – still paying it off, of course – but it gave him an excuse to eavesdrop without looking suspicious. 

“Like, the fucking bitch at the door gave me such a hard time just because I didn’t have my invitation on me! But you know what I told her?” Killjoy’s voice dripped with sadistic glee, her laugh high and piercing as her entourage leaned in. “I told her if she didn’t get me in, I’d get my buddies to fuck her! Hahaha!” She snorted as she placed her fingers against her chest. “And trust me, that bitch nearly killed herself after the last time they did!” 

The surrounding women cackled, their laughter cruel and shrill, tears of mirth streaming down their perfectly made-up faces. They clung to her every word, validating her, admiring her. Tom’s stomach churned with a mix of bitter envy and anger.  

He knew exactly who she was talking about – the girl at the door was her assistant. The poor girl had always looked frazzled, terrified, constantly on edge around Killjoy. He’d heard about the incident when the assistant accidentally spilled a latte on Killjoy’s suit. It had been hilarious at the time, watching Killjoy’s face turn an unnatural shade of red, her eyes blazing with fury.  

But he hadn’t known the full story. He hadn’t known just how far Killjoy’s cruelty had gone, punishing her assistant in ways too vile to even imagine. Her assistant wasn’t an animal, but Killjoy was. The standards were held different for bitches like her.  

A sense of delight buzzed in his veins. Killjoy, always so perfect, always so untouchable, reduced to tears. Black mascara running down her pale cheeks as her carefully constructed mask of control shattered.  

The weight of the drug in his pocket felt heavier with each passing moment. His fingers twitched, itching to take action, to make his fantasy a reality. He could already see it – the way she’d crumble, the way her pristine image would be ripped apart in front of everyone. He’d tear that tight little nurse outfit right off her, make her scream, make her sob, until she was nothing but a broken shell of herself. His cock stirred again at the thought, the heat of his anger blending with a delirious sense of arousal.  

Tonight, he’d make her remember his name.  

He’d make her fear it.  

As Tom surveyed the area, he noticed the almost empty drink in her hand, and he could almost see the perfect opportunity forming in his mind. The bar was just steps away from her – so easy, so simple. He could order her a drink, instruct the bartender to hand it over, and watch as his plan unfolded. He could already imagine her glossy lips parting, taking a sip, and then– 

His thoughts were shattered by a sudden invasive pressure – fingers pressed right up against his asshole. Tom jolted, spinning around in shock, his body stiffening as he came face-to-face with someone far more dangerous than he’d anticipated.  

Valentino.  

The moth demon towered over him, dressed in his usual flamboyant attire, pink smoke curling lazily from his pipe held between his lips. The scent of his hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them, the haze seeming to draw Tom deeper into his humiliation.  

“Angel!” Valentino’s voice slithered through the noise, loud enough to grab the attention of the surrounding sinners. His hand still lingered near Tom’s rear, possessive, like he owned everything in his reach.  

“It-it’s Tom, sir,” Tom stammered, the earlier confidence draining from him like the smoke from Valentino’s pipe. He felt small. Insignificant. The weight of Valentino’s presence crushed his resolve.  

“What?” Valentino’s eyes narrowed, peering through his pink sunglasses as he bent lower, inspecting Tom’s face. A look of disgust flashed across his features. “Ugh, fuck, you’re an ugly thing, aren’t you?” He sneered, his lips curling before a soft gag escaped his throat. “Didn’t the invitation say sexy costumes?” Valentino turned to one of the curvaceous sinners by his side, her barely there bikini leaving little to the imagination. She gave a playful smile, batting her long lashes as she nodded.  

Tom’s heart thundered in his chest, a chaotic mix of fear, awe, and admiration. Valentino – one of the Vees, one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell – was standing right before him. His earlier scheme to ruin Killjoy seemed to fade like smoke, replaced with a sharp, aching desire.  

He wanted to be them. 

The Vees were somebody.  

They were the apex, the ones everyone else either feared or envied.  

And Tom? Tom was just another face in the crowd. Just another nobody.  

“I-uh-” he stammered, his mouth dry, eyes wide as another stunning beauty approached Valentino, draping herself over his other arm. Tom could barely think straight. His heart raced, not just from fear, but from longing. If he could impress Valentino, cozy up to him, maybe he could be more. Maybe he could become the sole host of 666 News, instead of living in Killjoy’s shadow. The Vees controlled every channel in the Pentagram; if anyone had the power to make him a somebody, it was them.  

But Valentino wasn’t interested. Before Tom could finish his pitiful attempt at flattery, Valentino raised a hand, cutting him off with a look of pure indifferent. “Who are you?” Valentino asked, the question hanging in the air, icy and rhetorical. Tom’s mouth opened, but no sound came. He didn’t have a chance to answer before Valentino’s lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re some nobody.” 

The words hit like a slap to the face. Valentino’s posture oozed arrogance, his hips jutting out in lazy dominance. “Run along now,” he drawled, waving Tom off like a bug he’d grown tired of swatting.  

“You’re dismissed.” 

The two girls at his sides giggled, their eyes dancing with malicious amusement. They didn’t see him as anything more than a joke, a small man playing dress-up, trying to fit into a world that didn’t want him. Their laughter stabbed at Tom’s pride, each giggle a reminder of his insignificance. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he tried to steady his breathing, but it felt like his chest was collapsing in on itself.  

His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything warped. His vision blurred, and suddenly, he wasn’t in the club anymore. He wasn’t under the judgmental gaze of Valentino and his entourage. No, he was somewhere else – somewhere familiar yet distant, like a half-forgotten dream. A memory surged forward, unbidden, like a hidden shard of glass surfacing from the depth of murky water.  

The memory, once a distant blur, came rushing back with brutal clarity, its edges sharper than a razor, slicing through his mind. Tom could see it – his brown, ratty, tattered shows, the leather peeling away like his last shred of dignity. Each step left bits of himself behind, dirt smeared across pristine floors that were never meant for the likes of him. His hands trembled, rubbing together compulsively, desperate, as if he could conjure up a miracle if just tried hard enough.  

Back then, he had been a janitor at a radio station. His cousin, always grinning with false hope, had promised him that if he worked hard enough, kept his head down, and grinded, maybe – just maybe – they'd give him a shot at stardom. A chance to be somebody.  

But that chance never came.  

Instead, he was left cleaning up after the real stars, scrubbing their messes while they laughed in the spotlight. His heart raced, a bitter rhythm that beat against the weight of the world collapsing around him.  

The Great Depression was in full swing – people starving, families dying in the streets. But Tom? No, Tom was going to be fine. He had been told to believe in the American dream. He had been told that hard work would pay off.  

So, every day, despite the mocking laughter, despite the whispers behind his back, he pushed forward. He had banked everything – his life, his hope – on the promise that effort would make him rise above the filth of the working class.  

But it was all a lie.  

“You’re dismissed,” his cousin had said, not even sparing a single glance up from his newspaper.  

Those two words echoed through his skull, twisting his stomach in knots. Those words were his ticket to eternal damnation, his invitation to the gutter. The world crumbled around him as they shattered the fragile dream he had clung to for so long. 

Those two words broke him.  

He had walked out into the street, the stench of death and rot filling the air. Those two words had stripped him of his humanity, left him hollow, a walking corpse, just another forgotten piece of garbage.  

He had stood over his cousin’s broken body, blood bubbling from the man’s lips, his last words choking on the truth that had haunted Tom his entire life: you’ll always be a nobody. Useless. Trash. 

Tom had once considered himself patient. A man who could endure. But now? As the anger from Killjoy’s mocking laughter seared into him, as Valentino’s cold dismissal stabbed through his chest, the final thread of sanity snapped.  

Valentino was long gone, already surrounded by his entourage. However, Tom stood there, giggling – a high-pitched, manic sound that rattled though his skull, masked by the pounding bass of the music.  

It was funny, wasn’t it? How life continued to fuck him, even in death. Every twist, every turn, the universe seemed to take pleasure in making him its joke. Always at the bottom, always overlooked, always discarded.  

His fingers brushed against the drug in his pocket, the weight of it pressing against his side like a reminder of what he could still do. His eyes, once burning with rage at Killjoy, shifted now. Slowly, they turned toward the tall, lanky figure lounging on a couch as if he owned the entire damn club. Valentino, with his heart-shaped glasses and that broad, sickening grin. His tongue flicked out, licking at the women draped over him like accessories, his arrogance oozing out from every pore.  

Valentino sat there like a king, surrounded by whores, drenched in the illusion of power. To him, everyone else was just a shadow, a worthless nobody.  

Just like Tom.  

It was disturbingly easy, how effortlessly Tom managed to slip the entire brew of the drug into Valentino’s drink. A drop or two was all it was supposed to take, but he didn’t care for caution. He dumped the whole flask, watching the light pink hue dissolve without a second thought. Maybe Valentino thought no one in Hell had the guts to spike his drink. Or maybe the Overlord was too arrogant to even consider the possibility.  

When Tom approached with the glass, Valentino barely spared him a glance, eyes glazed over with disdain as he reached for the drink. He gulped it down in one, not bothering to acknowledge Tom’s existence. But soon, his expression changed. Slowly, his head began to sway, and the surrounding whores giggled nervously, their hands caressing his arms as if their touch could stabilize him.  

Tom moved closer, stepping into the Overlord’s line of sight. Valentino’s eyes struggled to focus, a strange mix of clouding and desire clouding his features. “Angel!” he cried out, his voice slurring as his arms looped around Tom’s waist.  

It was laughably easy to guide Valentino into one of the club’s private rooms, the kind reserved for hard-core BDSM plays. Tom locked the door behind them, a metallic click that echoed through the dim room. Chains and leather straps adorned the walls, while flickering flames cast ominous shadows across the cold stone floor, licking the walls with an eerie glow. It was the perfect setting for what Tom had in mind.  

Valentino, completely unaware, had already begun undressing, his clothes falling in a careless heap on the floor. “Angel, baby,” he groaned, his voice heavy with lust and delirium. “I’ve been wanting to fuck your tight ass for weeks...how dare you make me wait, you ungrateful fucking whore.” His words slurred, muting the malicious tone. His body collapsed onto the bed with a graceless thud.  

Tom’s stomach twisted with a dark, sick pleasure. He didn’t care about the sex of his victims, never had. The only thing that mattered was that they were helpless. Weak. Prone. His arousal surged as Valentino lay before him, drugged and limp, a pitiful sight. His breath quickened, his pants already tightening around the hardness that pressed painfully against the fabric.  

Without a word, Tom moved to the restraints hanging on the walls, fingers brushing over the cold leather. He wanted to grin, to laugh, but the mask that had fused to his face, mocking hi for all eternity, prevented it.  

No matter.  

His actions spoke for him.  

Stripping out of the gaudy Angel Dust costume, he began to tie Valentino’s arms together with practised ease. He bound them tightly to the hook above the bed, pulling just enough to leave the Overlord’s body slightly suspended. Valentino’s lilac-shaded cock twitched pathetically with each touch, though it hung limp, his mind lost in the overwhelming effects of the drug.  

The apothecary had warned Tom – one drop was enough to drive a demon into mindless heat, to have them writhing in desperation. But a full vial? Tom’s pulse quickened, a thrill racing through him. He was going to find out.  

Valentino’s pink drool dribbled slowly from his parted lips, his head hanging uselessly as his arms stretched above him. The once-powerful Overlord now reduced to a puppet, limp and helpless. Tom’s breath hitched, his hand flying to his own hardened cock, slick with pre-cum as he gripped it tightly.  

Flashes of old memories flooded his mind – victims, squirming in panic, tied up in his gas-filled room. The smell of fear, the way their eyes widened when they saw him in his gas mask, breathing heavily as he watched them. The way they begged for mercy, their words cut off as the gas took over, silencing them just as they had silenced him when they mocked, dismissed, and belittled him.  

Those were the glory days.  

Short, fleeting, but glorious, nonetheless.  

And now? Now, here he was again, a nobody with the power to make someone else feel the same helplessness he had endured for far too long. Valentino would suffer, not through fear but through humiliation. He would be just another victim in Tom’s long line of revenge.  

“Augh,” Valentino moaned, his voice thick with lust and confusion as his cock slowly stiffened, pink drool spilling from his slack mouth, rolling down his chest in a glistening trail. His body, once the epitome of control and power, now hung limp, betrayed by the very pleasure coursing through him.  

Tom set the camcorder up at the foot of the bed, his movements methodical, driven by the sick sense of satisfaction. This recording – this proof – would be his victory. Even if it didn’t serve a purpose beyond his own personal gratification, he knew that watching Valentino’s humiliation again and again would feed him, satiate his hunger, for a very long time.  

Slowly, he stripped off his clothes, his cock hard and throbbing, standing proud as he climbed onto the bed. The feeling of control, of domination, filled him, and it was intoxicating.  

It was magnificently glorious.  

“So, who’s the powerless, weak nobody now?” Tom sneered, his voice low as he hovered above Valentino, his cock bobbing just in front of the Overlord’s face. The rush of power was exhilarating, a heady feeling that made him feel invincible.  

But then, Valentino stirred, his body twitching before a sputter of laughter escaped his lips, deep and mocking. Tom’s confidence wavered as Valentino’s grating laugh pierced through his triumph, hitting the nerves like nails on a chalkboard.  

“What the fuck is this?” Valentino squinted up at tom, a wide, sloppy grin spreading across his face. “Angel, when did your dick get so tiny?” His laughter grew louder, more malicious. “Unless...is that your pinky finger I’m seeing?” He leaned forward as if trying to get a closer look at Tom’s erect cock, eyes sparkling with cruel amusement.  

Shame and embarrassment coursed through Tom as he stumbled backward, his breath catching in his throat. He glanced down at Valentino’s half-hard cock, massive even in its lips state, and a wave of humiliation crashed over him. Five times bigger, Tom thought, feeling the sting of comparison tear at his earlier bravado. His own erection faltered, the shame creeping in like poison, each pulse of Valentino’s laughter eroding at his fragile sense of ego and power.  

Clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms, Tom fought to steady himself. “Size isn’t everything,” he spat bitterly, but the words tasted hollow. Valentino groaned, his head lolling from side to side as more saliva dribbled from his lips, the effects of the drug thickening in his veins. His cock, now fully erect, throbbed, pre-cum leaking in thick ropes down his shaft.  

“Fuck,” Valentino slurred, his voice barely coherent as his body twitched, trying to regain control. “What the fuck is going on?” His arms, bound above him, were the only thing keeping him from collapsing entirely, his strength drained by the overwhelming pleasure and the drug burning through him.  

Tom’s gaze flicked toward the drawer by the bed. His fingers grazed over the various sex toys within. His eyes landed on a thin metal rod with a circular-shaped handle at the end, its surfaced pocked with rust and decay. He had seen it used in some of the darker porn he’d watched – sounding, they called it. A flutter of amusement pulsed within him as he pulled it out, running his thumb over the rough, ridged surface.  

“Let’s just stop that little leak of yours, Val,” Tom muttered, his tone mockingly sweet as he returned to the bed. “I can call you that, right?” Valentino only groaned, lost in his delirium, and Tom chuckled darkly. The drug had Valentino completely at his mercy, his once-mighty form reduced to a quivering, incoherent mess.  

Tom’s fingers trailed down the length of Valentino’s shaft, feeling the heat radiating from it, the way it pulsed under his touch. The second his skin made contact; Valentino screamed – an animalistic sound that bounced off the wall. His hips jerked upward, pre-cum splattering everywhere, coating Tom’s hand and chest in sticky droplets.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Valentino cursed, his voice breaking as his body writhed in overstimulation, muscles tensing and flexing uncontrollably. His thighs quivered, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The sound of his whimpers – those small, pathetic cries – sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. He had never seen someone so powerful reduced to this, lost in a haze of pleasure so intense it bordered on agony.  

With a sadistic thrill pumping in his veins, Tom gripped Valentino’s cock in one hand, holding it steady. Valentino hissed at the contact, his body arching as if trying to escape the sensation. Unexpectedly, Tom positioned Valentino’s cock, the gaping slit already covered with pre-cum.  

And then, without hesitation, Tom drove the metal rod in, all at once.  

The scream that tore from Valentino’s throat was primal, a raw howl that reverberated off the stone walls. His body convulsed violently, arms straining against the restraints as he thrashed in pain. Blood mixed with the clear fluid, dripping in thick rivulets from the slit of his cock, staining the sheet below them.  

As Tom shoved the metal sounding deeper with brutal force, he disregarded the way Valentino’s cock strained and trembled under the intrusion. The tension, the sickening resistance of flesh yielding and ripping to cold steel, sent a thrill through Tom’s spine.  

Valentino’s pure, pained cries echoed like music to his ears, and for the first time in ages, Tom felt a rush of arousal so fierce it made him light-headed. His body thrummed with sadistic excitement, the sound of his own hissing breaths the only counterpoint to Valentino’s sobbing gasps.  

Tom’s hips jerked forward in short, uncontrolled strokes, his cock twitching as he focused solely on driving the sounding to its limit, down to the very hilt. His eyes roved over the sight with a ravenous hunger, his lips parting in a soft groan of pleasure as crimson droplets continued to well up from Valentino’s tip, the blood slowly trailing down the length of his shaft like delicate ribbons decorating a sacrificial altar. The contrast of the vivid red against the pale lilac skin was picturesque – it was art. 

Panting heavily, he finally released the device, sitting back on his heels as he admired his handiwork. Valentino’s face was a portrait of agony – tears streaming freely down his flushed cheeks, mixing with the pink drool that spilled from his slack mouth. His hips jerked in weak, pathetic thrusts, as though his body still sought relief despite the pain, fucking the air with an almost automatic, broken rhythm.  

“F-fuck...fuck...” Valentino’s voice cracked, a barely coherent string of words that failed to form any real protest. His expression was glazed, trapped somewhere between torment and lust, his mind a shattered mess.  

The sight of the powerful Overlord reduced to this wreck of a man – a trembling, crying, pathetic mess at Tom's mercy – sent a dark wave of satisfaction within him. His cock, already aching, hardened even more, throbbed in time with his racing heart.  

Without thinking, Tom’s hand flew to his shaft, gripping it tight as he began to stroke with wild desperation. His moans mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, obscene noise heightening his arousal. His gaze stayed on Valentino’s cock, still leaking blood in profuse streams, the tip a monstrous, crimson, puffy spectacle that fuelled the fire roaring in Tom’s gut  

Faster.  

Harder.  

His breath hitched, muscles tensing as the coil in his stomach tightened, winding tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. He could feel it – the edge drawing closer, and with a growl, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering forward to position himself above Valentino’s tear-streaked face.  

“You should know this routine, Val. You fucking love money shots,” Tom growled through gritted teeth, his hand a blur as he pumped his cock furiously. The slick sound of his strokes filled the room, building with every desperate gasp.  

His mind went white-hot as the climax finally crashed into him. With a pure, unfiltered, guttural moan, Tom let his head fall back, hips jerking as ropes of thick, hot cum shot from him, painting Valentino’s face in sticky white streaks. The droplets splattered across his cheeks, some landing on his pink-tinted glasses, smearing across the lenses like a filthy mark of ownership.  

But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.  

Tom stood there for a moment, chest heaving, his hand still loosely wrapped around his cock, but the hunger in him refused to face. His cock still twitched, still begged for more. He wasn’t done yet. He couldn’t be done. Not with Valentino laid out before him like this, vulnerable and broken. This was an opportunity too good to waste – a chance to push Valentino past the edge of despair and into true ruin.  

He turned toward the nearby box of toys again. His eyes, scanning the contents, glittering with sadistic glee as they fell upon a box of sharp acupuncture pins. Ideas blossomed in his mind, twisted, fragile, and beautiful. He grabbed them without hesitation, already envisioning the next stage of pleasure.  

When he stood and looked back, his grin only widened. Valentino was trembling, his body spasming uncontrollably as thick white cum, tinged with red streaks, leaked from the tip of his still-throbbing cock. The sight of it sent a rush of heat through Tom’s veins – Valentino had come despite it all, despite the pain.  

The bastard had found release, however fleeting.  

“Fucking hell, Val...you already came?” Tom muttered, amusement lacing his words as he stalked closer. But no matter – it wasn’t over yet. The drug coursing through Valentino’s veins would ensure that he stayed rock-hard, no matter how much he came. His body wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t find release, not until every drop of that drug was purged from his system.  

And Tom planned to take full advantage of that.  

Sitting back in front of Valentino, Tom let a slow, dark hum escape him, the haunting melody echoing a distant memory from his past. Valentino’s broken murmurs finally reached his ears, soft, slurred words that barely made sense. “Please...no more...please,” followed by a hoarse, trembling, “it fucking hurts.” 

Tom’s breath grew ragged, his heart hammering in his chest as excitement spread through his veins like wildfire. After years of being stepped on, spat on, and treated as less than nothing, here, presently, with Valentino sobbing and powerless before him, Tom had never felt so alive, so untouchable, dominant.  

“Val, you’re disappointing me,” Tom taunted, his voice dripping with mock sympathy as his fingers hovered over the sharp pin. The beaded end reflected from the dim light, each end adorned with a bright array of blues, reds, and yellows. Slowly, almost reverently, he positioned the pointed end against the side of Valentino’s shaft, savouring the way the soft skin quivered beneath his touch.  

Then, mercilessly, he pushed.  

The pointed edge pierced the delicate flesh easily, sinking in like a hot knife through butter. 

“Ah-ah-ahhhhhhh!” Valentino’s scream tore through the room, his body convulsing weakly, as if trying to escape the pain. But it was futile – the drug coursing through his veins kept him paralyzed, a prisoner to his own body, left to writhe under Tom’s sadistic whims.  

Tom’s high-pitched giggles burst out as he pushed the pin further, watching intently as the sharp glinting metal disappeared, blood welling up around the wound before spilling into crimson rivulets down Valentino’s cock.  

The bead rested at the base, nestled against the taut skin, a small, bright mark of Tom’s handiwork – his – ah – gift. Valentino’s agony was palpable, his cries a broken record that sent shivers of pleasure down Tom’s spine. 

“We’ll play a little game, Val,” Tom purred, his voice low and dripping with dark intent. His cock throbbed, standing fully erect, aching for release again as he admired the sight before him. Valentino’s tear-streaked face, the faint glimmer of cum still clinging to the rose-tinted lenses of his glasses – it was a masterpiece of suffering.  

“Tell me what my name is, and I’ll stop decorating your cock,” he groaned, his gaze fixating on the sounding protruding from Valentino’s urethra, the tip slowly oozing out fresh blood.  

Valentino’s breath hitched as his swollen, tear-filled eyes flicked up toward Tom, but his mind was a haze of torment. “I...I don’t know...” His voice was broken, his words thick and heavy, each syllable a struggle to form as his tongue lolled out between each breath.  

“Well, that’s a shame,” Tom replied brightly, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. Without hesitation, he reached for another pin, this time a bright blue one. With practised ease, he slid it into Valentino’s flesh, revelling in the fresh wave of agonized cries that filled the warm, musky air. The cries fuelled Tom, his hand drifting back to his own cock, stroking slowly, deliberately, as he watched Valentino’s face contort in suffering.  

“I - fuck...Paul?” Valentino sobbed, weakly thrashing against the binds. His body trembled like a leaf in the wind.  

“Wrong again,” Tom whispered, voice drenched with satisfaction. His arousal mounted with every scream; every helpless sob, Valentino gave. It was intoxicating, the way each pin drove Valentino further into the depths of agony. “Ah, fuck...” Tom groaned, his grip tightening around his cock as he pushed the next pin in, his mind lost in the perverse pleasure of it all.  

It was almost tragic – really, how easily Valentino had forgotten his name, as if the pain had burned away every memory. Tom’s gaze darkened as he picked up the last pin in the small pouch, a red one this time, and drove it deep into the only remaining space into Valentino’s shaft.  

The result was hauntingly beautiful. The pins, bright beads of colour, embedded deep into his bleeding cock, turned the once-proud organ into something...festive. The crimson blood oozed from the wounds, staining Valentino’s balls and the sheets beneath him in a macabre display.  

“For being such a good boy, how about I reward you, Val?” Tom cooed, his voice sickly sweet, his heart beating frantically as he heard the faint, hoarse whispers of “no” spilling from Valentino’s lips. But Tom had already made up his mind. His eyes couldn’t tear away from the oversized sparkly pink dildo standing proudly by the bedside table.  

It was a monstrosity, the size of Valentino’s forearm, a brutal weapon of destruction that could easily tear someone apart. The girth alone was enough to ruin anyone permanently.  

Straining, Tom grasped the oversized dildo, the artificial scent of manufactured plastic sharp in his nostrils. With a firm shove of Valentino’s shoulder, his body was forced forward. Valentino hissed in agony as his raw, bloodied cock made contact with the rough bedsheet, another strangled cry of desperation filling the room.  

“Please...no more,” Valentino whimpered, his voice a broken whisper lost to the air.  

Tom, unmoved, set the dildo down on the bed beside them. He leaned over, pressing a finger to Valentino’s trembling lips, shushing him softly. Without warning, he gripped Valentino’s narrow waist, lifting his limp, rag-doll body off the bed. He positioned Valentino’s trembling form over the massive toy, resting the tip of the monstrous cock right against Valentino’s tight ring of muscle.  

“Fuck, no! No!” Valentino’s cries were frantic now, his voice hoarse with panic. “I’ll do whatever you want, anything – please, I’ll give you anything, just – please,” his spittle flew, and drool leaked into a stringy goop of mess.  

But Tom didn’t care. His mind was lost in the ecstasy of the moment, the thrill of control that made his pulse quicken and his cock throb. The sight of Valentino’s body trembling on the brink of being impaled, the helplessness in his eyes, only heightened Tom’s desire. His urge to stroke himself into oblivion gnawed at him, but he forced himself to savour this moment.  

With deliberate calm, Tom stood behind Valentino, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as though he were offering comfort. He took a slow, deep breath, leaning close. “Relax, Val...it’ll feel good,” he whispered, pressing the side of his face with Valentino’s. “For me, that is,” he finished with a cruel laugh, before he suddenly slammed Valentino down onto the dildo.  

The reaction was immediate. Valentino’s screams were ripped from his throat, his voice breaking into a guttural wheeze as his body convulsed in agony. His ass, unprepared and unable to accommodate the sheer size of the dildo, stretched obscenely around it. Tom’s grip on Valentino’s hips was unrelenting as he forced him lower, ignoring the frantic, incoherent pleas spilling from his lips. Valentino begged, over and over, but Tom’s focus never wavered.  

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Valentino’s body was pushed further down, the monstrous toy rearranging his insides. Tom shivered with sick satisfaction as he watched the bulge begin to form in Valentino’s lower belly, the outline of the dildo distending his thin frame. The sight was glorious, obscene, the kind of thing that made Tom’s cock throb with unbearable need.  

With a hoarse, broken cry, Valentino’s cock spasmed violently. A messy burst of semen erupting from the tip, spraying onto the sheets as his lolled backward in a mix of unbearable pain and cruelly forced pleasure. His entire body shook, trembling like a newborn calf, but still, Tom paid no mind to his suffering. His only focus was on forcing Valentino to take the full length of the dildo, every, damning inch.  

“Aren’t I such a generous partner, Val?” Tom’s voice was light, almost teasing, as Valentino’s body finally sank to the hilt, his entire lower half impaled on the dildo. “You told me my cock wasn’t enough for you, so I got you something better. Aren’t you grateful?”  

“Anything,” Valentino muttered weakly, tears streaming down his cheeks, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ll tell you anything...anything...” His words were slurred, trembling, lost in the haze of agony and fear. His lower half was a horrific mess of blood and cum, staining both his skin and the bedsheets.  

Tom scoffed, shaking his head. “Sure, Val. Tell me something...something no one else knows.” He knelt down in front of Valentino, his cock hard and leaking, pressing the length of it against Valentino’s mutilated, beaded shaft. Valentino let out a sharp hiss of pain, the movement sending a fresh wave of agony through him as Tom slowly rubbed his cock along Valentino’s smearing the mix of blood and cum across his skin.  

Gripping the sounding still embedded in Valentino’s urethra, Tome began to move it with a slow, deliberate motions, tugging it up and down as Valentino’s sobs grew louder, more pitiful. “Go on,” Tom panted, his breath hitching as he felt the edge of his cock brush against the smooth end of the beaded tip. “Tell me...” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure build inside him, the sensation of Valentino’s mutilated, swollen shaft heightening every stroke.  

Valentino could only sob harder, his body trembling uncontrollably as Tom’s cruel, taunting touch brought him closer to the edge of madness. Tom’s breath quickened, his moans becoming louder, more guttural, as he lost himself in the feel of Valentino’s bloodied flesh pressed right up again him.  

“We-we’re planning to a-attack the Princess of Hell’s hotel next w-week,” Valentino stuttered, his voice trembling with fear and pain. “W-we have an army...ngh...equipped with...hah...” His words faltered as Tom recklessly pulled the sounding halfway out of his cock, before thrusting it back in with a sickening squelch. Valentino gasped, choking on his words as a thick bubble of blood oozed from the tip. “A-angelic s-steel,” he finally managed to wheeze, his mouth hanging open, drool and snot mingling and dribbling down his chin.  

Tom’s hand paused. The words barely registered – he couldn’t care less about some redemption hotel. It held absolutely zero interest to him. Still, this was information the Vees clearly kept close to their chest, and it might be useful later. He could figure out how to capitalize on it later tonight. For now, his gaze fell back on Valentino’s wrecked face, streaked with tears and fluids, eyes wide in terror and agony. The moment of truth was upon him.  

It was time to burst through the cocoon of suffocating oppression, and chase his own glorious release.  

With a sharp, brutal yank, Tom pulled the sounding free. Valentino’s body convulsed, a violent spasm wracking him and his pained moans barely audible.  

Tom groaned, feeling his own need swell within him. He gripped both their cocks, pressing them together, his hand sliding up and down their lengths as he ground against Valentino’s swollen, purple shaft.  

Valentino let out another broken sob as the pin buried in his cock shifted, the pressure causing his member to turn an even deeper shade of purple. His cock pulsed painfully as Tom quickened his pace, chasing the edge of his orgasm.  

“Oh fuck...fuck,” Tom panted, the wet squelching sound of their cocks sliding together filling the room alongside Valentino’s pitiful, broken whimpers. With one final hard thrust, Tom let out a low, guttural moan, his body seizing in pleasure as thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock, painting Valentino’s limp, bloodied body. His seed splattered across Valentino’s sweat-slick chest, mixing with the blood and cum staining his swollen cock.  

Panting heavily, Tom finally collapsed backward, his body spent, his cock softening as the heady, addicting sensation of pleasure washed over him. He hadn’t felt this kind of pure, unadulterated pleasure in decades. His body felt light, like a weight had been lifted from his soul.  

He glanced down at Valentino’s face – his red eyes were blown wide open, but they had lost all focus, glazed over in shock and exhaustion. His tongue hung limply from the side of his mouth, his body completely still, suspended from the ceiling by the ropes binding him. Even now, after countless brutal releases, Valentino’s cock remained comically hard, the veins bulging angrily against his abused skin.  

It looked like the moth Overlord had finally reached his breaking point. Valentino was hanging their unconscious, barely breathing, his body slack and lifeless. Tom couldn’t help the satisfied smile that tugged at his lips.  

Valentino made such a handsome, tragic painting like this – strung up, covered in a mixture of blood and cum. Tom took a long moment to admire the scene, grateful he had captured every beautiful detail with his camcorder. This was a memory he would savour for a very long time.  

It was a show he would watch over and over again.  

With a final glance at Valentino’s broken, beautiful form, Tom took his time getting dressed, slipping his shirt back on as he pocketed the camcorder. As he exited the room, he could still hear the pulsing beat of music from the club. No one would notice what had transpired – everyone was far too lost in their own indulgence, high and drunk, as the sound of moans and cries of ecstasy filled the air from the mass orgy happening just down the hall.  

Tom slipped his hands into his pockets, humming a small, contented tune as he left the clubroom, felling more alive than he had...ever.  

Once the haze of his high started to fade, his mind sharpened, and he remembered the information Valentino had spilled. Taking out a burner phone, Tom extracted the audio of Valentino’s confession, his broken voice detailing the Vees’ plans to attack the hotel. With a smirk, he sent the audio file to the head of Voxtek with a brief message: 

“It would be a shame if this got leaked to the public.” 

It didn’t take long. Within seconds, a reply appeared on his phone from the head-honcho himself: 

“Name your price.” 

Tom stared at the neat, blocky text on the screen, his mind racing with unlimited potential. He knew the power the Overlords held – one wrong move, and they could easily snuff him out like a flickering candle. But if he played his cards right, if he handled this just carefully enough... 

A small, manic laugh bubbled up from his throat, his fingers digging into his mask – his face – as the realization hit him.  

Finally.  

Finally.  

Finally. 

He was going to be a somebody. 

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

End Note: This was by far the darkest piece of fanfiction I've written with explicit sexual violence. I generally stay away from writing this genre because it is emotionally draining and I wasn't sure if I could write it well - or handle it with care.

The main point of this story isn't for sexual gratification - it was about Tom who had been beaten down all his life and finally found some semblance of control and power through the act of despicable sexual acts/torture. I wanted to convey that feeling and my intention is not to fetishize it.

All in all, it was a cathartic experience to write someone crazy and unhinged and let my imagination let loose.

[crushedsweets]

I’m knees deep in a creepypasta AU set in South California where I’m letting my non-creepypasta friends guide the characterizations based off of my loose descriptions of them. They want Toby to be Texan(cowboy hat and rides horses) and the Woods parents died in a car crash on the way to pick Liu up from juvie and Kate has been in foster care most of her life. Nobody ever killed anyone.

It started off as just a self insert creepypasta story without the other creeps but it got super muddied and I’m really super fond of it. Toby and Kate work on Bonnie’s orchard and are tired of her antics. Jeff frequents Valerie’s tattoo shop cuz clocky works there and lets Val experiment tattoo styles on him. Camila gets caught up with Liu trying to film a true crime documentary. Bonnie’s aunt gets cannibalized and Camila is getting violently cyberstalked. We call it washed up. Cuz it takes place by the beach. LMAO