#with an insane amount of self restraint

[corvidexoskeleton]

I've seen some of the things people have cited as marks of character growth in the norse games, but honestly I don't think all of them are. I mean, yeah sure Kratos definitely was a lot more willing to be open with other people and accept help from others, but the willingness to show mercy to someone he's fighting, not wanting to kill someone unless they threaten somebody he cares about, shrugging off personal insults and and threats to himself, showing compassion to someone going through something awful, those are all pretty standard parts of his personality

He's actually consistently a pretty calm person, given the circumstances. It's also not that surprising to see him readily accept Thrud and Angrboda as Atreus' friends, since he's got a bit of a soft spot for kids

[electric-plants]

I totally believe you, but I'd be interested to see your receipts of haitham being nice if you're willing to share~

hello weary traveler please take a look at my wares~

top ten (read: 3) reasons alhaitham is a SWEETIE w/ receipts:

1) he’s got really good manners:

*leaves to the entrance to wait patiently for you so he can say goodbye* and i just like how offended he seems at the implication in the last one

these voicelines in particular stick out to convey that he doesn’t really want to be responsible for causing others trouble:

also tbh basically all of his about lines are just him talking about people’s good qualities, which always makes me a little sad when i think about most of the voicelines about him in comparison rip

here’s some faves though tighnari’s especially sticks out in regard to alhaitham being nice i think:

2) he does a lot of things for other people:

“i’m not going to field any questions” proceeds to take us to his house, gather a bunch of books to help us understand, and then field all of our questions🤔 also just the entire concept of him being able to be talked into being acting grand sage at ALL

also not included but little things like taking the time to teach us how to use the knowledge capsules, taking the aaru villager’s feelings into account/getting shani to talk, and just generally taking the time to carefully address the rest of The Squad’s™️ questions/concerns during sumeru’s archon quests

3) and perhaps some people will disagree with this one but i just think he has a very kind view of humanity:

(⬆️ from sq also not cropped cause pretty🥰)

i feel that if someone is so intimately aware of the limits and faults of humanity while also still having an innate curiosity about other people and an affinity for finding people’s positive qualities it’s indicative of an inherently kind/forgiving way of thinking

i can and will defend any of these examples if anyone disagrees😤 i spend every moment of my life ready for a debate😤

but seriously lol idk there’s just SO MUCH that he does and says that can be interpreted as kind if you look for it and connect it, like this isn’t even all the examples i could think of off the top of my head

also thank you anon for giving me an excuse to talk about him and how he is GOOD i owe you my life sorry for adding so much lol

my sources for your convenience: SQ = alhaitham’s story quest, TP = teapot dialogue, KH = kaveh’s hangout, PoP = the parade of providence event

[plentyghosts]

How am I supposed to focus when there are little trinkets??

[urbanbirdbud]

watching the new g witch ED isn’t enough I need to tattoo it onto my inner eyelids

[chikoyama]

(( ok, so i’ve come across posts from people questioning why gojo is so weird when he fights jogo. like, why is he so horny about the volcano man? great, awesome question. here’s my unsolicited take on it.

warning: possible jjk s2e9 spoilers! ))

consider this: fighting is the only moment where gojo is allowed to be 100% his unhinged self, but it's rare that anything or anyone is actually able to hold up against his powers without getting immediately obliterated.

it’s akin to giving a golden retriever a toy that ends up getting destroyed bc pupper played with it a bit too vigorously. when there's no toy left, it means playtime is over. for gojo that leaves him with an overall feeling of unsatisfaction. gojo is that sad pupper who doesn't get enough endorphins released bc no 'toy' can handle him.

so, the fact that jogo can take gojo being somewhat rough towards him is enough to trigger a release of dopamin in gojo, hence the impression of arousal. (i mean.. come on, look at this. the touching, the playfulness? it's just too sensual to mean anything else. also, just to be in the clear, i'm not shipping them, lol).

tbh, i'm just trying to point out that with the immense powers this man bears, it's only natural that he is in a constant state of feeling understimulated.

tying this in with gojo's awful personality, like.. him being annoying af is probably the maximum amount of ‘normalness’ this man can muster without going insane from absolute boredom.

in reality gojo might be holding back bc he knows normal people wouldn’t be able to handle him if he were to fully unleash himself upon them. it might not seem like it, but he’s actually treating every non-enemy with as much care as he possibly can.

conclusion here is that gojo's entire personality revolves around the fact that he's finding himself constantly understimulated. in general, he's just so unimpressed that for him to even get genuinely stirred up, there needs to to be some perversion involved in the act. it just makes sense for me, okay?

so, can you blame gojo for feeling actually excited while fighting mr. volcano head? not really. but is he a freak? definitely. but honestly, shouldn't we just let this man truly enjoy himself for once. just look at how happy he is.

[klainelynch]

I really just saw an art piece that had 6 members of the gaang...and one of them was Appa...which cool, yes, but there's a whole person you're forgetting, and then they updated it with the one they forgot............Momo.........................................

[sweetblood]

man there’s some cunts working in the library

[fastboatsmojito]

GUESS - Chef Luca x reader one-shot - 18+

| AN; non-physically descript reader, no pronouns used but fem aligned. Based almost solely on “Guess” by Charli xcx, it’ll make sense later, I promise. This is essentially my first anything ever so I’m still trying to figure out my writing style 🙏🏼 enjoy. <3

| Wc: 4.2k

| CWs: Smut BTC, SLOW smut like so much teasing I’m SORRY, fingering, cunnilingus, eventual pnv, Good amount of Sub Luca oops <33 No use of y/n, lingerie??? No condom mention SORRY, Blindfolds, Luca almost crying - in a good way ! The L word, Mention of hand restraint, Kissing, Pet name usage probably; baby, bunny (for Luca), love, sweet boy (also for Luca), etc. Some religious metaphors sorry

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

-

You’ve been distracted all day, work beginning and ending in a distant fog. Usually you had no problem indulging in the fast-paced environment, focusing solely on your work and the insistent voice of whoever was running expo for the day.

Today couldn’t have been more different. The work in front of you being drowned out by mental pictures of the man waiting for you at home.

Your mind was full of him. His words. His hands. It was all his fault.

—-

You had woken up that morning to the boyfriend you were still getting used to sleeping next to everyday. It was new but comfortable. You didn’t feel the need to change practically anything about your nightly routine once he moved in.

Luca isn’t a judgmental guy, It’s one of your most adored attributes of his. Which just so happened to include your ‘pajamas’ a term you used rather loosely, draped in a baggy t-shirt and whatever plain comfy underwear called your name that night.

He loved every second of it, and so did you.

You were rushing to get ready as Luca was quietly helping you. His internal clock denying him the pleasure of staying in bed once you were awake. He was grabbing some socks to lay out while you were brushing your teeth, when the question arose.

You leaned your head out of the bathroom door, toothpaste-filled mouth garbling your words. “Sorry?”

“When’d you get this?” Repeated a curious Luca, gleaming at you while gently holding up a forgotten lacy red bra that had been stored at the back of your drawer.

You’d worn it maybe twice, ever. Once trying it on and the other just for yourself, a confidence boosting self-care ritual that had been pushed out of your schedule by work. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or amused.

“I don’t-“

“Baby, your words.”

Christ. You spat the toothpaste from your mouth before speaking again.

“I don’t remember exactly, it’s been a while.”

He put it back softly, as if it’d shatter if he was too quick. Then walked towards you, leaning in the bathroom doorway.

“I didn’t know you owned something so-“

You finished brushing your teeth and interrupted him.

“Slutty?” You giggled, moving past him to get changed.

“Delicate.”

Delicate? He was driving you insane at six in the morning and he’s barely done anything.

The image of his strong, tattooed hands holding something he’d described himself as ‘delicate’ replaying on a loop in your mind. He moved to sit on the bed next to you as your shoes went on.

“You never asked.”

He laughed softly and took your hand in his as you stood up.

“If you’re nice, maybe I’ll put it on for you tonight.” You smiled and put your arms around his neck.

“Aren’t I always?” He replied, pulling you in to place a soft kiss on your temple.

You caught a glimpse of the clock behind him at that and gave him a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out the door.

———

Once you finally reentered your apartment it was well past 11. Fortunately, it was a Friday night so you weren’t worried about having to wake up early the next morning.

You walked in and almost immediately headed to the shower, just after greeting your peacefully lounging boyfriend. You set up a few things and grabbed one of Luca’s hoodies to throw on after and hopped in.

You came back out to him in the kitchen, heating up what he’d made earlier and put up for you. He sat quietly with you while you ate and waited until you were done to ask about your day.

“‘Was fine, Just been a little distracted.” You replied, slinking down more into your seat while you watched him take your plate to the sink.

“Distracted? By anything in particular?”

He always looked annoyingly sweet with soap on his hands. You got up and leaned against the counter in front of him.

“Just you.”

He dried his hands and placed them on your shoulders, lightly massaging away the tension you held. He leaned down to place a light kiss right under your ear.

“You mind telling me what you were really thinking about, my love, or shall I guess?”

You could melt into him. He always had this effect on you, drawing the desperation out of you like oil in water.

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about this morning and.. I have a few different colored sets like that-“

His warm hands were slowly moving to the hem of the hoodie you adorned, distracting you just as the thought of them alone had done all day.

He stopped, smirking at how easily you leaned into his touch. “Go on.”

“and- well I was just thinking that maybe I could try them on and let you guess the color.” You said, eyes focusing on the broad shoulders you rested your hands on instead of his own.

“Guess the color? Won’t I be-“ You giggled and shook your head, interrupting him.

“That’s the fun part- I want to blindfold you. If you’re into it, anyway.” You said, finally looking up to meet his eyes. A blend of surprise and curiosity painted on his face.

He moved his hands back to your face, holding your head so he could look at you.

“Jesus darling, I’d let you do anything if you keep looking at me like that.”

You grinned at him, “‘s that a yes?”

He moved closer to you, leaning his forehead against your own. So close you were almost kissing. Almost.

“Yes.”

You barely stopped yourself from jumping him, closing the gap to kiss him, raising bumps on your skin as his hands moved to your jaw to kiss you deeper.

You pulled away to take one of his hands and guide him to your bedroom. You lightly pushed him onto the bed and went to the closet to grab one of his ties.

You walked back to the bed, “Get comfortable, you might be here a while.” You punctuated with a kiss to his nose.

“Oh yeah? You tying my hands up too?”

You climbed up to straddle his waist, tie-yielding hands sitting on his chest.

“‘m not that mean.” You paused and thought about it for a second. “Only if I have to.”

His hands are on your hips, waiting for some direction. Your hands are occupied right above the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He’s nodding his head and you’re lifting up for just a moment to pull it over his head and toss it just next to the laundry basket. Close enough.

You didn’t realize you were staring and not saying anything until he spoke again.

“Liking the view, gorgeous?”

You laughed softly at him and rolled your eyes.

You dragged your hands up and down his chest and shoulders, leaning down to leave light kisses everywhere they went. Slowly drawing dreamy sighs and deep breaths out of him.

You stopped when his grip on your waist was getting tighter, you didn’t plan on teasing him forever but you couldn’t help it. He’s always so patient for you.

You could look at him like this forever. He opened his eyes when he noticed you stopped touching him.

You cupped his face in one hand while the other rested on his waist and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You look so pretty under me like this, sweet boy.”

He groaned and you could tell by the light red brushed over his cheeks and the rather obvious erection under you that he was losing patience quickly.

He said your name like he was asking for something.

“Please, please.”

The hottest man you’d ever seen was under you begging.

You lightly scratched the hair behind his ear and gave him a teasing pout.

“What ‘s it baby, what do you want?”

“You. Please, love, just- just do something or let me touch you.”

Every ounce of admiration and lust in your body prevalent in your eyes and the barely-there movements of your hips against his own.

You grinned down at him and grabbed the tie you left sitting beside him.

“Ready for me to put this on you then?”

He eagerly nodded and you gave him a few kisses before lifting him up a bit and tying it over his eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and gave it a kiss before speaking again.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna explain the rules and change and then we’ll get started. If you want me to stop and take the blindfold off, just let me know. You got it?”

He smiled and nodded his head.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.”

He stuttered a little at the nickname.

“I- I got it.”

Your hands were lightly tracing over his chest.

“Good. I’m going to put on one of three sets; black, red, or blue. And then I’ll come back over and you can feel the different materials and try to guess which color it is. If you get it wrong, I’ll go change again. When you get it right I’ll take the blindfold off. Sound good?”

“And if I take too long?”

You bit your lip and hummed while you thought for a moment.

“Then I’ll tie your hands up and you’ll have to guess with your tongue.”

His grip on your waist tightened once again.

“‘s that all alright with you?”

“Sounds perfect, love.”

You grinned down at him even though he couldn’t see it. You couldn’t be happier to be with someone so open and communicative.

“I’ll be right back.”

You gave the top of his head a quick kiss before getting up to change, grabbing one of the sets you set aside before your shower.

You decided to go with the blue set. The low lighting making specs of glitter dancing over your figure shimmer. If only Luca could see you now.

You walked back to him, tracing over his arm so you didn’t alarm him before climbing back into his lap.

“Can I touch you now?”

“Go ahead, baby. So sweet.”

You guided his hands to your hips. He took his time, light strokes feeling the soft material that hugged your body like it was made just for you.

He could cry. You smelled so good and it was even stronger now that one of his other senses was out of the way. Not to mention how soft your skin felt. He had to keep reminding himself to focus on trying to guess while getting caught up in the cathedral that was your body.

He moved his hands up over your chest, focusing on rubbing your nipples through the fabric. Then back down again, thumbs right at the hem of your already soaked, blue panties.

You let out a soft sigh at that and let his hands move for just a bit longer before you guided them back to your own, interlocking your fingers.

“Time to guess, Luc’.”

He whined like he was the one being tormented.

“Already? But you sound so pretty.”

You giggled at his praise.

“If you want to keep touching me I need you to guess.”

“Okay okay, I think it’s.. black?”

You smile down at him again, empathy found not in your words but your tone.

“Nope!” You gave him a kiss, letting his tongue slip over yours for just a second before pulling away.

“Changing again. Be right back.”

He hummed and you went to grab the second set, going with the silky black set this time. It was soft but thin, you can’t remember ever having worn it.

The glimpse you caught of yourself in the mirror told you to wear it more often.

You walked up to him, tracing one hand over his toned muscles as you climbed up.

He didn’t bother asking this time, too caught up in the warmth above him. He started at your shoulders, tracing down the silky straps and over your chest. He can’t remember a time he was ever so hard and needy for anyone.

His light, slow, focused movements driving you insane while your noises were doing the same to him.

You got caught up in all of it, the way his hands were moving back to grab your ass, how needy he looked, how you were sure he could feel the wet spot you were leaving right on his lap, all of it. You moved one of your hands up his chest over his neck, thumb lightly grazing over his Adam’s apple.

He was grabbing your hips and leaning up to place kisses on your neck when you stopped him.

“Alright, handsy, time to guess.”

He smirked. He could hear your heartbeat from here, quick pulses from his paused touch. He knew you were losing patience right with him.

“I think this one’s.. blue?”

You groaned. There was only one color left now, thank god. If he didn’t get this one you didn’t know if you’d make it.

“Wrong again, bunny.”

You left him with no kiss this time, trying to keep some semblance of self-control.

You grabbed the last and final set; lacy and red. Your personal favorite and the one that started the fire that’d been burning inside of you all day. The memory of his fingers draped over the soft lace replaying in your mind once again.

You walked back up to him, kissing up his stomach and chest before settling down.

“Okay baby, last set.”

He wasted no time, strong hands moving all over you. He was smirking as he felt the lace, he knew what this was. He didn’t want to stop just yet though, one hand moving up to your waist while the other was moving closer and closer to the wet spot he was teasing out of you.

You were letting out the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, his fingers dancing just above your clothed clit when you stopped him.

“Luca, baby, I need you to get it right this time,” You leaned down to whisper right in his ear, “guess.”

He was grinning at your eagerness, composure you were keeping earlier now nowhere to be found.

“Red.”

God. You threaded a hand through his hair and brought him up to kiss you, tongues dancing together messily while your hands urgently moved to take the blindfold off of him.

He cupped your face with both of his hands, taking you away from him so he could finally look at you.

“Fuck me, you look beautiful.” His eyes were moving up and down your body and back to your warming face.

You were the one begging now. “Please, Luca, just touch me.”

He kisses you again, pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

He was moving his kisses down, kissing over your face, right under your ear, your neck, to your collarbones. One hand leaving your head to trail down to your waist, thumb stroking over the fabric on your hip bone.

You were a mess. Slowly grinding over his thigh, after thinking about this practically all day you could cum just like this.

You were leaving open-mouthed kisses over his neck and shoulders when his hand finally moved where you needed it, leaving soft circles on your clothed clit, tracing his fingers up and down over the wet spot.

You were letting out soft moans now, so close to getting what you need.

You moved your hands lower, grasping at his aching dick through his sweats. Fingers tracing at the waistband,

“Can I take these off?”

“Of course.”

You got up for just a second so he could pull them down and off, throwing them to join his earlier discarded shirt.

You sat back over him, gasping as you felt him through his boxers, only thin layers of fabric separating you.

He knew what you wanted and he needed it just as bad, but after only being able to touch you for so long he wanted to taste you more than anything.

He stopped your movements, grabbing your hips and moving you to lay down on the bed so he could be on top of you.

Mouth open, chest quickly rising up and down with your rushed breaths, he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“My god, you’re perfect.”

“Will you please stop staring at me and do something.”

“I’ll take care of you darling, don’t worry.”

He muttered between kisses, hands cupping your breasts, one of your hands moving back to undo the clasps for him, red lace falling away from you to be discarded next.

“Never get tired of seeing you like this.”

He said, mouth moving down to leave little marks that you’d be seeing in the morning all over your chest. Licking down and over your nipples, large, warm hands following right behind each of his movements.

He kissed down your stomach, stopping every now and then wherever he felt he should leave a mark.

He got to the waistband of your lacy red underwear, hands moving back to grab handfuls of your ass while he kissed over your hips and thighs, smirking into your skin when your breathing got heavier as he got closer to where you wanted him.

He kissed once more on your inner thigh before spreading your legs so he was on his knees between them, one of yours on each side of him. His hands moved back to your waistband, thumbs dipping down into the sides.

He pulled you closer to him and left light kisses over your clothed core, groaning at how wet you are.

“This all for me, baby?” He asked, kissing you again, letting his nose catch over your clit.

You whined at his slow pace.

“Guess.”

He let his tongue peek out for a moment to tease a few moans out of you. Then, he pulled your drenched underwear off of you, another piece added to the pile.

He figured you’d both had enough teasing for tonight, quickly laying down and putting your legs over his shoulders to devour you.

He was moaning into you, tongue lapping at you. One of his hands moving up your thigh to draw slow circles on your clit while the other was guiding your hips to grind further into him.

You couldn’t care less about the sounds you were making but you were sure they were there from the muffled praise between your legs.

“Sound so pretty, love. I got you, just keep making those sweet noises for me.”

God was he good with his mouth. One of your hands was holding his while the other was in his hair, lightly pulling when you wanted a moan out of the man ravishing you.

He moved his tongue up to kiss and lick at your clit while his fingers moved to collect the wetness seeping out of you. You moaned out when he suddenly sunk one of his fingers inside of you, curling it upward, slowly moving it in and out as your eyes closed. You let out a deep sigh you’d been holding since this morning as he worked you up to a second one.

“Shit, Luca- so good, so good for me, bunny. Just like that.”

He was moaning into you and grinding his hips into the bed to try and relieve himself. He could definitely cum like this. Just hearing you praise him like that drove him crazy. He’d pray to you if you asked him to.

His thick fingers were speeding up their strokes, tongue lightly sucking your clit into his mouth, making you gasp. The loud sounds of the slick that was dripping onto the bed warming your face.

“Luca, I’m so close baby, don’t stop.”

He let go of your hand to pull you further into him, your warm thighs surrounding his head.

“Cum for me. Please, make a mess all over my fingers.”

You could barely hear him, so focused on how he felt but the vibrations from his pleading into you along with his warm tongue and the fingers repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you was enough to send you over the edge.

“That’s it, darling, I’ve got you. So perfect for me.”

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sweetest pussy in the world.”

He worked you through it, slowing down his fingers and taking them out once you were grabbing his wrist, leaving you with a quick soft kiss to your clit before moving back up to his knees.

You let out a breath and opened your eyes to him on his knees in front of you, staring at his drenched fingers. He was just as much a mess as you were if not more, boxers barely containing his hard length, flushed cheeks, still wet nose and mouth.

You couldn’t believe you got to see him like this. Big, strong man being used like a toy and he loved it, begged for it.

You blinked yourself out of your head as he put the fingers that just drew an all-day lingering orgasm out of you and into his mouth.

Jesus Christ.

“Fuck, Luca, come here.”

He sucked his fingers clean and moved towards you, you pulled him in for a kiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He was moaning into your mouth, pleading again

“Please, I need you.”

You kept kissing him, mouths sloppily moving together as you pulled his boxers down, the final piece to the pile. He was trying to kiss you back and failing, breathing and moaning into your mouth instead.

“You want me, bunny?”

“God. Please, please, need it.”

You moved your face into his neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles there as you finally guided him to your entrance. Grinding against him for a moment to get him nice and lubricated for you.

You moaned into his neck, pushing his head further into your own as you slowly sank down on him. He was big, but you were so worked up from all the teasing and your first orgasm that it was easier to take him.

One of his hands was rubbing at your waist, waiting you for to get comfortable before he started moving while the other was cupping your face, bringing you back to press your foreheads against each other.

Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, too needy to notice, but you did. You waited to move, moving a hand to his face.

“Are you okay, baby, do you want to stop?”

He shook his head quickly and blinked them away,

“No, no I’m okay I just- I love you. ”

You stroked his cheeks with your hands and kissed his nose, then his forehead, and his nose again. He was always so sweet like this, you felt like your heart could burst.

“I love you too.” Another kiss. “So much.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead on your shoulder, slowly starting to move his hips. When you moved your hips with his he started to speed up, whispering praises and promises into your skin, saying your name like a prayer only you could hear.

He knew he’d finish quick after that, moving the hand not supporting himself down to rub soft circles on your still-aching clit.

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time. I’m so close, I want to feel you cum around my dick this time. You got it.”

He whimpered as you clenched down around him, whispering repeated praises into his ear.

“So good for me, so good. Want you to cum for me, bunny.”

“Such a sweet boy.”

He pulled out to cum on your stomach, your warm hand and praises urging him.

He leaned over to the nightstand for some tissues to wipe you off before he laid down on top of you, his face on your chest while you played with his hair.

You gave him a moment, sitting in content silence together before tending to anything else.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, a finger softly tracing over the freckles adorning his nose.

“Im perfect, love.” He kissed your side before moving up to smother your face in them.

He gave one last kiss to your head before getting up to grab a warm towel to clean you off and some glasses of water.

After you were cleaned up and hydrated you grabbed one of Lucas shirts and got up to go to the bathroom. Assessing the marks you’d be seeing for a few days in the mirror as Luca was starting your shower.

“Jesus, look at you.” He said, walking up behind you and placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“All you, baby.”

“Baby? What happened to bunny?” He said, softly laughing and making sure the water temp was just right.

You giggled at that.

“You really like that, don’t you?”

He walked back over to you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss at the marks he left on your neck.

“Guess.” He muttered into your skin, picking you up to get in the shower.

[basilpaste]

finally someone else whos insane about the fact that even when one of isabeaus closest friends rips into every one of his worst insecurities he wont even get outwardly mad or upset about it. where am i!! its so dark!!!

the thing that really gets me is that isa is like OBVIOUSLY fucking upset. but it feels like hes stunned to silence more than anything. and when he does retaliate its all very... contained. hes hurt and angry and sad but it all comes off as really mild. especially compared to the rest of the party like. (shoutout script project) look at everyone elses reactions to siffrin.

aaaand. now look at isa.

HE FUCKING. AGREES. he makes no effort to fight siffrin, act like the things theyve said arent true. and of course he goes on to fire back ('at least im trying to change. unlike some people here.) but its so...... nothing. its so not a thing compared to everyone elses reactions. everyone else is BIG. even odile, who shows an incredible amount of self restraint by not fucking bodying siffrin for what he says to her, is more angry than we ever see her anywhere else in the game.

all of them are the most angry we see them in the game! other than maybe bonnie!!! but isas angry is so much smaller than everyone elses! isas angry is one comment. he doesnt raise a fist, he doesnt slap or grab or scream, he says 'unlike some people here'. and then he leaves.

a part of me wonders if he ends the conversation there because he knows he would blow up if it went on any longer. if that crack in his facade, that leaking in of genuine anger, was too close for comfort. so he runs away. because siffrin is right: isabeau is a coward.

[doumadono]

Douma & period sex - headcanons

Warnings: smut Requested by: anonymous

MASTERLIST

Being with Douma means there are no limits, it means laying all the cards on the table, exposing every secret, confronting the ugly and harsh truth. In his presence, it feels like the world opens up, revealing new possibilities and unexplored territories. With Douma, there is a sense of daring and adventure, a willingness to dive deep into the unknown and embrace the rawness of life ♡

Due to his demonic nature, Douma possesses an exceptional sense of smell, enabling him to accurately detect when you're on your period

Douma has an insatiable desire to create chaos and revels in making messes. He finds pleasure in the sight of blood, whether it's on his own skin or yours. His ultimate satisfaction lies in leaving behind a trail of destruction, where stained and torn sheets serve as evidence of a job well done

In moments when your breasts feel more sensitive or tender, Douma offers gentle relief by softly kneading them for you

On a few occasions, Douma had the experience of possessing you during your period. The heightened wetness and warmth of your pussy seemed to intensify his pleasure, pushing him to the edge faster than ever before

In anticipation of your period, Douma exercises self-restraint by refraining from engaging in sex or masturbation during the preceding week. By doing so, he deliberately builds up desire and eagerly looks forward to indulging himself once your period begins

Douma finds immense pleasure in various aspects of intimacy, including the sensation of your warm walls enveloping his cock. The additional warmth during your period is particularly arousing to him, causing him to shudder with delight each time he fucks you missionary

He humorously compares himself to a tampon 😅

"You feel so fucking incredible, so damn good!" he exclaims, occasionally sinking his teeth into your shoulder, igniting a mix of pleasure and a hint of pain. You find yourself unable to contain your moans, as the sheets bunch up tightly in your hands, your thighs quivering from the powerful rhythm of his thrusts as he takes you doggy style

"Your warmth and tightness drive me insane," Douma grunts, running a hand through your hair before gripping it firmly, pulling it back as he gently bites along your neck. "You're so wet, just look at this beautiful mess," he exclaims, admiring the evidence of your desire and arousal mixed with your period blood dripping down your thighs on the sheets

"Oh, Douma! I'm going to cum!" you moan passionately, your voice echoing through the room as you bury your head into a pillow. "I can't hold on any longer! I wanna cum, baby! Please… Move, for fuck's sake!" you groan, lifting your head to glance back at the towering figure behind you

His hands grip your sides firmly, squeezing your plush flesh, causing him to suck in a sharp breath as he visibly trembles, his chest rising and falling with each movement. "If I move now, I'll reach my climax, and I don't want to do that just yet," he replies, his heated gaze fixed on you, intensifying the sensation as your walls involuntarily tighten around him. "Oh, fuck! There's an incredible amount of blood flowing from your cunt right now!" he exclaims, a hint of excitement in his voice as he withdraws his throbbing cock from your pussy

With a swift movement, he flips you over so that you once again lie on your back, ready for the next phase of your intimate encounter. Douma's tongue delves into your sensitive core, pressing firmly against your walls, while his thumb skillfully rubs circles over your clit - his sole purpose is to bring you pleasure. Douma has a remarkable knack for discovering all the spots on your body that drive you to the brink of madness

You find yourself gripping onto his silver hair again as your hips begin to buck uncontrollably. A whine escapes your lips when he eventually pulls away, leaving you feeling empty and yearning for more. Douma licks his lips and wipes his mouth, cleansing away the traces of your blood

Understanding the need to not keep you waiting, Douma swiftly substitutes his tongue with his throbbing cock, effortlessly sliding it inside you. "Oh, fuck, Y/N. You're dripping wet. My little, fucking lotus!"

Blushing at the sounds his thrusts produce, you raise your hips to meet his movements, biting your lip in a mix of pleasure and anticipation. As you do, you realize that your uterus is beginning to relax, a thought that brings a contented smile to your face

Douma spreads your legs slightly, creating a more comfortable position for smoother entry after he again withdraws. He hooks your legs around his waist, and with deliberate slowness, he pushes his cock inside you

"Fuck!" Douma's breath hitches as he releases himself inside you, panting heavily before collapsing beside you; your mixed cums dripping out of your abused pussy

Your body trembling with pleasure as you cling onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. The pain that once lingered has now completely dissipated, leaving you in a state of blissful satisfaction

[sleepynoons]

ALMOND EYES BY CLAVITA – oikawa tooru (hq) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut, crack word count – ~2,100 warnings – facetime/phone sex, sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, mutual masturbation, slight exhibitionism, slight hand fetish synopsis – the two of you have managed to find balance in your long-distance relationship, but it's been especially challenging this time around, after having been separated for several months. it doesn't help that your boyfriend's being particularly evasive about his return for christmas, and you're at a loss as to what to do. notes – did my best to look up some argentinian cultural stuff. also learned that it's kinda common to call your partner "gordo" (fat) as a joke. you constantly jokingly call oikawa that to curb his ever-inflating ego, but if you're uncomfortable with (using) that term (totally understandable!!), don't read.

“Tooru, please! I don’t wanna –”

“No – ugh – just a few more seconds.”

Your pillows are drenched with your tears and sweat, and more than likely, there’s probably a puddle of your slick pooling and dripping through your bedsheets. You’re fighting to focus on anything – the calendar hanging next to the bedroom door that still displays July instead of December, the patterned stars and polka dots of Tooru’s covers, even the ceiling of his bedroom that’s dark aside from the faint light emitting from your computer –, but the buzzing of your vibrater, rubbing and jolting and spinning against your swollen clit, has already melted away the last remnants of your focus and conscious. It doesn’t help that it hasn’t been that long since the two of you started – only 20 minutes or so –, but you’re exhausted from all the traveling you’ve been doing recently, and really, by this point, Tooru knows how to make you feel very good.

“Please, please, please, Tooru - ha! – I can’t! Please, please, no more!”

You really should be rewarded for the amount of self-restraint you’re demonstrating. Despite the intensity and your sensitivity, you’re heeding your boyfriend’s instructions and not flailing or thrashing about. He knows you like being thrown over the edge over and over again, with your bud aching for more and less, your body aching for more and less, your mind wanting more and less. You’re also doing a fantastic job keeping your volume down. Not that there’s any need to, since Tooru’s parents are currently out for dinner right now, but it feels extremely wrong (and insanely erotic) having facetime sex in his childhood bedroom.

But if only you had just a bit more discipline, because, out of sheer habit, your wandering, hazy gaze begins to trace its way back to Tooru’s face on your laptop screen.

“Hold it, darling – shit, that’s good! A little longer!”

But you can’t hold on any longer because how can your body possibly resist your boyfriend and his dangerous, seductive allure? You know he’s not even trying. In fact, Tooru’s probably just as dazed as you are, all energy being channeled to trying to delay both of your highs for as long as possible. It’s just unfair how natural it is for him to ooze sex appeal – light brown bangs matted to his forehead and temples, drops of sweat tracing down his Adam’s apple and collarbones, toned abs and obliques flexing with each shuddering gasp he takes, his hands flexing around his – it’s over for you.

You turn your cheek, muffling your scream by burying your face into another one of Tooru’s pillows, and convulse. Your walls squeeze, tighten, and gape around nothing, and a rush of your warmth splatters onto your inner thighs and ass.

Your head’s a little fogged, but you can still make out the sounds of Tooru’s whimpering and moaning – fuck, he’s so sexy – as he can’t resist any longer. When you look back down at your screen, he’s hunched over, chest and back heaving and red with exertion.

“Fuck,” you both mutter at once.

After a few minutes, you come to and whine to get his attention. “We’re never doing this again.”

Tooru frowns as he tosses a tissue paper into a trash bin that’s off camera. “What? Why not?”

You squirm, the gravity of what the two of you have just done becoming more obvious with each passing second. “It’s so wrong! Your mom cleans your room all the time!”

He rolls his eyes, still displeased and unconvinced. To your unhappiness, he suggests, “Just wash the sheets yourself, then. Before she finds out.”

“Tooru! Never again!”

Your boyfriend’s already gotten up, though, mumbling something along the lines of how you’re both going to do it again in spite of your embarrassment as he goes to grab some water.

“I’m making you do all the laundry when you get back,” you huff. He responds with another comeback, but he’s too far away so his microphone only picks up garbled noises.

You stay seated, too tired and lazy to clean yourself and the mess you’ve made. It’s also because you like it when Tooru coos and worries over you, nagging at you to at least put on a damn shirt or take a quick shower so you don’t catch a cold. And while he does still do that, this time, his goodbye comes much sooner than expected.

“Sorry, cielo, but I have to get going. Practice starts early today.”

Right, there’s a 12-hour difference between Japan and Argentina. You nod in understanding and give him a wave with your sore hands, trying to look as energetic as possible. You sneak one last glance at him, admiring the slight glow to his face. “Don’t go around with that look on your face,” you half-warn, half-tease.

He smirks, tilting his face upwards and running a finger across his jawline. “What look? Oh, you must mean my boundless beauty.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “What are you talking about, gordo?”

You giggle as he squawks, computer speakers pitching with how loud he is. “I’m not fat!”

“Oh, you’re right,” you hum. “I almost forgot how flat your ass is. Don’t worry, I’ll see it in a week.”

You interrupt his passionate defenses and insults by blowing him an obnoxious kiss and ending the call, cutting it off so that he doesn’t have to. Even though the two of you’ve been long-distance for months now, only really having time to be in the same place during major holidays, Tooru always gets irritably sulky when he has to say the last goodbye.

As you get up, legs slightly wobbly and staggering, to peel off Tooru’s old bedding, you recall a brief text conversation you had with Iwaizumi. It took place three months into your relationship, when you and Tooru were experiencing your first send-off. Your work as a polyglot interpreter takes you traveling frequently, and you had met your now-boyfriend during one of your extended projects in Argentina. But all assignments must come to an end, and your had to head off to the United States for your next client.

The memory’s practically imprinted in your brain – Tooru endlessly sobbing into your shirt as he crushed you in a choking hold in the middle of the airport, you desperately trying to hold back your own tears, everyone else either eyeing at you two for blocking the way or gagging at your very public displays of affection. Later on, after less than a day since arriving to the States, Iwaizumi sent you screenshots of several missed calls all coming from a very distraught “Loserkawa.” He then also politely asked you to “smack your idiot of a boyfriend on my behalf” – which you still haven’t done yet, sorry – before blocking both of your numbers. 

Needless to say, it seems Tooru’s always been one for dramatics, even though, deep down, he’s sensitive and tender at heart. You wonder if he’ll cry when he gets home this time, since it’s been months since the two of you have last seen each other in person.

Yet somehow, with each passing day, as Tooru’s arrival itches dangerously closer and closer, he gets increasingly more difficult to reach. Your daily calls get cut so short that they barely reach half an hour, and the differences between when you send messages and when he replies extends from a couple of minutes to several hours.

You try not to panic. It’s not like these things haven’t happened before. In fact, your boyfriend has a bad habit of going off the grid when he’s not doing well in volleyball, still having not gotten fully rid of his self-degrading tendencies. You’re helping him work through it, but he can’t help but isolate and punish himself when he can’t reach his own perfectionistic expectations. But, regardless, he usually tells you when he’s experiencing a low, and he hasn’t said anything yet this time.

It’s now 48 hours before he’s supposed to arrive. You’re itching to text him, ask him if he’s begun packing, if he could bring back some Chocolinas and Rhodesias, if he’s as excited to see you as you are to see him, but he hasn’t even read your last message from yesterday morning about hypothetically tweezing his eyebrows, so you refrain. You ask his parents, but it seems they haven’t heard from him either in the past day and a half.

You rub at the creases in your forehead with a knuckle. You think you’ll make good on Iwaizumi’s request once Tooru lands in Japan.

Just as the threat crosses your mind, your phone buzzes with a notification, a text back from your boyfriend.

Guapo: please don’t, my eyebrows are perfectly fine.

Me: …

Me: is that really all you have to say.

Guapo: i’m sorry :(( i just got my phone repaired, so i was texting from my computer

Me: you could’ve told me

Guapo: but you’d make fun of me

Me: when do i not

Guapo: mean!!!! you’re so mean!!! >:(

Me: stop using emoticons like that, you oldhead

Guapo: i’m always young

Guapo: and cool

Guapo: and very hip

Me: i’m changing your name to gordo

Guapo: ew no

Guapo: wait what did you save me as before?

Me: don’t forget to pack

Me: and bring back snacks

You then tell him you’re heading off to sleep, feeling slightly more reassured.

It’s not a comfortable sleep, though. You have a nightmare. You dream of a rope tightly binding your arms to your body, incapacitating you and your ability to run away. You’re wriggling and struggling against the restraint on the floor, probably looking no different from an earthworm drying up on a sidewalk, desperately trying to escape from your unidentifiable captor. It’s also really, really hot for some reason.

You eventually wake out of frustration from your tireless pursuit for freedom, but even in reality, you’re sweaty and choking from disentangling yourself from… a pair of arms?

You sit up with a lurch, forceful enough to throw off their hold on you. You desperately look around, only to find yourself teetering on the edge of Tooru’s twin bed, with the very man himself squished uncomfortably between the wall and where your body was lying just a few seconds ago.

You gasp. “Tooru?”

You pat at his shoulder and shake him awake.

He grumbles, wanting a few more minutes of sleep, but you keep at it until he begins to blink awake. Once he’s conscious enough, a gentle smile breaks out on his face.

“Morning, cielo. Haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”

Tooru’s effortless seduction hits you squarely in the chest, the impact of his charm weighing heavily on your mind and body. His hair sticks and splays out in the perfect angles, his half-lidded gaze is the right balance between unintentional and smoldering, his lips still look so kissable despite being slightly chapped from his plane ride, and his hands are thick with veins and – you need him so badly.

He’s saying something – “How about we get some more sleep?” –, but you interrupt any and all of his accompanying thoughts by smacking your lips over his. He grunts, not having had the opportunity to take a breath beforehand, but you grab him by the collar of his sleep shirt and hold him in place.

When you do pull apart, lips plump and swollen, several prolonged seconds later, he captures your attention with an audacious laugh.

“Thought you didn’t want to do it here anymore.”

You growl, discarding your common sense to the wind. “We’ll just be quiet.”

Tooru beams at you with a cheeky smile before pulling you down onto his chest for a tight embrace, burying his face into the side of your neck.

He then lets you go so that he can stare up at you with dreamy eyes, and with a gentle voice, a tone so starkly in contrast to the heated, messy kiss the two of you just shared, whispers, “I missed you.”

You unravel at his words. You still yourself and take in the smell of his shampoo, the feel of his warm skin against yours, and the sheer fact that he is in the same room as you, breathing the same air as you.

“I missed you, too, amor.”

winter event masterlist

[z0mb1epuzzy]

Chris. I need Chris bad.

thinking about how if he met someone who surpassed his freak he would be so much more flirty and open like maybe he has a crush on someone who makes the FREAKIST comments towards him and he's like WHOA WHOA WHOA- now hold on...

but after a few more instances he finally starts to match energy and it ends up in them fucking really sloppy and wild after weeks of pent up stupidity ugh

me rn

Notes: Chris x straightforward reader, porn w plot, alcohol mentioned briefly, i listened to girls by the dare and fucking weezer while writing this…

✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭ ✭

no bc i LOVE THIS IDEA. i think chris would do very well with someone who’s very straightforward…. his “fatal” flaw is his inaction, he hesitates to do what he wants to do for the fear of messing up or misreading signals… sooo.. being with someone who’s very direct is actually ideal for him! well, sorta….

ya seeeee… i think he’d benefit from someone who’s very direct because there should be no question about your feelings towards him. Usually, when someone very directly says they want you, THEY FUCKING WANT YOU?? but this man lowkey stupit.. (me too king) and way overthinks till he’s diluted into thinking you’re just joking…. joshin… dare i say. (dun dun tss)(those were drum sounds)(please laugh)

which… inevitably results in him getting so insanely pent up, because he fucking WANTS YOU…. he’d absolutely never admit it, but he’d spend a pretty decent amount of time… y’know… daydreaming about the two of you in some not even kinda innocent scenarios…… so when you’re at a party, both a lil tipsy, shit is said… to say he lacks self control would be an understatement!!

he has the self restraint not to fuck you while ur crunk, obviously.. my babygirl is RESPECTFUL! but y’know… next day…. things could definitely happen… one heartfelt convo and all that bs later, ur suddenly on his couch!! he’s so needy, so pent up because he wanted to wait and be respectful, and talked himself out of everything he wanted to do and say in the past… but NEEOOOW!! you’re under him, his hips grinding against urs with SUCH desperation, and don’t even get me started abt when the fuckin ACTUALLY starts, he can’t keep himself from pounding into you, giving you messy desperate kisses to your lips and neck bc he literally CANNOT comprehend that he’s officially bagged you, that you’re ACTUALLY letting him do this…. and if you say dirty shit to him while he does it… LOOORTT. (bros lowkey scared its a wet dream the first time… we love u chris…)

[somniumfaults]

Hi! I just read your omega fic of Leo, Towa, and Haku. I was wondering if you could do one of them as alphas instead where they help you through your heat? It was literally the only thing on my mind the entire time I read it. Thank you! 😊

sorry for the delay!! Here's some alpha Leo, Towa, and Haku helping you through heat! :D in hindsight as I paste this into tumblr and read over what I wrote... Maybe I have a thing for crying? 😭

Sorry for any typos! I had to type this out on my phone bc my laptop is getting fixed :\

UPDATE: edited Sept 18th, 2024 for typos

omega vers here!

WARNING: NSFT under the cut!

Alpha Towa

Oh, he would have 100% be more possessive of you if you were the one going through heat. Don't get me wrong, he would probably love exhibitionism and showing you off when it's his rut, but it's a whole different ball game when you're the one smelling that good and tempting every alpha in vicinity. You won't be leaving Jabberwock under any circumstances until your heat is over. He's the only one who will get to see your fucked-out, crying expression as you fall apart on his dick or fingers from how overwhelmed you are. Never let it be said he left your needs unattended... Put simply, he's clingy (and wants so much cuddles), and even when things are said and done, you can be certain you aren't stepping out of that room until you're smelling exactly like him.

On the flip side, despite having an insane libido to rival an omega in heat (RIP you when he's in rut), during the moments in when he's not absolutely demolishing you with his dick, he's extremely sweet and fusses over you to the point of being overwhelming. If you aren't the happiest Omega on campus, it will be raining that night. He'll be feeding you the sweetest fruits he can find all while trying to cuddle you with his dick still in you if he can get away with it. You have to be careful not to look too fussed over anything or else he will read it as him doing something wrong and try to rectify it in the most excessive way possible.

Alpha Haku

Haku is in many ways the same as if the were an omega. He tries to have restraint, really. He probably takes suppressants for his scent and/or to help control when his rut is. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's to be caught unaware like that. He's also well aware that it's not healthy to repress his body's needs like that though, so what better way to make sure he takes care of that than to knock out your heat and his rut at the same time? Honestly, the amount of self-restraint he can show towards you even then is admirable.

As he waits for his rut to set in, all attention is on you. His hands on your hips trailing down to your legs, tucking himself between them so he can press kisses against the fat of your thighs. It's sweet... until he decides to make a move. He's not the type to be afraid to eat you out and make sure you feel good, and that's absolutely what he does. With both his hand and mouth being put to work, it would be any wonder if you weren't screaming his name and grasping at the sheets or his hair for dear life. Well, for as long as you can get his name out anyway. Despite being ever such the gentleman and prince charming, Haku does so love to see you fall apart for him. The messy look of tears tripping down your face as you sob and gasp for breath... To him, you're gorgeous like that. You're perfect. Beautiful. So good for him.

And well, his self-restraint can only last for so long. Especially with your scent starting to suffocate him as you fall further into your heat, desperation and depravity teasing him until there's nothing else on his mind but to bury himself in you. Rest assured, your thighs will be burning by the time both of you are done with your respective hormones. He'll be railing you in every position the both of you can think of, but especially any ones where he can stare and admire at just how beautiful you are when you're taking him do well.

Alpha Leo

If you're relying on Leo to help you through your heat, rest assured it's going to suck (in the best possible way ofc). Leo is nothing if not a tease, and this isn't going to change just because you're a sad little omega in heat. Asking him to be the one to help you is nothing short of an ego boost for him, because of course you'd come to him. Who else could possibly know how to ruin you like he does, hmm? He'll push and push your limits until you can't take it anymore, and only then will he finally indulge you in what you really need — his knot. Sure, he'll come to your room and lock the door behind him, but you'd be silly to think he would just show up and fuck you.

He's going to sit there and watch you desperately try to take care of yourself in whatever way you can first, whether it's with your fingers or toys. Put on a pretty little show for him if you're so desperate, omega. If you don't have any toys on hand already, don't worry. He'll make sure to bring along anything he wants to see you tormented with. Say "thank you" ❤️

When his own self-control starts to wane, maybe he'll finally deign you worthy of his touch... maybe. He'll look at your teary eyes and make you beg to have his dick in your mouth, even if he clearly wants nothing more than to fuck it himself. If you're good and he's feeling nice, maybe he'll even touch you while he does it too!

Eventually, once you're exhausted and desperate, hair plastered to your face from sweat and tears, he'll give you what you needed from the start. Neither of you will last long by this point, but you'll be damned if the relief doesn't hit hard. And as an added bonus, he'll make sure to have a nice warm bath drawn up for the both of you afterwards. God knows after all that you won't have the energy to walk.

[schwanemannsland]

Bill Collins and Self Curruption

I've had this personal theory ever since the ninth episode of Urbanspook released that, in short, Bill Collins was willing to enter this lifestyle with Mona at the beginning. Of course, this relationship (both as killer and as lovers) was incredibly one-sided at the end with Mona taking full control of Bill's every thought and action, but I have a hard time believing Bill was forced into this at the very start.

Bill Collins is by all means an American Joe-Schmoe; he has an honorable career in his local police force, he has a wife, he has children, he has that white picket fence type dream that every man strives for. Yet, despite all that, there comes a major catch: predictability. No matter how one obtains this nuclear family life it all runs upon the same script. No matter what he has to implement himself in events like anniversaries, holidays, family, vacations, school related events, that obligatory family drama, and don't get me started about the added stress of having to focus on paying taxes, the mortgage, what will and what won't insurance will cover, what trouble his kids caused, how much a new car repair will cost, and so forth and so forth. This American dream becomes a living nightmare once you have to juggle money and family relations that, at the end of the day, will amount to nothing and will never end with your deeds being thanked.

It's a monotonous life that I can't see a person like Bill Collins enjoying. At most, he would have forced himself into a delusion of enjoyment due to societal pressures and the need to abide by normalcy. This is all something he could never control so, to go completely against such routine, is the ultimate form of freedom. To live his life vicariously through his primal id with the removal of social and familial obligations isn't that insane of a concept for a middle aged man to commit. Yet, we are swayed to believe that he could never commit such actions. We, the audience, are fed this idea of "honor" and "respect" despite the lack of evidence outside of his job title as a police officer. 

This goes into my next point: he became a police officer for purely selfish reasons that had no relation to protecting the community he works for. I know, shocker; a bad police officer. I won't baby feed anybody on how corrupt the police system in America is, so I'll just focus more on the specifics of Bill Collins' career. Despite the gritty reality, we are told this idea of the police. We are told that an officer of the law can't be just anyone, but someone dedicated to the people. Someone who will put their life on the line to bring peace and justice when the citizens couldn't. We are told that this title is something only morally correct people can obtain. Bill very much goes against this ideology. I have a hard time believing that someone that easily became a bloodthirsty hedonist was a good cop to begin with. In fact, I am inclined to believe his desires for violence poked its head while on the line. 

Maybe Bill found himself jumping to physical restraint and assaulting suspects with weapons much quicker than his colleagues. Maybe he even jumps to the most drastic measure for small incidents like speeding or running a red light. Hell, maybe he seriously injured a convict for "justifiable reasons". Whatever it may be, violent tendencies don't pop out of nowhere for a person and a man that's in an environment that not only allows physically harming suspects, but encourages it isn't too far fetched. This could even go deeper if true with his actions being easily covered up by the department due to either image, his attitude and charisma, him being able to get his job done no matter what or a mix of all three. With such a small town, it would be a disaster if one or more officers were openly tried for misconduct and assault so it would be better to look the other way. We can't have the perception of the "good, morally correct cop" being questioned. 

The final point I want to cover is how convenient everything went in his favor once he and his family got affected by Mona. Think about it: he is spared from being killed, has had major pieces of evidence that pointed towards him being involved was destroyed (his car being abandoned in the ocean) or cleaned away (there was no mention of fingerprints or further murders besides hi infant once his house was investigated), and how he of all people obtained the killer's self portrait right before his home invasion. It's hard to believe Mona spared him nor that she would easily overpower a man like him, even with a weapon on hand. I'm inclined to believe he jumped at the opportunity to execute his family with Mona perhaps due to a spur-of-the-moment decision or a premeditated one crafted beforehand. Either way, the actions following didn't seem to benefit Mona in the slightest. Why would she destroy and abandon Bill's car? She never seemed concerned about leaving her prints behind nor was it going to deter the police away from her scent due to its placement by the lighthouse. If anything, it hindered her since she had to go about abandoning a car without the plate being read nor noticed in such a small town. The only reason she would need to get rid of the vehicle is if she wanted to wash away and hide incriminating evidence against Bill. 

We can further inspect this theory by looking at Mona's first painting of Bill. The painting is incredibly interesting in how it depicts a supposed victim due it being one of the most simplistic portraits so far (even "Scream Maggy Scream" had deep violets and hints of pink) with it being only black and white with the face itself being a cartoonishly bland one with two small eyes and a tiny smile on an elongated face. It doesn't show him being tortured nor in any sort of distress. It doesn't even have a puny title alluding to his demise with it just being dubbed "Bill Collins" (of course there is no sign of her giving it an official name so even assuming its named after Bill would be a stretch). With a quick glimpse it has a lot of striking resemblance to how Mona appears: pale skin, very smooth features, sunken in eyes, and a very simple yet off putting representation of human emotions. The only major difference is that he's popularly shown smiling, before and after Mona's involvement. It's safe to assume Mona is trying to reveal how similar she sees Bill and herself, from either actions, personality, or a mix of both. 

Now, the series isn't finished so Mona's reasoning for attacking the Collins family can easily go against everything I said. Maybe it all was just a coincidence and Bill really was that sweet hearted Joe-Schmoe. Maybe the painting towards him was made just to poke fun at how he looks and nothing more. Only time will tell. But, all and all, I believe Bill had a much bigger involvement than we are led to believe and is no better than Mona when it comes to that lust for sadistic torture. 

[bardicious]

Some things I think demon!Dean would simply do:

the sexual innuendos to Sam, every demon ever does this already, it would be 5x more common coming from Dean who not only knows Sam's horrible experiences with bodily autonomy, but would also crave it for clear signs of 'possessing' Sam

Keep Sam locked away somewhere

Torture Sam so he too can become a demon

Get into multiple fights/murders with demons who hurt Sam without his permission or who threaten Sam

Completely obliterate Sam's sense of reality "stone number one" and all that. He has the knowledge and the power to do some serious mental damage, in the name of having Sam think about him only.

Get jealous of Sam's fear towards Lucifer, ask Sam about what tortures Lucifer did so Dean can either match them or do better. Again, so Sam only thinks of Dean, not Lucifer.

Dean murdering anyone Sam's ever had remotely positive feelings about or anyone who's felt that same way about Sam. Castiel, Amelia, Jody, etc. Or murdering people Dean has had affection for to show his devotion to Sam.

Dean making up lies about who is and isn't in hell, just to show Sam that he didn't save anyone while hunting.

Dean talking about their parents like he knew them better, and constantly downplaying John's love for Sam.

Attempting to kill Crowley, so Dean could be the king of hell with Sam by his side. Dean convincing Sam he was always meant to be there "boy king of hell" and all.

So, anyway, I think the writer's knew demon!Dean would be even too fucked up for the audience to accept. Im so sad.

Haven't seen it yet, much to my dismay, but I have seen a few clips and me thinks they screwed up with demon!Dean when they didn't make him violently obsessive over Sam, maybe stalkerish-like, and keeping Sam in a little cage for his own "good". Truly missed opportunity.

Anyway, would love fics where demon!Dean makes sense, thanks.

[beigetiger]

Honestly Skulduggery in Hell Breaks Loose hurts my heart. He was simultaneously a hyper-violent asshole who sold out his teammates for a half-assed attempt at killing Serpine, but he was also JUST SO SAD. I spent the first half of this book wanting to punch him and the second half wanting to give him a hug, no matter how bad of an idea that would be. Anyways, spoilers ahead.

His self-esteem, for one, is absolutely awful, and he’s kinda right to think of himself in that way. He understands that his love of violence and hurting people isn’t normal, even if his friends go out of their way to try and not make him too uncomfortable. He questions Ghastly as to why he sticks around despite Skulduggery ditching camp to try and failing to kill a guy, and berates Ghastly for trusting and loving him on account of the fact that Skulduggery will probably just hurt him again.

And that scene where he was talking to Valkyrie and they were just chatting about random stuff? Broke my heart. At first I thought that Skulduggery might not like or trust someone who claimed to be his friend from the future, but him being happy to meet Valkyrie because it means that he’s still capable of loving someone and that he’s not a total lost cause was heart-wrenching. I really loved all of the Dead Men interacting with Valkyrie, but those two definitely hit me the hardest.

And another absolutely heartbreaking thing to watch was him using necromancy magic on Serpine by accident. The aftermath of the whole thing did such a fantastic job illustrating his frustration with his own magic, with how he killed Serpine, and with knowing that he’s now essentially damned his teammates. He also seemed so legitimately frightened by his own magic, making him default to refusing to acknowledge it as part of him and not want to talk about the subject. In fact, watching him panic and the other Dead Men react to his shadow magic was super interesting because they don’t really fear it. And why would they? Lord Vile hasn’t happened yet, Skulduggery is their friend, they all have nothing to fear, even if they are a bit out of their lane. Valkyrie was really the only one who understood the full implications of the situation that they were in, which gave her even more of a reason to panic because it means that the timeline had gone horribly wrong.

Also, some of the stuff that Serpine was saying to Skulduggery while chained up? Absolutely FOUL, I cannot even begin to imagine the amount of self-control it must have taken for Skulduggery to stand there and take all that for as long as he did. Because while he has pretty much no self-restraint for 90% of this book, this was the one place he knew he couldn’t mess up. And he messed up, not that it particularly mattered in the end anyways. But I like to tell myself that I have decent self-control, and I would have snapped that man’s neck so fast if he started talking in disturbing, gloating detail about the death of my loved ones. Really just goes to show that Skulduggery didn’t want to lose the rest of the people he cared about as well. That went great, didn’t it.

Somewhat unrelated to this whole tangent, but knowing that Skulduggery and Rustica (Ghastly’s mom) were buddies and would hang out and joke with each other hurt so much more knowing how Rustica dies.

And completely unrelated to this tangent, Valkyrie having to watch a version of her partner die only to kill an old man and have the timeline revert so that he’s alive but remembers nothing that happened must have been a DISTURBING experience. I’d probably never sleep again, I’d be so worried about the people I care about constantly. And also I’d be stuck trying to unravel the layers of the universe. I’m fully convinced that the reason Valkyrie sometimes blocks out information people are trying to give her (or trying to dumb it down/ trivialize it) is because this woman has handled the horrors of the universe and probably implements this technique to stop herself from going insane thinking about it.