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munson-blurbs · 3 months

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall.

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place.

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long.

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train.

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive.

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles.

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus.

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice.

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear.

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories.

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk.

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?”

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone?

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape.

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93.

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.”

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin.

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar.

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two.

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors.

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work?

That was sure to go over well.

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift.

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils.

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar.

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility.

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one.

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier.

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn.

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire.

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase.

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet.

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot.

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile.

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you.

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you.

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended.

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back.

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.”

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line.

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you. Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again.

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied.

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions.

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again.

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

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The bakery is a front!...Right? Part 5

Danny opens his eyes to the sight of a potent magical barrier glowing around him. It would have held off many of his subjects but did nothing against his court, much less the king.

Then, he noticed he was in some sort of cave, strapped down to a fluffy bed. There isn't much he can see besides the various machines hooked up throughout the place, various cars, two planes, what appeared to be a training ground, and a.... dinosaur?

Where the hell am I? He thinks, trying to recall what happened to lead him here. But all he can clearly remember is fighting with Phantom over going to the park. Everything after that was a blur.

He tries to move, frowning at the very little give of his restraints. One around each of his four limbs, three large belts over his knees, stomach, and upper chest.

After a few minutes of struggling as a human, he slumps in place.

His blue eyes fly over the runes that shine along the barrier's side, noting three magical signatures. This was a group effort. Strange. Who would put Danny here?

Phantom remains silent but watchful from their shared eyes as Danny scans his surroundings again to ensure no one is around before shifting. As soon as his ghost forms, the barrier flairs, indicating an alarm has been tripped.

Danny sighs tiredly, allowing his body to pass through the restraints. Phantom reaches out to push his hand through the barrier, wiggling his fingers on the other side. Just as they thought, it's not going to keep Danny inside.

Feels like water. Phantom says, and Danny agrees. Whoever put him in here either overestimated their strength or underestimated Danny. He hopes it's not another death cult. Those always left him feeling sick after dealing with them.

It's then Danny realizes another fact. Phantom does not feel like his body trying to split in half; Phantom feels like himself again, another part of who makes up Danny.

Like the inner voice when you read in your head, just as his ghost half had always been since he was fourteen. Danny had been in this creepy cave for over a week because his mating season had finally ended.

That also meant that Danny was missing a full week of memories.

He is going to have some words with whoever is responsible. Danny rechecks the barrier, realizing it's still flaring, and decides to wait for them to approach him. He can pretend he's trapped inside, hopefully creating a false sense of security and getting answers from his kidnappers.

He crosses his legs under him just as a portal rips open a few feet away from his barrier and out rushes a blond man in a trench coat. Behind the man is a woman in a magician outfit and a teenage girl in a purple cape. Danny scans each person, noting the barrier's magical signature matches them all, and knows they are responsible.

Trench coat falls to one knee, bowing his head in respect. "Your majesty."

The other two follow suit after he speaks, repeating his greeting. It seems Trench Coat is the leader. The ghost king leans back on his hands, frost slowly spreading over the blankets under his palms.

It crawls to the edges, slowly falling down the legs of the bed and around the floor. Danny stops it right at the lines of the barrier, knowing the blond man is watching it. The blond man's shoulder relaxes when the frost fails to go over the drawn lines.

So they did underestimate Danny. Well, it made things easier, at least.

"Where am I?" Knowing Phantom's voice echoes and unsettles the three kneeing magic users, he asks. Sam had once told him it sounded like the cracking of ice glaciers from within the giant ice caves after his friend returned from a trip to the artic with her parents.

Danny wasn't exactly sure what that sounded like, but he had always thought it made him more intimidating, especially when he kept his voice a regal calm. Tucker said the calm made it extra creepy, and he wanted to watch these three sweat right now.

"The Batcave, your Highness." Trench Coat responds. Danny's jaw drops.

"The what cave!?" He gasps, springing up from the bed to spin around and look at his surrounding better. He knows he just shattered the illusion but come on! It's the Batcave! This place was a legend among his customers! "Batcave as in Batman!?"

"Indeed." A new voice calls and Danny's head snaps toward a man hiding within a shadow. He's good for a human, but although the shadows open their arms to him, they are not part of him, and Danny can trace every inch of him as easily as though a spotlight had been shined on him.

"Batman" He whispers in awe. The Dark Knight steps out into the line of sight of the other three, ignoring Trench Coat when the blond man starts to hiss at him to kneel. "I got kidnapped by Batman. That's so metal."

Batman, to his credit, doesn't even flinch at the accusation. "You were deemed a danger to the public."

Danny snorts. "Been there. Done that. Got a cookie on the way back."

The mask man's eyes narrow. "Are you aware of the damage you have caused? The lives you have potentially ruined since arriving in my city?"

"Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. All I did was open a bakery." Danny glances down at the magic users before waving a hand. "You three can stand now, by the way."

The three stand as Batman steps up against the barrier. He looms over Danny in a poor attempt at intimation. Even with having to tilt his head back to keep eye contact and the glowing yellow stip of magic, Danny finds himself on equal footing with the human.

"Batman, bugger off. Now." Trench Coat hisses, yanking the other back a few steps. "We do not need a war with one of the most powerful beings in the multiverse."

"A being that tried to steal my sons." The other man growls, and Danny blinks.

"First of all, I didn't even know you had kids. Second, I have never met them in my life, much less steal-"

"Red Robin will not be going with you, no matter what you say!" Batman interrupts. "If I have to keep you here until the contract is neutralized, I will."

"This is not helping B." The woman dressed like a magician says. She was beyond nervous, a slight tremble ranking her frame. "We're supposed to be negotiating the terms of the engagement."

"The engagement?" Danny mouths, confused.

"We have his sister, Jassmin Fenton. That's a good enough starting point-" The girl in the cape starts, and Danny snaps to attention at his sister's name. Her neck is in his hand, cutting off her words with a chock gasp. He sneers in her face even as the other three scream at the speed he crosses the barrier.

"Where. Is. Jazz."

"Raven!" The other woman screams. "Prat eht gnik ni a egac!"

Her magic washes over him but freezes as Danny's power overtakes it. The spell lands on the ground as a sparkling clump of ice.

The girl claws at his hands, trying to pry him off even when a bear tazer slams into his side, sending electricity throughout his body. If he had been fourteen that would have been enough to have scared him enough into letting go.

He's not a little kid anymore, though. He backhands Batman away from him, catching the tazer he drops as he is flung and throwing it at Trench Coat.

It slams against the man, knocking him on his ass. "I didn't even do anything!"

Danny raises the girl, wondering if he should squeeze more- it's not choking her. He just wanted to scare her.- when Ellie came flying from the direction of a large stone stairway. It seems the Batcave was underneath something. "Danny, stop! Let her go!"

"They kidnapped Jazz!" He yells, eyes blazing in an angry green. Raven's eyes widened at the color. She chants a spell, but her magic is frozen like Zatanna's was before it could even form. She looks stricken.

Not surprising since magic is supposed to be one thing to never fail against the paranormal. Too bad for her Danny is the king and thus far more powerful than the average ghost.

"No, they didn't! She literally upstairs flirting with Jason!"

Danny lets Raven go to swing his head in Ellie's direction. "Who the fuck is Jason!?"

"A really buff book nerd."

"Of course he is."

"Yeah, he's also Peter Draper." Ellie continues with a What can you do shrug.

"Oh, word?" Danny tries to imagine Jazz and Peter, but his employee is so short-tempered that he finds it odd his sister would ever look his way twice. Then again, Peter was only short-tempered because he was trying to keep Alvin safe from Phantom's charm, so....maybe that's what got her attention?

"Your Highness," Trench Coat clears his throat. "We really need to discuss the engagement."

"What engagement?"

Ellie flies over to drape herself across his shoulders like a floating scarf. "The one between you and Timothy Drake."

"The Wayne CEO?" Danny never met the guy; how was he engaged to him?

"Yeah, but you know him as Alvin Draper or Red Robin." Ellie shrugs at his Godsmack expression. "The Bats thought you were selling drugs, using kids as carriers, and using the bakery as a front to cover up your crimes."

"Drugs? Child endangerment!? Why would they think I would do something so terrible?! My bakery is a lovely place!"

"Cause you're kind of shady, Danny. Fruitloop shady."

"I'm disowning you." Danny turns his attention back to the four - heroes? If they were with Batman, they had to be right?- and frown. "I love Gotham. I was just trying to sell pastries and help my community."

"Yeah, but you're still shady." Ellie laughs, ignoring the disownment like every other time Danny threatened her. "They sent in spies to figure you out."

"Spies? In my bakery?" Danny repeats, horrified. He snaps his fingers at his sister, narrowing his eyes. "You can never tell Andres he was right."

She bares her teeth in response, and he knows his store manager will be unbearable come Monday. Danny covers his face wanting to scream, until Batman steps to growl at him. "Tim isn't going anywhere with you."

Danny squints at him. "You're making it sound like I'm taking him by force."

"You are." And another voice jumps in, but this one is familiar. Danny twists around to see Alvin-er Tim calmly walk down the large stairway wearing only white pants. Along the sides of the pants are runes that make Danny's stomach drop.

They're the marking of a human sacrifice in the ghost zone.

"I won't resist." Tim continues stopping before a horrified Danny and clasping his hands tightly. Tim's gaze rests on his feet, every inch of him portraying submission. A group of people quickly come down the stairs, each trying to talk over the other, but Danny can't take his eyes off the human, giving himself up.

Phantom's core weeps. When a human is made into a sacrifice, there is nothing other ghosts can do to intervene. It's one of the Rules within the zone, like Truce Day. There was nothing he could do to save his employee.

"Who?" He whispers his ghostly glow highlighting the youth in Tim's face. Only nineteen. "Who do you belong to?"

Tim's hands twitch, but it's the only sign of discomfort as he lowers his gaze even more. "To you, your highness."

"Wha-"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Jazz yells, walking over to whack him on the head. Ellie moves so her hand can reach his skull and punches the back of his head. Several people gasp, scandalized, but she does seem to care as she starts nagging. "Daniel Fenton! You let this boy out of his human sacrifice engagement with you right now!"

"His what with what?!" Danny screams back, only to have Sam walk around a blond woman and stomp on his foot. "Ow!"

"This a dick move, Danny! Tucker, come over here and tell him!"

His best friend appears only to punch him in the gut. "It's mess up, man! Tim didn't even know he was walking into a fae circle when he went to your apartment!"

"Stop hitting me! I don't even know what the hell is going on!" He yells, rubbing his bruised stomach.

Jazz crosses her arms and taps her foot. "Five. Four."

"Why are you counting?"

" Three. Two"

"Jazz, seriously, stop it."

"One. Zer-"

"I, High King Phantom, release Timothy Drake with no conditions!" He screams, cowering away. The runes on Tim's pants snap like broken chains. "Just please don't say zero!"

"That's what I thought." She says, nodding her head and then laughing. "I can't believe that still works on you. I'm sorry we didn't explain, but I wanted to get Tim out of danger as soon as possible. Tim was the first to find you when the Bats raided your house a week ago, looking for non-existing drugs. Phantom took over in a mate craze and tried to keep him along with Damian- er Robin- prisoners. "

"We all had to join forces to free them, but you were too powerful. You ripped a portal into the ghost zone and took them." Sam takes over giving Danny a stink eye. She always does hate when Danny slips away to the zone to avoid them. "Tim struck a deal with Phantom agreeing to be his human sacrifice/ husband in exchange for his brother's freedom while the rest of us tried to get to the zone."

Danny doesn't know what to say but feels his mouth moving. It's Phantom who answers. "Again, from the bottom of my heart. My bad. Really. I just wanted a baby."

Ellie chirps, "Baby fever is a medical condition Phantom. Don't sweat it."

"Maybe sweat it a little." A man shouts from beside the frozen Tim. The teenager is staring at Danny with a kind of worship looking upon a saint. And a lover. Danny blushes slightly. "You stole my baby brothers."

"Richard. I can not have this conversation again with you." Phantom rolls his eyes and fades back into Fenton as he powers down. "All I did to Tim was try to cover him in blankets, feed him and make him sleep. My human side wasn't even aware of things."

"Still not cool, Phantom. I thought Danny was going to retake him after this visit," Richard responds, pressing Tim into his side. "Even if it was just due to your mating season, don't repeat it."

Danny takes over with a raised brow. "Don't go into my lair during my mating season, then. Who had you snooping?"

"We did what we had to." Batman is notably less hostile now that the contract between Tim and Danny is broken. Danny considers his words and then nods. He gets that. He would have done the same if he thought some creep was luring the street kids into something dangerous.

"Danny," Tim says, approaching the halfa "Will you go on a date with me?"

"Drake! No!" A child screams from the crowd, but Danny can only see those gorgeous blue eyes, and something deep within him uncoils. Phantom settles in Danny's soul with a content sigh. It's found its mate, after all.

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you." Danny pauses. "You won't work at the bakery anymore, right? I can't date my employees. That's a power imbalance."

Tim laughs leaning in to press his lips against Danny's. The other human's outraged cries fade away as Danny melts against him. "How could I ever think I could resist you. You're too perfect. "

"Wait- what?" Danny blinks, but Tim shushes him with another kiss. Both ignore how the Bats leap in to pull them apart, or Team Phantom rushes to protect Danny and fight them off.

John Constante watches the two groups with a frown "So...no war?"

"I don't think so?" Zatanna responds, confused, while Raven watches impassively.

Danny was right. Come Monday, Andres is unbearable, but Tim comes over for lunch and a quick make-out session, so it's worth it. Manolo returns later that day to invite Danny to his school band performance. His mother is now on her way to recovery, finally allowing him to learn the flute.

All is well in Phantom Bakes.

(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), (Part 4)

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #dead tired #The bakery is a front!...right?#Part 5 #End #Tim sort of fell in love with Phantom #and with Danny #Danny wake up babe- a new Phantom lore dropped

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ms-demeanor · 7 months

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it's hard to find legitimate data on risks associated with alcohol--a lot of results from religious organizations w/ vested financial interest in evangelical cult-type shit comes up when i try. i drink heavily occasionally, mostly because i just really like the experience of getting blasted with close friends once every few months--any advice on tracking down actual *reputable* data on the risks of that?

(tamping down on the urge to anonymously defend my actions in my favorite anarchism blogger's inbox but i *will* allow myself to defensively note that i never drink to the point of blacking out or puking. this isn't really relevant to the question i just have brain problems where i feel compelled to defend myself against imaginary assumptions.)

Okay i want to start this out by pointing out that I'm not particularly judgemental about drug use. Any drug use.

Basically, you do you. As long as you're not drinking and driving or otherwise doing harm (for instance, attempting to provide childcare while too intoxicated to do so safely) the only thing you have to worry about is what alcohol is doing to *you* and I was a smoker for like twenty years knowing full well how awful for me it was. If you want to drink and you know the risks, do what you want.

So, all that said, I mean this very gently (because it's clear that this is a sensitive issue for you) but it is not particularly difficult to find good data about risks associated with alcohol from sources less biased than American evangelicals.

For some research on the overall risks of alcohol consumption, here are some good, comprehensive, recent papers about the effects of alcohol on both individuals and populations.

Risk thresholds for alcohol consumption: combined analysis of individual-participant data for 599,912 current drinkers in 83 prospective studies

Population-level risks of alcohol consumption by amount, geography, age, sex, and year: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden of Disease Study 2020

Alcohol consumption and risks of more than 200 diseases in Chinese men

Getting occasionally blasted with friends is what's called "binge drinking" - which is defined as five or more drinks within two hours for men or four or more drinks in two hours for women, or reaching a BAC of .08 (the legal limit for driving in the US). This is a lot lower than most people think of when they think of "binge drinking" - that's five beers, an average bottle of wine, or two strong cocktails like a long island iced tea. Five or more drinks wouldn't put most people into blacking out or puking territory, and if you're a seasoned drinker a BAC of .08 may not feel like anything over the top or ridiculous, but it is a drinking binge nonetheless and there are specific risks associated with binge drinking. Here are some write-ups on binge drinking specifically:

Binge drinking: Burden of liver disease and beyond

Binge Drinking’s Effects on the Body

Effects of Repeated Binge Drinking on Blood Pressure Levels and Other Cardiovascular Health Metrics in Young Adults

I get the urge to feel defensive, it sounds like this is something that's concerning you and from the tone of your ask it seems like this is something that you were not aware of and has made you uneasy. (And it sounds like you're around a lot of people who ARE judgemental about alcohol consumption for reasons that have to do with them imposing their morality on you, which is a shitty position to be in)

But hey i wouldn't be a very good marginal anarchist if I wasn't about making sure that people have informed interactions with the world.

I still go out and get shitfaced every once in a while because it's fun and there are things that I can do to mitigate the risks (like making sure I'm around safe people, don't have access to a motor vehicle, and don't do it often) but I do so with the awareness that what I am doing could have some pretty bad consequences and I need to make sure to watch out for my health to keep an eye on the systems that drinking like that might impact. If you're gonna drink, you should be keeping an eye on yourself generally. If you're gonna drink heavily (even if it's only every couple of months), you have got to keep an eye on your liver, pancreas, and heart specifically.

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insxghtt · 8 months

Text

soulmates — kappa x reader

(sorry if this is a mess, i wrote it last night under the influence of a high dose of quetiapine. my insomnia fellas will understand.)

i see a lot of people talking about kappa as this bad boy figure, kinda similar to euronymous but, in my mind, kappa is waaayyy more charming. i mean, he has to be! after all, he is a cult leader and cult leaders rarely show their followers explicit violence.

i think what we saw in black mirror was the dark side of kappa, one that he only shows to his most faithful followers. the other side we didn't get to see is the kind kappa, the personality he has on most of the time. this manipulative, charismatic, charming kappa is the one who would convince you to do the most insane things for him.

first one, joining a cult. but, of course, you didn't call it a cult. no, you called it a family.

kappa was very good at reading people and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew you were an easy target. you were so fragile, so he did what no one else ever thought about doing. he took care of you. he showed you love.

it was hard to see kappa as this evil cult leader because he was the kindest soul you had ever met. he was different from all of the other men you had in your life. he treated you with respect.

kappa genuinely loved you. it wasn't healthy, but he genuinely loved you. gosh, he was obsessed with you. you were his godess. he knew about every detail about your life, which is why it was so easy for him to manipulate you into staying. that's why you never even realized that you were trapped.

but again, maybe kappa wasn't the only one with a dark side. you had it in you and he could see it too, which is why he chose you in the first place. the two of you were a mix made in hell.

he was possessive over you, but you were just the same way. although kappa wasn't monogamic, he was faithful to you because he could never ever ever be so obsessed with anyone else.

you two had this open, confused, agitated relationship, but there was one rule you two followed whithout question, and that rule was: other people were only allowed if the two of you consent to it.

other people could only have you, touch you, want you when he was right there watching, and vice versa.

the few times kappa lost his temper in front of the other followers, it was because of you. well, not you, but other man trying to get to you without your (and his) consent. kappa would suddenly become a beast, filled with rage.

he had the other guy pinned against the wall with a knife against his throat. the man was clearly intoxicated, which was the reason why he dared to even approach you in the first place. everyone knew you belonged to kappa. no one would dare to mess with you.

the guy was having a hard time breathing, too scared to even blink. kappa was staring into his soul like a mad man. everyone else in the room, who were partying just a few minutes ago, was now frozen in silence.

you were watching as you thought that maybe you should intervene and try to calm him down, but you didn't really want to. kappa looked so pretty when he was mad. his rough hands were holding the guy by his shirt, the veins in his arms and neck were more visible, his messy hair was covering part of his face, but you could still see his eyes burning with rage.

you rolled your eyes and touched his shoulder delicately and kappa immediately felt his muscles relax. he let go of the guy and watched as he ran away out of the room.

you were kappa's favorite drug. just one small dose of you was enough to make him forget all of his problems.

he turned to you and you gave him a kiss on the lips. just like that, kappa could hardly remember about what had just happened.

but when you were jealous, things were a little different. from times to times, when someone new joined the family, you would notice a girl staring at kappa in a more seducive, flirty way. kappa was very attractive and charming and everyone in the family looked up to him. some people developed feelings for him in the process and you hated it.

and when bitches try to get your man, that's when you become a beast yourself.

you were not as impulsive as kappa. no, you carefully observed and waited for the right time to get rid of them. you were quiet, calm and precise. not only you would stop them from getting what was yours, you would make sure they were completely removed from your lives.

out of the sudden, one of the guns would magically disappear for a day or two, just to be found later in the bag of clothes of one of the new girls. she swore she hadn't taken it, but you didn't believe her and, if you didn't, kappa didn't believe her either.

so you tried to hide your smile as you watched him send her away. he hated to do that, but one thing that kappa valued the most was honesty and he refused to let someone who had lied about stealing one of his guns be part of the family.

kappa would never know. behind his back, you made sure to keep all the girls away from him. of course you were good to them most of the time. you loved some of those girls like they were your sisters, but the ones who didn't respect the rules were easily discarted.

it wouldn't be right to say that you and kappa were a good match, but you two were definitely soulmates. he was made for you, you were made for him and nothing in the world could ever change that.

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shotgunbunny · 1 year

Text

Cherry Wine

Bunny's Sweet Nectar

WC:2k+ GIF by anxiouslilpanda87

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

[dark! cult leader!Ari Levinson x airhead!Reader]

[warnings: will have dubcon/noncon, cult aspects, 6'6 Ari, Older man and younger woman, reader is over 18!, will have murder, violence etc. air head reader!, busty reader, basically bimbo reader!]

{this chapters warnings; dubcon, smut, oral (f recieving), manipulation, daddy kink, housewife kink}

Ari was beyond smitten. If he could describe how he felt, he would say he was being suffocated by love. Your sleepy morning smiles and your gentle touches were turning him wicked and impatient. He needed you to share his last name now. Yet everytime the townspeople would say they're not ready.

He knew they were delaying the ceremony. It was a special thing and someone as pure and soft as you would be protected from seeing it if he was to marry someone else. But he had decided it was going to be you the bled with him on the alter. Ari would admit the process was strange, but after a Levinson did it they had their partners eternal love. He wasn't sure how it worked but he knew he'd find out soon.

Air let out a yawn, stretching and contorting his muscles until delicious pops and cracks echoed along his body. He smiled lazily looking up at the ceiling, he turned to you. Yet you weren't there. Panic immediately flooded his veins and he shot up, his eyes darting around looking for you. He was just about to climb out of bed and tear every door open when suddenly the door to the room opened.

And there you were. Dressed in your short night gown that Ari had specifically chosen because he thought it made you look magnificent. The way it gently hugged your hips and allowed for him to see the outline of your pebbled nipples the brushed against the dress, was truly a dream for him. He stared, absorbing you in and how angelic you seemed.

You smiled softly at him, holding a tray in your small arms. "Morning bear." A smile broke out on Ari's face, changing his demeanour from a lustful god to a loving man. It was quite the change but it made you feel safe. "Good morning bunny. What is this you have?" You giggled and walked over to his form which was half tucked under the bed sheets. You placed the tray down over his lap and anxiously said, "I made you breakfast in bed. I thought it would make your day even better to start with some good food and a smile."

He reached a hand out to your cheeks. You felt his calloused hand slide against your cheek and settle before he pulled you in for a kiss. Savouring every little thing you did from the small gasp that he swallowed up to the way your skin prickled at his touch. He was truly enamoured with every little thing you did. He pulled away and smiled up at you, brushing a strand of hair away and engraving this moment in his mind so he can forever reflect on the love that lingering everywhere.

Ari was surprised when he started waking up every day to breakfast in bed. He felt his heart swell at how you were slowly taking to the part of being his little wife. Everything about you was perfect to be his wife from how obedient you were if he simply told a lie to the chores you completed with the utmost efficiency. He truly had heart eyes every morning you came in with your little tray filled with his huge breakfast and placed it gently on his lap, placing a soft kiss on his beard cheeks.

Lord knows his patience was running so incredibly thin, he wasn't sure how long he could wait for you to bare his name. It was driving him insane seeing you wandering around his house in your short sundresses dusting his house all while not bearing his last name. He knew that he had to have his fill of you soon and it came much sooner than he expected.

Ari had come home after another troublesome day of surveying the town and his position of CEO at the city. He was dealing with so much stress but the second he'd taken his shoes off, peace eased over his body. Weighing on him like a familiar blanket that smelt of you. He slowly walked to the kitchen and stared at the truly magnificent sight before him.

You were dressed in one of his shirts that drowned you, matched with cute fluffy socks. He watched you cooking his dinner and his heart swelled. He headed over to you and wrapped his large arms around you, you turned your head and pecked his lips. A smile bloomed on both your faces, allowing the domestic atmosphere to settle in your veins. Ari squeezed you tighter and you giggled, making his heart speed up.

"My little wife, you truly warm my heart up, I am so lucky to have you in my life. And may I just say you look absolutely perfect in my shirt, you should wear them more often." He pinched your ass after speaking and you squeaked and jumped at feeling his large hands on you.

"Sit down, pretty please so then I can bring you dinner and everything." You stared up at him with puppy dog eyes and he pecked your forehead and then leaned down for a kiss. He pulled away slowly smirking when he saw you lean forward for more of his kiss. "Alright bunny, I'll wait for you to bring me dinner."

Dinner was positively amazing, you were a perfect little cook for him. He devoured every last bite and smiled at you the whole duration. God he could get high off the love he had for you. Some may say it was fast paced but he did not care. This love was destiny, he needed you, always had and most definitely always will. If anyone tried to deny that fact they would meet a grizzly end.

"I must admit bunny, I am desperate for dessert." You turned to stare at him while you put the dishes in his dish washer. Your grin peaked and you headed to the side and pulled out the dessert you had made, presenting it to Ari so proudly. You were so proud of your cooking always had been and now that you had a husband, you were going to make sure to feed him proper.

Ari's eyebrows drew together and he stared up at you until he remembered your purity and innocence. God he hated it sometimes, but the power he felt over outweighed the hatred. He chuckled and watched as your eyes scanned over him. He took the dessert from your hands and placed it on the table, drinking you in. He licked his lips, and stood to his full height. He stared down at your intimated form and caged you against the kitchen counter.

"Wrong dessert bunny." He watched as your eyes filled with tears, but he quicky reassured you with his words what he was craving.

"You see bunny, your cooking is phenomenal but I don't think the dessert you made is even as sweet as the thing I'm thinking about." You fluttered your eyelashes confused, what could he possibly want that was sweeter than what you made.

Your brain was quickly wiped clean of your doubts when Ari picked you up and walked to the bedroom where he threw you on the bed and walked towards you like a predator.

"What I want bunny, only you have. Only you can make. And I have no doubt in my mind that it is positively sickeningly sweet. And I am gonna devour every single drop." Ari then pounced on you, reaching up underneath the shirt you were wearing, and grabbing the hip part on your parties. He smirked at you and then began pulling them down admiring the cute blue lace. You let out a squeak but you were quickly silenced by Ari's harsh look.

When your panties were pulled off, he brought them to his face taking in a deep breath and sniffing them. He was rock hard for you. You smelt divine and he was so ready to begin devouring your cute little pussy. He glided his big hairy hands up your legs until he reached the top of your thighs. He pushed them down easily fighting your attempts to close them.

Your cute little pussy was exposed to him and he thought he was seeing heaven. You were already so wet, and he could tell you were so tight. He had to hold himself back from going balls deep in your at that second. Instead he blew cold air at you wet cunt watching as you wiggled and twitched over the strange feeling.

"God I'm so fucking hungry baby, are you ready for daddy to devour your little cunt? Daddy's gonna feast on your sweet sweet juice and get fucking drunk off it." Before you could utter a remark about what he meant, he was driving towards your pussy. He licked a long line from your tight drippy hole all the way up to your little button. He groaned when you let out a whine over feeling his tongue on your pussy.

"First taste and I'm already addicted. This is the nectar of the Gods bunny. This is what men go to war over." And with those words echoing around the room he spat on your cunt watching his spit dribble down your pussy before he latched onto your clit. Sucking and swirling his tongue around your little button trying to get as much of your wetness in his mouth as possible. He listened to your symphony of moans and he hummed, the sound vibrating on your button sending you into over drive and bucking your hips.

Ari then entered your tiny pussy with one of his fast fingers, going in and out before bringing his second finger in. He scissored his long, fat fingers in you and he felt that spot and continued to brutalise it with his fingers. He pulled away from your clit and began licking and kissing it, listening to you and your begging. Your small hands reached down and knitted themselves in Ari's hair. He snaked his other hand up the shirt you were wearing until he reached your breasts and began flicking and pinching your nipples.

You pushed him closer to your wanton pussy, begging for more of the pleasure the seemingly only he could bestow on you. You began humping his face, trying to get as much stimulation as possible. Ari smirked before going back to loving your wet right cunt. He squeezed your breast and groaned, allowing dirty words to fall out of his mouth while he was soaking in each bit of your sweet juices.

You bucked your hips feeling yourself climax against Ari, and all of a sudden the butterflies that were burning in your stomach dropped and you came. Soaking Ari's long fingers and his mouth. Ari slowly pulled his hand out from under your shirt and then slowly pulled his fingers out of your pussy. You watched him, breathing deeply from your climax, take his fingers in his mouth and licked his fingers clean from your wetness.

His beard shined from your juices and you blushed. He smirked and cleaned you up before he pulled out a new pair of panties for you. He leaned down to kiss you and you kissed back, immediately tasting the tang of yourself on his tongue. He pulled away and stared at you. "I was right that was the sweetest thing I have ever tasted. That pussy is mine now. I spat on it, it belongs to me."

You giggled before your remembered what he said, "What did you mean by what you said?" He looked at you, his attention on you and you only, "What do you mean bunny?" You furrowed your brows when Ari brought his hand up and smoothed the furrow away and smiled at you. You blushed while speaking, "Well you said my um, my juice was Nectar of the Gods. What does that mean?"

A deep chuckle bounced around the room, "You'll find out soon, bunny. I promise." He then scooped you up onto his chest and cuddled you. You smiled and headed to sleep feeling safe and protected in his arms and considerably more relaxed after cumming.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levison x reader #dark ari levinson x reader #dark ari levinson #ari levinson #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x innocent!reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x plus size reader #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson dark #a.levinson

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afro-hispwriter · 9 months

Text

My Everything(Kai Anderson)

Kai Anderson x black!reader(no heavy descriptions)

Summary- You're Kai's everything but you don't know it until he says it

Warnings- brief fear of s/o, slight housewife!y/n, slapping, meadow being a bitch, slight vulnerable kai

Wc- 1.9k

Being the mother of the children of a cult leader was surprisingly better than expected.

Kai always treated you well, ever since the day you met he always seemed to have a sweet spot for you. And it always shocked you because you've heard so much of him from Winter who introduced you two in the first place.

And with how sweet he treated you it wasn't long until you fell in love with him.

But everything changed when you got pregnant, and it was also around the time the cult started forming. You wanted to join, be a part of something but Kai said you weren't allowed to.

You ended up having twins, a boy, and a girl. Peter and Paradyce. Kai at first wanted to name Peter, Charles, or Charlie but you convinced him to Peter.

"We should consider sending them to school, let them get a taste of hanging out with other kids." You say as you watched Kai read through the pre-k brochures.

"Women have always taught their kids at home and they always turn out fine." You hated when he turned all misogynistic.

"Kai, please it's already hard enough for me to take care of the twins and the house at the same time. With them, at school, this would give me time and peace of mind to stalk up on groceries and any other errands I need." He set the brochure down and rubbed his chin.

"Okay, doll." You were shocked by how compliant he was.

"Really? Okay, I'll call the school tomorrow." You stand up with a smile and as you walked past him he grabbed your hand making you stop.

"Anything for you." Your heart swelled at his words and you swear you could've melted when his lips met the back of your hand.

"So you're telling me these past 3-4 years you and Kai haven't talked about what you are? At all?" Beverly asks you.

"Im just the mother of his children." You say as you turn the stove on.

"Please, you're basically his housewife," Meadow says, bitterly you should say. You frowned and put the pot on the stove.

"She's kind of right, you're his housewife that he has sex with almost every day," Beverly says and you sighed.

Were you really just the housewife?

"Don't listen to them Y/n," Winter says and swings an arm around your shoulders. "You should hear the way Kai talks about you, he loves you and the kids so much." Ivy walked in and threw some packages on the table.

"Are we shit-talking Kai? Because he's been a real dick lately, but whats knew?" They all laughed besides you and Meadow.

"Kai is nice to me." They all look at you.

"I guess, he probably just has a sweet spot for you which is very hard to believe."

"I guess." You respond and pressed your lips together. Meadow scoffed again and rolled her eyes before walking out. You never knew why Meadow never liked you, you've always tried to be nice to her.

"Don't worry about her, she's just angry that Kai is in love with you and not her." You couldn't deny it made you jealous knowing another woman loved Kai like you do. But now you know why she doesn't like you.

You questioned yourself the whole night.

Were you really just someone who made his life easier?

You just dropped the kids off at school and a meeting was just ending. As the members started walking up the stairs and leaving the house one by one. You stood just outside the basement entrance, trying to gain the confidence to talk to Kai about a serious matter.

When nobody came up you took in a deep breath. And leaned against the wall.

Kai told you that you weren't allowed in the basement, it was his house so he had the right. But you've been living in that house for the past 4 years, you've cleaned that house multiple times and kept it up to date. It's just as much as your house as it is Kai's, so you were going down into the basement.

You walked down the steps quietly, just encase there was someone still down there. And there was. You peered down so you could see but was still hidden from anyone's eyes. Kai and Meadow sat across each other with their pinkies linked.

Anxiety, jealousy, and insecurity surged through your veins. But you had to see what they were doing. They talked lowly but from what you heard Meadow said something about 'Housewives' and 'Alcoholics'. You thought it was no big deal but it seemed to anger Kai because he suddenly raised his hand and smacked Maedow across the face, hard. Making her fall and hit the ground.

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth.

"ARE YOU GOING TO WASTE MY TIME!?" His screaming startled you so you slowly started to back out, shutting the basement door behind you softly. Your heart was racing and you felt a little lightheaded so you sat down on the couch with your head in your hands.

You've never seen him act that way. That wasn't your Kai right there. But what if that was his true self and he just used this fake version of himself around you?

It wasn't long before Meadow came up the stairs, trying to make everything okay. She didn't even say goodbye as she closed the front door behind her. Kai came up next and your heart started racing. His fists were clenched and he had a scowl on his face. You stayed quiet waiting for him to make a move and he did.

He slowly started walking to the couch and flopped down next to you making you bounce with it. He groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"Kids at school?" He asks not looking at you.

"Mhm."

"Good, that means we're alone." He says and suddenly wraps his arms around you and roughly tried to pull you into his lap. You gasped and shoved him away, almost falling off the couch. Kai looked at you in confusion, more like as if you went crazy.

"I-I have to go get groceries for lunch and dinner." You said shakily and walked away. Kai frowned and his eyes followed you to watch you grab your bag. He stood up and leaned against a support, he then dig into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Go get everything and pay with this." He says and holds out his debit card. "Get yourself something nice too." You hesitantly grabbed the card and tossed it into your bag.

"Thank you." You walked past him but he grabbed your arm and dragged you back.

“You can’t leave without giving me a kiss from those perfect lips.” He started to lean in and you let out a small sigh. You didn’t want him to get angry so you complied and pecked his lips. “Hey-.” You cut him off.

“Gotta go.” You left quickly before he could say or do anything, leaving him standing there in confusion.

You came back home and unloaded everything, all by yourself. While Kai typed away on his computer, not even sparing you a glance.

You’ve never been scared to talk to Kai because you always believed he was a good man with some issues. You reorganized the fridge and pantry and put all the food in its place. And as you did so you didn’t notice Kai start to walk up behind you. He peered over your shoulder and his chin dug into your shoulder. The slight pain and ticking made you tense up.

“Why do you keep tensing? Relax doll.”

“I-I can’t.” You didn’t turn around just kept pulling things from the bags. Kai chuckled and put both of his hands on either side of you and rested them on the counter, trapping you.

“Come on, you’ve been acting weird and denied me your sweet perfect pussy this morning.” He cooed in your ear and reached down to grab your cunt through your leggings. You whimpered and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop.” Once again, another rejection but this time Kai let out a low rumble. He flipped you around and shoved you into the counter.

“Why do you keep saying no?” He pushed himself flush against you and you stared up at him in fear.

“I-I-.”

“SPEAK!”

“I SAW YOU HIT MEADOW!” You say and squeeze your eyes shut. “I went down there to talk to you about something, and I saw you smack her.” He stayed quiet and backed up.

“I thought I told you too never go down there.”

“I know.”

“THEN WHY DID YOU!?” He swung his arm at you and you instantly cowered down and shielded your face. You didn’t see but Kai’s shoulders fell and he pulled his hair slightly.

“Please don’t.” You whimpered and suddenly there was a thud. You opened your eyes and searched for Kai but he wasn’t there, so you looked down.

He was on his knees in front of you looking down.

“Kai?” He looked up and raised himself on his knees. He grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him so he could bury his face into your stomach.

“I'd never hurt you or the kids, you just saw me disciplining Meadow.”

“Why?” Tears started to brim in your eyes.

“She wasn’t being respectful of my time baby.” He grabbed your hands and kissed them. You swallowed bard and tears started falling.

“What am I to you Kai? Your housewife, mother of your children, what?” Kai took in a deep breath and started to sit back and pulled you down gently with him. You were hesitating clearly.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won't hurt you.” You softly landed on the floor and he pulled you to straddle him. “You baby are my person, the person I can come home to and be vulnerable. And everyone knows I hate that. You’re my everything baby.” You let out a shuddering cry and Kai pressed your foreheads together. “I'm sorry I scared you.”

You didn’t respond, just pushed yourself into his body. He kissed the side of your head before grabbing your hair and gently pulling your head back. There was a small moment of just staring into each other's eyes until Kai slammed his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he started to push you down to the floor.

“Not on the floor.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Yes on the floor.” He pulled away and buried his hands up your shirt. “I'm going to marry you, you’ll be officially the queen.”

“Aren’t I already, your followers all fucking respect me.” You say and he pinches your skin making you gasp and buck your hips.

“I love when you talk like that.” He started to take his shirt off and you stopped him by placing a hand over his chest.

“I forgive you, Kai.” You reached up and stoked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed the palm. You pushed your crotch against him to make his bulge rub your clothed clit slightly.

“So needy.” You look back and looked at the clock on the stove from an upside-down angle.

“We’ll send Winter to get the kids.”

A/n- hope you guys liked this:) I'm thinking of writing a series of one-shots set in this fics storyline

#kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x black!reader #kai anderson #ahs cult #evan peters x black!reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #kai anderson smut #evan peters smut

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 10 months

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Note: I've decided to tell this in a partial epistolary manner. Some scenes will be told through letters and such. Others through plain old story telling in my usual style. I've never done this before, but the prompt really took ahold of my imagination.

TW: referenced cult, parasites, hunger, fear of death, human whumpee, vampire caretaker

Dear Rahab,

Well, I've finally done it. I'm sure you'll be very relieved that I found a place to stay, given that Rosemonda or one of her loyal servants doesn't find this letter. I hope you burn it as soon as you're done reading. I know you aren't allowed to have a phone, and I still haven't gotten one, so the letters will have to work for right now.

Before you read this next part, I want you to remember that I love you dearly. Horrible start, I know. But I'm your little brother. Do you really expect anything better from me after all these years?

The man who's letting me live with him is a vampire. That's the kicker. I know you must be horrified, but it's a decent enough arrangement. His name is Ishtar. A funny name, isn't it? Belongs to a woman. I asked him about that. He acted all prickly and told me in no uncertain terms to shut my trap.

But that's all besides the point. Ishtar found me stumbling through the woods. Can't you picture it, Rae? Your dear brother, half dead, covered in leeches and ticks from marching through a swamp, chilled to the bone, I could go on. Then this vampire finds me. I start saying my prayers, because G-d knows I haven't lived a good life. I don't know much about the world to come, and too much about the damnation Rosemonda preached. I really thought I was going to die.

Then he starts yapping about how I'm trespassing. "Are you blind? There are clearly keep-out signs." I missed the signs, obviously. He wasn't really angry, just ticked off. Then he saw the sorry state I was in, and carried me back to his house. Yeah, he carried me, a bridal carry to be specific. You would have laughed if you had seen us. We looked like the cover of a trash romance novel, but I was too filthy to be any sort of princess.

His house is quaint. I like that word. Quaint. It sounds nice. Anyhow, no electricity. It's not like a nocturnal vampire needs light bulbs. I've had time to look around since half-way recovering, and he has a lovely garden. Oh Rae, you'll hate this part of my oh so lovely story. But I promise nothing happened. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.

Ishtar stripped me down and tossed my half conscious ass in a bath, without saying much of anything. Wrinkled his nose a lot, and I don't blame him. I can't recall exactly what I was thinking, just that I was too tired to be scared anymore. I do remember him picking off the leeches and ticks though, mostly cause he kept looking at me like he was daring me to crack an offensive joke. I sure as hell didn't.

He got me outta the bath and gave me some water. Surprisingly, he had food. That is to say, he left me in the kitchen and came back two hours later with a basket of plums and a freshly butchered duck. I made quick work of as many plums as I could fit in my mouth without choking while he cooked the duck. I think he used tumeric or something, it tasted weird but I was too starving to care after not eating for two days.

I think I must have fallen asleep. It's all so effing hazy. But I woke up in this grand bed. Nicest thing I've ever slept in. I don't know why exactly a vampire has a bed when they sleep in coffins. Or is it caskets? I don't really know the difference. Anyhow, he was just sitting there staring at me all creepy like.

Vampire eyes aren't exactly red, you know? They're reflective like a cat, all the way down to having those thin pupils. Red, orange, green, they just keep shifting when the candlelight hits at different angles. Not exactly something you want to wake up to staring at you in a darkened room.

He broke the creepy ass silence to ask me why the hell I was on his property. I told him the truth, figuring there was no way in hell a vampire was in cahoots with Rosemonda. She hates them, as you know full well. He was oddly impressed. Muttered something about heroism. I don't feel like a fucking hero. Oh, he liked my name. Kept repeating it under his breath. Real weird fellow.

Anyway, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit I begged him not to turn me away. I may have cried. Just a little. He just looked me over, silent for a few minutes, and offered me a deal. Remember what I said about how much I love you? Good. The deal went like this. He'd let me live with him and he wouldn't breathe a word if our darling cult came to call. In exchange I'd give him a healthy amount of my blood. Once the anemia from the leeches goes away, obviously.

I know, I know. I'm being stupid and reckless. My body is going to end up fertilizing his garden. Mother would be so disappointed in me. I've heard all of that from you before. Well, besides the second to last one. But close enough. I'm fine though. Still not over the anemia, so he hasn't tried to drink me. You know how low my pain tolerance is, so I hope I don't act like a coward next time he gets peckish.

He doesn't talk to me much, you know? Just lets me wander around his house and pick fruit from his garden to eat. I haven't admitted that I know nothing about butchering yet, despite the meat cravings. I don't see how you went vegetarian. I would kill for some bacon.

Sorry, I know I shouldn't be joking so much. But I'm not sure what to say. A lot has happened, but I'm safer than I've been in years. I have food in my stomach and don't have to listen to sermons to get it. If you want me to rescue you at any time, just say the word. I'll whisk you here when you're out proselytizing. I doubt Ishtar will mind. I mean, you're my sister.

I'll cut this letter short. I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here. I hope you're doing enough proselytizing for Rosemonda to give you good meals and a blanket to sleep in. I know I'm repeating myself, but I need to say it one more time. Just in case. I love you.

Sincerely yours, Mordecai

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @devourerofcheesecake @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whumpshaped @heavenly-whumper

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Whump #Human whumpee #Vampire caretaker #Expository whump #Modern whump #Cult whump

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desceros · 11 days

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Hatred. That has to be the emotion Leo is feeling, Right?

Leo looks to the Tupperware of cookies next to his bed. Against his better judgement he opens it and pops one of them into his mouth. Immediately the buttery delight of sweetness hits his tongue. Making him swoon, making him cringe. "Too sweet." Leo clenches his hands into fists and presses them into his face. She is taking Donnie away from him, She is touching and taking what should be his to do based on birthright alone. He was the one who taught Donnie how to speak again, was the one who sat at his twins bedside as Donnie shook and cried and begged to be put back in that fucking hellish ship. NOT HER. She wasn't fucking here for any of it. So why. Why did Donnie have to go and choose her over him. What comfort could be found in some girl that Leo or anyone else in the family couldn't already provide. Leo is practically doing this chick a favor by allowing her this close in the first place, and She goes and breaks down every barrier this family has like its an Olympic sport. Healing them all like its easy. Like being helped could have been this easy all along. He should be bitter, he should hate her, and be doing his best to shut her out. Steer her away from the wounds Leo has diligently spent the past decade trying the guard. So why.

Why cant he stop thinking about her. The way she smells, the way she smiles. Why cant he help but want her close where she can be warm and inviting and so, so bright, And kind, trusting. so, so trusting and willing to do anything to be apart of this family. Leo can see it in her eyes. The little glints of past heartbreak and trauma that make her so pliable. Hell, he is half convinced that if April hadn't been the one to find her first she might have joined the first cult she bumped into. So desperate for belonging she would listen and trust any shred of friendship that was thrown her way. So desperate for belonging in fact, that when Leo touches her she accepts it like its nothing. Because what would Leo have to hide, right? He's old reliable Leo, your bestfriend. Totally not the type of guy to rub one out to you while your in the shower. Leo feels himself tense and grow wet at the memory. How the smell of her swirling with the steam in the air had intoxicated him to the point of damn near insanity. He had to do something about it. His hand pressed inside himself as he did his best not to leave a trace of the deed behind. Shame and euphoria heating him from the inside out. God its pathetic, Its maddening. She's fucking and taking his brother from him and Leo cant fucking stop thinking about how she might taste. How she might sound as he sinks into her, Imaging how she might tighten around him as he takes her by the throat and squeezes. His hands painting her throat in pretty blue bruises. He wants to hurt her, He wants to claim her. He wants her. God, he wants her. He wants to hold her close and protect her like he has been protecting the rest of them, with barred teeth and selfishness. He wants to sent her as his and mean it. Fuck, maybe he already does. Maybe he has been this whole time and has just never realized. Every touch, every caress, every teasing remark and every coy little twist of the knife, has actually been him craving something sweet.

Idk what happened the song started playing and I blacked out and then when I woke up I realized I had sent this to your inbox. Symphony Leo save me save me Symphony Leo

ohhhh that hit the spot

#ask tag #blurple symphony au #not my fic #does lines of this

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dragonofeternal · 11 months

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Hot take/unpopular opinion time?

While I understand the urge to give Legato something nice by having him be rescued by Vash instead of Knives and think there's some very cute art and thoughts out there...

That would not fix him and it would not make him happy.

Knives's "salvation" for Legato wasn't just an end to Legato's present suffering, it was the fact that he completed the work Legato could not, even left a sliver of life enough for Legato to take some vengeance of his own. He would NOT be content or happy just to be taken away from his suffering in a nonviolent way. Vash would saunter in, shoot to disable the people actively raping Legato, and whisk Legato away, forcing him to watch those bastards as they pick themselves up to keep living their lives. Their survival would needle at the back of his brain, bristle any time he saw something that reminded him of that time in his life.

And for all that I love Vash the Stampede, I don't think he could give Legato the kind of help he needed to survive and thrive again. Vash is kind of like a wildlife rehabilitator- he takes people out of crisis situations, helps the to soothe the hurt, but he doesn't try to get attached and he tends to quietly slip out once he feels like they've reached a space where they're stable and the danger is gone.

Vash doesn't give people answers, he asks people to look within and find them for themselves.

Except Legato had reached a point where he felt he *had* nothing left within. We see his eyes go dull, watch all hope leave them. And when he and Vash fight at the end of TriMax, we see Legato recognize that dull flatness in Vash's eyes too.

Vash cannot give Legato something he doesn't have.

Knives, on the other hand is FULL of GLORIOUS PURPOSE. Is it good purpose? Is it smart purpose? Is he doing anything other than flailing around like a muppet made of sharp objects and fear and anger most days? No! But it's a purpose and it MATTERS.

And it's a purpose he can share with Legato, who needs something to believe in, something to fill himself with again because he feels so fucking empty. With Knives, there's a ready answer for the yawning emptiness in Legato's soul.

I'm not sitting here going "becoming the number one Kool-aide drinker in the Cult of Knives was a good life choice for Legato Bluesummers" or anything like that, but I WILL say it's a choice that gave him the ability to keep going. It's a choice that makes him Legato Bluesummers and not someone else.

Because my other concern with Vash's attempts to impress morality on Legato is what I said at the very top: Legato is never going to forget or forgive the people who wronged him. He's not going to let go of wanting to kill and destroy and hurt. There is a trolley problem of one thousand three hundred and one lives versus Legato's singular personhood, and if he is monstrous to want vengeance, if he cannot be allowed to take vengeance, then the only answer is to flip the track from his persecutors to himself. It's a rather simple solution, when you don't feel like there's a reason to be alive.

(all manga caps are taken from @trigun-manga-overhaul)

#Legato Bluesummers #Vash the Stampede #trigun #doemeta #long post #rape mention tw #suicide mention tw #you know it's Legato backstory discussion so it's kinda what it says on the tin #this is not in any way meant to be a dig on these aus #like I said they're cute! I just see Leggy a bit differently I suppose...

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maegalkarven · 6 months

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I understand what you’re saying about the Chosen of the dead 3, but I think Orin and Gortash are in the same boat. She wasn’t part of the plan at all, she killed or tried to kill her sibling to actively be part of the plan. She wasn’t even Bhaal’s chosen, she forced into that position herself. And if her abuse is grounds for understanding, then I’d say Gortash’s abuse is too. Sold to a devil as a child and tortured for years until he escapes and he grasps at anything to be in control so no one can control / hurt him again. I think he’s a shit person that did shit things, but I do like the character. And I don’t think Orin’s abuse outweighs that of Gortash. Someone/something messed them both up really bad. Bhaal uses Orin’s bloodlust and trauma to get her to do what he wants, Bane uses Gortash’s fear and need for control to get him to do what he wants. Gortash isn’t more/less redeemable because he’s the smart one that put the plan together. Also being Bane’s chosen means if he fails, he’s tortured for eternity. After being tortured for years, I’d imagine he’d do quite literally anything to not end up there again. Either they’re both redeemable or they’re both not in my eyes at least. Ketheric is the most redeemable for sure, he started out with a decent reason at least.

Gortash is my absolute fav actually because of all the layers. He's a fucking onion.

"Trapped in narrative- escaping the narrative"wise Gortash is the only one who actively walks into His.

He could do anything he wanted after escaping Hells. He wasn't exactly chained up or forced to climb the ladder to world domination.

Back then he still had a choice, even if his mind, twisted and turned by being Raphael's captive, didn't want that choice. Because fear is a strong thing, fear can control person in the worst possible ways. I believe Gortash chose "be the worst ever so no one can hurt him again" road and narrative himself.

But he CHOSE it. (The same way, some might argue, Ketheric chose not letting Isobel go, but I think Ketheric simply wasn't able to let her go)

Orin is different because she didn't exactly force herself into the narrative; she had always been in the narrative. She was born into the narrative.

No Bhaalspawn is ever free and no Bhaalspawn is ever not Bhaal's tool. She would inevitably be put on Durge's path because Bhaal loves putting his children against each other and because only One Bhaalspawn can remain. She even tried to play by the rules and challenged Durge, who didn't take her seriously and refused.

Both Orin and Gortash are more tragic than Ketheric because they're broken children who can never let it go.

Gortash is willingly not letting it go while Orin is literally trapped in it (her family, her cult, Father Bhaal in her head).

Ketheric is someone who, if convinced he can actually redeem himself (and if Isobel is alive), would try it.

Orin can only be redeemed if you forcibly take her out of her cult and cut off Bhaal's influence getting DIRECTLY INTO HER MIND. (Bhaal doesn't really have children, only victims)

Orin could easily be on Durge's place, tadpoled and amnesiac. Tbh I feel like her losing memory is the only way she could ever break free because for her where was nothing but Cult and Bhaal. She wasn't allowed anything else. Confronted with the truth about her upbringing, she's horrified; she also had been punished by Bhaal before for disobedience, Bhaal commands her what to do and Bhaal literally strips her of her own will and body because this is what Bhaal does. But if we can claw her out of it, knock her memories away and cut Bhaal off? Then she has a chance.

That's pretty much the only way she can have it (there's a reason Jaheira calls her lost soul).

But Gortash would not want redemption because he was not forced into the path of tyranny. He chose it. He quite likes it up on the top. He's comfortable over there being the worst and selling people and giving explosives to children. The only thing better would be if he had someone to share his kingdom with, someone who gets his genius.

If put on the ground, he will try to climb right back again. He doesn't care about freeing himself because in his mind only on the very top is where he is free. This narrative not his cage, it's his castle, he build it and he's not giving it up.

That's why any attempt to actually "redeem" him would fail because he is Not Interested in That. He is interested in Power and Being the Biggest and Strongest. Also so ppl would love him, idk how he plans to balance it out with his tyranny, but he pretty much requires the gaping audience. Admire him, everyone.

I have several plots of dragging him off his high horse bc the other alternative is his death, but all these plots require things to be the way where he's actively stripped of power in some way or another bc only his own survival will make him somewhat cooperate on an equal level (one particular ally, durge or tav, but more often durge aside). He is not a team player. He pretends he is.

There are, sure, some AU salvations for him, but no redemption because He Genuinely Does Not Regret a Thing, nor will he.

Neither is Orin, but Orin is a broken doll with a god of murder in her head. She lost herself so long time ago no one even recalls it.

Gortash has himself because no one ever had him. He will do anything for his survival and this is why he does not want or require redeeming. Not dying from Netherbrain, that's another story. But he inevitably always serves his own interests first.

Orin fights for the awful love and approval of a cruel god, Ketheric's love for his daughter transcends her death.

Orin and Ketheric's narratives are two sides of the same coin.

"A child craving affection of a cruel parent" VS "parent doing unimaginable horrors bc of the love for their child."

Gortash is out of that particular narrative, his narrative is "There's No One But Me. Only I Matter. No one loved me so I will love me in excess. No one loved me so no one deserves my love".

It is an echo and awful influence of his tragic past, but it's something he actively chooses. He loves that narrative of his, even if it doesn't exactly fulfill him 100% (because it's lonely on the top. Because somewhere deep inside Enver Flymm still lives. Because he can't let Enver Flymm go no matter now pathetic that past self of his is).

His tragedy is of being lonely af and not admitting it/not having anyone to match him in his genius, but not his Tyrant Path. This one he chose for himself.

The thing is, of course gods use their Chosen ones. I think Gortash knows that, and I think he also actively uses Bane. He wears the coat protecting him from the fear and is a chosen of a Dread Lord. That's telling. He doesn't actually serve Bane, he serves himself and aligns himself with Bane for as long as it works for him.

#lord enver gortash #enver gortash #ketheric thorm #orin the red #it's about the choice and the illusion of it #orin never had the illusion of choice #you don't have that being raised as a child of bhaal in a temple of bhaal #ketheric could not live with the choices he was given and so he broke the rules #gortash had choices but his vision was impaired by his life's experiences #he has a tunnel vision #someone once said gortash would def try to otherthrow bane if the control over the absolute was gained and i totes agree with it #and in the whole 'hubris' way too #There's nothing too high for him to climb #no heights he would not try to reach #no head he would not step on to climb #is it a tragedy of his messed up childhood? yeah. is he content with it? Yeah #me forcibly dragging enver from the top bc I love him: No. No power for you. get tadpoled. get abandoned by bane.#idk get a child what will lock you into a prison of caring for someone else. You will get Better No Matter How Much You Struggle #Enver Gortash is such a good example of Doing The Worst Choices for His Own Well Being #And actively destroying everything by that #like he can't outrun being human he can't outrun having feeling and needing others and being lonely #But gods does he try does this stupid fucker try

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whumpshaped · 7 months

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Been thinking about a mock execution followed by a mock resurrection in a cult setting. Like… Whumpee watched their best friend be ‘killed’ and now the cult demands all this stuff for the ‘ritual’ to bring them back and by the end Whumpee is so brainwashed they’ll play the role of being mock executed to help bring people into the cult. Deception isn’t that big a deal if it’s saving someone’s soul, and they should know- they’ve turned out fine

- @another-whump-sideblog

ok i realise this is different from the prompt because whumpee doesnt actually know theyre participating in deception..... but i think its still pretty good

tw cult setting, religious whump, murder, manipulation, conditioning, noncon drugging

There was nothing they could do. They couldn't stand up and rush over to the priest, they couldn't get their friend off the altar, they couldn't even move. They were surrounded by all their other friends and loved ones who didn't move a muscle either, didn't even bat an eye as the priest raised the ritual knife. If they had stood up and opposed this madness, they would've been shunned.

So they stayed put and watched. They gripped the edge of their seat and tried to blink away their tears, hoping that at the end of all this chanting the priest would do something symbolic instead of literally stabbing their best friend. Maybe it was a test of faith. Maybe if they stayed put, the priest would reward them by not murdering their friend.

When the knife came down, Whumpee almost saw it in slow motion. Their eyes were helplessly locked on the scene as the priest buried the knife hilt-deep inside their friend's abdomen, but they couldn't make a single sound of protest. They couldn't believe it. It just wasn't real. It couldn't be.

They watched as their friend's head lolled to the side, glassy eyes staring into their very soul. They watched as the body went limp and was carried away, and they stayed in their seat, only moving to kneel for prayer once everyone else did so as well.

Their friend was gone. What were they even praying for?

"Whumpee."

They turned towards the source of the voice, finding themself staring at the priest. The church was empty. They were still kneeling. They must've zoned out.

"I'm sorry, I... I'll leave. Sorry. I didn't realise–"

"I would like to talk to you, actually. I know you must be experiencing a lot of emotions regarding today's events."

"I... I have questions."

The priest smiled and extended a hand. "Come. I'll answer them all to the best of my abilities."

"They said they would be resurrected," Whumpee said quietly. "I thought... I thought it was a metaphor. I didn't know... I'm sorry, I'm still so new to all of this, I don't understand how– how they could give their life so willingly– they said they'd seen others be resurrected, and they trusted me, and I just... I don't know what they trusted me with."

"Their life, of course."

Whumpee's eyes widened. "But– was I supposed to stop it? They said not to stop it! They said to trust in you like they trusted in me! And I did, I didn't stop it–"

"Calm down, child. Allow me to explain the process behind the sacrifice."

Whumpee took a shaky breath and tried to settle down. They wiped the tears from their eyes and gestured for the priest to go on, putting on their best listening face.

"People volunteer to become sacrificial lambs for those closest to them. Your friend volunteered their life to strengthen your faith, and they trust that you won't run away from the trial. Because if your faith is strong enough, you can bring them back."

"Bring them back..?"

"Of course. They weren't lying about having seen many resurrections. They have even resurrected a friend before themself. They were just as shaken as you are now, but they decided to trust in God, strengthen their faith, and go through with the ritual."

Whumpee felt like they were being lied to. Who could even bring back someone from the dead? If anyone, it certainly wasn't them. But if their friend had also done it... and if they were now counting on them... "I've never seen any resurrections before," they said miserably. "It sounds..."

"Impossible?" Whumpee slowly nodded, and the priest chuckled. "Yes, it does. But that is part of the trial. You see, those who have never gone through resurrecting a friend or loved one aren't allowed to participate in sacrificial sermons, unless it's their very own — which is what you've just taken part in. Once you've seen something happen in front of your very eyes, it's quite easy to believe it could happen again. But believing that even something that sounds entirely impossible, something you have never witnessed before could happen because of your trust and devotion? That is true faith."

True faith... But how were they supposed to believe something so outrageous? "I, I'm not sure I can do that," they stammered. They didn't even attempt to hold back their tears this time. "My friend– my friend trusted me this much? Why? Why, when I can't– I can't imagine how one could believe in such a thing! I wasn't ready! They gave their life for someone like me, and I'm not even– I'm not even faithful enough to, to bring them back!"

"They trusted you because they believed you were ready." The priest reached out and gently took their hand in their own. "They came to consult me about it, and I told them that I shared their sentiment."

"Why would you–"

"Because you are, child. You are ready. And I can help you grow your faith in the coming three days before the resurrection ceremony. I can help you trust. And I will, if you ask me to." They paused for a moment, their determined expression softening into something more understanding. "You can also choose to walk away from the trial, of course. Nobody can stop you. I know your friend would never hold it against you."

"How can you even say that?" they sobbed. "You murdered my friend, and now you're saying I have a chance to undo it, and– and that I can walk away? Of course I can't. I can't. I can't let them die if there's another way!"

"I assumed you would say that. And your friend did too."

Whumpee barely slept in those three days. They were advised to fast, read the holy texts, and pray. Nothing else mattered. They told themself over and over that everything was possible for God, that the people who said they'd already witnessed several resurrections weren't lying, that if they believed hard enough their friend would come back and hug them and tell them they'd done well.

On the day of the ceremony, Whumpee was sweating bullets. They were terrified that their faith hadn't grown enough to bring a person back to life. As they walked up to the altar with their dead friend on top of it, they thought they might pass out.

"Let us pray," the priest said loudly, and Whumpee heard the sound of a hundred people all get onto their knees. They lowered themself to the floor as well, clasping their hands together with the desperation of someone who was truly suffering. "Lord, examine the heart of Your humble servant closely. Reward their faith if it pleases You, and give them the gift of life and love. Show them that with faith, everything is possible."

The crowd murmured the word 'amen', and Whumpee took a deep breath. "Amen."

Days without food had weakened their body, and they felt lightheaded as they rose to their feet again. They looked down at their dead friend, then up at the priest and the religious symbols on the wall behind them. In that moment, a wave of complete and utter peace washed over them. They knew that everyone in the room trusted the same God as them, and that they had all seen this happen before. Nothing was impossible.

"I believe," they whispered, and the priest took their hand and gently guided it to their friend's chest.

"Let it happen according to your faith."

Ba-dum.

Whumpee broke down in tears as soon as they felt it, dropping right back to their knees while muttering words of gratutude and worship. Their faith had been enough. Their friend was alive! Their friend was alive again, because they had trusted and believed!

"Praise be," they choked out, and the priest laughed.

"Praise be!" they repeated joyfully, and the people behind them enthusiastically joined in.

"I can't believe I'm about to spring this on my friend," Whumpee said with a grin. "Like you did to me! That was the scariest day of my entire life, and I'm about to do it to someone else..."

"But it was followed by the best day of your life, wasn't it?" Their friend was cheery as ever, the scar on their stomach carefully covered up by several layers of clothes. "Your faith would not be as stable as it is if I hadn't done that! And now you get to help your friend like I helped you."

"You're right. Besides, I'm sure they'll do amazingly." Their smile faltered, and they stopped walking. "Were you scared? Before the big day?"

Their friend turned around to be able to look them in the eyes, but there was nothing on their face that indicated that this question was a bad one. They looked compassionate. "Yes, I was. Not because I thought you wouldn't pass the trial, just... I knew it would hurt."

"Does it hurt a lot?"

Their friend nodded a little, and absentmindedly raised a hand to their stomach. "It's over quite quickly, though. Quicker than I'd assumed."

Whumpee nodded as well, but then quickly went back to their joyful attitude from before. "Well, no need to be sad about it! It's for a good cause, and I'm happy to be a part of it!"

Their friend smiled back. "Yes. It's quite the thrilling experience."

The priest was quite pleased when Whumpee sought them out to talk about the sacrifice. They were eager to continue the cycle, which was always a good sign. It meant that they didn't suspect a thing.

They talked to Whumpee for a good while, answering all the questions they had with utter nonsense they made up on the spot. There was no truth to any of it, really, but all the idiots in the group ate it up. The real preparation started once Whumpee was out of the room.

They prepared a portion of their special drug cocktail, the one they used to coat the ritual knife. It had some anaesthetics in it to dull the pain, and of course something that would cause the subject to black out quite quickly. It gave the very convincing impression of seeing somebody die on the altar.

They prepared all the IVs and the surgical equipment, making sure everything was clean and in order. They couldn't have the sacrifice actually die, after all. No, they had to be kept in a limbo for three days, not dead but not awake either. The only time the heart needed to be stopped was right before the ceremony, in case someone got overwhelmed and decided to check for a pulse before they gave the go-ahead.

The priest pulled out one of the drawers, grimacing when they realised they would need to cook up a new batch of the other drug as well, the one they used to restart circulation. It was always remarkably easy to inject the sacrifice while all the sheep had their heads bowed in prayer. No one ever looked. No one ever noticed.

For all they knew, they were witnessing one resurrection after the other.

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em

#asks #another-whump-sideblog #whump #whump drabble #cult setting #religious whump #murder #manipulation #conditioning #noncon drugging

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pawsthec · 2 years

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Sarcastic maid Pt2

The daughters being little shits as usual.

Cassandra about to slice a maid's face with her sickle: hehe

Maid: I swear to Mother Miranda's cult if you don't step away from her I will kick your ass out into the Romanian winter faster than your mother can down a bottle of wine

Cassandra: You're not the boss of me

Maid: No but the castle's alcoholic is and she wants the maids alive and healthy until she can replace the dead ones after last night's fight

Cassandra: bitch

Maid: oh I'm sorry, do I remind of your uncles failed experiments? No? Then leave before your mother cracks the tile with her shoes chasing after your sorry ass

Cassandra: alright, geez. No need for death threats

....…………......…………..…….….….….…….......…...........

Daniela sneaking around in the dark like a dollar store batman: *sneak*

Maid: *unimpressed as she's trying to peacefully drink her tea in the kitchen* you know I can see your flies right?

Daniela: *hisses as candlelight is blasted in her eyes* what are you doing up after curfew!?

Maid: I could ask you the same question little miss ninja. I won't because I can see the arm in your hands but I also want to know why you're sneaking

Daniela: mother said I wasn't allowed any more late night snacks after the Irma incident

Maid: ah, I see. Well, goodnight

Daniela: you aren't going to tell mother?

Maid: I don't want to lose both my job and my life for staying up three hours past curfew and name calling. I'm already on thin ice after the Cassie thing

Daniela: Cassie thing?

Maid: it's better if you don't know. Besides, I'm willing to do a I won't tell if you don't tell kind of thing

Daniela: *holds out arm that isn't hers for a handshake*

Maid: no, I will not shake hands with Sheila's detached arm. I can tell because her bracelet is still on there

Daniela: *cackles as she zooms off*

......................................................…………………...….

Bela: *Reading in the library*

Maid: *Ignores Bela as she goes to dust the shelves*

Bela after a few minutes: can you be quieter, I want complete silence as I read

Maid: yeah, and I want my parents back but we don't all get what we want, do we?

Bela: *utter disbelief* what?

Maid: you have ears, I know you heard me

Bela: I'm just gonna *flies off*

.......................................................………………………

Alcina: *frantically looking for the maid*

Maid: *peacefully walking in the gardens*

Alcina: *power walks*

Maid: *jogs*

Alcina: *power walks faster*

Maid: *starts running*

Alcina: *catches up to them and picks them up like a child*

Maid: hey Alci, how's your near immortal life been recently?

Alcina: my daughters are now traumatised

Maid: I wonder who did that? Mother Miranda's been looking a bit suspicious recently

Alcina: (maids name), you are going to hell

Maid: and you're not?

Alcina: *tosses her over her shoulder and starts walking off with them as the ground keepers watch with concern for the maid*

Maid: is this really necessary?

Alcina: you threatened to kill my caring Cassandra, called my darling Daniela an awful name and then scared my beautiful Bela by mentioning your parents are dead without an ounce of grief

Maid: it's not my fault they're dead

Alcina: *puts her down in the main hall* are you feeling alright?

Maid: I'm fine

Alcina: right, well, go and sit in your room until dinner and think about what you said

Maid: you sound like my mother

Alcina: I am your boss, I control your paycheck, now go before I change my mind and our you on dungeon duty

Maid: fine, I'll go and stew in my non existant misery

Alcina: make it quick, I have a meeting to attend

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x female reader #alcina x y/n #alcina demitriscu #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 fanfiction #re village #re8 meme #re8 village #re8 dimitrescu #x reader #resident evil #re8 #re8 shitpost #re8 x reader

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tetsunabouquet · 1 month

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House Of Anubis: How the OG Dutch/Belgium show was butchered in its adaptation by Nickelodeon Part 1: Mick & Fabian

Given ATLA and Percy Jackson have gotten butchered again, I have decided to finally open my mouth about my favorite children's tv show: Het Huis Anubis. I am making this in several parts, because god this show was done dirty by Nickelodeon- especially the English adaptation. Today, we will go over exhibit A, Mick and Fabian and how they as individuals were butchered and their bromance was scrapped - all due to Nickelodeon's homophobia because OG Fabian's actor, Lucien van Geffen, came out as a gay man after the show ended. 1. Let's start with the most obvious thing: the boys appearance. Fabian is way cuter and way less nerdy looking in the English adaptation. The dude became Prom King for crying out loud. In the OG, whilst Fabian was cute, he was so in an overtly nerdy way and the idea of him becoming Prom King at all would have been an obvious prank. Mick was the dumb jock, the pretty boy of the cast who got played by a model. As a bisexual, this was the show that would get me bi-panicking because of Mick and Nienke (Nina in the English adaptation). 2. The aforementioned stereotyping was actually part of what made the bromance work. Because stereotypes are easier to understand for younger children and their contrasting stereotypes were written in such a beautiful way as they saw each other's value. Because in the OG, Mick has a lot of things going for him and he has a heart of gold but he has a dream he cannot accomplish being the dumb pretty boy he is but Fabian can. Because in the OG, Mick has a blind younger sister that he would like to cure more then anything but knows he's too dumb for medicine school unlike Fabian. He also knows Fabian is more courageous then he is and sees him as someone with lots of valuable traits whereas Fabian values Mick's loyalty and good, friendly nature as one of the show's primary himbo's. Their stereotypes allowed kids to understand each stereotype came with valuable traits. It's okay if you're a nerd or a jock. 3. MICK NEVER LEFT. Mick always remained the ignorant himbo walking around the house as his friends were busy dealing with cults. He was the breath of fresh air that brought normalcy throughout the show with his romance drama. Though he was ignorant of what they were doing, it's not like Mick was 100% oblivious throughout the entire show. For crying out loud Fabian had to fake his death at one point, with no one knowing he was still alive. Who was the one Fabian went to so he could say he was still alive? Mick. Really, a secret handshake is in no way on the same level as only telling your best friend you are still alive. 4. Which brings me to another character that never left: Nienke! Unlike her English counterpart Nina, Nienke remained as the leader of the Sibuna gang throughout the show with Fabian being the healthy kind of boyfriend who never felt like he had to take leadership away from her or anything. I swear in regards to Fabian in the English adaptation, they tried to hard to make a more alpha male version of Fabian. He's hotter, he gets more girls, he gets to be the leader and more. There is literal evidence they had toxic masculinity in mind: its Fabian falling to the sin of Pride in the show. Whilst the English adaptation was only faithful to the first season, the 7 deadly sins do show up in the first Anubis movie where Nienke is kidnapped by the antagonist. OG Fabian is literally the first person to win from all 7 deadly sins with the sin he ALMOST succumbs to being wrath as his friends and Nienke were about to die. Fabian was the virtuous knight in that movie and they actively made him more prideful in the English adaptation. Why would they change his relationship with Nienke and things like this, if it wasn't to make Fabian seem more masculine and whatnot because Lucien being gay emasculates Fabian in the eyes of Nickelodeon. For fuck's sake, Lucien was literally chosing to stay in the closet during the show because the ship was HUGE. He didn't wanted to break all of the little children's hearts by saying he was gay. Lucien was gracious 100%!

youtube

#tetsutalk #house of anubis #het huis anubis #anubis #fabian rutter #fabian ruitenburg #mick campbell #mick zeelenberg #mickbian #nina martin #nienke martins #nickelodeon #homophobia #Lucien van Geffen #Youtube #Mick's eulogy and how he makes Fabian promise not to go away ever again is just-

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mythicamagic · 1 month

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May I ask why you like Sukuna so much? Don't get me wrong, I love him too, he reminds me of Yang from Piofiore, but I thought you would be more attracted to Gojo or Geto? 🤭

Thank you for the excuse to yap, anon! Talking about my biases is one of my favourite things to do.

I guess my answer can be summed up with three points:

Sukuna is hot - I like his tattoos and his true form satisfies my monster romance cravings

Sukuna is charismatic

Intelligent villains make brain go brrr.

To elaborate, when JJK first came out I did simp a bit for Gojo because of his eyes and white hair. It wasn't really anything other than shallow - hey, he's pretty.

(I've never been a Geto girlie, I respect those who are, but I haven't felt anything toward him other than sympathy for his breakdown or apathy toward him becoming a cult leader type. He's aight.)

When Sukuna was first revealed I found him entertaining but wrote him off as purely insane. Fun to watch but nothing interesting. This changed in episode 4.

That episode showed his charisma tbh. An insane villain is only fun to watch passively, that or they become annoying. A truly personable villain is one that lives comfortably by enjoying what they want to do but also demonstrating intelligence and cunning. Guys like Sukuna and Yang are my favourite type of villain because they're so incredibly selfish they seek to assuage their boredom via entertainment. They thrive in violence that isn't targeted or hateful, just pure enjoyment. Putting aside the murder part- as someone who is incredibly meek and anxious irl, those characters appeal to me because they thrive unapologetically. Their ugliness is embraced and celebrated.

From a purely simping standpoint- Someone like Nanami is the greenest flag you've ever seen. That man would take care of you and love you. 10/10 you should marry, he's perfect. However, for someone like me, that perfection would make my imperfections feel worse.

Characters like Sukuna basically remove that because they're reveling in their own fun. I think to really enjoy them is to remove your own ego from the equation in a way- because these men will not cater to you emotionally. Yang is there for pleasure, Sukuna is there for entertainment, ect.

However in this way - you can kind of find vindication through them too. Liliana grew into herself more by becoming Yangs woman. She lost her freedom but gained it in other ways by experiencing sexual liberation and the darker aspects of the world- living in it and adapting. I figure life with Sukuna would be like that too in some AU where he wouldn’t automatically kill you.

I find Sukuna the most interesting character in JJK because he's centered and intelligent even as he revels in chaotic destruction. He's well read and has a history that gives him a tangible presence. He's strong but playful, cruel but absent of hatred for his opponents in a way that feels almost respectful even as they're fighting to the death (with the exception of Itadori).

A lot of what he is ticks my boxes. I expect Scar from Wuthering Waves will also scratch my itch for this type of villain too once we know more about him.

Er so yeah...take your pick anon haha. Simple answer: Sukuna is a cool villain, and I like to watch him have fun (not excusing anything he does but I trust your media literacy enough to understand that)

Complicated answer for simping: something, something, female empowerment fantasy through being allowed to be the worst version of yourself with a villain, thus achieving liberation from societal constraints.

#sukuna #jjk #ryomen sukuna #asks #anon #yang piofiore

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gamerbearmira · 1 month

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More resident Evil stuff!

Antonio 1000% tries to follow Mirable everywhere she goes! And as much as Mirable would love to bring him to the meeting she doesn't want to expose him to Miranda anymore than she has too she's the most protective of Antonio because of his age(it also helps that his adorable and is the sweetest little boy ever) he does follow her everywhere in the house and if she's taking a trip to the village or the orphanage he joins her 9 times out of 10. The only time his not allowed to follow her is when shes going down to her lab in the house or when she's going to a religious service in town.

Of course I have Bruno! in my universe a little bit after Mirabel went missing he came out of the walls to try and help find her he helped with the search and after 4 months when they called off the search because it was clear she wasn't in the area he kept trying to have visions but he just kept seeing the black mold and he couldn't make sense of it. He did keep the original vision hidden in fact before he came back he snuck into his old room and found it and completely destroyed his old vision so no one would know(he was still scared of Alma's reaction.) he also refused to tell what was in the old vision that made him leave.

Mirable tries to keep her family away from the religious aspect of the village she's uncomfortable with the fact that she's worshiped and the whole cult that is the village. Of course the family does find out and they're all very uncomfortable with the idea of Mirable being worshiped and the fact that they are viewed as higher beings by the townsfolk because of the relationship they have with Mirable.

Miranda isn't always punishing Mirable, in fact Maribel out of all of the Lords gets the least amount of punishments the difference is that Mirabel's punishments in comparison to the other Lords are much more severe because more is expected out of her. Miranda actually often tries to force weird little dinners/lunches or tea parties onto Mirabel as well as getting her the odd gift of needles,instruments,paints/art supplies and oddly enough toys still, she views mirabel as younger than she is. Mirable gives the toys to the orphanage and then later Antonio after cleaning them (they sat in a bucket of disinfected for days almost a week then were scrub down).

I haven't actually thought about where Miranda made Mirable experiment on each family member and how that would physically affect them. All I know is that they wouldn't have too many mutations because the miracle protects them from it but in return for that their powers act pretty wonky like sometimes they'll work sometimes they won't and it's kind of up in the air when they do and when they don't. I think she might have made Mirable experiment on dolores's ears and maybe her mother's hands but everyone else I'm not entirely sure. I would actually like your opinion on that matter I do like the idea of Antonio and his eye.

Alcina has invited Mirable and her entire family to the castle for visits, let's just say it was very tense the first time that they actually did go to visit. The sisters were glaring at all of the family the entire time and being pretty passive aggressive/borderline threatening with the family and kinda possessive of Mirable. Alcina was being nicer in comparison she was also glaring though but not at the entire family just at Julieta she was being less passive aggressive but still passive aggressive but she wasn't being borderline threatening and was acting less possessive of Mirabel then the girls were though that was because she was restraining herself. They all were of course constantly calling the men in the family "man things" though they were a little bit nicer than they would have normally been and said that "they didn't seem to be as pest like most men".

MORE RESIDENT EVIL💪💪

Glad Antonio follows Mirabel around, and it’s understandable why she wouldn’t bring him to meetings. Even for how much he begs, she still says no. She’s just not willing to take that risk 😭 also Mirabel keeping her family away from all that worshipping stuff is. So true because Miranda is CRAZY and honestly the service are probably really weird, knowing Resident Evil 😭

ALSO BRUNOOOOO LETS GOOOO 🌚🌚 him coming back to look for her, nice to see he cares so much <333 I feel bad that he couldn’t find her with the vision, I mean yeah, it was hinting her location, but like. He don’t know what the black mold is or where it is 🤠 the fact that he tried though is what counts.

Even if Miranda doesn’t punish her. If THAT is tamed, I feel bad and wonder what the others go through (besides what’s seen in the of game). Her viewing Mirabel as younger than she really is terrible like dawg she is??? 15. 16. Wrap it up 💀💀 but at least the gifts go to some use (after some through cleaning). And Alcina and her daughters need to take it down a notch 🌚 I understand that they are attached to her, but I feel like they haven’t realized they haven’t noticed that Mirabel prefers her family, even if she still does like them to some extent. Rip to the guys of the family 🧌 though I always found it funny with Lady D and her daughters called Ethan "man-thing". Idk why 💀

AS FOR THE EXPERIMENTS UHHHHH. Ok I'll try but feel free to switch it up, these are just suggestions/ideas <333

Ok so obviously Antonio was on his eye. Originally it was his mouth, but the black mold spread to his eye, rendering it essentially useless. Camilo, it really didn't affect him appearance wise, but by far, his gift is ALL out of wack, the worst of the family. He cannot control it, and if he tries to use it, he just?? Turns into something not very pleasant to look at. Kinda painful for him as well; the only thing I'd say he could turn into, ironically, is a Lycan, anything human will just. Look like a balck mold vicitim 👺 Dolores' ears kinda always have this ringing sound, and while she can still hear pretty far, it's just overall not a pleasant experience.

Isabela, quite literally, has vines wrapping around her. Like they are digging into her skin, and she can adjust them and they can move, but they never go away. Luisa's isn't as bad, but the nerves in her arm were taken over by the black mold, and she's kinda in constant pain, so she doesn't use her gift nearly as often; in her arms, you can see where the black mold took over her nerves 😭😭

Julieta's hands were experimented on; told by Miranda to Mirabel to do specifically. She wanted to fugure out if her gift could be taken, and if it could be used to revive people. Well, Julieta had a really BAD reaction to the mold, really bad, and her hands started to burn. They, on a day to day basis, will spontaneously combust at any given point, except when she's asleep. Her hands always look burned, and no matter how much of her own food she eats, it never really goes away. Pepa has a constant cloud, even when she's happy. It's not always thundering, so she never knows when lightning will strike; 9 times out 10, it'll strike her, so she has a lot of lightning scars, and the black mold prevents her from dying; her hair has started to turn white. Bruno's eyes were experimented on, and now he's kinda in this perpetual state of seeing the future (and sometimes the past??? Maybe). His eyes are always glowing and he gets bad migraines. His vision is actually hindered a bit and everything he sees has a green hue around it 🗿

Miranda didn't care too much about the husbands because they didn't have a gift, but you know. Agustín got punished because he was yelling and trying to argue with Miranda; he was experimented on, but it didn't really effect him appearance wise. Felíx actually had some reaction to the mold, but mentally it made him really jumpy, and he's just not as happy as he used to be, though he does try to be optimistic, and is still just as protective.

Alma, I'm actually not sure??? Miranda probably doesn't like her very much, Alma is always picking fights, verbally anyway, and Alma will often be caught just glaring at her. She was experimented on but. Idk, maybe on Miranda and Mirabel know how it truly affected her, physically. Unless you or someone else has an idea LMAOOO

I LOVE THIS AU AND I LOVE RESIDENT EVIL❗❗❗🙏🙏 probably gonna do art of whatever the next ask is (if you have one)

Also. If you have any writing ideas I'd totally love to write a snippet or something <33

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