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lambtotheslaughterr · 8 months ago

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I Burn: Part Five

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FOUR | MASTERLIST | PART SIX

For the last week you have felt more eyes on you than you would like. And none of them were eyes you wanted. The most daunting ones though were Dr. Mooney’s. He was disappointed in you. He didn’t need to say it, you felt it every time he looked at you. You had let him down. And you hated yourself for it. Hated Rafe even more because of it. You wish Rafe had never come here. It was all his fault, taking advantage of you. But a shameless part of you still wanted him. You worried you wouldn’t be satisfied until you finally did.

Dr. Mooney didn’t address the ‘incident’ until the following morning after catching you two in the quiet room. You & Rafe were removed from each other effectively & placed into your rooms. Doors locked. That rarely happened. But of course, it would happen to you.

The next morning you were to see Dr. Mooney, your routine be damned. Walking to his office that morning was excruciating. The longest walk of shame you had ever done. And once inside his office, you felt suffocated by the tension.

Unlike most times when you entered his office, Dr. Mooney did not greet you with a smile. He was already sitting in his chair across from the couch, one leg propped over the other & his notepad balanced on his knee. You stiffly moved towards the couch.

You wetted your lips, chewing your lower lip as you awaited his scolding.

“_____.” It was the first time he had said your name & it didn’t make you flutter. Instead, you wished you could sink into the couch & disappear from sight. You felt like a child about to get put into time out. That was essentially what happened.

“I want to understand your thoughts about last night.” Dr. Mooney eyed you from above his glasses, his brows crinkled.

There had been no thoughts. You had been influenced, manipulated, taken advantage of. And you said as such. But Dr. Mooney didn’t accept your answer.

“You are a grown woman. Placing blame entirely on Rafe is childish, is it not?” His rebuttal hurt. He had always been on your side; now it felt like he was admonishing you like you were no better than the worst.

“I went into that room alone, Dr. Mooney. I didn’t ask him to follow me.”

“Yes, free-will is a great thing. Something we want to empower our patients here with. Yet, you gave in to your addiction. You did not practice restraint.” He pressed his lips together as he stared hard at you.

You let out a shaky breath, “I tried…”

He frowned then, nodding once. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.”

“We didn’t even have sex. You made sure of that.” You battled though your voice was small.

“And I’m glad I did. You were doing so well, _____. It truly disappoints me that I must make a call to your parents about this.”

“No!” You shot forward at the mention of your parents, “Please Dr. Mooney, don’t. You can’t!”

“I can & I must. It’s our policy that when an incident happens with our patients regarding their recovery process that we inform the parents or guardians. No exceptions.” Dr. Mooney’s voice hardened, having grown quite unimpressed with you.

“Please, please! If you tell them I’ll never get out of here! You heard my dad!” You begged, “He even thinks I’m sleeping with you! He thinks the absolute worst of me. Please, Dr. Mooney. It won’t ever happen again.”

Dr. Mooney’s eyes softened momentarily as he listened to your pleas, but much to your dismay, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, _____, but it’s policy. And I can’t excuse what you got up to last night. Perhaps you should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before you made the decision to follow through on them.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly. You imagined your parents getting the call, learning the news. They left here hearing how well you were doing, an ‘excellent example’ Dr. Mooney had told them about your progress. Now, they would only be let down. Again.

You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes harshly as a simmering rage settled within you.

“You’re punishing me.” You whispered, not looking at him.

Dr. Mooney clicked his tongue, “I wish you didn’t view it that way.”

You raised your eyes to glare at him, “You never wanted to help me.”

He stuffed his notepad between his thigh & the arm of the chair, leaning forward to stare at you, “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” You questioned, “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

“And I understand that it doesn’t.” He responded, “But I also thought you understood responsibility. It appears we still have much to work on.”

You shook your head in disagreement, glancing at the ground once more, unable to handle the look in his eyes as he looked at you.

“I’m never getting out of here.” You spoke to no one.

Dr. Mooney said nothing.

And so for the next week your sessions with Dr. Mooney were longer, though your conversations were brief. You didn’t trust him. You couldn’t. He had informed you in your second session with him following the incident that he did indeed call your parents. But you had not heard from them. You surmised you likely wouldn’t. You pictured your father not allowing your mother to call, to punish you further.

More so, group sessions were sporadic. Rafe & you had strict rules to not be allowed in the same room for at least a week, so you two took turns attending group therapy, & even got food during breakfast, lunch, & dinner at separate times. You hadn’t seen him all week, not even a peek. Dr. Mooney was taking your separation from each other seriously. So, you were watched like a hawk. Nurse Carney was with you most, if not all, the time. If the facility hadn’t felt like a prison before it sure did now.

But it was Friday now. The weekend was starting. And as much as you still blamed Rafe for what happened, you still longed to see him. At night, you imagined his face, his touch, his voice. It made you feel less alone, & it brought you comfort knowing that he was likely feeling the same you were. You two were opposing forces who couldn’t help but be drawn to each other. Why were you two being punished for that?

The only remotely ‘good’ thing to come out of this separation & prison treatment was that you hadn’t masturbated. You didn’t even have the urge. You were too angry to feel the burn. Dr. Mooney had said it was a good thing that you weren’t acting on your desires, but that it was unfortunate that it was due to negative feelings towards him & the recovery process. But restraint is restraint, he had said. It was the first time you imagined punching him. Desirable thoughts about Dr. Mooney had died quickly.

At this moment, you were dressed comfortably in a pair of shorts & a tank top. It was all your wardrobe really consisted of during your stay here. Your out & about clothes were unfortunately saved for community service days. Which was tomorrow. You wondered if Dr. Mooney would allow you out with your fellow patients, if he would let Rafe go. After all, it had been a week since you saw him, & there was no attempt to try to see him. Seeing him again would be your reward.

You reached Dr. Mooney’s office. The door was closed but you heard muffled voices inside. You couldn’t make out any words but there was a small laugh. It was a woman’s. You felt your skin burning hot, annoyed that whoever was inside was having a positive interaction with Dr. Mooney. That used to be you.

Knocking on the door, you didn’t care if you interrupted. There was the sound of footfalls before the door swung open. Dr. Mooney was dressed casually like he usually did on Friday’s before the weekend. And just behind him you saw Nurse Carney standing by his desk.

“_____ come in.” You kept your arms crossed in front of yourself as you stepped inside, not bothering to hide how you glanced between the two providers.

“Kiera, we’ll finish this later.”

She smiled politely at that, “Of course, Doctor.” She met your eyes in kind & nodded before leaving the two of you.

Dr. Mooney gestured to the couch & you dropped a knee onto it as he got situated in his chair, “My apologies, _____. I lost track of time.”

“What were you two talking about?” You knew you had no place to insert yourself in whatever private conversation they were having but you didn’t care.

“Tomorrow’s community service. I’m going to join in on this one.” The information surprised you. Dr. Mooney never came out on community service days. You had an inkling it was because of you & Rafe. But that meant that you two would indeed be together tomorrow.

“You are?”

“Mhmm.” He gave a closed lip grin, “My wife is going out of town & I figured it’d be a good opportunity to see my patients out in the real world. Take notes about their progress.”

You said nothing but shifted to get more comfortable.

“Okay, so.” He raised his hands lightly before bringing them back down to rest on his thighs, “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged, fingering the hem of your shorts, “Fine.”

“_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name concerningly, “You need to talk to me. I understand that you feel like you were being punished for this last week, but I really implore you to understand it’s for your well-being. You want to get better, don’t you?”

What a stupid fucking question. You nodded silently.

“The separation ends tomorrow. How are you feeling about that?”

Ecstatic. But you wouldn’t say so. You worried if you showed too much excitement towards it that he would extend the separation. “I’m just glad I won’t be treated like a prisoner anymore.”

“You’re not a prisoner. But you are under my care here. And I only separated the two of you to protect you.” Dr. Mooney frowned, “One day you’ll see that.”

“So, if Rafe & I even talk to each other tomorrow, we won’t get in trouble for that?” It wasn’t a silly question. You really needed to know how close you could be with him without getting in trouble for it.

“Of course not, _____. I am not to speak with you about other patient’s progress, but the separation was for you as much as it was for Rafe. You two are in very fragile, vulnerable stages of the recovery process. It’s typical for patients to find comfort or connection in one another, but physical comfort, physical connection is prohibited. Should you two succeed in your stay here & leave the facility, what transpires between the two of you is between the two of you, but our goal here is to have a healthy relationship. And in your case, a healthy relationship with a man is essential.”

“Is Rafe not healthy for me?” You questioned.

“Right now, no.” Dr. Mooney admitted, “And neither are you for him. You two tempt each other. You bring out each other’s recklessness. Recklessness for addicts is, as expected, always troublesome. I care about you, & Rafe, leaving here with the self-empowerment to recognize your respective addictive behaviors & the skills to navigate them in a safe, healthy manner.”

You bit your lip, frowning. You hated that he was making sense. But you were still angry.

“I’m sorry for saying you were punishing me. That you didn’t want to help me.”

Dr. Mooney smiled softly, “I accept your apology. But I am here for you, _____. I only want what is best for you.”

You nodded, “I know. I guess I just have a hard time believing that after everything.”

“Recovery is a tough, tough process. A lot of animosity, blame on others, resentment, anger, deep regret—all of those things make recovery difficult. But I still believe in you.”

For the first time in a week Dr. Mooney made your heart flutter with his praising words.

“Thank you for saying that.”

It was also the first time in a week that you smiled. Even if it was a small one.

Saturday saw you getting excitedly dressed for community service day. Nurse Carney had informed all the patients that today’s outing would be a two hour long drive to the coast for beach clean-up. You groaned at the thought of cleaning up other people’s garbage, but when she had told others to wear beach wear, your disgust quickly transitioned to anticipation. After beach clean-up, patients would be allowed to actually enjoy the beach. A reward for all your hard word & dedication to the recovery process.

So you changed into a navy blue one-piece suit then slipped into a pair of jeans & tugged on a lime green cropped hoodie. Since you were going to the beach, you wore a pair of your favorite sandals, though you knew the second you touched sand you’d be kicking them off. You couldn’t wait to feel the beach under your feet.

In the lobby, you joined the others as Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney did a head count. You spotted Rafe along the furthest wall, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. He had yet to spot you. Glancing at Dr. Mooney briefly to see if he was curious as to what you were up to, you bravely began walking towards Rafe. But a figure stepped in front of you.

“Sit with me?” It was Albert. His hair was tied into a bun, a few strands hanging loose to kiss his forehead. You stuttered at his sudden request. And before you could even respond, Albert tugged on your arm to lead you outside where the van waited. Guess your reunion with Rafe would have to wait until the beach.

Inside the van, Albert gently pushed you back towards the furthest row before sitting beside you. Siena appeared behind him & sat on his other side. They traded looks that looked as if they were speaking to one another without words. You were about to ask them what the hell they were up to when Rafe appeared next. You let out a pleased exhale, but it was short-lived as he pointedly avoided looking in your direction.

Rafe slid into the second row, sitting directly in front of you, & Renne sat beside him. Then Dr. Mooney got into the passenger seat while Nurse Carney took to the drivers seat. Most everyone was talking jovially about today’s outing, but your elation slowly rotted away as you stared at the back of Rafe’s head. There was palpable energy rolling off him. The whole of the van was filled with laughter, screeches of joy, but where he sat was a dark cloud, & that cloud was beginning to cast over you.

You frowned to yourself. Something was wrong. Though you didn’t know Rafe well, he wasn’t the brooding type. Yet there he was slouched in his seat, staring straight ahead. You narrowed his eyes, willing him to feel the hole you were burning into the back of his head. But he never looked back. Not once.

“You okay?” You inhaled sharply as Albert broke your focus.

“Yeah, sure.” You forced a smile.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t be. Not when Rafe wasn’t.

The beach clean-up had been surprisingly a lot of fun. You contributed the fun of it to the sun & the feel of sand squished between your toes. Dr. Mooney & Nurse Carney kept a loose leash on all of you as you all traversed up & down the beach with stabbers & garbage bags. The clean-up itself lasted only a couple hours & then Nurse Carney called for everyone to join her & Dr. Mooney under a canopy they had set up for making lunch under.

Lunch was styled like a sandwich buffet. Breads, cheeses, meats, veggies, condiments, the whole shebang. You made yourself a simple ham & cheese sandwich & accepted a salad bowl from Nurse Carney that she had made. Then the seven of you ate on towels nearby. You had planned on going to sit with Rafe, but Albert & Siena snatched you up yet again, dragging you over to sit with them.

Though you were enjoying their sudden interest in you, you were mildly annoyed. You hadn’t been near Rafe in a week. All you wanted, more than anything, was just to at least eat with him. Dr. Mooney said it would be okay. And these two were preventing you from doing just that.

But once you were done eating, you were determined to approach Rafe, to spend whatever time left you had on the beach to be near him. After finishing your food, you hurriedly carried your trash back to the canopy. Nurse Carney was gathering up the lunch items & placing them back into a small chest.

“Thanks for lunch.” You told her.

She grinned, her red hair glistening against the beach backdrop, “Of course, I hope it was decent enough.”

You nodded then turned back around. Renee was down by the water in a pair of black shorts & a long sleeve. You rolled your eyes. Only she would be dressed in all black on a day out to the beach. Freak.

To your left, you watched as Albert & Siena dressed down to their respective bathing suits. Albert wore multi-colored board shorts & Siena sported a coral pink tankini. Then you peered around for the object of your desire. A couple yards away, Rafe sat on a beached log. He wore a white tank top & navy blue board shorts. Even from your vantage point you could still sense the cloud hanging over him. And on a beautiful day like this, you were set on parting the cloud hanging over him.

Removing your own hoodie, you placed on top of a nearby towel, followed by your jeans. Then you began walking towards him. It came naturally to you to walk with a little sass in your walk, it was how you often drew the male gaze to yourself, but as you grew closer to Rafe, he never once looked your eyes, even when you knew you were without a doubt in his peripheral. Once you were finally upon him, you gently kicked sand towards him.

“Why the long face?” You teased, choosing to sit on your knees on the sand before him rather than joining him on the log.

Rafe peered at you, his eyes squinting from the sun, “Did you need something?”

His cold tone & choice of words shocked you. You frowned at him, “What’s wrong?”

He chuckled darkly at your question but there was no amusement in it, “What do you want, _____?”

Words evaded you. What was his fucking deal? You were so happy, so so happy to finally be able to talk to him. And this was how he spoke to you after a week of not seeing each other? You expected him to be happier. So, why wasn’t he?

“I don’t know, I just…” His dark cloud was growing bigger. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

You had just stood up & was about to walk away when a hand shot out & gripped your wrist, “Don’t leave.”

This time he spoke softly. But you couldn’t deal with his bipolar attitude. It was ruining your beach day.

You pulled your wrist from his grasp, not because you didn’t want him touching you—you did—but if Nurse Carney or, god forbid, Dr. Mooney saw, who knew what reparations may come your guys’ way.

Rafe sighed heavily, “I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”

You returned to your knees, nodding in understanding, “Same here. What’s wrong though?”

Rafe shook his head, his tongue poking his lower lip out, “It’s fucking Dr. Mooney.”

At the mention of his name, you glanced over your shoulder back towards the canopy. Nurse Carney was talking animatedly by Dr. Mooney’s side, but his eyes were watching the two of you. You looked away.

“What happened?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly contemplating whether or not he would tell you, “He doesn’t want me near you.”

You shrugged, “That’s not true, Rafe. He just wants us to get better.”

Rafe scoffed at that, “Is that what he told you?”

“Well, yeah.” You brushed your hair out of your eyes as a light breeze picked up, “Isn’t that what he told you?”

Rafe glared over your shoulder, no doubt aiming it towards the doctor in question. “No. It isn’t.”

The look of malice on his face concerned you, “What did he say then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m the only one here who would believe you.”

“You sure about that?” Rafe responded in short.

You felt doubt swell in your heart. What could Dr. Mooney possibly have said to upset Rafe?

“He wants you. He doesn’t care about you getting better. And he definitely doesn’t like how close we’ve become.”

His words shocked you. Dr. Mooney?! You stared hard at Rafe, not finding his jest funny, “Bullshit. Why are you lying?”

“See. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Rafe stood up, shaking his head, “Whatever. He’s obviously got you wrapped around his finger.”

Scared that Rafe was going to leave you, you rushed forward, grabbing his wrist like he had yours. You didn’t care if Dr. Mooney saw, “No, wait. I’m sorry. I’ll listen.”

Rafe stared down at you. He gently overturned his wrist, catching your hand in his, your fingers briefly tangling before he finally sat back down. You let go of his hand.

“He really said that?” You questioned. You had a hard time believing it, honestly. Dr. Mooney had never shown any interest in you like that. And you believed him when he said he was determined to help you get better. More so, why would he admit that to a patient of his own, that he was essentially going to prevent you from leaving the facility? It didn’t make sense, but you weren’t going to express that.

“He didn’t have to.” Rafe replied, his answer making you frown. “But I know him. Because I am him. He’s threatened by me.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Yes, _____. I see the way he watches you. Think about it. He knows you & your addiction better than anyone else, even yourself. He knows what to say, what to do to get you to listen to whatever he says. Even now, he hasn’t stopped looking at you once since you came over here.”

But that was because of the two of you getting caught. Nothing more. However, you couldn’t deny the burning sensation igniting deep within yourself. Was it true? Was it really true that Dr. Mooney saw you as more than a patient? You were conflicted on how to feel about it. Part of you was pleased, but the other part, disappointed.

“Something Dr. Mooney will never admit is that he’s as much of a man as any of us. He still has carnal wants. And he wants you.” Rafe told you, “And who wouldn’t. Look at you. You know what you do to men. Just because he’s your doctor doesn’t mean he doesn’t look at you like he wants a taste himself.”

His words left you feeling unwell.

“You should’ve seen the way he watched you when you got undressed just now. Probably wondering what else you have going on under there. I mean, he got a peek last week when he interrupted us. He knows you dressed down for me, not him, & it pisses him off. It pisses him off that you want someone other than him.”

You shook your head, “No. We’re at the beach! I wore this for the beach…” But you could hear the doubt in your own argument.

“You say that but we both know.” Rafe chided you, “And so does he. You’re caught in the middle, _____, don’t you see that? Being pulled between two men who want you.”

You were getting too hot, too flustered. You felt dizzy & your stomach lurched. No. Dr. Mooney didn’t want you. He couldn’t. Rafe was just fucking with you again. He had to be. Dr. Mooney was a good man, a good doctor. He cared about you. Rafe didn’t.

Angry, you stood up, glaring down at Rafe, “You’re lying. That’s what you do. You manipulate. Just like how you manipulated me in the quiet room.”

Rafe laughed loudly at that, “I manipulated you? Or were you just desperate for someone to want you?”

“Fuck you.” Your voice broke as tears pierced your vision.

“Well, I would’ve if your precious doctor hadn’t stopped us.” Rafe stood with you, stepping close enough to touch but he didn’t, “You know what I’m talking about. You know when a man wants you. You’re really telling me you haven’t noticed?”

Rafe’s words embedded themselves into your skin.

Not Dr. Mooney. No.

But you weren’t sure. Not anymore.

Rafe sniffed, licking his lips as he stared down the beach, “He may say he cares about you, but he doesn’t. You’ll see for yourself. Just wait.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice shook.

“Fine.” Rafe caught your chin, forcing you look up at him, “You say that now. But when you see what I’m talking about, don’t come running to me.”

With that, Rafe left you where you stood. You kept your arms wrapped around yourself, uncomfortable. Today was supposed to be a good day. A beach day with Rafe. But now, you wished for nothing more than to be locked within the confines of your room.

Storming towards the canopy, you ignored the concerned looks Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney were sending you way. Turning your back to them, you slipped back into your cropped hoodie & jeans.

“_____? Are you alright?” Dr. Mooney asked from behind you.

“Fine.” You feigned a smile, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dr. Mooney stood to your right. You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid you’d see what Rafe insisted was there.

“Yes. I’ll be nearby.”

Passing by him, you slipped your shades onto your face to hide the tears that threatened to fall. This beach day could go to hell for all you cared.

part five(:

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theteasnake · 1 month ago

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Ghostface: The Bitch

He is the Entity's golden and problem child and gets the most privileges than the others. Being on friendly terms with him tends to reward you with similar luxuries. The Entity also speaks to him the most, although it's mostly just him having a one sided convo with himself until the Entity replies.

Before the Game showed up, he was offered his own cabin on the outskirts of the survivor camps. It's still there and is mainly used as his stalking hq.

He's quicker than most to catch up on modern slang. Half the time he hates it and half the time he finds it amusing to confuse the other killers with it.

"I'm a murderer, not a monster!" - whenever he's accused of any crime that isn't a murder, even if it's as small as stealing.

If put in the same area as Freddy Kruger, it's on sight. He hates the burnt man with a passion.

I don't think he has a canon age, I couldn't find one, but I'd say he's around 21-22. He only visited a handful of towns and lays low between each one, and assuming he killed his father at 16-17, I think 21-22 is a good estimate.

He has conflicted feelings about his father. He both loves and loathes him.

Narcissistic? Mayhaps. ADHD? 100%.

He's got a celebrity crush on the Trapper. Nothing will come of it, but he will fanboy about Evan.

I feel like he'd enjoy Fallout Boy, especially American Psycho. Along with unhinged modern pop like Joyride.

Chaotic bisexual with no preference. Maybe a hint of demiromantic. Idk, you gotta be really interesting to prevent him from murdering you but you'll just end up with him unhealthily obsessing over you.

This man is an asexual and you can't change my mind. He's probably tried but gave up ten seconds in cause it's not as thrilling as murdering. Plus, why would he do something that's just cheap adrenaline when he can get pure adrenaline from killing?

Adrenaline junkie.

Isn't allowed to try gambling, drugs, or anything else that can turn into an addiction. He gets addicted very, very easily.

He smoked for a very short time before he was taken. He quit cause he didn't want to fuck up his lungs. He picked it back up when he was taken, cause why not? He defo thinks it's hot.

Not fond of alcohol, it clouds his judgement and he doesn't trust himself to not kill on a whim while under the influence.

Thinks the simp survivors are funny. But will cut a hand off if they try to touch him inappropriately.

Best way to seduce him as a survivor is to just be good at kiting. He loves a good challenge and if you manage to stay alive for a good period of time, he'll let you live as a reward. Plus, he loves his final girls.

People tend to think he's a dog person, they're obedient and man's best friend. He's actually a cat person, they're much like himself. Stealthy hunters. Dogs are too loud and clingy.

Has never hurt an animal outside of hunting. He has no reason to, humans are more fun to go after.

Probably enjoyed Deadpool comics before being taken. He also shares the same humor as DP. Add in a sprinkle of puns and bad dad jokes.

Has a collection of secret photos of his favorite killers.

Has attempted to kill fellow killers just for fun.

The definition of "fuck around and find out".

You know that meme of how guys won't bat an eye if they're injured but act like they're dying when they have a simple cold. That's Danny.

Very expressive and dramatic with his movements. Mainly cause you can't see his expressions behind the mask.

Would be a theater kid if he would've been allowed.

He's got trauma. This man has trauma. I doubt it would've been easy to be raised by a military dad. Plus, I doubt his mother was in the picture or very involved.

Isn't allowed to cook or make food for others. He's attempted to poison and drug people various times. Just cause.

Is very fidgety and stims a lot. Taps his fingers, chews on pens, humming and whistling, leg bouncing, etc.

Occasionally pretends to be a friendly killer just to down them all. He likes to see the betrayal in their eyes.

Views the Legion as a group of little shits. Doesn't care for them but they try to follow him around whenever he's not at the Game.

Don't leave him in the same room as the Trickster. It could end in either a bloodbath or Danny coming out confused and dressed head to toe in merchandise.

He knows he's not allowed to harm the survivors outside of the trial, but that doesn't stop him from scaring the shit out of them.

Sometimes he'll pretend he's a survivor to gain access to the survivor camp.

Doesn't like Tapp, and thanks whatever being out there that he didn't have someone like him in his world.

Very judgy.

Mori pictures of his favorite survivors are kept in his wallet.

Ya'll need to stop trying to justify his kills. You treat him like some vigilante trying to clean up the streets, when he wouldn't even touch fellow criminals with a 10 inch pole. It'd be a boring story if the resident aggressive drunk is murdered, but the well loved waitress, on the other hand, would make a great headline.

Probably dreads office and water cooler talk. Unless it's gossip. He's always down from some gossip.

Names almost every inanimate objects after his favorite subjects/victims. He's got bad emotional attachment to the objects. Like really bad.

Touch starved. Probably has never been hugged.

Does not do well with heat. Every time he ends up in warmer states or working in the summer, he's like "why did I do this to myself?"

Self hatred? Nah. Can't hate yourself if you don't know who you are.

Anger issues to the max.

Once accidentally broke Philly in a fit of rage and almost drove himself off a bridge. He fixed the camera, don't worry.

If he does choose to be friendly (to spice things up) and the survivors still run from him or keep stunning/blinding him, he'll tunnel them. He does not have patience.

Stabbing is his love language. He's currently being taught that that's not healthy. It's a work in progress.

Gift giving is his other love language. Though, it's mainly dead bodies and mori photos. Like a cat leaving dead mice for their owner.

Gets disappointed when other survivors don't join in on the photo. They're labeled boring and get tunneled.

He's got so many scars from his subjects fighting back. They're like trophies to him.

Isn't allowed to have caffeine, especially in the Entity's realm. Last time he had it in his world, he almost murdered a whole family in one go. When he had it in the Entity's realm, he had so many trials lined up but the high didn't wear off afterwards and he attempted to break into other killers' trials.

The type of pet name he gives you is determined by how he feels about you, regardless of gender. Princess is mainly applied to whiny and bitchy people. Babygirl is used sarcastically or affectionately depending on the scenario. Dollface or doll is saved for those that has peaked his interest or people he deeply cares about. Then you have your usual; cunt, bitch, mother fucker, asshole, dipshit. Sweetheart and toots are reserved for Amanda.

He swears like a sailor.

Is a natural night owl. Make him wake up before 11 am and he'll stab a bitch.

He used a voice modifier in his world, but he has no use for it in the fog. He still has it. It's named Roger.

He makes so many references to so many horror movies. It doesn't matter if whoever he's talking to has seen it or not.

Saw someone headcanon him to be autistic. Yeahhh. That's all I gotta say. Yeahhh.

Very common for him to not eat for days. Only because he forgets to eat. Same thing happens with using the bathroom. He just forgets.

Probably had fangirls in his world. He planned to kill one just to see what would happen. Never again. Just. Never again. The horrors he found in their bedroom could never be removed from his brain.

Depression? Can't be depressed if you're high on adrenaline 24/7.

Is a college drop out. He only started it as one of his identities. It was... boring.

Frat parties or parties in general is the bane of his existence. It's hard to stalk someone if they keep blending in with the crowd. But it's a good place to off someone, if he can keep his eyes on them.

Don't let him have access to anything that can start a fire. The Entity learned that the hard way.

#dbd #dead by daylight #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd ghostface #dbd danny johnson #ghostface #he's so babygirl

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yagamisdiary · 1 year ago

Note

can we have some parasite or eldia headcanons on how they acted as kids 😭

omg yes !! i’ll do parasite first and then if u guys also want eldia lmk

parasite yn:

- was the type of kid to dig up worms in the backyard and keep them in her pockets to show ppl randomly for shock factor (i see her doing this with frogs and lizards too)

- used to hide in the kitchen cabinets to see how long it would take for her parents to find her

- once pretended to play dead at the public swimming pool and ppl actually began freaking out

- her dad had a lot of tattoos so she would color them in with markers whenever she was bored

parasite eren

- used to play an insane amount of call of duty

- his mom used to call him a stalker because he used to be everywhere anywhere at anytime and would just stare at ppl in silence (u know what scene i’m referring to)

- he has a total of 26 scars, a majority coming from childhood and forcing himself to learn how to skate

- used to own every skating magazine and wore Thrasher and Golf religiously in middle school

sasha

- was a surprisingly a picky eater for the first few years of her life and would only ever order dinosaur chicken nuggets until one day her dad convinced her to try something else and she never looked back

- used to be called the “jump rope queen” in elementary school and held the record for longest time spent without messing up

- her family are the richest farmers in Paradis and she grew up around a lot of animals. she has a horse, two pigs and several chicken

- used to think bloody mary was real and refused to be in any room with a mirror and the lights out

hitch

- was in beauty pageants at any early age until she got kicked out of one for cheating and sabotaging other girls

- has a childhood dog named lucky which her family recused from getting hit on the street

- preferred moths over butterflies because she was sad they didn’t get as much love

- used to beg her parents for quarters to get stick on tattoos for the machines

connie

- starting wearing cologne at a very early age because he was terrified ppl could smell that he hadn’t showered yet

- was that kid that had permanently orange fingers from too much cheese puffs

- type to smell his clothes on the floor to see if they’re clean or not

- won the talent show three times in a row in elementary for break dancing (it was the same routine every year)

jean

- only child energy of a rich family so he literally gets whatever he wants, doesn’t really know how to save money just asks for more

- tried to learn how to skate with eren once, failed miserably, and never bothered to try again

- cheese stick addict

- once fell off a moving truck and broke his arm

mikasa

- learned how to play piano and violin early on

- won the spelling bee once and never bothered to do it again

- was the kid who constantly asked where babies come from

- type of kid to get a new article of clothing and wear it to death

historia

- was in ballet for several years

- went through a phase where she was obsessed with chewing gum

- used to go shopping with her mom and lie to their dad about it

- had a cat that would sleep with her every night

#parasite

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funkylilworm · 4 months ago

Text

My Smiling Friends oc

Name: Berri Octopusian Picklish

Age: 35 yrs old

Gender : Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Species: Critter

Job: Smiling Friends

Voice Claim: AM from I have no mouth and I must scream (but imagine it with a New York accent)

youtube

Hobbies:

Cross dressing, conning and/or scamming people, lock picking, pick pocketing, gambling, pranking , and Wood working

Personality:

▪︎Positive-

◇Ambitious

◇Loyal

◇Charming

◇Easy going

◇Spunky

◇Witty

▪︎Negative-

◇Sleezy

◇Greedy

◇Mischievous

◇Money driven (Materialistic)

◇Takes his job seriously, because money

◇Alcoholic

◇Cynical

◇Snarky

▪︎Nuetral-

◇Pessimistic

◇Sly

◇Suave

◇Assertive

◇Impulsive

◇Laid back

◇Unhinged

Loves:

Vodka (favorite) , champagne (favorite), beer (favorite), money ,anything that has to do with money, steak (favorite food) , Chinese food , egg rolls (favorite food) , Cross dressing, conning and/or scamming people, lock picking, pick pocketing, gambling, pranking , and Wood working

Hates:

Teenagers, society , obnoxious people, traffic, waiting, long lines, rude clients, Hangovers, vomiting , pushing and shoving, loud chewing, mouth breathers, loud noises, cops , being alone, crowded spaces, and clothing tags

Trivia and/or Headcanons:

☆Berri's full name is Berri Octopusian Picklish

☆Berri has undiagnosed Depression and PTSD

☆Berri has around 17 Exes and 18 enemies

☆Berri goes through so so so so so so so much Trauma (he's my punching bag, my Butter Stotch if you will)

☆Berri has both mommy and daddy issues, both of Berri's parents wanted a daughter

☆Berri has both mommy and daddy issues, both of Berri's parents wanted a daughter . Infact during Berri's childhood the two tried to abandon him multiple times only for little Berri to always return .

☆Berri has an older sister named Princess ,and she's the golden sibling of the family (she also has a thick valley girl accent, with a hint of New York twang to it)

☆Berri was very energetic and bubbly when he was a child

☆Berri becomes more and more traumatized at the end of almost every episode

☆Berri has a human roommate and/or Bf named "Artie White" ,who's a stoner that makes food Asmr and game plays online, YouTube

☆Berri hates when his jobs ends up turning into misadventures and/or unexpectedly gets way too out of hand, infact because of it Berri's catch phrase is "This isn't apart of my paycheck!"

_______________________________________________

Name: Princess Zeniya Picklish

Age: 40 yrs old

Gender : Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Species: Critter

Job: Frowning Friends

Voice Claim: Cree Summer (but imagine her voice with a mix between a New York and Valley Girl accent)

youtube

Hobbies:

Fashion design, scrapbooking, nail painting, Shopping spree, handicraft , thrill-seeking, rock polishing, sky diving ,and traveling

Personality:

▪︎Positive-

◇Diplomatic

◇Independent

◇Confident

◇Tough

◇Easy going

◇Meticulous

◇Nuturing (She's literally an older sister)

▪︎Negative-

◇Prideful/Cocky

◇Stubborn

◇Egotistical

◇Competitive

◇Petty

◇Snarky

◇Deceitful

◇Rebellious

◇Perfectionist

◇Devious

▪︎Nuetral-

◇Rude

◇She really really loves looking at her reflection

◇Girly

◇Analytical

◇Detail oriented

◇Skeptical

◇Free thinking

Loves:

Woman, cigarettes (she's addictive), Fashion design, scrapbooking, nail painting, Shopping spree, handicraft , thrill-seeking, rock polishing, sky diving , traveling , strawberry cake (favorite food), Sushi (favorite food), mozzerella sticks (favorite food), Spaghetti (favorite food), and coffee

Hates:

Berri (him and her has sibling rivalry), both of her parents, teenagers, society , obnoxious people, traffic, waiting, long lines, rude clients, Hangovers, vomiting , pushing and shoving, loud chewing, mouth breathers, loud noises, cops , being alone, crowded spaces, and clothing tags

Trivia and/or Headcanons:

☆Princess's full name is Princess Zeniya Picklish

☆Princess has diagnosed ADHD and Depression

☆Princess is a lesbian

☆Princess works at Frowning Friends

☆Both Berri and Princess has both mommy and daddy issues, both of their parents wanted a daughter (hence why they favored Princess so much)

☆Princess is the golden sibling in her family and in fact was a lot more favored than Berri during childhood

☆ Princess has a younger brother named Berri Octopusian Picklish, and because of how she was raised her relationship with Berri is strained

☆ Princess has no idea how to cook, she tends to often accidentally burn things

☆She's an ex hit woman and because of it she knows how to fight

☆Princess owns a motorcycle

☆ Princess's voice is a mix between a New York accent and a Valley girl accent

Physical appearance :

Dark turquoise body, round body with lanky arms and legs, a few inches shorter than Berri, two brains on the front side of her head, a poofy bun at the back of her head, and scribble like pupils

Clothing appearance:

Neon green hair bow and light blue heels

#oc shit #original charater art #original character stuff #original character #smiling friends #smiling friends oc #Smiling friends original character #Berri #Youtube

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valyalyon · 7 months ago

Text

May 2028 - August 4, 2028

Previous Post | Next Post DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE DIVIDERS

CW: mentions of pregnancy symptoms, smut, explicit language, unprotected intercourse, dub con, dv, drug and alcohol addiction, pregnancy loss. MDNI. 3.9K words.

May 22, 2028.

My work week had started and I wasn’t entirely feeling well. I hadn’t been feeling well for a couple of weeks now, but I had mostly been identifying the nausea as the consequences of a stomach bug my kids had.

While they had overcome it relatively quickly, mine lingered. I tried not to think too much of it at first, but by that day it had been too much.

I took my break early and then went to the bathroom. My final idea had been to take a pregnancy test, so I did. I decided to wash myself clean while the test result loaded.

By the time I was done cleaning myself, the result was on the test. Pregnant. A part of me didn’t want another child so soon, but I was admittedly happy.

…

When Raphael came home from work that night, it was during dinner time. I was overseeing the boys as they ate and helping Eden eat.

Theo grinned when he saw Raphael, and waved at him. Followed by an excited Leon spitting out his food and running to hug his dad.

“Woah kid,” Raphael chuckled, picking him up and kissing his head, “don’t spit out the nice food your mommy cooks for you.”

Leon, with horror, realized what he had done, “down dad!”

Raphael put him back on the ground only for Leon to return to his seat and continue eating hungrily.

“Love food, mama,” Leon spoke in between chews.

Raphael choked back a laugh, “ew, boy… You don’t talk with your mouth full. Enjoy the food and talk after you’ve swallowed.”

Leon opened his mouth, aghast. He had heard this numerous times from me, but his father’s comment seemed to straighten him up.

I couldn’t help but laugh, and then I turned my attention to Eden.

Eden looked at her dad with a careful expression. She was at the stage where she still didn’t really trust her dad. She was thirteen months old.

When dad came down for a kiss, he gave her one first on her head, and then offered his cheek.

Eden stared at him for a second, then looked at me, back at her dad. She kissed his cheek, three or four times, before smiling.

Finally, he came to me. We shared a sweet kiss in front of the kids. He always liked showing them that mom and dad were in love and happy.

I decided to tell him there, “I took a test… I’m pregnant.”

His eyes lit up. He always asked for us to have another baby, so hearing this news really elated him, “that’s amazing. How far along did the test say?”

“8-10 weeks,” I told him, smiling as he kissed me again.

“Probably got you pregnant around Eden’s birthday or after my birthday party,” he did the math lazily, happily littering my face with kisses.

June 26, 2028.

“From what you told me,” the Doctor said, looking over the ultrasound tech’s report, “and from the report… looks like you’re starting your 14th week today, due by December 31st I’d say?”

The news filled us with a lot of joy. Maybe too much, even.

…

Soon as we arrived back to our car, Raphael began to step in front of me to get the passenger door. I spoke up though, “the back seat… we can be quick.”

He opened the door for me, leaning in and kissing me on the lips before I got in.

A second later, he’s on top of me… The car isn’t on and it’s hot in the Phoenix summer. It had rested in the shade so it wasn’t too hot just yet.

I kissed him as he spread my legs and began to slip his cock into me. I was normally a little drier with everyone since I was so small, but sometimes I was irrationally horny while pregnant.

That was one of those days.

He groaned, “shit, you feel so good… You’re so wet. Is this because of that guy touching you?” As he said this, he began to thrust in a harsh rhythm.

“Fuck, be careful,” I pleaded with him, kissing him and rubbing my body along his, “remember, I’m pregnant. You don’t get to be a jealous asshole when I’m pregnant. You’ll hurt the baby.”

He hesitated, calming his strokes, but lifting his body slightly to hover over me, “Stop avoiding the issue.”

“Are you really jealous of the ultrasound technician?” I asked him, eyebrows furrowing, but my hips continued to move along his cock.

He went so deep and I felt extra sensitive. Every thrust felt amazing, and my breasts were so sore to his touch. He gripped them, sucking on them soon after.

I trembled and moaned, “Raphael… that feels soo good… Oh, ohh…”

He kissed me on the lips, biting my bottom lip, then saying, “your body is mine… I hate when anyone else touches it.”

“My body is all yours, Raphael,” I promised, trying to make him forget it all. I moaned happily to his deepening thrusts.

He wrapped his fingers around my throat for a second, kissing me at the same time and forcing his tongue in my mouth.

I melted, my hips grooving to his aggressive thrusts. He just sped up, and then I felt him begin to cum just as I neared my own orgasm.

His balls released torrents of cum into me, and I looked into his eyes. I made sure to pull every last drop of semen out of his cock. The pressure of my walls encouraging everything out.

I came too, leaving a trail of my cream joy along his cock.

He quickly pulled out and got dressed after giving me a kiss. He got into the driver’s seat as I got dressed, “do you want me to go right now or wait for you to be dressed?”

“Go now… I’m sure your mom is annoyed that we aren’t back yet,” I said, slipping into my clothes again.

July 31, 2028.

On the first day of my 19th week, I went to the doctor with Raphael for another check in and a gender scan.

At the beginning of the consult, the doctor mentioned that he wasn’t entirely sure if the baby would be big enough to see gender but they would check anyway.

We went to the room with the tech and I laid in the bed. The tech was the same man we had been having, but I never even noticed him. My eyes were always glued on that screen.

Raphael held onto my head, watching the screen from his feet.

The tech spoke to both of us, “the baby is developing a little faster than we’d expect, I can see the gender now. Would you like me to tell you?”

Normally we planned something to find out with the family. I never asked before, but… Maybe I knew.

“Tell me, please,” I nodded my head.

Raphael, a little thrown off, still agreed, “yes, tell us.”

“Here… you’ve got a boy,” the man smiled at us.

My heart fluttered, seeing him on the screen, moving just slightly inside me. He was so tiny, and he was mine. He was ours.

I turned to see Raphael teary-eyed, and kissed him. He kissed me back happily and then chuckled, “you got a knack for making boys, Dolores… I can’t wait to meet my third son.”

“Isn’t that final chromosome your fault?” I tried to tease him.

He might have let me get away with that if no one else was in the room, but the ultrasound technician chuckled and agreed, “technically is your fault, man…”

Raphael, maybe trying not to snap, laughed and said, “technically don’t remember asking you to speak.”

“I’m sorry, he didn’t mean that,” I calmly tried to de-escalate the situation.

“Absolutely I meant it,” Raphael spoke up from behind me.

“Okay, we’re done with that,” I snapped at him.

Raphael scoffed, and then turned to the ultrasound tech, “we’re definitely done here. Anything look off about our son? Anything else you need to look at? Or can you finally take your hands off my woman?”

I sighed in exasperation, “Raphael…”

He didn’t budge though, and the ultrasound tech pretended to look around for another minute, before updating my chart and leaving.

…

As soon as we got in the car, the argument started. I asked him, “why did you have to be so rude to the ultrasound tech?”

“Are you having an affair?” He returned the question heatedly and completely warped.

“No! Why are you like this? I’m pregnant with your son,” I showed him my pregnant belly.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy being touched by him,” Raphael continued his accusations.

I groaned loudly and then rolled my eyes in his direction, “well I don’t.”

He didn’t like my response. He made that clear by smacking me hard across the face, “don’t fucking look at me like that again! Don’t you fucking dare.”

I turned to look at him, but he hit me again before I could meet his eyes. He smacked me even harder this second time, and I heard a ringing in my ear, “Raphael… stop…”

He grabbed me by the neck, his fist squeezing at first as tight as he could. He loosened his grip a lot, but left his hand there, “I’m not afraid to hurt you, so why do you act like I won’t?”

My eyes met his. Mine were tearless, but wide and shocked. The ringing had faded as I spoke, “sometimes I just think you’re better than that.”

He releases my neck, so he can hit me across the face again. As our eyes meet, this time, his are full of a deep sexual need.

He groaned and grabbed me by the neck, kissing me. During the kiss I heard movement. When I looked, he had taken out his cock and was stroking it.

It was rock solid, and the tip pulsating. He opened my mouth with his tongue, and then shoved my mouth around his cock the moment he got a chance.

I was suffocated by it immediately. He went all the way down my throat, and my heart was racing. He had hit me and it hurt, and I wanted to give him consequences…

He had just hit his pregnant wife.

But, I couldn’t think of consequences.

My mouth just wrapped around obediently. I sucked on his throbbing cock happily as he started driving us home.

Any time I tried to pull away for longer than a second, his hand would be at the back of my head again. He’d shove my head down back onto his cock, and he would pull my hair in a rhythm along him.

I took it every time, because I couldn’t help myself. He tasted amazing and I just constantly desired him. Even this negative attention… what was I doing? It turned me on, so much…

When he pulled into our neighborhood, I realized he didn’t pull into our driveway but that of his mom’s house. He parked the car in reverse, facing us towards the street.

His seat was rolled all the way back already from his height, so he just lifted me off the seat and began to lower my pussy over his cock.

Again, so turned on from my pregnancy hormones, I just eased my way onto his cock and began to bounce on him. I squeezed his dick, feeling every vein.

Anybody that walked by would be able to see us through the front windshield, but that just made me want to be quicker. My breasts were free, moving with every thrust.

Both of his hands were occupied with holding me up, but that didn’t stop him from peaking his head over and sucking on my breasts.

“Sensitive�� Sensitive…” I kept moaning, shaking as I jumped along his shaft.

“You want this, Lola… don’t fucking lie to me… I’m going to cum inside that little pussy, you whore… No one else gets to do that. Just me,” he groaned, thrusting up to meet my pussy.

I began to twitch and cum, shaking as I moaned, “fuuck, Raphael! Right there, yes…”

“Take my cum, baby, take it…” He muttered, beginning to reach all the way to my cervix and releasing more cum into me. He rubbed my clit as he continued to cum, “all of it, my Doll… don’t leave anything.”

My hips moved along him as I accepted every bit of him into me.

Immediately after we both finished, the speaker in his car played his mom’s ringtone. He answered, and I scrambled to get dressed while he pulled his pants back up.

“You’re late,” his mom said, irritated.

“We’ll be there in less than five minutes,” Raphael commented, followed by an I love ya mom, and a quick ending of the call on his part.

August 1, 2028.

Theo’s fifth birthday.

How has he grown so fast before my eyes? Will I always feel this much pressure seeing my babies grow up?

Raphael and I awoke before the sunrise, exchanging sleepy kisses in the darkness of our bedroom.

And your heart, love, has such darkness, I feel it in the corners of the room.

Theo had recently been move into a shared room with his brother, while Eden slept in the nursery still.

So, Raphael and I tip-toed through the dark halls to the boys room, and walked in. Raphael turned the lights on as I went to Theo’s bed, kneeling beside him.

I began to sing, “happy birthday, Theo,” in a soft voice, touching his dark brown curls sweetly. My other hand began to nudge him slightly, as my voice got a little louder.

Raphael joined me in the singing, just as Theo’s blue eyes opened.

As he heard the familiar song, his eyes lit up and a smile began to spread on his tired face. He met my eyes and reached out to hug me, “thank you, mama…”

“Happy Birthday, my little teddy bear,” I smiled completely, pulling my son into a tight hug.

He reciprocated, and then said, “thanks, dad!”

Raphael smiled at him and ruffled his curls a little more, “Happy Birthday, Grizzly Kid.”

Theo laughed, smiling at Raphael and still hugging me.

I pulled away for him to hug Raphael, but Theo clung on for a second longer, his eyes shifting away from his dad to me again.

He looked at me with concern, “mama… why is your cheek so red?”

I hadn’t looked in the mirror, I had been in the dark until that point… But, my first son’s tender blue eyes were full of pain and worry — on his birthday, how unfair.

I looked around the room into a reflection that captured me. I was standing there in their bedroom, my long, curly brown hair falling messily along my body.

My honey eyes scan the glass only to find a deep red palm print along my cheek under my eye. My hand went up to touch it, to see if it hurt. It was tender and sore, and slightly elevated.

Behind me in the reflection is my husband. He stands tall, but his eyes are dark and hard to read. His hands move to me, touching my waist and shoulder hotly. Returning me to reality.

My eyes shift back onto my Theo, who’s lips were scowling in an almost puppy-like way, I began “honey…”

My husbands fingertips pressed deeper along where he held me. I could feel the fire in his touch. In that moment, without speaking, he commanded me, “tell him you did it to yourself.”

“This really isn’t anything, Theo buns,” I pulled away from my husband quickly, taking my son back into a hug, “no scowling on your birthday! Mama is fine, let’s wake up Leon and Eden and let’s all celebrate with dad.”

Theo scanned my face, but if I was good at anything it was lying under pressure.

Soon, we woke up his siblings.

The day was spent as family time.

Paybacks for kids and you say that I act like a kid.

The night, after they were back in bed… That was a different story.

Raphael and I went outside.

I was shaking, my anger felt like it was swallowing me whole. I didn’t feel like treating him kindly, I had played his game all day.

“Look at my fucking face,” I told him, approaching him.

He had barely looked me in the eye all day, even then just glancing over at me and back into the desert around our home.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He responded defensively.

Could you last a day in my position? Understand the pain that you’re dismissing.

“FUCK YOU!” I shouted back at him angrily, seething, and shoving him hard.

He took a couple steps back but quickly regained his composure. His anger was all over his face, as he turned to face me.

“Don’t fucking shove me, you dumb bitch! This is how all our physical fights start, don’t —”

Payback’s a bitch and you say that I act like a bitch.

I smacked him across the face, hard.

He looked surprised but quickly turned to me again, “are you fucking insane?”

“Did you like that?” I asked, sweetly. My voice teased him.

His eyes were still so furious, “you don’t get to hit your husband.”

I got closer to him, my face searching for his, “but you get to hit your wife, though?”

“There’s different rules for women in my religion and you know that,” his response was short.

My voice heated, my eyes red, “I don’t care. I don’t give a single fuck.”

“Stop fucking talking to me like that,” he interrupted.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” I interrupted him in return.

He was so different these days and I could never really figure out what it was. How can you not give the man you love the benefit of the doubt?

We used to fight before — I thought it wasn’t anything… I thought it wasn’t ever going to get worse… Not like this, this isn’t the same.

He’s not like this sober.

But he hasn’t drank.

So, if it’s the alcohol, why did he grab me after what I said?

“I’m going to fucking hurt you,” he promised, his hands digging into my arms on either side. His tall body was trapping me and I felt suffocated.

I stared up at him, my heart was racing as I tried to struggle my way out. His grip was so tight. I pushed against his chest as he pulled me in but I got nowhere.

The last time anyone held me this tight, it was my lying ex when I was a teenager.

I looked up at him in my struggle, “what the fuck are you doing, I’m pregnant!”

“Oh my fucking God, Dolores. I’m not going to hurt our baby,” he seethed this out but I still didn’t believe him.

For somebody I thought was my savior…

Why? If he’s sober —

Why did he push me towards the house? Why did he barely catch me before I hit the ground? He picked me up though, carrying me inside.

“We won’t fight… Today is Theo’s birthday and tomorrow is Leon’s…”

That was all he said, joining me in bed.

And the silence haunts our bed chamber...

August 2, 2028.

Leon’s 3 years old today. He’s so handsome and serious, his father’s duplicate with soft black hair and my honey eyes. He laughs so much with his brother, and only with his brother.

His little mind is so creative, calling his brother “Bear” and his sister “Bunny”, and saying that his name is spelled LION.

For his birthday wish, he wrapped his arms around my neck and whispered, “I want big dogs to play with.”

True to his word — Raphael and I haven’t fought.

August 3, 2028.

Taken from a short form pregnancy journal:

Time: 7am. what happened? lot of pain, contractions… or cramps… cramps…

Time: 7:30am. what happened? got up to pee, bizarre discharge

Time: 8am. what happened? pain is a lot worse, waking Raphael.

Time: 8:30am. what happened? used the bathroom again, tried to poop, nothing. pain doesn’t feel like gas.

Time: 9am. what happened? I don’t feel well anymore, we’re going to the hospital.

Time: 9:30am. what happened? checked in.

Time: 8pm. what happened? discharged after hours of testing. The baby seemed fine, my pregnancy is going smoothly. going home.

Something is still wrong, but nobody believes me.

August 4, 2028.

I woke up that morning with Raphael, as I soaked our bed in blood. I was extremely confused, miscarriage risks are really low…

Why…

I’m sobbing as we get out of the bed. It’s a crime scene, and I’m shaking uncontrollably.

I don’t want to wake my children but I am destroyed.

Raphael took off the sheets like he remembered me telling him before. Except, last time I had gone into labor. This time, my body was giving up on me.

I fell to the floor and just cried as Raphael came to my side, “come on…”

“What?” I asked, my eyes full of tears as I stared up at him. I was in so much pain, my body cramping.

“I have to take you to the hospital,” Raphael told me, reaching down to help me off the ground.

I didn’t want to but I stood, and went with my husband to the hospital.

My third son was taken out of me at 4:44pm. The world went silent when I felt that happen. When I realized I didn’t have him. When I knew I’d never see him grow.

I cried for hours, and even long after we were sent home. I wasn’t making a noise anymore, but my tears had kept flowing.

It felt so stupid, I felt so terrible. I didn’t know who’s body I was in anymore, I was spiraling.

Raphael disappeared when we arrived home.

At first, I didn’t want to look for him but it was dark outside and I had no idea where my husband was. I was vulnerable and just desired to spend time with him.

I looked around the house and ultimately saw him through the kitchen window. He had just stepped outside with some liquor but as he sat on our patio sofa, he pulled out a pill bottle from his pocket.

There was no label on it, but there were multiple pills. He dropped an amount I couldn’t see into his palm. From there he put it in his mouth, and then took a shot straight out of the whiskey bottle.

My husband hasn’t been sober. He’s been doing pills, along with his alcohol addiction. I don’t know when I last saw him sober. Did I ever know him sober?

I turned and went back to our bedroom, getting in my pajamas and then in bed. I hid under the blankets and tried to fall asleep.

This one took forever to put together!! Sorry about the delay. So glad I have time before I have to post the next DIE post, because it'll probably be another long one.

SONG REFERENCES De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier Payback by BAD CHILD labour by Paris Paloma

#dub con #tw dv #bully #jealousy #dead dove do not eat #smut #writeblr #lyondie #bluestlyon #original story #booklr #dark romance #literature #creative writing

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apompkwrites · 2 years ago

Note

Pastry Shop is open, what are they getting

♤

Sans!Zigvolt

Assorted but small.

He usually isn't motivated to get a specific treat, but he usually gets a small tray/bin of different treats for himself and Yuu to try.

"Neh, I should charge you for this, Yuu." He chuckled, muching on his small Ma'amoul. "But, I'll let it roll off the tab this time."

Yuu groaned. "Not funny."

"Yeast (Yes), I am." He pronouncing the Yeast weirdly causing Yuu to groan at him.

"I am once again asking you to stop." Yuu pouted.

Ingo!Vanrouge

Not applicable

He's the assistant of the pastry chef, so he's tried just about everything in the shop.

"Ah, thank you for giving me some to take to the others! I know they'll love this!" The assistant told the chef who laughed at his outburst.

"You spoiled them rotten." The chef said with a shake of his head.

"They deserved it!" The latter said, carrying the package of treats back to NRC.

Crowley!(Name)

Cannolis

He just loves them and doesn't share unless Yuu hasn't eaten anything due to his dad's incompetence.

"May I have one?" Grimm asked, watching the latter slowly chewed the cannolis.

"No." He said bluntly. "And, don't try to use Yuu as excuse either."

"NEH?! I would never!" Grimm protested.

'X to doubt.' The latter thought.

Che'nya!(Name)

Cream Horns

He doesn't buy, but "steals" it from the shop. By steal, he doesn't know that Ingo!Vanrouge often pays for his cream horns before he leaves for NRC.

"What do you have there?" The pastry chef stopped him.

"Just a little gift, little chef......" He held up two fingers in a peace sign and disappeared in trace of blue smoke with his "stolen" goods.

"Hehe, I wonder if I should tell him that Vanrouge-senpai already paid for him. Maybe next time." The chef chuckled at latter's disappearing act.

EVOL!Schoenheit

Gulab jamun

He's been all over the Twisted Wonderland, finding different fabrics and got addicted to these. He honestly didn't think the pastry chef knew how to make them, but was surprised when he did.

"I didn't think he did deliveries." The latter was making another cosplay from a request by a person named Yuu who requested something odd. "Well, back to figuring how to make this "Childe" cosplay." He glanced back at the drawing Yuu sent him before popping the treat into his mouth.

Bodyguard!Al-Asim

Cronut

He actually heard about the treat from Yuu and asked the pastry chef if he knew how to make it.

"It's delicious, thank you for getting this for me." The latter mumbled shyly, eating the sugary treat and holding the bag that was filled with the rest.

"Always happy to see you enjoy yourself!" Ingo!Vanrouge told him with a small smile. "Let us know if you have any other requests." He gave the latter a pat on the head causing the latter to look a bit flustered and looked away awkwardly.

waaa pastry hcs <333 (hc that lil clover opens one up don't @ me)

yes yes sans!zigvolt being the one to just grab whatever bc they wanna share with friends :DD same with ingo!vanrouge! just a lil bunch of traumatized babies taking care of other traumatized babies

crowley!(name) indulging in their cannolis and only sparing them for yuu bc they share a distaste for their father (caretaker/boss in yuu's case)

i think it'd be funny if che'nya!(name) knew that the sweets were paid for but just pretends they don't? idk just a funny lil reverse thinking going on with the cat <3

evol!schoenheit being a lil recluse hehe. just wanna enjoy their lil pastries in peace <33

hnggh bodyguard!asim is probably really iffy on sweets being handed out bc possible poisonings but will not hesitate to eat them just bc they'd rather be poisoned than their family :((

#a pompk answers #black sheep #a danika redgrave's rambles

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system-of-a-feather · 2 years ago

Text

By the way, do whatever cringey shit it takes to cope in the healthiest way possible and make decisions in your best interest.

Like this body has a horrendous oral fixation, and Aderis and myself have really bad impulse control when we are stressed + an really strong drive to use substances which our body has actually managed to very well dodge solely because we have obsessive, control freak, super stressed and anxious parts for better or worse. It's something I used to hate the fuck out of and think was excessive but thinking on it, its definitely a good idea cause we have 0 resistance against any form of addiction and very easily develop psychological dependence on things that aren't even chemically addictive, so like 100% if we were to dip our toes into that, it could easily be an avalanche

Even said, specifically for me, the urge to start smoking is stupid hard to deal with a lot of the time between my very very very intense oral fixation, my impulsive short sighted "funny and aesthetic" brain, and the fact I'm a mentally ill traumatized bitch and like, ever since I've been back and aware of myself I've been like "I REALLY want to smoke" and everyone in the system being like "NO." and then them chucking me a different chew toy to help redirect that urge and energy

But at a certain point our crackhead child (little, nickname) grabbed a tooth pick to chew on or something I forget, and my brain fucking clicked that it very deeply itched the exact need and feeling my brain needed almost perfectly without actually having the chemical shit. And a lot of the time when I'm chewing on one, I'll unintentionally and without thinking of it, handle it like a cig because my brain just substitutes the psychological itch.

My "predecesor" in the system (aka Aderis) had a similar issue with drinking and while mine came more intuitively, but she figured out in early middle school that since we had no access to alcohol and "would die" if we tried, she just pretended Dr Pepper cans and bottles were booze and told herself it was a depressant that numbed and calmed shit down. To this day, Dr Pepper post-breakdown mostly actually mellows us out and lowers anxiety which is wild since Dr Pepper has caffeine which is supposed to do the opposite

And yeah, is it cringe for someone to act as if a tooth pick is a cigarette? Yeah, is it cringe for someone to act and treat Dr. Pepper like its alcohol? Yeah. But is it better to be "not cringe" or cringe and not slipping down a really unhealthy slope?

Not saying its bad to have picked up the habits or to have substance use issues - god no. That shits complicated, rough, and honestly - if it wasn't for the fact that the system has done an amazing job keeping the body clean - probably would use them myself.

But like, main point is that fucking like. Be cringe if that helps you live a healthier life and / or a life closer to what you want.

People can call me a cringe edgelord wanna be for how I handle my toothpicks, cause I really don't care about 1) being an edgelord beyond the meme and 2) don't really care what people say about that cause I do this cause it makes me feel good and helps me think and process shit better and I'd rather have a psychological dependence to toothpicks than I would to tobacco and nicotine. If someone has an issue with that, thats their problem.

#alter: xiv #substance abuse tw #substances tw #coping #idk just something I'm thinking about cause of shit I was talking to our fiance about #he was like ‟dude XD stop using the toothpick like a cigarette‟ and I was like ‟... huh #I guess I am lol #gonna keep doing it but interesting

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and-then-there-were-n0ne · 9 months ago

Text

Many things disturbed me while watching those recent U.S. Senate hearings on whether social media platforms are promoting or at least allowing sexual solicitation of minors, child porn, drug sales, bullying, and content promoting eating disorders and suicide. We saw parents holding up photographs of their dead children, some driven to suicide by mass shaming, or the fear of it when children are sextorted (that is, tricked into sending photographs of themselves fully or partially naked by criminals who then demand money, repeatedly, to not post the photographs online).

“How can you do this to our children?” the senators asked, in a variety of ways. The response from the social media executives was usually some version of “But Senator, we spend X billion dollars each year to create industry-leading tools to find and remove such content.” That phrase, “industry-leading,” was used six times during the hearing; five times by Mark Zuckerberg, and once by Shou Chew from TikTok.

But as I watched the hearing, I kept thinking about how content moderation is to some extent a red herring, a distraction from larger issues. Yes, it must be done and done better, but even if these platforms could someday remove 95% of harmful content, the platforms will still be harmful to kids. The discussion of online harms can’t just be about making an adolescent’s time on Instagram safer, not even 95% safer, because so many of the harms I describe in The Anxious Generation are not caused by bad content. They are caused by a change in the nature of childhood when kids begin to spend many hours each day scrolling, posting, and commenting. Even if Instagram could remove 100% of harmful content and leave only photos of happy girls and young women enjoying their beautiful lives, the effect on adolescent girls would still be devastating from the chronic social comparison, loss of sleep, addiction, perfectionism, and decline of time spent with their real friends in the real world. [...]

And then I came across a quote from the great media theorist Marshall McLuhan which brilliantly captured exactly why it is a red-herring to focus on content. In his 1964 book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, McLuhan tried to explain the profound transformation of society brought about by electric communication technologies, from the telegraph and telephone through radio and TV. Electric technologies gave us a very different world from the print-based world that began when Johannes Gutenberg invented the printing press in the 1440s. McLuhan tried to explain to his readers the ways that these technologies changed people’s habits, minds, selves, and societies, but all people seemed able to think about was the explicit or implicit messages conveyed in television programs and advertisements. Does that advertisement contain a subliminal message about sex? Can’t we just regulate the content of advertisements and shows better? No, said McLuhan, you’re missing the point, because the medium is the message.

When television swept to dominance, everything (including the news and the coverage of elections) became a form of entertainment, to be consumed passively, and this changed American society and democracy in ways that are hard to articulate but surely disruptive. Here is how McLuhan put it:

The threat of Stalin or Hitler was external. The electric technology is within the gates, and we are numb, deaf, blind and mute about its encounter with the Gutenberg technology, on and through which the American way of life was formed. It is, however, no time to suggest strategies when the threat has not even been acknowledged to exist. I am in the position of Louis Pasteur telling doctors that their greatest enemy was quite invisible, and quite unrecognized by them. Our conventional response to all media, namely that it is how they are used that counts, is the numb stance of the technological idiot. For the “content” of a medium is like the juicy piece of meat carried by the burglar to distract the watchdog of the mind.

Yes! This is the difficulty I have when I try to explain how the rapid transition from flip phones to smartphones with social media (and thousands of apps) changed childhood in harmful ways in the early 2010s. I repeatedly encounter some version of the criticism that social media is not intrinsically harmful to children because “it all depends on how kids are using it.” Many of these critics believe that we should not enforce even the current low and unenforced age limit of 13. Rather, we should help our 10-year-olds to manage Instagram, TikTok, and Snap in a better way, reading and posting healthier stuff. No! I mean, ok, that would be better than the current situation, but our kids would still have phone-based childhoods, the mental health crisis would continue to rage, and they’d still have difficulties making the transition to adulthood. The medium is the problem.

The leaders of those tech companies did all they could to keep the discussion within the “numb stance of the technological idiot.” You can even see McLuhan’s point in Mark Zuckerberg’s famous quasi-apology to the parents of those dead kids:

I'm sorry. Everything that you all gone through, it's terrible. No one should have to go through the things that your families have suffered and this is why we invest so much and are going to continue doing industry-leading efforts to make sure that no one has to go through the types of things that your families have had to suffer.

In other words: We’re already the best in the business at content moderation, so I can’t promise you that we’ll do better in the future, but we’ll continue doing what we’re doing to remove harmful content from the 5 hours that your children now spend each day on social media.

Let me be clear: there is no way to make social media safe for children by just making the content less toxic. It’s the phone-based childhood that is harming them, regardless of what they watch. Kids need to be freed from the grip of smartphones and social media, especially through early puberty.

#social media #jon haidt

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writingsofwesteros · 2 years ago

Note

Would you think about doing a part two for dressmaker for daemon and a part for Corlys Velaryon where they now have two children together and she’s giving birth to their third child please.

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

The sobs escaping you echoed around the room as you curled on the floor. You didn’t know how long you had been crying for now. The beautiful sheets of silk dotted around you and you cared nothing for them. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. The memories of your now dead mother haunting you.

You were thankful that you had this sanctuary that you still hadn’t shared with anyone other than Daemon. Your stomach began to rumble and you wondered when you had last eaten. Such trivial matters seemed to float from your mind. “Y/N..” Your name was softly muttered as the door slowly opened.

Your tears continued to fall as you leaned against the wall. Your hands in your lap as you turned to see your uncle. “Daemon.” You whispered up at him through a soft sob. His eyes melted for you as he moved to kneel down. “Shh, you are okay.” Daemon whispered; his fingers brushing your locks from your face. You moved to cuddle into his side as you tried to fight against the sobs. “Shh, I’m here now.” Your prince hummed. “It hurts.” You cried out as you burrowed into his neck. His calming scent moves over you. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” Daemon gently rocked you as the moments passed by.

You moved onto his lap now and gently placed your hands on his shoulders. The soft tears still fell. “Shh.” Daemon continued to try and comfort you as his fingers moved through your locks. Your hands settled on his shoulder. You gently rested your head on his as your noses brushed together. “Have you eaten?” Daemon whispered into your ear as a moment of silence moved past you both. You could only shake your head as you burrowed into his neck some more. His arms are only tightening around you. “You should.” He continued as his fingers moved through your locks so gently.

“I can’t.” You whimpered out and burrowed into his neck some more. His hands continued to stroke you. His fingers begin to play with the ends of your hair as he keeps you close; consoling you. You rested your head on his as you tried to calm yourself. Your heart is finally beating slower now. Your eyes locked onto his own as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your emotions all over the place. Your noses brushed against each other as your eyes slowly moved towards his soft looking lips. There were no thoughts moving through you as you leaned in and lovingly captured his lips.

His eyes widened but it wasn’t long before the rogue Prince gently took control of the situation. His fingers moving to the back of your neck. Your hand moved up his chest as your tongues finally met. The moments passed by so easily as you melted against him. “Daemon..” You softly whispered out.

He didn’t respond as his hands continued to move up your sides. His hands are moving to your chest now. “We shouldn’t..” The Prince slowly pulled away and watched as you breathlessly whined for him. Your cheeks flushed as your confused emotions moved through your body once more.

“Please..I need this.” You whispered out. Your pretty face is a mess with tears and sadness that he could only melt for. “Shh, I’m here.” Daemon hummed and if he was a better man; the Prince wouldn’t have lent in for another soft, sensual kiss. You moaned as his tongue slowly moved to your own.

“I need you.” You whimpered out as he pecked your lips again and again. Your body began to rock. “You have me.” Daemon promised and leaned to capture your soft lips once more. His own eyes fluttered softly shut. His words seemed to calm you as you finally rested your head on his.

His hands slowly moved down your back before resting on your arse. A sweet blush moved over your cheeks. You returned back to hiding into his neck as you softly mouthed at his skin. Your fingers moving into his own hair. Your lips soon found him again. You were addicted to them now and the desire that hummed just under the surface since the visit to the brothel began to spill over.

“I need you.” You whispered again and again; so prettily in his ear as your hands moved down his body. “Are you sure?” Daemon whispered and couldn’t stop himself from hardening. He had wanted you for so long. “Yes, please…” You were hardly thinking of anything but him and any consequences could be damned.

You rested your head on his for a moment before he leaned in and lovingly captured your soft lips. You whimpered as he slowly palmed at your arse. Your dress becomes bunched at your hips. Your hand moved to his pants once more and before the rogue Prince could stop you; you pulled his cock free.

He gently found your hand and brought it to him. “Good girl.” Daemon whispered up at you as he taught you to stroke him. “You want me?” You hummed as your thumb slowly moved over his weeping head. Daemon moaned and his hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back with soft moans.

“Always.” Daemon whispered to you as his hand slowly moved down your chest. His fingers deliciously began to tease your soaked pussy. You whimpered and burrowed into his neck as he began to lower you. “Oh, so big…” You whimpered; your mind not thinking of anything else but the delicious stretch.

His smirk came across his face as he slowly moved to palm at your breasts. Your own legs were shaking as you finally took all of him in. “Fuck..” The rogue Prince moaned as his hands reached for your arse once more. His movements continued to be slow as he brought you against his chest.

You moaned and whispered his name as he slowly began to thrust inside you. He easily brushed against your soft spot with each stroke. You both lost yourself in the moment as the pleasure and emotional support had you becoming closer and closer to climaxing. Daemon was no better as he whispered your name.

His plan worked so prettily, he thought to himself whilst bringing you in for a loving kiss. You were his now, forever.

TAGLIST

@heartysworld

@janelongxox

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lettherebrelight

@writerslove2403

@opheliax98

@bshelley322

@casualheartadorable

@kittycatcait219 @lilyviolets

@multifndom @7minutes-tomidnight

@savage-aespa

@kid-from-new-zealand @mypatrochilles @ladystardvsts

@thekayarlene

@sandronebabyy

@ivanna6026

@bubblebuttwade

@rosesinmars

@believeinthefireflies95

@vivalarevolution @my-dark-prince

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #game of thrones imagine #daemon x reader #request

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theferricfox · 2 years ago

Text

[[A/N: this started as a random headcannon I thought of as I was driving to work today and then I talked about it on discord and it.gave me more ideas and suddenly it's a thing now. So here you go. Enjoy.

Content warning: mild child abuse?? Maybe?? It's more implied than anything, I guess. But mostly Kenny is just mean. Also Levi needs a hug.

ACQUIRED TASTE

It took a few months, but Levi is finally starting to get used to food on the surface. At first, he found the stews served in the mess too rich, the spices too strong. The thickened broth felt like sludge on his tongue and he had to force himself not to gag the first few times he ate it. Now, the stew is comforting, a sense of ‘home’ that he’s never quite had, and he savours the chew of potatoes in each bite.

He’s learned not to eat so quickly, too. In the Underground, if you had anything counting for a decent meal, there was a chance someone would try to take it from you. Back then, he’d had to eat as quickly as he could chew and swallow down the half-rotten mass that passed for food, but now he can take his time. Everyone gets the same portions, everyone eats. He’s still taking that part in; none of the soldiers go hungry. Everyone gets to eat every day. Even though some of the cadets gripe that it’s bland and meager compared to what they got back home, he can’t help but be grateful to be able to eat decent food multiple times a day, every day.

His first taste of Surface bread was a surprise, too. Bread was uncommon Underground; the dampness made it prone to molding quickly, and more than half of the flour was cut with sawdust anyway. When the delicate crumb of the roll given to each soldier with dinner first entered his mouth, he was taken aback. He’d rolled the piece on his tongue for a moment, taking in the texture, somehow both fluffy and dense, and the chew of it was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He admits to himself now that he struggled to maintain his impassive expression during those first few meals on the surface.

Now, as summer beats heavy rays on the ground, lending a gentle tan to his otherwise pale skin, he finds himself walking with Erwin to a local restaurant in town. Erwin told him that it’s one of the best in this area and since they have some time off, invited him to lunch. Although Levi is still wary of Erwin, still trying to figure him out, he can’t deny that he’s drawn to the tall blonde, and he enjoys the friendship they’ve started to build. The invitation to lunch was a surprise; on most days off, Erwin spends his time reading or catching up on paperwork, but today he seems determined to spend the day away from headquarters.

The restaurant sits on a river that winds through the outer portion of the town. The simple wooden exterior somehow glows in the early afternoon sun, the windows reflecting the rays to hide the interior. A sign hangs above the door, proclaiming the name of the establishment, and a small one stands near the entrance, listing the day’s specials. Levi observes the list with curiosity; he’s never heard of the dishes advertised on the slate.

It’s clear that Erwin comes here fairly often when the waitress, a pretty older woman with soft brown curls and a white apron, calls out to him in greeting. Her eyes are gently lined with wrinkles, and Levi thinks about people her age in the Underground; either already limping on bones too soft from lack of sunlight or hopelessly addicted to some drug or other. He fights back a smile at her good fortune as she floats over to Erwin, green eyes alight.

“You’ve brought a friend today, Erwin?” she says. Her voice is like a song sung in spring; Levi can’t remember the last time he heard such a soft woman’s voice, at least not one spoken so naturally and not forced to urge customers inside.

“Yes, this is Levi,” Erwin introduces, gesturing at him warmly.

“Nice to meetcha, hun,” she says with a wink.

“Likewise,” Levi manages. He tries to make his voice friendly, but he’s still not used to just chatting with people. He’s impressed that Erwin can manage it so easily.

“Your usual spot is open, love,” the woman says to Erwin. “I’ll bring you menus in a minute.”

She drifts away and Erwin guides Levi to a table in the corner. Levi hurries to put himself in the chair against the wall facing the rest of the restaurant. Instinctively, he touches the handle of the knife at his belt, the blade embedded in his shoe. He flinches when Erwin opens his mouth to say something and hesitates, unsure how to broach the subject.

“It’s easy to get attacked when you’re eating down there,” Levi says, lowering his eyes. He feels a strange pang of shame inching through him, prickling at his neck and flushing his cheeks. “Anyone wanting to steal your food or take advantage of a moment of vulnerability. I have to…” he pauses, clenching his fist. “I had to be ready and careful.”

To his relief, Erwin doesn’t offer some useless platitude laced with pity like, “well, you don’t have to do that here. You’re safe here.” Instead, he regards him with those blue eyes and mutters a quiet, “I see.”

The waitress flutters back to the table and settles a pitcher of water and two sheafs of paper, written in a flowing cursive.

“Anything else to drink, fellas?” she sings.

“How about a pot of tea, Mable?” Erwin smiles at her warmly.

“Sure thing.” She glides away, the bell of her skirt swelling as she departs.

Levi turns his attention to the writing on the paper in front of him. Although he can read and write, this script is harder for him to discern; the loops and swirls are so dainty and more elegant than any writing he has seen. He glances up to see Erwin watching him, his face blank.

“Yes, I can read,” Levi spits instinctively.

“I never said you couldn’t,” Erwin says plainly.

The statement catches Levi off guard. He expected some defense or… he doesn’t know what. A question? A demand of proof that he can, indeed, read? He watches Erwin’s face, waiting for more, but his companion’s face continues to stare back, impassive and unreadable. It’s unsettling being under this level of scrutiny without the immediate response being a punch to the jaw.

“This writing is just hard for me,” Levi says at last, pulling his eyes back down to the script. “No one I knew ever wrote like this.”

“Admittedly, Mable’s writing is a bit of a challenge for me, too,” Erwin replies with a chuckle. “I think she learned calligraphy as a girl and then took it a little too seriously.”

Levi doesn’t respond, stows away the word calligraphy in his head to look up later. He would rather die than ask Erwin what that word means.

“So, what’ll you have?” Mable is suddenly back, laying a pot of tea and two cups on the table.

Erwin looks at Levi expectantly, waiting for his answer. Levi feels his face start to flush.

“You’re clearly a regular, Erwin,” he says, folding his arms. “I’ll have whatever you’re having. I trust your judgment here.”

“Two specials it is,” Erwin says with a gentle smile.

Mable gives a chirp of acknowledgement and flits away.

“What’s the special?” Levi asks, reaching for the teapot. He pours for Erwin first and then himself before setting it down on the table.

“It’s a fish they catch in the river here. Cooked in fat with herbs and served with boiled vegetables.” Erwin retrieves his cup and brings it close, inhaling the steam wafting from it.

Levi hums, trying to imagine the dish. He’s never had fish before. He’s not even sure he’s ever seen one.

“Thank you for pouring the tea, by the way,” Erwin says. His smile is genuine and soft, and Levi can’t stop a small one from creeping onto his own lips.

“Yeah, of course.” He sips cautiously from the cup. It’s not the best tea he’s had by any measure, but it’s competent, and he’s pleased by the taste.

“Did you know that before Humanity retreated to the Walls, there were countries where it was considered rude to pour tea for yourself before you poured for others?” Erwin says. His tone is almost conspiratorial; it makes Levi’s brow hitch up.

“Is that so? And where did you hear that, huh?”

Erwin pauses. Some emotion Levi can’t identify flashes over his features for just a moment. Then, his gaze becomes distant, even as he holds his eyes on Levi.

“I read it in a very old book once,” he says simply, and does not elaborate.

Levi contemplates the statement. He’s certain there’s some other meaning, or some information that was supposed to follow that statement, but decides he won’t press. Instead, he decides to offer Erwin a gift in return.

“In the Underground, it’s customary to pour for your tablemates before yourself,” Levi says. He remembers learning this the hard way, the beatings he took as a brat when he poured for himself and not for anyone else. He remembers the men he gave beatings to for the same infraction. “It’s a token of goodwill, an invitation to share a meal as opposed to fighting for it.”

Erwin takes this information with the slightest smile on his face, but doesn’t say anything.

“You would also drink from it first,” Levi says, taking a sip as if by example. “To prove it isn’t poisoned.”

“Sounds like a delicate dance,” Erwin comments. He sips from his cup, closes his eyes and enjoys the flavour.

“Everything is down there,” Levi says and instantly regrets the statement when Erwin opens his eyes and frowns at him, concern pulling his eyebrows together. He’s quick to follow up: “It’s not a big deal. You get used to it.”

Erwin hums in response but the concern lingers just long enough for Levi wonder if he said something wrong. To his relief, the waitress returns, drifting to the table with two plates held aloft.

“Lunch is served, boys!” she sings, placing the plates down. “You let me know if you need anything else.”

As she floats away, Levi looks down at the dish in front of him. The fish is whole, its clouded gaping eye staring straight to the ceiling. The scales are somewhat browned, contrasting with the silvery flecks that sparkle in the light from the window. It sits on a bed of asparagus and potatoes, and an aromatic sauce with herbs he can’t identify pools underneath everything.

Levi watches Erwin open the fish; it has been split open down the belly, and delicate white meat glistens. He watches as Erwin pushes his fork into the flesh, pulling up thick strands of fish and dips it in the sauce before placing it in his mouth. He moans his satisfaction.

“They debone the fish before cooking it, so you don’t have to worry about eating around them,” Erwin says after he swallows. He smiles softly at Levi, locking his eyes with the warm blue of the sky swirling within them. “Enjoy.”

Levi follows Erwin’s lead, using his fork and knife to open the fish’s middle and scooping out some of the flesh. He raises it to his nose, smelling the herbs, a hint of something acidic, and what he assumes is the smell of the fish itself. He places the piece in his mouth, chewing slowly to absorb the flavour.

It’s horrible. The fish tastes like dirty water and mud. The texture is slimy and the muscle fibers fall apart in his mouth like logs being dislodged from a cart. He fights the urge to gag and swallows. He’s left with an aftertaste on his tongue that he can only describe as filthy.

Levi tries the vegetables. He knows he likes potatoes, and although he’s never had asparagus before, he finds the vibrant green of the spears appealing.The potatoes are soft and familiar and the asparagus is still somewhat crunchy, and the taste reminds him of when he pinched a maple leaf through his fingers to smell the essence of the greenery. Both are tainted by the sauce, clearly cooked with the fish, and the flavour of the vegetables is almost completely hidden if he doesn’t search for them with his tongue.

Despite the disgust washing through him, he eats, trying to hide the grimace that threatens to darken his face with each mouthful. He tries to imagine the flavour of something more pleasant to cope.

“Levi?” Erwin’s voice pulls him from his concentration. “Do you not like it?”

Levi looks up and is stunned by the look on Erwin’s face. Concern is etched there, and something resembling sadness. Levi feels guilt, knowing that he holds the tools that carved that look into his friend’s features. More than that, he feels bad for disliking a dish Erwin clearly enjoys and ordered for him. It was a gift, sharing a part of himself with Levi, showing him something he enjoys, and Levi is taking it for granted.

“It’s fine,” Levi says, sniffing. He brings another forkful towards his mouth but is stopped by Erwin’s hand on his wrist, holding him still.

“You don’t have to eat something you don’t like, Levi,” Erwin says carefully. “We can order something else for you.”

Levi isn’t sure what to say. The horrid fork of fish hovers less than two inches from his face, and the smell is starting to make him nauseous. He slowly places it down, the fork gently clanking onto the plate. He opens his mouth, trying to think of something, anything to say. Something witty, something that will make Erwin stop staring at him with that forlorn look on his face. Nothing comes to mind. He closes his mouth, looks out the window, and clenches his jaw.

Levi watches Erwin get up from the corner of his eye but doesn’t follow his trek across the restaurant. He listens as Erwin speaks in low tones to the waitress and although he cannot hear their conversation, his ears burn with embarrassment as he thinks about what she’s saying about him not liking the food. He’s not sure he’s ever been so mortified in his life.

Erwin returns to the table and pulls Levi’s plate over to his side. Levi would be pissed at him for saying something to the waitress if he didn’t have such a mournful look. He settles for a scoff as he reaches for his tea.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Levi says.

“You don’t have to eat something you don’t like,” Erwin repeats.

“What’s going to happen to that one?” Levi asks, pointing towards his former plate.

“Oh, I’ll eat it,” Erwin says. “So if you’re worried about it going to waste, rest assured it will not.”

Erwin picks through the rest of his plate with ease and waits to start in on Levi’s when the waitress returns, setting a plate in front of Levi. She does not chastise him, nor does she apologize. Instead, she gives him a genuine smile and says, “Enjoy!”

Before him is a roasted chicken breast, skin crispy and coated in a fine dusting of cracked pepper. Next to it are potatoes, similarly roasted, and asparagus. Using a new fork and knife that suddenly appeared next to the plate, he cuts through the skin of the breast and into the meat. It glistens with juices as the flesh separates under his knife. He hesitates before bringing the piece to his mouth, aware that Erwin is watching him.

Levi has had chicken before; not often, but enough times to know roughly what it tastes like. In the Underground, real meat was ridiculously hard to come by, and even then, it was either half-rotten or counterfeit. After a particularly lucrative job, he would treat himself, Isabel, and Furlan to a chicken dinner, paying the absurd price for a live one, and then the absurd additional price to have it killed, gutted, and plucked in front of him. It was the only way for him to know he was getting exactly what he paid for. Paying someone else to cook it properly was another drain; Levi frequently found his share of the take was gone by the time the dinner was prepared, but it made his friends happy and put good food in their stomachs, so he had been happy to skimp for a few days after.

Now, as he sits with a piece of chicken on his fork, real chicken raised on the Surface, he is overcome with a sense of nostalgia. He misses his friends. He wishes they could have tasted this food, even if he didn’t like it.

Finally, he puts the meat in his mouth, chewing slowly, and the flavour is nearly enough to bring him to tears. It’s juicy and tender, not the tough, scrawny meat he had in the Underground. It’s bursting with a taste that can only come from being raised in the sun, and he relishes it. He takes a second bite and then a third before remembering Erwin’s eyes on him. Levi feels his face flush as he returns his gaze to Erwin, expecting his companion to laugh or tease him. Instead, Erwin is looking at him with relief and a fond smile.

“You like this better, then?” Erwin asks softly.

“I do,” Levi admits. “Thank you. For ordering it for me.”

“Of course,” Erwin replies, before returning to his own plate.

Levi continues eating, adding a roasted potato to his mouth. It’s drier than he’s used to, the feel on his teeth is different, but he doesn’t hate it. Still, he likes potatoes inside of a stew better. The asparagus has a similar taste to when it was paired with the fish, a flavour that only makes Levi think of the colour green. He decides he doesn’t necessarily like it, but he eats it all anyway.

He and Erwin eat in relative silence, pausing to thank the other for pouring another cup of tea. When both plates are empty and the bill is paid, Levi follows Erwin out of the restaurant as the waitress bids a hearty farewell to them. Instead of heading towards headquarters, Erwin turns the opposite direction, guiding Levi down a path that traces along the river.

“I hope I didn’t put you on the spot too much, ordering you something else,” Erwin says after a few minutes of silence.

“Don’t worry about it,” Levi responds quickly, instinctively. He cringes at his defensive tone and decides to try again. “It’s okay, really. Thanks for doing it.”

Silence walks between them. Although this is fairly standard for them now, enjoying each other’s company without needing to fill it with words, this time feels heavy. Levi can feel that Erwin wants to ask him something but isn’t sure how to say it. Levi decides to open the door first.

“You never know when your next meal is coming down there, no matter how successful you are,” Levi says quietly. Erwin stops and turns to face him, and Levi halts, too. “You never know, especially not when you make your living as a… like I did. And you didn’t always get the luxury of eating whatever you wanted. You didn’t get a menu in a restaurant like you do up here. You sit down at a tavern and you eat whatever they put in front of you.” He pauses, takes a breath. “If you’re lucky enough to be able to shop at the street vendors selling real food, you had to just buy what you could afford and would give you enough energy to keep going. Most of it was halfway to rotten anyway, so you could never eat all of whatever you bought, unless you had a strong stomach for it.”

Erwin is silent for a long, agonizing moment, staring him down.

“So you ate things you didn’t like the taste of? Did you do that often?” Erwin finally asks, and his tone is so sad Levi has a wild urge to hug him. Instead, he offers a mirthless laugh.

“Of course I did. You learn to ignore it, fight back the urge to gag.” Levi feels defensive now, though he isn’t sure why. “You either suck it down and be grateful for something in your stomach or you go hungry. It’s not like up here where you can just choose from a piece of paper with fancy writing on it and then send it back for something else if you don’t like it.”

Levi’s voice has more bite than he means, but he’s suddenly swarmed with memories. Of when he told his mother he didn’t like something she’d managed to buy for them and she sadly begged him to eat it and think of it being something else, something tasty. Of Kenny, backhanding him in the mouth when he said his food tasted like shit. He’d thrown the dish against the wall, making Levi jump as it shattered into pieces and clattered to the floor. Kenny had tied him to the table and told him he was going to sit there all night and look at the food he’d wasted. Before he left the room, he’d told Levi that if he found any of that food gone, he’d beat the shit out of him. Kenny didn’t come back for two days and by that time, Levi had been so delirious from hunger, the first time it’d been so bad since his mother died, that he’d gratefully eaten the horrid bowl of mush that was shoved in his face.

He never complained about food again.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Erwin says, bringing him out of the memories trying to drown him. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Levi comes back to himself with those sad words and realizes his fists are clenched so hard his nails have bitten into the skin of his palms, making them bleed. His cheeks are wet from a small trickle of tears that have escaped from his eyes. He rubs them roughly away and turns away from Erwin, towards the river.

“It’s okay.” Levi says, and he means it. He’s not mad at Erwin. He’s not even sure that he is mad. “It’s not your fault.”

Erwin’s hand settles on his shoulder, a gesture Levi knows is meant to be friendly, consoling, but he can’t stop himself from gently leaning into the body standing next to him. He finds comfort in the warmth pressed against his skin, even as the sun continues to warm the air around them.

“Can I ask you a favour, Levi?” Erwin says suddenly.

“Yeah?” Levi responds, hoping Erwin won’t ask him to stop leaning into him.

“If we’re out and you eat something you don’t like, please tell me. Please don’t be afraid to ask for something else.”

Levi pulls away and looks up into the deep blue eyes he’s losing himself in more often these days. He studies Erwin’s face and finds no deceit, no pity, no disgust. Just empathy. Levi feels something inside of him soften.

“Yeah. I will,” he says at last.

“Thank you.” Erwin returns with a warm smile. After a pause, he continues, “So, what do you like?”

“I… I don’t know,” Levi says. “Even the same food tastes different here. I feel like I have to relearn tastes all over again.” He offers a chuckle, hoping Erwin understands his joke.

To his relief, Erwin laughs softly.

“Well, I guess it’s up to me to help you figure it out.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“We’ll go out for lunch every day we have off and you can try new things."

Levi thinks for a minute, absorbing the offer.

"Alright," he says. "I'd like that."

—--

Levi looks at the small notebook in his hands, his scattershot handwriting crawling the pages. The pages he has open have a list on each side: one says 'LIKES' and the other 'DISLIKES.' Under each header is a list of foods Levi has tried and placed into these categories.

The last few months, Erwin has been taking him to various restaurants for every conceivable meal so Levi can taste what the surface world has to offer. He's found that soft and sweet apples are bland and boring, but crisp and tart ones light his taste buds up in ways he can't describe. To his shock, eggs have made it onto the LIKE list.

In the Underground, he hated eggs; the sulfurous smell of half-rotted sludge was enough to make his stomach turn whenever he was around them. The fact that they were always overcooked to kill of as much bacteria as possible didn't help. Eating them made his guts feel rancid and bloated, so he had avoided them as much as he could.

On the surface, eggs can be cooked in a variety of ways, from fried in fat with soft runny yolks the colour of the sun to boiled until they become like a firm jelly. He likes most preparations of eggs, but he enjoys them scrambled with just a hint of pepper the most.

He does not like spicy food. Hot peppers and the spices they yield make his mouth burn and his guts twist. The first time he ate a spicy dish, he coughed violently, rushing to put his napkin in front of his mouth so he didn't spit onto the table. Erwin had asked if he was okay and after a violent shake of his head, his friend had gotten the message and requested a different dish for Levi.

Now, as he sits in a small bakery with Erwin, a cup of tea at his lips, he wonders where the items they've ordered will land on the pages before him. They've ordered a slice of several kinds of tarts as well as a chocolate cake that Levi found very appealing to his eyes.

"I'm surprised you asked to come to a bakery, Levi," Erwin says. He finishes rolling down the sleeves of his shirt and buttoning the cuffs.

"Why is that?" Levi asks, arching a brow.

"You just don't strike me as a sweets kind of guy."

Levi shrugs, sips his tea.

"I guess we'll find out."

It turns out that Erwin is right. Most of the things he eats are fine, but certainly not a favourite. He flips the page in his book and adds those to the 'OKAY' list. The strawberry tart is too sweet for him, and he hastily offers the rest of the slice to Erwin, who enjoys it immensely.

When Levi bites into the chocolate cake, he struggles to understand the combination of earthy and sweet of the chocolate. He must make a face as he tries to reconcile the tastes on his tongue because Erwin frowns.

"No?" Erwin asks.

Levi pauses, then his lips lilt into a smile he gives only to Erwin.

"I think this is the perfect thing to share," he says warmly. He cuts a piece and holds his fork out to Erwin, aiming at his lips.

Erwin grins and opens his mouth. Levi slips it into his mouth, and Erwin moans in satisfaction and he swallows.

"You're right," he says. "It’s perfect for sharing."

Levi slides the plate to the middle of the table and they share the rest of the cake. He's grateful that Erwin doesn't mind sharing; the richness of the chocolate would have him struggling to finish the piece.

The table cleared, Levi finishes his tea and leans back, satisfied. Just as he's about to suggest they go for a walk before heading back to headquarters, a slice of another tart is placed in front of him. He looks to Erwin after he thanks the server.

"I took the liberty of adding something to your tasting menu today," Erwin says. A coy smile settles on his features as he steeples his fingers under his chin, eyes eager. "After watching you try things for the last few months, I took a guess about something you might like. It's a lemon tart."

Levi eyes him with some suspicion before cutting a piece off with his fork. Erwin watches him earnestly as he carefully places the piece in his mouth.

He is blown away by the flavour. The tartness of the lemon, a fruit he's never heard of before, breaks through every taste lingering on his tongue, bright and summery, as though it was made of the very essence of sunshine. Underneath the lemon, a crumbly crust, buttery and sweet, lends themselves to a balance that Levi has never experienced before. A soft whipped cream, unsweetened and floating atop the tart, seals everything together in a silky texture that he rolls over on his tongue until it seems to melt.

He doesn't realize his mouth is gaping after he swallows until Erwin laughs brightly.

"So I was right?"

Levi regards Erwin for a moment, before shoving another piece into his mouth. Instead of eating it, he stands, crosses the length of the table, and presses an open mouth to Erwin's own, forced open by a squeeze to his jaw. Lips locked, he uses his tongue to shove the piece of tart into Erwin’s mouth, before pulling away.

"You tell me," he rasps, his nose barely brushing Erwin’s as his companion struggles to regain his breath.

Levi returns to his chair and sits, arms crossed, smirking. Erwin hesitates, wide-eyed before chewing the tart.

"Yes," Erwin says, clearly flustered. "It's definitely the perfect dessert for you."

Later, as Erwin is paying for the desserts, Levi opens his notebook and flips to a new page. At the top, he writes, 'LOVE.' Directly underneath, he writes, "lemon tart."

Below that, he writes, "Erwin Smith."

#levi ackerman #erwin #eruri #if you read between the lines #but at the end it's pretty much there #i relate to levi's feeling about food scarcity childhood more than i care to admit #these boys are so soft #ferricfox writes

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caibagender · 2 years ago

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Good Morning/Night!

So, as a Ducktales fan, I wanted to provide some of my own headcanons!

DELLA DUCK

• In all honesty, I think she would be the type to have gotten a sperm donor instead of having a one night stand or settling down with a male duck.

• She is a terrible mother and I wish the show provided more of a growth episode than her neglecting and abusing Louie. I mean, locking him in a room with no food or bathroom, then leaving him alone with a ghost and robot that attacks him based on his thoughts, and finally, who go's on a kids dream trip to teach them a lesson and tells them they can't be apart of the family (that she only just rejoined after years) for being themselves? That's just messed up.

• She gives me bisexual aromantic/demiromantic vibes.

DONALD DUCK

• He definitely knows about Louie's Kids, he isn't an idiot.

• I bet he taught HDL not to call him by parental titles because he didn't want to steal that from Della even with her betrayal.

• He strikes me as the kind of parent who is overprotective and gets exasperated easily but will answer any question and strives to let HDL achieve all their dreams within reason.

• He sent the triplets to school while he worked but would randomly call said school at Recess/Lunch to check that they were okay and behaving because HDL are trouble makers and he's worried about Scrooge's enemies.

• He got help from Goofy a lot as he has parenting experience with Max and is good with young kids.

• Mickey and Minnie would provide him free medical care for HDL and himself as they knew about his money struggles and are certified medical practitioners. (Mickey = Docter | Minnie = Child Psychologist).

HUEY DUCK

• Definitely has autism and butes/chews things/himself/his brothers as a stim

• I feel like he would actually be the second messiest next to Dewey of the three but tries to keep everything clean.

• JWG book and hat are comfort items.

• His favourite genres are fantasy, historical fiction and romance.

• He has small scars on his hands from JWC stuff.

• He likes to read in his spare time.

• He learnt first aid because of the disaster that is Dewey and Donald, but also because Louie gets injured the most

• He is a bisexual mess that falls for Violet when their 14.

• In highschool he joins the student council, dance committee and is Dungeon Master.

• He tutors Dewey and others during Recess.

• Is a good drawer.

• Becomes a chemical engineer and JWC leader.

DEWEY DUCK

• ADHD disaster.

• Is the best of the three at sports.

• Musical theatre kid that takes up drama, basketball and yearbook committee in highschool.

• Did you say dare! I'll do it!

• Becomes a pilot and actor as an adult after serving in the army like Donald (Navy pilot).

• Is an aroace. No time for love when danger is out there.

• Will do any dare that doesn't go against his moral code.

• If you hurt his brothers, be prepared to be beaten.

• Adventures the most as an adult.

• His fashion sense doesn't change much from punk jock at all. Varsity jacket and fingerless gloves forever.

• Ends up with a sneaker addiction.

• Gets a pet Labrador or hawk or both at some point to help him know when to stop and eat.

• Forgets to eat or drink and has to be reminded too by his brothers.

LOUIE DUCK

• Saves the Money from Louie's Kids in case of an emergency and for education necause he knows Donald wouldn't otherwise.

• I an anxiety and depression ridden mess.

• Goes to Mickey and Minnie the most due to all the injuries and trauma he receives from adventuring and his struggle with Della's return.

• Has a large online following.

• Is a technology, mathematical and social sciences prodigy.

• Enjoys writing in his spare time.

• Is the only triplet that knows how to cook.

• Is good at arts and crafts (Did you see his board). Specifically fashion and interior design but can draw well.

• Kepps stim toys, pens and notepads in his pockets for his brothers and himself.

• Would end up with a cat one day.

• Goldie taught him how to be a better conartist and to escape any situation.

• Is a sharpshooter and secretly does gymnastics.

• Would join debate and band (drums but can play violin and piano) so he can walk home with his brothers after their own clubs.

• Has a bad relationship with Della so goes to Donald or Goldie if he needs anything.

• Would go through law school but owns charities that he let's Dewey be the spokes person for while he runs side businesses that Huey oversees as he becomes an underground boss to catch criminals for cops/Scrooge. (He's got the reputation, why not use it?).

• He is the Duck family go to when they need a lawyer.

• Funds his brothers, the girls and Donald's lives unlike Scrooge did when Donald moved away to raise HDL.

• Does heists with Goldie for the fun of it more than profit.

• He so learnt magic and became immortal somehow.

WEBBY VANDERQUACK

• Marries Lena (they are cute together even if only platonically).

• Inherits Scrooge's fortune and buisness but Louie has already become immortal and the richest Duck in the world when she does.

• Becomes a spy like Beakley and gets info from Louie.

• Settles into the role of adventurer and buisness owner but adopts children she meets on her adventures.

• I feel like she would renovate the Mansion to be more pink and provides safer storage for stuff. (Seriously Scrooge, a gold hunting dragon in a garage when LP as your driver?).

• Is so the fun aunt/mum

That is all, thank ye for reading!

#ducktales 2017 #louie duck #huey duck #dewey duck #donald duck #della duck #webby vanderquack #headcannons

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birdhouse-lover · 2 years ago

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an analysis of young royals s2

obviously theirs spoilers so read at your own risk.

i’ll be talking about most of the main characters (august, felice, sara, simon, wilhelm and marcus) and talking about my thoughts about them.

august:

i was really really hoping for a redemption arc. i was hoping he meant what he said about being sorry and feeling bad. but the moment he had the power of potential monarchy near him, he turned. he proved that he is a true villain. he wants power and has no true regard for others.

if he continues to be in this show, i do hope they explore his addiction and eating disorder more.

felice:

top tier character. never did anything wrong. that kiss between her and wilhelm. barely mattered. she handled it like a queen. she is such a good friend to Sara and Wilhelm. i want only the best for her.

i hope to look a bit more at what she enjoys doing that isn’t riding.

Sara:

she’s flawed. they all are. i think my biggest trouble with her was that she knew how much the video hurt Simon and she knew August posted it and she still dated him. on the other hand, i know how it feels to fall in love with someone who makes you happy sometimes and really sad others. so her situation isn’t the easiest. most of the problems she had and others might have with her come from the fact that she was either not informed or just didn’t understand.

i hope we can explore her rebuilding a relationship with felice and the other girls.

marcus:

i really likes marcus at first, i did. but then simon tried to break up with him, telling him he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship yet and marcus just. didn’t let him???? that threw me. and then he’s acting all like simon didn’t genuinely like him and was only using him to get back at willie. he’s a little toxic. but honestly, i think he’s also a flawed person.

i don’t have anything i want to explore with him. i honestly do not care if he continues to be in the show.

simon:

simon goes through a lot. he gets his boundaries violated over and over and he really just wants to be respected in his relationship. i think he also doesn’t fully understand willie’s situation. it’s hard to know what other people are going through. i think he was looking for a specific relationship with willie that was near-unattainable. i love simon to death. he is so amazing and easy to sympathize with.

i would love to explore simon setting firm boundaries with others and maybe seeing a therapist because he’s got somethings to work out between the drama he’s been through with willie, his situation with marcus, and his family.

willie:

willie. i love willie. i have diagnosed gad, undiagnosed adhd, and possible autism. i see myself, especially my anxiety in willie. i see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. he fixes his hair. he’s got acne scars, probably from picking at his skin, just like i do. he doesn’t understand why he can’t handle the same pressure that so many others experience. his anxiety attacks aren’t all always hyperventilating. they can be silent, tearless, but so so clear that he is struggling. i also think he could have adhd or autism (or both).

most of all, i want to talk about how much shit he’s been through. he’s 16. 1 year older than me. he’s a child. a kid. he’s just trying to survive life! and he is traumatized. his brother (the only person he felt like truly understood him) is dead, the most intimate moment of his life is posted on the internet, he is betrayed by almost his entire family, and the person that he loves isn’t willing to be in a secret relationship (no hate to simon btw, he was totally right to set that sort of boundary). my point is, he is traumatized, not receiving help for his mental illness and a fucking teenager. this makes him impulsive and say stupid things and do stupid stuff. he is a flawed character, just like everyone else in this show. he hurts people he is close to. he lashes out with anger.

an interesting thing i’ve found about anxiety is that when things get to overwhelming and something is on your mind, it feels like the only way to get that off you chest is to pick a fight. a small one that doesn’t really matter. because you can’t fight the bigger fight.

in the long run, as mad as everyone may be at august, punishing him isn’t going to do anything. the video is already leaked. the damage is already done. but willie picks fights with him because it’s a battle he can win.

i hope to see willie continue to go to therapy and work through some trauma and also be more open in his communication with simon about his feelings and anxiety.

#young royals #young royals analysis #simon #wilhelm #wilmon #i could talk about these characters all day #i love them

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tonguetiedraven · 3 years ago

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Hi, I was just wondering if you have any headcanons for Blue Exorcist?

I'm not sure why, but my mind went entirely blank when I saw this ask xD I've managed to mostly rally my brain cells back together and come up with a few for the exwires and a few general ones :) Rin

ADHD and Dyslexia. (Are those really still head canons or are they considered canon at this point?)

Really sensitive to textures and gets easily distracted and upset if he’s wearing scratchy things.

Loves cuddling. Platonic or romantic is fine. He just likes cuddling.

He has one of Shirou’s rosaries and keeps it with him at all times.

Always chewing on things. Pencils, pens, food, gum, fingernails, sticks, sleeves, anything he can get hold of.

Run’s warmer than most people but is always cold.

Bi. Boy is very bi and still realizing it about himself.

Never really gets sick, even before the demon thing. When he does he’s very quiet about it and tries to hide it until he can’t.

Likes shopping, and doesn’t really care what he’s shopping for. Anything is fun.

Loves kids and is really good with them. Wants some whenever he gets older.

Yukio

Always cold (it’s the depression.)

Loves sweets and never allows himself them.

Thinks slapstick is one of the greatest forms of comedy.

Adores puns and is quick to think of them.

Addicted to caffeine.

Knows Latin

Chose to get the Doctor Meister because Rin’s optimistic belief in him made him want to be a doctor.

Demisexual.

Shadow demons terrified him as a child, and it still makes him afraid of the dark even though he’ll never admit it.

Anal about having his books/manga in a certain order and gets really annoyed if they’re moved.

Ryuuji

Needs glasses and hates them so he bought himself contacts the minute he could.

He gets the migraine from his mother and they’re always aggravated by skipping meals. He carries protein bars around to help avoid missing meals.

Likes to draw/paint to relieve stress and keep himself loose for drawing magical circles. He likes to sketch his classmates and would be mortified if they ever saw his stuff.

Enjoys Japanese operas and has a few entirely memorized.

Gay and very private about it.

I think I have curry as his favorite food in every fic I write, lol. He strikes me as the type to feel guilty about loving something so unhealthy, and rarely allows himself the treat.

Doesn’t care for coffee at all but is addicted to green tea.

Crabby as hell if he has to stay up past his bedtime.

His prayer beads were gifted to him by his father when he was a child and just learning how to chant.

Has a hard time falling asleep without listening to chants.

Introvert and protective of his alone time. If he chooses to give it up for you, you’re important.

Konekomaru

The official bug removed. He has no fear of creepy-crawlies and has been tasked with getting rid of them since he was a kid because Renzou gets loud when there are bugs around.

Prefers reading nonfiction to anything else.

Hates getting up early but makes himself do it anyway.

Has gotten in trouble on numerous occasions for feeding stray cats around the temple.

Renzou

Thank to Rynoa’s fantastic work, I now headcanon him as disliking especially sweet things. He only eats sweets because he thinks girls likes them.

He’s extremely good at figuring out escape routes and always locates the obvious and not obvious exits whenever he goes someplace. Never know when you’re gonna need to escape.

Was scared of Yamantaka when he was little and still doesn’t fully know what to make of him.

He’s seen demons all his life and has always considered Bon and Konekomaru naive to dedicate their lives to fighting them without any real idea what they’re like.

Smart and tries very hard to hide it.

Shiemi

Extrovert but shy.

I also think she’s a demisexual.

She’s seen demons all her life, but they never scared her. She’s always assumed they were friendly unless proven otherwise.

She will prune any plant she’s near. It’s just a habit at this point.

She’ll poke around house plants and check their leaves and soil to make sure they’re happy.

Izumo

Ride or die friend. She will tease/mock you relentlessly and tear anyone apart who dares to do the same.

She knows how to knit and likes to make little dolls. She’s extremely bashful about gifting them.

She adores colorful gel pens and glitter pens.

Vegetarian

General head canons

Mephisto has the sky at True Cross rigged so the stars are visible.

Lewin is connected to Section 13, but not a full clone. I think he was a test subject as a child.

Kuro chases mice away from the dorms when he’s not hanging with Rin.

I head canon Takara is controlled entirely by the demon and in a sort of sleep paralysis state, very occasionally waking from it before the demon sends him back to sleep.

Demons sleep with their eyes partly open (Rin included) so they can keep mildly alert even while they’re asleep.

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #aoex #asks #headcanons #aoex head canons #rin okumura #yukio okumura #ryuuji suguro #ryuji suguro #bon suguro #konekomaru miwa #renzou shima #shiemi moriyama #izumo kamiki

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years ago

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Can you do Stolas with an imp and the imp falling for Stolas but hiding it, Stolas eventually finding out and confessing he felt the same? With Stolas being *ahem* himself per say

Stolas with Imp S/O

Youd worked all over Hell, in many occupations. From cooking to cleaning and a wide variety of maintenance.

And with your extensive experience in so many fields, it wasnt difficult to get a job serving in the prestigious Goetia Palace.

You got used to your duties quickly, thoroughly cleaning the east wing when lord Stolas walked by.

Now you'd only had a brief interaction with the owl Demon during your time at the palace, but by all rights he seemed a decent fellow, at least by Demonic Overlord standards.

However, as he passed by he was confronted by his wife. His wife, Lady Stella, went off on him, demanding to know if he'd prepared for a gathering later that day.

You knew about the gathering, and it was very clear Stolas had not prepared for it.

You watched as the owl sputtered and tripped over his words as he desperately tried to explain to his wife why he hadn't prepared for it.

You don't really know why you did it, most Imps would give an arm and a leg to see a noble being given a thrashing by there wives.

But Stolas didn't deserve such a thing, so you stepped forwards, apologising on his behalf.

Telling her you were still new to the job and he was helping you with an urgent matter and that's why he was unable to prepare for the gathering.

Stella stared at you for a long moment and just when you thought she'd say something, she smacked you clean across the face.

Between Stella's inherent strength and your small size, the smack sent you into the nearest wall.

Stella told you coldly to never distract her husband again, and NEVER address her in such an insolent manner ever again.

Stolas was indignant, yelling at her that that was completely unnecessary. Getting her to out of the room he rushed to your side, ensuring you were alright.

Asking if you were alright, you told him It hurt like Hell, but you'd gone through worse. You had a chuckle before the owl thanked you for stepping in like that, asking why you'd do such a thing.

You told him up front, he was probably the best boss you'd had and you couldn't just watch him be chewed out like that.

After that incident, you found yourself with a day off. Although it was explained by a scheduling issue, you always thought of it as a thank you, from Stolas.

After that, however, Stolas seemed to keep you close, personally asking you to attend to tasks he was unable to, and over time you grew to be his go to Imp when he needed something important done.

You quickly made yourself indispensable to the Prince, using your diverse skill set you could handle just about anything he threw your way.

You would organise his day to day, tell him when and were something important was happening, you were basically his personal assistant and as such you were basically attached at the hip, doing everything and anything to support your Prince.

You spent the majority of your waking hours with the Stolas, and much to your growing dread, you found yourself falling for the Prince.

I mean he didn't make it easy on you. The fucking owl seemed to go out of his way to be as adorable as possible, acting like a big child. And it didn't help that he was genuinely kind to you, caring for you as more than just an asset. He treated you like a respected being.

And getting such attention from a noble, was... intoxicating.

A touch, a smile. The Owls harmonious laughter at some stupid joke you made, it was borderline addictive.

But as much as you may... crave~ his attention, you could never reveal these feelings.

You may be his favourite Imp, but you were an Imp none the less. You were so far beneath him there was no chance you could even hope to gain his attention.

And as much as that tore you up inside, you accepted that. Deciding instead to channel that affection in a way that would best serve your prince.

Stolas was quite fond of you.

He was so used to people only helping him in return for something, But you were different. You served him while asking for nothing in return.

His colder, aristocratic side would say you were just doing your duty, just serving like a good little Imp should.

But he could tell. You went above and beyond serving him, helping him in every endeavour he faced.

Over time, he noticed you becoming more affectionate, being more open and light hearted, treating him more like a friend than a Prince, like everyone else did. Something the Owl found intoxicating in its own right.

Of course he had his Owlet for unconditional love and affection, but your affectionate had this strange affect on him. You were kind to him, asking nothing in return, and that made him all fuzzy inside.

But just as he came to enjoy your affection, feeling like he had something to make the cold and cut throat reality of nobility bearable, you pulled back. You became more formal, like all the others in his life that served him.

And while at first he had hoped it was just a temporary hiccup, it quickly got to a point stolas couldn't take it anymore.

The owl ended up using every trick he could think of to figure out just why you'd pulled back.

It was somewhat underhanded, but one night, after you'd said goodnight, Stolas used his Grimoire and observed your unconcious mind. But he never would have expected what he saw.

He got a full view of how you viewed him.

He didn't know if he should be flattered or shocked, as in your eyes he was on parr with a diety.

He was this being of pure mercy and kindness, so far above you, you held your feelings back because you believed there was no way you could get close to him.

Your dream slowly morphed to reveal how terrified you were of admitting it, an all consuming fear that such information would destroy the relationship you held as the most important thing in your life.

Stolas was in shock.

Afterwards he spent the whole night thinking about you.

He couldnt deny he had strong feelings towards you.

After all, you'd always gone above and beyond for him, you were his most trusted and beloved servant, and... he liked to think of you as his friend.

But now that he knew your dedication was fuelled by love, it gave him a whole new perspective to your behaviour.

The way you smiled at him.

The way you laughed at his jokes.

The way you stuck close to him, the way you got defensive on his behalf, so much so you'd started fights with other staff members whom had disrespected him.

All these actions had once seemed so innocent, seemingly coming from your deep sense of loyalty and commitment.

But now, he knew they came from a place of love and devotion.

He spent the whole night thinking it over, pacing his office, deep in thought.

But no matter how hard he thought about it, he always reached the same conclusion.

He loved you.

He knew it was crazy. After all, he had a family. He had a loving- er... Well, he had a wife.

He had a beautiful daughter, and yet here he was, having unknowingly fallen for an Imp.

He went over it a hundred times and every time he thought about it he simply couldn't deny his feelings for you.

You were kind, loving and selfless. Youd always seemed to put his needs above your own And for Stolas, whom had never know selfless love. He realised it was all hed ever wanted.

Now Stolas had to decide what to do with this information.

Unfortunately Stolas couldn't keep a secret from you to save his life, you could simply read him to well.

And it wouldn't take long for him to crack, finding it impossible to keep such a major secret from you.

He'd get you somewhere private, using the excuse of business to get you alone.

Once he was confident you wouldn't be interrupted, he'd basically pin you to a wall, the owl hesitating for a moment before telling you, he knew.

You tried to play it off, telling him you didn't know what he was talking about.

Only for Stolas to snap at you, telling you, you knew exactly what he was talking about.

He leaned in close, whispering he knew you loved him.

You tried to stay composed, but internally you were freaking. Doing your best to keep calm and play it off.

The problem was Stolas was so close, you could smell his morning coffee and he was staring right at you, not giving you any time to calm down and think of a clever excuse.

But you couldn't. You couldn't lie to his face.

So you confessed, you confessed to loving him. You confessed you loved him more than anything, more then you knew how to handle. So you hid it from him.

There was a long silence.

You expected him to drop you, throw you to the side and tell you to get out of his sight, or maybe just kill you then and there.

But he didn't, instead he... he kissed you.

He planted a deep passionate kiss right on the lips, and... and you just couldn't help but return it. You wrapped your smaller arms around his neck, giving him your all.

Breaking the kiss, Stolas cupped your cheek and you were left stunned once again, when he told you... He loved you too.

You were so happy you were almost in tears, holding Stolas so close you almost feared you'd snap him in half, the two of you sharing a moment of joy and warmth.

You pressed your forheads and for the first time in both your lives you held someone you knew loved you for you close.

You held each other close for a long while, Stolas pressing you against his chest. Leaning back, you just smiled at each other.

It was a warm little smile, a smile you gave to someone you cared for deeply.

Scratching your neck, you asked him "What comes next?"

A devious little smile crossed his lips as he stared down at you, a predatory glow to his crimson gaze.

He carried you briskly to the nearest bedroom, carrying you to the bed he dropped you, pressing you against the bed.

Sliding his hands up your shirt, he purred down at you, "After all you've done for me, I think it's only fair..." He licked his lips, "I return the favour."

He stripped you down slowly, trailing kisses across your body.

You spent the night together, wrapped in throws of passion, Stolas doing his very best to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

You went at it long into the night, you pouring all the love and affection you'd repressed for so long.

There being one particular moment where the owl lost his mind when you flipped him over, pinning him down and took control.

You went at it until you collapsed in each other's embrace.

The next morning was like a whole new reality for you two. You held each other close and just relished the new found love you had for each other.

Your relationship would continue in secret, the both of you desperate to keep this new flame alive. Your position as his right hand Imp enabling you to stay close and be with him in private without raising any suspicion.

The two of you had frequent little 'rendezvous', where ever, when ever you wanted too without much issue.

Stolas' favourite was having a quick romp in the car on the way home from a meeting.

As amazing as your romance would be, there would always be a risk hanging over, something you were always cautious of. Although your concerns were dismissed by Stolas and you really found it hard to stay focused around him.

But as perfext as your relationship was, it would all come crashing down when you were discovered by Stella.

Now Stella's reaction could vary drastically depending on the nature of there marriage.

If Stella genuinely loved Stolas, she'd likely loose her shit.

Going off on Stolas while also likely try to kill you.

The family would be divided much like with Blitzø, although this time you would actually be there to support Stolas emotionally, not to mention you'd likely have a decent chance of getting along with Octavia.

But If there union was, say, more business than personal. Well... terms could be reached.

She'd still likely freak out, but Stolas could temper her fury before it could get out of hand.

They could reach an accord, you and him could be together so long as your relationship never sees the light of day.

After that, your relationship went up a notch, Stolas not having to hold back like before, he would basically go feral with you, spending every available second wrapped in a passionate embrace with you.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #helluva boss stolas #stolas x reader #stolas #stolas deserves some love #stolas is a big softy

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