#hope these tags r sufficient
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Had to draw them 🥰 absolutely whipped over zoro’s fit
#one piece#zolu#luffy#zoro#one piece chapter 1074#op chapter 1074#op manga spoilers#egghead arc#hope these tags r sufficient#my art
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You are a patient saint for this dumbass. Here's this fuckery
TW: severe non-con, kidnapping, mentions of torture
A Month and the After [part 1]
1
This fucking life. Laura thought that after werewolves and the shaky start to their relationship that things for her and Travis would be good. Sure they had bumps but they were the bumps that people dealt with in everyday life with a few from past experiences thrown in. Things that they could get through. This didn’t feel like one of those bumps.
During the planning and packing for a road trip, they seemed to miss the notice of some deranged freaks that went about kidnapping, assaulting, and killing people.
Their car breaks down, but thankfully at a gas station, but not so thankfully in the middle of the night. After the whole thing at Hackett's Quarry and how she inadvertently got Max infected and the both of them imprisoned she thought she would have learned to be a more cautious bleeding heart. But across the street in the dark of a ditch, the weeping and please of a stranger breaks past her protective walls.
She runs over to offer assistance and is immediately ambushed and knocked unconscious, the calls were playing from a recording. When Travis comes out he sees her just as she’s being hoisted onto one of the two people's shoulders. A big fucker, pushing the deceased Bobby Hackett into second standing in the scope of size. He lets her slip into his partner's arms and rushes his full tank of a body towards Travis, subduing Travis just as easily.
2
When they awake it was in a basement. A bright light reveals grungy walls and a nearly barren space. They are chained to the wall and floor. There is clattering to the right of them where the big man is rifling through some things. A door opens and from down the stairs come a pert, lithe figured woman. She's clearly a few inches short than Laura, with dark brown hair, bewitching green eyes, and a threateningly playful smile.
"Jake!" She squeaks, "Why didn't you tell me they were awake?"
Jake looks from what he was doing over to the three. At the woman, to Laura and Travis then back to the woman and shrugs, simply going back to his business.
"Ugh." The woman huffs. "That brother of mine. Well, it's nice to meet you, Laura, and Travis."
"Our licenses." Laura states not bothering with the "how do you know" game.
"And the news!" She says in a sing-song voice. "That whole tragedy at Hackett's Quarry. A corrupt sheriff, ex-sheriff. And a serial killer survivor." Travis and Laura glare daggers at her. "Ugh, it's just one of those amazing stories of a century AND you two are a couple now?"
Neither Travis nor Laura say anything but the question of how she knows must have still been clear on their faces.
"Or don't act so shocked, we went through your things obviously." She kneels down. "That frisky lingerie, the toys, the rope."
She gets closer to Travis.
"No condoms though. Does our little cop shoot blanks?" She roughly grabs his crotch earning her double glares that she could give less of a shit about.
She doesn't let go. Instead, she keeps groping, feeling him through the fabric. She undoes his pants and boxer briefs for a better look.
"Tsk. Almost seems heartbreaking for this...well, I can't say little now can I?"
She snickers and still she doesn't leave Travis. Instead, she works his cock out stroking, kissing, and licking as Travis grows hard. He feels so disgusted with himself. He knows it's not his fault, he knows his body is just reacting to natural touch, but still. He closes his eyes.
"Get your hands off of him," Laura demands with a yell!
The woman merely sank her mouth all the way to Travis's base, causing him to involuntarily jerk. She looks at Laura maliciously and mischievously through her lashes as she took Travis down her throat over and over.
Travis is making sounds of pain, displeasure and unfortunately pleasure. With wet pop and far too much saliva the woman lifts herself from Travis and stands.
“You know I wouldn’t normally fuck an old guy or a cop or in this case both.” She works her skirt and panties off and unbuttons her blouse some. “But you’re not that bad and clearly still in good health so I’ll make an exception.”
“Get the fuck away.” Travis spits.
The woman slapps him.
“That’s no way to talk to a partner.” She glances briefly to Laura. “Do you talk to her like that?”
Travis does speak. He grits his teeth as she sinks down onto his length and starts to ride him. She moans as she does. Loud, obnoxious and exaggerated just to piss them off. She changes her position some leaning back to rest her hands behind her on Travis’ legs. Unfortunately that does something and Travis’ hips snap upward meeting her as she was descending.
“Oh! That’s it!” She’s too pleased. “Get into the fun of it.”
She rides him harder and faster and despite his best efforts Travis’ body keeps betraying him, thrusting upwards to meet the crazed woman. He doesn’t want to look at her and he didn’t want to see what Jake was doing so he reluctantly looks over to Laura. Laura who’s red with rage staring as if she were willing the woman’s head to explode, before making eye contact with him.
He feels sick at betraying her, at how she looks at him with pity and remorse for not being able to help him.
With a groan the woman stands up and takes something from around her neck. A key which she uses to unlock Travis from the wall.
“Don’t think about anything, you know how fast and hard my brother can hit.” She said, Jake looks over having finished with whatever he was doing and watches intently.
She sits down and beckons for Travis.
“What?” He asks, trying to resist the temptation to charge the woman for the key despite the large looming presence in the room.
“I didn’t cum, you didn’t cum.” She shakes her head at Travis like he’s a fool. “We’re not done, so get over here and fuck me.”
Travis and Laura grimace. The woman’s face falls into a snarl.
“Fuck me. Or Jake will show little miss how it feels for a big young man to take her.”
Travis and Laura bristle and blanch. Indeed Jake has come closer and is disgustingly eyeing Laura.
“Don’t touch her.” Travis goes over to the woman.
She lays on her back while Travis gets on his hands and knees above her.
“Kiss me.” She says, earning her a disgusted glare.
She glares back. Travis exhales and complies, giving her a kiss on the lips. She strikes him strongly across the face.
“You know damn fucking well that’s not what I wanted.” She hisses.
Travis pushes his anger down and goes to kiss her again, when the woman puts her hand over his mouth.
“What?” She yells and she laughs.
“I don’t want a basic kiss. I want you to kiss me like you kiss her.” She gestures with her chin over to Laura. “And I want to you to fuck me like you would her. Rough, I’m assuming, but also like you love me like you do her.”
“You demented bitch!” Laura shouts.
Travis holds his tongue. He dare not even try to speak or else he’d probably rip the bitches throat out with his teeth. He complies to the demands. He looks over the to Laura with apologetic eyes.
He has to sacrifice his memories with Laura to even treat this woman a fraction as how he would with Laura. He sacrifices the kisses they shared on the road. He focused on the memories of Laura’s lips, this woman bites too much her kisses feel more like a violent competition.
It was all wrong. Trying to layer Laura's moans and whimpers over the shrills and caws. The sweet scent of her lotion and sweat over the suffocating perfume. And yet he does, he has to. His stomach falls as he feels his orgasm build. Hates even more that it was evident in the way he started to slightly thrust harder and faster.
“Say my name.”
“What!”
“Say my name like you say hers. Say it loud. It’s Tara. Scream my fucking name.”
“T-” he tries
“T-”
He pauses to work the name up his throat and off his tongue. He has to say it like he would Laura’s.
“L-Tara.” Manages though the method is odd. “L-Tara.”
If she notices Tara doesn’t say anything and just keeps moaning. Eventually Travis is able to drop the L from her name and manages to make himself hold the woman, Tara, closer as he would Laura.
Laura’s watching with tears on the cusp of falling. Jake is watching evidence of him getting turned on straining against his pants. Travis is uttering Tara’s name, he’s screaming in his head, and he hates how disgusting his body is. By the time Tara speaks again he already knows how to answer and play his part.
“How good do I feel?” She asks, clawing at his shoulders.
‘You don’t’
“You feel so fucking good.” He chokes out. “So right for me.”
Tara bares a wicked grin and looks at Laura.
“Better than hers?”
‘Never.’
“So much better.” He says kissing her breast then kissing her.
Travis and Laura keep an eye on Jake who comes close rubbing himself through his pants. They both can’t stomach how casually Jake is watching his sister be fucked.
Travis starts to loose the pace of his thrusts. He goes to pull out when Tara’s legs wrap around his waist. He wants to stop thrusting, his body doesn’t, he unquestionably should, but he knows he shouldn’t.
“Why?”
“Because maybe it isn’t you.” Tara mocks with a sacchirne grin. “Maybe she’s the reason you don’t have kids.”
‘She’s not. I’m not. Shut up!’
“So, how about we make a baby happen.”
That makes Travis stop dead. He’s right the edge, he’s in her, but he doesn’t cum. What she just said resounds through him and even his body wouldn’t dare to think of giving this woman a child. His mind took him out of existence for a moment and returned so he could fight the bile threatening to come up.
Tara pulls her legs to signal to him to get back to moving. He only manages to do so on the third pull of her legs that was accompanied with a growl. He gets himself back to pace quickly. He was already on edge, but he needs to hold on just for her to finish first.
And thankfully she does. A loudspeaker keen as she arches her back, pulls him close and shudders around him. The only satisfaction Travis feels when filling her is that the act is finally over.
Then Jake is loomed over Laura.
“Don’t you think about fucking touching me.” Laura screams and kicks, landing blows that Jake doesn’t seem to care about.
Travis pulls out of Tara roughly and only spares a second of thought to pull up his pants. They fell regardless as he tackles Jake. For his effort Travis is grabbed and slammed into the wall, with a nasty smack. Travis recovers enough that he positioned himself between Jake and Laura.
Jake’s bear sized hand clenchd Travis shoulder and throws him back crashing near his sister. Travis recovered despite his pants and the shake up of being flung. He getst between Jake and Laura again.
“Don’t fucking youch her! You said you wouldn’t!” He yells from a bruised face.
“Nooooooo.” Tara stands fixing her self up. “I said he wouldn’t touch her…if you didn’t fuck me. I can’t help if he gets horny and wants to have his own fun.”
“Don’t touch her.”
Jake rolls his eyes while Tara stares at the couple thinking about something. She connects with Laura’s glare and a sickly smile grows across her lips.
“Jake.” Tara says causing her brother to stop his attempt of throwing Travis away again.
“Don’t touch her.”
Jake looks confused as a big brother would, Travis and Laura where confused in terror.
“Why not?” Jake asks.
“Cause he wants to be the knight in shining armor. The big old goody cop trying to make up for his sins. So let him. It’ll be more fun if the bitch watch her lover suffer for her safety.”
“Fuck you.” Laura spits.
“Yeah we’ll be fucking him. We haven’t had a toy in a while and we’ve never shared one.”
Laura and Travis grimace. Tara pulls Travis’ pants around his ankle and playfully gives him a slap on the ass.
“Leave him alone.” Laura yells.
Instead Jake spreads Travis’ legs more, fondles his ass, holds Travis’ hip in place and his own cock in his hand.
There’s enough time for Travis and Laura to fully realize that Travis is positioned right above her. Jake shoves in ripping a howl of pain from Travis. Laura screams as well, a cry of fury. Travis braces himself against the wall as Jake starts a slow pace with brutal throasts.
Tears fall from Travis’ face and he doesn’t know what to do. He closes his eyes, but it just makes the burning sensation heightened more than it needs to be. He’s tryies to push the feeling away and just leave his body a shell, but then he remembers, when he never should have forgotten in the first place. He’s doing this for Laura and leaving her, even mentally to this hell would be unforgiveable. He peaks down to her and hates it. He fpathetic with the tears falling from him onto her and she looked at him with nothing but worry and sorrow.
Laura has grown to know Travis enough to recognize the story his face was telling. She watches him flash through the various states. She watches Travis’ face to help in someone way, not leaving him to this alone.
Jake groans and pulls Travis flush to him. Once again Travis feels like throwing up. Jake pulls out looking sickly smug at what he’s done. Semen and blood leaks out of Travis. On shaky legs he manages to bend down pull his pants up, falls to his knees and rests on his side on the hard floor.
Jake re-secures Travis’ wrists to the chains. Jake and Tara have matching smirks that Laura wishes she could carve off their faces.
“Well it’s late so we’ll be back in the morning to take care of you more.” Tara follows her brother up the stairs. “We’re gracious hosts really.”
The core light is turned off leaving three dim bulbs to illuminate everything. Laura looks to Travis whose curled in on himself.
“Travis?” She doesn’t know why she whispers.
It was obvious he wasn’t okay.
“I’m fine.” He answers,
“No you’re not.”
Travis doesn’t say anything.
“We need to get out of here. I can’t let them hurt you anymore.”
“Whether we get out or not, I won’t let them hurt you.” Travis says. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
“Shh Travis.” Laura’s happy that there’s enough length to the chains that she can give Travis a comforting pat from where he lays, even if only on his leg.
3
The routine is a perversion of Travis’ when he had her and Max imprisoned. She was suddenly so appreciative of it.
They were fed, small portions. Sometimes allowed to actually eat or it was humiliatingly shoved in their faces. They were given showers, but always together. It was the one moment they could be intimate with one another in the smallest way. Laura and Travis didn’t know where, but knew they were being watchied, but they didn’t care. They could actually touch each other even though they only really hugged and kissed.
“Laura please.” Travis’ voice trembled, as he pulled her close.
Since the first time Tara and Jake took him, they continued to do so and it ran havoc on Travis’ mind. He wants Laura to touch him. To confirm for him that he wasn’t sick. That he wasn’t loosing his need and attraction to her by the sick fucks that held them captive. She peppers him with kisses and affirmations of her adoration and love for him, and letting him know that she knows he loves her he wouldn’t be doing this otherwise, to not let them win.
Turns out that they’re there for a month. The entire length of their whole trip and Laura couldn’t help the shock of the fact taking her back to that summer at Hackett’s Quarry.
Food, shower, food and sleep. This is the bases of the routine. They are surprisingly able to request the restroom without problem.
“We’re not animals.” Jake laughed.
When that didn't happen Laura and Travis were left to their own thoughts and each other. The other times Travis was being…
Laura could feel a permanent bitemark forming on her tongue. Sometimes Travis is held back after showers while she is taken back downstairs. Sometimes she wakes up and Travis wouldn’t be there and wasn’t brought back for a while. Tara would come down and taunt her, leaving the door open so Laura could hear Travis scream.
Travis made some sort of deal. Tara couldn’t cut her, stable her, or piss on her (again) but she did take to hitting her and spitting on her. They trade insults and Laura has to tread the line so carefully not to set the woman off to take her anger elsewhere. Laura makes sure to memorize every wrinkle, curl, and pore on Tara.
Travis began to recede into his own mind quickly. He barely eats, having to be hand fed food and water. He’s distant during their shower time. He doesn’t ask for her touch and he shrinks away some if she tries to initiate on her own. She can hug him, but he doesn’t reciprocate, she found victory in that he still let her and that she could help watch his back. He doesn’t sleep peacefully. He mumbles in his sleep, twitching and shaking from his nightmares and crying to never wake. Sometimes he would rest against her, saying her name like a protective spell and Laura wishes she could do so for him outside of his dreams.
Another turn of events happens when Tara and Jake start coming down to the basement without Travis and then the man himself would appear afterwards. Apparently he’s been deemed…Laura grimaces, trained enough to not run if left alone for a little bit. And maybe…Laura shook the thought but she wanted to through up anytime one of them came near. If they did Travis would dutifully stand up and start undoing his pants, unless told to stop only cause he was being taken upstairs.
The worse was she woke up to the sounds of fucking. Across from her Travis had Tara on the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist. He was bucking into her enthusiastically and Laura can’t help but match it to memories of how Travis happily did the same to her. What made this the worse;
“I love you.” Travis murmurs between kissing Tara on the lips, on her neck. “I love you, I love you. You’re so good to me. So good for me. I love you Tara, so much.”
This finally breaks the cracks in Laura. She hates giving Tara the victory of seeing her cry. Laura can’t get a proper thought together on whether Travis is putting up an amazing, necessary act or if they’d really taken him from her and himself.
It was the former thankfully. She doesn’t know this until Tara had comes down in the early morning to be the bitch that she is.
“How ya doing?” She smiles. “Sorry that you had to sleep alone, but I wanted my Travis with me through the night.”
‘He’s not yours, you sick cunt.’ Laura has to hold herself composed or else she’d be frothing at the mouth.
“He’s upstairs waiting in Jake’s room. My brother loves to sleep late.” She taunts, licking her lips at Laura’s anger.
When Laura clenchs her fist she realizes something was off. Her hands where behind her back and there was something resting in them. A sound comes from upstairs. When Tara turns around,
“Jake?” She calls up.
Laura looks down and realizes that she was holding something sharp. Also her chains areundone! And if she thought about it some she can feel and remember the lingering heat and soft pressure of a kiss on her temple.
Another scream from upstairs.
“Jake!” Tara makes her way to the stairs.
Then another scream; Travis.
A loud scream, a shattering of glass and clanging of various items. The fire alarm shrieks to life. A joint scream between Jake and Travis. Tara rushes up the stairs and Laura hates that it still takes a few seconds time to shake her chains off. If it didn’t she would have done more than stab Tara in the calf.
“AH!” Tara’s scream is so satisfying.
The woman kicks and Laura falls only a few steps back down. She recovers and shoulders the door before it could fully close. Now upstairs she could see the chaos. Travis started a fire and it was consuming the kitchen, the smoke rising.
Travis is bloody and Jake is choking him, ignoring the blows Travis is striking to his side and head. Jake at least was bloody as well, evidence of Travis having stabbed the massive man, a knife stuck in him still.
Laura quietly walks forward.
“AH!” Tara, has the worst shriek.
She comes from the side smashing a vase into Laura. Laura falls, arm hurting and a cut on her head. Tara mounts her trying to take hold of Laura’s weapon.
“AH! You bitch.” Laura screams, Tara bit her hand!
In retaliation Laura delivers a proper headbutt to Tara’s face. Tara recoils and Laura lifts her hips, rolling Tara off and Laura is now on top. She brings her weapon down, missing Tara’s neck too much for her liking. Tara yanks at her hair, Laura’s free hand claws at Tara’s, their other hands wrestled for the weapon.
Travis emits a rough cough of air. Laura looks to him and he’s purple in the face. Laura pushes her thumb into Tara’s eye. Tara let go of Laura’s hair and hand to wrench her face free of Laura’s nails. Laura swipes at Tara, only hitting the woman’s arms, but deep enough. Quickly standing Laura delivers a swift, strong kick snap Tara’s back and she laid there dazed, hopefully unconcious.
Immediately Laura leaps onto Jake’s back and begins to stab the man in the neck. He roars in pain and tries to remove Laura. She presses her head between Jake’s shoulder blades. Her yanked hair be damned. She keeps stabbing, hitting him in the side and even managing to get him in the eye.
At this Jake stands and rams backwards into the wall. Laura was smashed against picture frames and fell. She briefly notes that the family in the photo was distinctly not Tara and Jake. The massive man goes to stomp her head, misses and gets her hand instead. She hollers but is thankful, his aim was thrown off thanks to Travis. He grabs the knife he dropped before Jake started chocking him and charged into the man, plunging the knife into this side.
It’s bullshit the amount of damage Jake can take. They are weakened, but they don’t stop. Despite only holding himself on his knees, Travis manages to stab Jake again, in the stomach, and drag the blade some. Laura gets a good stab in Jake’s leg, above the knee.
Sirens are heard approaching causing Travis and Laura to briefly realize how close to normal people and homes they were, that they weren’t actually somewhere far from help. Jake shakes them off and goes to grab the unconscious Tara. He escapes through the front door, spots the fire trucks and police cruisers and limps away as fast as he can manage.
Laura emerges from the house, Travis apologizing for her having to bear so much of his weight. They collapse into the oncoming paramedics.. It was over. Mostly over. They’re to stay at the local hospital for a while.
I’m about to hunt some people down! (Or maybe Laura will 👀)
#DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT#THE DEADEST OF DOVES#TRIGGER WARNING#NONCON!!!#tw: r*pe#I think this is sufficiently tagged#cause DAmn#hah 😂#no wonder you asked me what I was comfy with getting in my inbox#hope they junto those two and tears them to shreds slowly!#ask#anon
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Babe wake up new eye crime
When everyone keeps interrupting your Very Important Business for fucking small talk
Literally just an exaggerated scene from H2O au. I haven't even posted this chapter (yet? I might scrap it ngl) but fuck it right it's funny as hell to me
Also (spoilery) Ravus memes because I genuinely love him. He's not in this chapter, I just think he's neat 💙💜
#My man has a will of iron#So I haven't slept in 36 hours how's everybody else doing I feel G r e a T#Ffxv#Cruddy rambles#H2O au#Bc fangs#That's it. Theyre just fun to add#I don't own an at-home movie theater but you would think I do given all the projection that's going on over here#Small talk when ur trying to focus on something is the devil speaking#I hope he looks sufficiently exhausted#I literally forgot how to draw Ignis's hair halfway thru drawing this#I don't know what's wrong with me but these memory problems are getting Out Of Hand lol#Spoilers#Me? Spoiler tagging a years old game? It's more likely than you think#Not enough people have played it for me to be comfortable just posting spoilers without at least tagging it as spoilers
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Hello! I hope you're well.
Can you do a Damian Wayne x Male reader oneshot? Based on the song "Stacy's Brother" by Mad Tsai.
Damian finds out that Male reader is the little brother of [Big! Sister].
Then Damian decides to approach [Big! Sister], in jobs, projects, etc. All this to get closer to Male reader.
Maybe a sporty, extroverted and clumsy Male reader?
I can't get it out of my head that Male reader is somewhat nervous about being around Damian due to Damian's personality and the fact that he is taller than M!r doesn't help.
Also, Can I be anon 🛸?
Male! Reader x Damian
TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)
Tags: Yandere! Damian Wayne x Reader
Solitude is preferable to irritants for Damian, so to prove useful enough to be a contact of his is difficult. He’s an heir first and a human second,this is fact, every thought he has is spent towards a goal, and every goal to another's gain - this is the natural state of his operations. Much like a king's pristine puppet he is a glorified prize that must maintain itself. If he meets his darling through a sister or really any family member not of his own, the darling has no backing to stand. Simply and utterly he is beneath nothing to Damian - and maybe that's how he got trapped.
Contacts from his mother provide lethal abilities, contacts from his father are useful and cut throat -expectation and criteria create his world brick by brick - everything has its place of necessity. A contact form outside this world is easy to push off - it's useless and creates nothing but problems for him - but his Darlings sister is needed and to maintain relations he must come to know Darling - so he takes to this as a bat. The Darling is a lesion, a bleeding pus addled wound in his world of rules and he must get you to heal - it's a clinical and medical perspective. He is his own greatest triumph and Darling are the termites that are picking at his puppet strings.
Diagnosis comes from close observation- and he needs to be perfect to complete his tasks. You are stalked and detailed without mercy - without decorum, for the first few months you aren't even human. Damian takes a while stalking him, perching on the ceiling and staring through windows - devouring every image with curiosity. Like a dog lapping at its bleeding wounds - Damian tends to him with hypothesis and obsessiveness - laving over him with his tongue until he’s all that he can taste. Every detail is crucial - every twitch of his muscle under his skin and every time his drops of drool on his pillow in the throes of the Darlings sleep.
It begins with details and ends with praises and reverent prayers - what used to be details of something he needed to heal became the height of his worship. Damian slips from the king's grasp and becomes a tumbling mess of flash and singing blood - the para social relationship nurses itself into an infection.
Sporty? Good, keeping himself in shape is the least of the training that his Darling needs to do in order to stay safe in Damian’s own shadows. Not to say he’d ever let anything touch his darling but it's crucial to keep him in good shape. Paranoia runs in his blood - it's how survival is formed, it's passed on heirloom.
Extroversion is hardly a trait he is foreign to - in fact it's perfect that his Darling seems to seek out others in social situations. As his other half, his humanity given flesh - it's obvious he would have the skills to express it.
So what if he’s clumsy? It's simply the innocence of untarnished life showing through - Damian has none left - not even in the hollows of his bones - but his darling can make up for it. To him it's an even trade - like heaven and hell to the spirits that pass.
After sufficiently gathering all he can from the window - it's only so long before he reaches in. He needs you - from the wound is born an infestation and Damian is sick with it - it fills his orifices and body and mind until Darling infect his brain. He won’t blame you for it - how could he - but you’ll have to take responsibility.
Your sister is a means to an end - from the beginning of her contact to the time he uses her as a ticket into your life. He blows up her phone, her email, her everything - it's intensive and consuming and he won’t stop even if she answers. He needs you awfully, horribly to the point he might bleed out if he doesn't have his hand on your skin. She tries once to pull away - for her youngest brother's sake - she wakes up with a katana and a whispered warning to her ear. She does not try again. Sometimes you can see her eyeing you from the other side of the room with something like an apology on her face.
Sharing a gender orientation gives him easier access to you - into bathrooms, locker rooms, and a sort of social intimacy that society gives leeway. It's not overly suspicious as he leaves an arm on you - seeks you out - it's what friends do. You're both boys so there's nothing to be shy about Darling.
Of course he makes you nervous - ha can’t blame you - he's a trained assassin and you're all but a civilian but he’d never harm you. Never dream of it, even, to harm you would be his death. But it doesn't stop his eyes that are far too familiar for a stranger, nor the offsetting way he accommodates you so easily - as if he knows you better than yourself. As if he’s a worm in your brain and was wriggled so far it's made its home - a parasite. It sets you on edge - pulls at your skin until your organs and bones and he still needs to go deeper.
Author's Note: Hi anon! I don’t actually have a cohesive list of anons but if you want to identify yourself with emojis i'm all for it :)). Also - my writing in general doesn’t incorporate gender a lot but I hope this is ok.
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May Your Heart Be Free
Isaac Rhoades x Reader
Inspired by this post and all the heartbreaking lovely replies. Special thanks to @xzhdjsj, @kieran-rhoades and @c-t-r-l14 as well as the lovely @jasminepicksflowers for the heartbreak ideas. (I hope you don't mind the tag!)
Isaac drowns in work and sorrow after you leave him to become a singer. You meet again.
The house was empty without you in it. He could feel the loneliness weighing him down, stealing the air from his lungs as he walked the desolate hallways. You had taken every ray of light when you went, leaving him in the tense darkness of his dangerous life.
Isaac sighed, burying his face in his hands as your lovely voice sounded over the speakers in his study. He tried not to indulge, refraining from checking up on you too often — maybe once or twice during the day, going through your social media, keeping track of the people frequenting your neighborhood and assuring you would never come to harm — but at night, sometimes the longing in his heart was too much to bear.
Your singing did not ease the burden on his heart, but at least it turned the suffocating feeling of having lost you into a sharp ache instead. He could hear in your voice that you were happy. The enthusiasm it carried as the vinyl spun circles made him smile fondly despite the tears in his eyes. You were happy. That was all that mattered.
He downed his whiskey, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. God, he missed you terribly. The alcohol did not soothe him as it used to now that he knew what it felt like to be held when his heart broke apart. The stinging in his eyes as his vision blurred, the cramp in his right hand, the pain in his head — all the signs of overwork he had prided himself on pushing through to continue his work until the early hours of the morning, satisfy his client and close the case, now threatened to bury him under their weight.
When had he become so soft? When had shutting off his heart and putting his head down to drown in the pages before him, stopped being enough to save him from the rising tide of his sorrow?
The ring he had gifted you lay in front of him on the desk. The note under it was almost mocking — ‘Thank you for everything. Take care.’ — as if everything between you could be reduced to a simple ‘thank you.’ As if his overwhelming love for you, the thorn in his side and the reason he still breathed warranted the meager reciprocation of ‘take care.’
He took the ring, clutching it in his shaking fist, and pushed the note away from him, careful not to stain it with the tears trailing down his face. It hurt. Having you gone hurt; hearing the echo of you in these walls, feeling the memory of your love for him — it tore him apart over and over and over again.
It made him feel like a boy again, terrified of the darkness lurking at the end of the hall. Isaac had always prided himself on being self-sufficient, but now he felt almost petrified at the thought of being alone.
Asirel, kind and indebted to him as he was, had tried helping in his own way, knowing Isaac long enough to be familiar with his coping mechanism. He had given him case after case, making him lose himself in work until there was little time to think about anything else. He had taken every case, hoping they would fill the aching hole inside him.
Isaac downed another glass of whiskey, grimacing at the tear stains he felt on his face. Nothing could make him forget about you, and as the needle lifted off the vinyl, stopping your melodic singing and replacing it instead with the empty sound of the platter turning, he stored both the ring and the note away in the top drawer of the desk, telling himself that tomorrow would be a little easier.
It never was. Your absence still burned as much as on the day he had said goodbye.
With all the work he did, Isaac rose further in his client’s esteem. They all saw him as an efficient, professional, and hard-working young man, praising him for the thorough and quick handling of their cases. His reputation began to precede him, carrying the word of Isaac Rhoades as the man who could retrieve information about questions other people hadn’t even thought about. Asirel was proud of him, of course, and many clients wanted to have him as a more permanent ally as well.
“Monsieur Rhoades, so glad you could make it!” the little man with the mustache said, shaking Isaac’s hand energetically. Normally, he would have never accepted the invitation for a soireé, but this particular client had insisted, constantly bothering him about the expensive appetizers he had imported straight from la belle France and the breathtaking music he had arranged to be played at his lavish mansion.
“Thank you for having me,” Isaac replied, presenting the old wine he had brought as a gift. Truthfully, he had grabbed the first bottle he had found, knowing that every one of them was appropriate to keep up appearances and otherwise not caring in the least bit about the evening’s festivities.
The host took the red wine, staring at the bottle with wide eyes. “Ah, Oui,” he said, sounding shaken, “excellent taste, I see. Excuse-moi.” He walked towards his assistant, Isaac presumed, handing him the bottle carefully and muttering some hurried French, probably instructions on how to store it properly.
It made Isaac wonder which one he had grabbed, but the thought quickly left his mind as he took a glass of champagne and began sipping it. He yearned for his whiskey instead as the evening dragged on.
He had handed out most of his business cards when the host approached him again, swapping his half-empty glass of champagne for a full one. “I have the most lovely performance prepared for my guests tonight,” he said, slinging an arm around Isaac’s shoulder amicably and beginning to walk him towards the faint melody he had picked up sometime during the evening from the adjoining music room.
The musician was singing, accompanied by a piano, but he had drowned out the faint echoing of their voice as he conversed with the other guests, strengthening old ties and developing new ones.
“Very lovely indeed,” Isaac said, downing his glass of champagne and glancing at his watch. He wondered if half past twelve was an appropriate time to leave already. There was a sudden stutter in his heart, and Isaac frowned discreetly, his brain needing a moment to catch up to reality. The melody sounded familiar. The tone of voice, no—!
“What a pleasure to know you like them too,” the host said with a smile, leaving him alone in the doorway to catch one of his other acquaintances.
Isaac sucked in a breath, watching you play.
You had not noticed him yet, too caught up in your own world of music to pay much attention to the room around you as your fingers danced across the keys.
He felt so stupid. How long had you been playing already? How much time had he wasted mingling with potential clients while you were here as well, pouring your heart out as you sang the songs he listened to daily right in front of him?
The happiness you radiated with as you played was unmistakable. You were shining with it. Isaac could hear it in every note you played. He could see it in every sway of your upper body as you became one with the music, letting it overtake you as you put your all into expressing how you felt.
He was so happy for you. Seeing you like this, hearing the joy and brightness in your voice melted his heart and no matter how much it tore him apart that you were no longer by his side, he was glad to have let you go and have the privilege of watching you live your dream.
Trying to blink away the tears in his eyes, he applauded like everyone else as you looked up from the piano, your song fading into the noise of the people around you. There were many, leaning against the walls or talking near the open windows as they enjoyed your soothing playing and the magical sound of your voice.
You inhaled shakily, swearing you felt your heart stop when your eyes met. Isaac’s face was ashen as he stood in the doorway. You could see the emotion in his eyes as he smiled faintly at you. Having him here, cheering you on and gazing at you with a look of such pride brought tears to your eyes, you longed to get up and engulf him in a hug, thanking him over and over and over again for everything he did and still does for you.
Instead, you kept up appearances, inclining your head and smiling gratefully at the applause of the other guests. It would not do to cause a scandal here, neither for you nor for Isaac.
Placing your fingers on the keys again, you began to play with a slight adjustment to the night’s setlist. The song was new, to the public at least. You had written it during melancholic nights, your mind filled with thoughts of Isaac, longing to see how he was, but knowing it would only hurt so much more to reach out to him.
You had never planned on releasing it, but having Isaac here, so close but so far out of reach, made you want to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to show him how much you missed him.
“Is the world enough to save
For your stoic’s life of purpose?
Did you rummage through the haze?
Have you caught off all the surplus?”
You closed your eyes, having played the melody more times than you could count. You could not bear looking at Isaac as you sang to him, worried of what you might find in his gaze — worried of your voice cracking as the emotions for him overwhelmed you.
“Is your life so full of shadows
You no longer see the light?
Are you standing in the ashes
Of the bridge I left behind?”
Deep down, you feared he hated you or harbored resentment towards you after abandoning him. You knew you had hurt him.
It was obvious, from the desperation he had tried to hide in his eyes the day you told him about your decision to the tight embrace he had given you at the door, as the car waited outside to take you away. You had almost expected him to plead, beg you not to go and leave him behind in the claws of his past, but Isaac had never allowed himself to be selfish. He had let you go with well wishes and the request to look after yourself.
“Did you drown yourself in whiskey
When you saw me walk away? — Or
Did you freeze up your heart
To keep yourself from missing me?”
Your words made him flinch. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to anchor himself to the present and remember in what company he was in. It would sully his name if people saw him break down over a song — a seemingly random one, to their eyes. He kept looking at you, watching how the light breeze ruffled your hair as you sang with your eyes closed.
You were beautiful, and Isaac could not help the surge of affection taking hold of his heart. He was soft, but only for you. Something about you brought out the side of him that he had thought buried long ago, and no matter if you were no longer with him, seeing your passion for music, the love for what you did — as much as it pained him to admit it was for the best, he was happy he let you go.
“Is the world enough to save —
My knight of shadow?”
The tempo slowed, and you opened your eyes again, finding Isaac already looking back. You needed to tell him. You needed to make sure he knew you were genuine as you confessed to him the truth that had been eating away at you — hoping he had it in himself to forgive you.
“I dream through every day,
Wishing I’d stayed beside you.”
Isaac’s eyes widened in shock as the last verse hit him. It felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. The softness in his heart not a moment ago turned into drowning sorrow. The only thought on his mind, as he heard the crowd cheer, was that he needed to get out. He needed to collect himself.
“Lovely, aren’t they, Monsieur Rhoades?” the host said, nodding towards you. He did not see the anguish on your face nor the longing in your gaze as you continued playing, unable to get to Isaac as all the eyes were on you. “Don’t you love a display of talent like this? Je l’aime!”
“Excuse me,” Isaac choked, keeping his head down to hide the tears threatening to fall and making his way through the crowd quickly, ignoring various calls of his name. Yours was not among them, so he continued hastily, needing to get out, get away, only stopping when he was safely inside his car, hidden in the darkness again where nobody could see him lose his composure.
Only in the darkness, he allowed his tears to fall unseen.
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Week One (the first one)
9/25? Already?
Good Morning Afternoon Evening Night
This week is the first of many to come, so we will start small. Consider this an initiation into the society.
To begin,
Before you step outside you may need to take precautions and make preparations.
A list of things you may need:
Writing utensil and paper (, perhaps a journal) to record thoughts and findings
A bag, to store thoughts and findings (and rocks. Any bag is sufficient as long as it can store rocks. Beautiful rocks..)
Flashlight, because it's hard to see when things are dark
Bandaids, we hope you won't get hurt, but just in case
Water. Dehydration is not good for you
Please be careful while exploring.
Be aware of weather and enlist the company of a friend if there are safety concerns. We do not want to lose our beloved members
Weekly Explorations
#1 Go outside. Anywhere outside.
2) Find a spot to sit. It can be anywhere. Walk or bike or run and find a place that calls to you. It could be somewhere you've been before, or somewhere completely new.
3.. Think. Breath. Write what you feel. It could be a drawing, a poem, just thoughts, a single word. Whatever you do is special.
4= Take something, leave something. Take something small. A leaf, a stick, a R O C K. Leave something small. A drawing, a note, A N O T H E R R O C K. Even if you can't take something small, even the act of breathing, taking the oxygen, leaving the carbon dioxide for the beautiful plants to recycle, it's enough.
That is all for this week. Feel free to begin the Weekly Explorations on any day, at any time. Remember: all adventures are good. Time doesn't matter. Day doesn't matter. Just take the time to appreciate the small worlds around you.
This has been a message from The Head Of The Society, written by The Hands Of The Society, and spell checked by the raccoon that has been stealing the glass jars from our recycling bins (they were $financially compensated$ for their work)
A message from the advisors
The raccoon was a spy. The Head Of The Society still won't let us review what they write, so we planted the raccoon to try and get inside information. Sadly, we forgot that the raccoon didn't know how to take screenshots so that plan was a failure.
Feel free to post about your Weekly Explorations with the tag #thesocietyexploratory, if you want to. Have a wonderful day and remember, there's nothing hiding in the dark expect the creatures it obscures.
#thesocietyexploratory#gremlincore#adventure#adventurecore#forestcore#forest aesthetic#forest#goblincore#goblin aesthetic#mysterycore#cryptid#crypidcore#liminalcore#liminal#secret society#mystery#arg#crowcore#vulture culture#vulture core#collection#spooky#wander#wandercore#explore#explorecore#fall activities#oh goodness please help me I've been typing these tags since Thursday they won't let me leave until I've finished#unreality#criptic
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Pls info dump about your system. I saw in your tag that you want to so consider this a free pass to do so I want to know all that ya want to share
HI!!!! SORRY YOUSENT THIS LIEK A WEEK AGO WE WERE WAITING 4 WHEN WE JAD ENOUGH ENERGY 2 INFODUMP JSISJDJFFNDJD OK OK UNDER THE CUT
WE ACTUALLY. ... DONT KNOW WEHRE 2 start Uhhhmmmm. hmmmm. OH MAYBE THE HEADSPACE!
ok SO the headspace changes DRASTICALLY like every few months or few weeks or so. Just a week ago it was a copy of the house we currently live in. We like,,, grew up in this house so it was Also our headspace for years as a kid and we had the vibe tht it was. The exact headspace frlm back then too bUT WE never did get to find out bc it changed AGAIN like a few days ago. smh. Now i think we're just above & outside of The Cave™™™™™ tht was discovered here earlier this year. WHICH IS REALLY FUCKING COOL! BECAUSE THAT MEANS:
The headspace survived the nuclear winter!!*
HOYL SHIT WE'RE IN THE MAIN HEADSPACE AGAIN LET'S GOOOOO <= has been stuck in Harry's headspace for the past half yearIEJFKDKFMC
[*Sometimes it just fucking gets Destroyed. Like... Semi permanently. As in, if it gets destroyed there is Very Little Chance we'll see that variation of our headspace AgainFHDJDKFKFJ and last we uhhjj Talked to anyone in the Main System, bc we are... TECHNICALLY A SUBSYSTEM! FJDJFJ, they were like Yeah no everything is fucking Destroyed <3. But that's not the case snymore ig???????]
SO w all this information actually if we rlly wanted we could probably make a decent map of the area. cuz if We jave this headspace back then we have Everythingggg it had in it back too & everything that it was connected to THAT'S NEAT WE MIGHT DO THAT!!
uhhjjj waht else. HMMM. i thuink our current front roster is neat TBH there's some guys active rn that we'd have never expected. like HI PHYS! WYD WHY R U HERE RN <3 QJAIWOSKSKDNCXN but it's fun !!!! i hope everyone innn our subsystem will fromt here at lEast once bc I Am Lov Collecting Informatión On Everyone <= Primarily fills out everyone's PK & Simply Plural descriptions. actually I think maybe everyone has fronted a sufficiently long enough time EXCEPT FOR HAND/EYE LIKE S I R GET YOUR ASS UP HERE TELL ME ABT YOURSELF BASTARD !! GJCJCKCKF all ik abt him is that He enjoys making Pokeblocks On Pokefarm. that is IT and that's NOT ENOUGH INFORMATION MY GUY but anyways.
i also think us Existing Here is so funny in itself like our asses rlly just got Possibly permanently isekai'd huh. like. like. Genuinely I don't know if our past mains r coming back at this point but that's FINE we already did the whole 96 stages of grief shit about it IF that be the case then SO be it Whatever there's pros to this life ig. like THIS body isn't on the verge of SUDDENLY DYING FOR NO REASON and also We have a cat. we have a cat!!!!! and a dog!!!!!! whaddahell!!!!!!!
there's lotsa fun shit here But there r also the Horrors. Like I PERSONALLY WOULD LOOVE TO EXIST with Out the Constant Paranoia And Delusions but IT *IS* PREFERABLE! OVER WHSTEVER THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH HARRY <3 AJSJDJF
I will say tho. When we uhhhhhhh All popped in & all we Just assumed we'd be Gone & dormant MONTHS AGO but ummmm . well. apparently not! sO the things we wanted 2 Experience have a High probability Of Happening,! Like PT is excited for Halloween and UNLESS those pirate fucks completely take over the roster within the next like week [0f.md s2 on the 5th babey!!! holy shit!!] then it's. Probably gonna happwn!!! which is so cool we don't actually... hey did Halloween exist in (source game)
man and speaking of. Memories Of The Past as we call source memories. It's a collective sys-wide trait thing All our fictives from aNY source rlly enjoy piecing together what they remember from their canons & all It's like enrichment for us. BUT we've been kinda piecing together a rough timeline of when We all formed in our canon That's our biggest Thought Project™ rn. No estimated time 4 when it'll be Complete tho probs never tbh. and w that in mind u may or may not believe who harry's first sysmate was According 2 what we've put togetherJTJEDKFKDJS
ok that's liek 5 trillion words Whoops. we r so talkatives <3 I am going to stop there it's like 5 am JFJDDKCKF we gotta go back to bedddd -E-Chem
#ask#THANK U 4 THE INFODUMPING OPPORTUNITY if u have any more questions. bls feel free 2 ask#We Lov Talking. Abt Ourselves. JWNDFJCNSKFNFKSF#*According to The Timeline/Our Canon harry's first headmate was HL. which is so funny 2 me that guy is like 12#but also ig it makes sense. idk.#me‚ one of the newer bastards in Harry's system: *points at HL* that thing is my baby brother#HL: *is literally older than all of us formation date wise*#HMM. our brain is telling me we r Cringe....... oh well! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ *beats our brain with hammers*#actually 1 more thing#Inland formed first in this body's system . like.. holy shit could you imagine if they became the body's signature skill . fucked up [JOKE]
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So I actually have a story about how the cover art for this last issue of FUCKIT came to be.
For those who follow me and don’t blog the FUCKIT: the zine tag (thank you for that, by the way), you’ll probably remember that when I was recruiting for submissions, the image I was using was this guy:
Super fun, right? Definitely suits the theme of “countering a culture.” Hideously relevant, what with all the drag bans and everything. I’d put a lot of time into it (the tackiest art is always the hardest), and I’d enjoyed the time I put into it and I was very attached to it and that was the direction for the issue, I was sure.
I also made that decision back in, like, October. By February, shit had changed.
Some of that’s just February, to be fair. Winter is rough, and the end is the roughest part. Melancholy is a natural element of the season. Some of it was Terry Hall dying back in December, which got me back into a lot of music I hadn’t really listened to for a long time, which got me thinking about different things (as music always does). All the bits and pieces of ideas I’d been rolling over to find subject matter for the zine didn’t really compel me anymore. None of the ideas that did appeal to me really matched up with smirking John Waters on the Cross. But letting go of the concept seemed short-sighted, and potentially self-indulgent. What if people had been writing to the theme I’d presented, with the imagery I’d given them, and then I changed it last second?
Then I read @ximen‘s piece for the zine.
I know no one’s had a chance to read it yet apart from me (although that’s obviously going to change for several of you in the next couple of weeks, depending on shipping times, and also you can get the zine here), but to give some kind of context: One of the running themes of the piece is Eric Clapton’s not-nearly-as-infamous-as-it-ought-to-be, deeply racist rant at a concert in 1976. If you’re not interested in reading it -- well, don’t blame you. It’s unforgivably bad, and his attempts to walk it back have been not terribly great, actually. However. Something genuinely good came out of Clapton’s bullshit, and that was Rock Against Racism, a group of musicians and activists who put on show after show after show in the UK and the USA to fight back against the rising tide of racism, facism, and nationalism. Over the course of five years, RAR worked to unite ordinary people to fight against groups like the National Front, and inspired people to get involved by founding their own RAR groups, hosting their own RAR concerts and festivals...
And starting bands, of course, like a little group from Coventry that started off as the Coventry Automatics, and eventually became the Specials.
(pictured: Terry Hall and Neville Staple of the Specials at a RAR concert in Leeds)
I’ve always been a big fan of provocation. I love it. I think people need to be rattled up a bit sometimes. But I’ve also always been a big fan of earnest, sincere, dirty-handed work, in the power of ordinary people in sufficient numbers to make a real difference, and that’s what RAR represents to me. That’s what the Specials represent to me, and that’s what Terry Hall represented to me.
They didn’t free the world from racism, and that’s okay. “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it,” and all. But they saw the way the culture was moving, and they worked to counter it. And, you know, Enoch Powell never got anywhere despite having Clapton on his side, so you can’t say they did nothing, either.
So I changed the cover of the zine, to give tribute to them, and to give Clapton the finger one more time.
The theme for next month’s zine is currently the Specials-inspired, “We Sell Hope.” What that’s going to look like, coming out in a Pride month that sees the LGBTQ+ community under attack in hundreds of ways, I can’t possibly imagine. I might bring John on the Cross back. I might do something else. Hopefully, I’ll be working on some voter registration stuff at that point, although we’ll see how it goes. However it goes, hopefully we’ll see you there.
Remember: Make art, help people.
#FUCKIT: the zine#long post#thought some of you might like a look into how the sausage is made#anyway fuck enoch powell fuck eric clapton and fuck fascists in general#looked all around the world we gotta take care of each other
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find the word tag CCCXXXI
I have so many last line tags that I could cheat to do and you'd be none the wiser, but actually I would like to write something. not tonight, tho. @spacetimewraithwrites
wood (summon story d0)
Zan put his hand back on Dair’s leg. “You don’t have to die today, if you don’t want to. You don’t ever have to do a ritual again. You can do what you want to do.”
Dair sank to his knees. He kept his eyes on the dirt as he answered, “I have to be useful.”
The words were wooden, something clearly repeated often enough to be rote.
“You don’t have to do rituals to be useful,” Shae said, her voice slipping into that strong-willed tone it had had when Zan first met her. “It’s your choice. Everything is your choice here.”
“Was I going to choose not to be saved?” Dair muttered, and Zan knew he wasn’t supposed to have heard it.
watch (dirt in the doing)
“Can you let me take care of you, too? You don’t have to tell me all your secrets. You don’t have tell anyone. But you could let us care.”
He’s so aware of the foreignness of those words coming out of his mouth. Jet doesn’t do this, doesn’t say these things. But he’s slowly realizing that change is not the most terrible thing to happen. He is capable of caring, and it’s not the end of the world.
Rune watches him think, not trying to push him away. “I don’t know how,” she says, a little breathlessly.
“Honestly, I don’t really, either,” Jet answers back, standing up, still holding onto her. “But I’m learning how to, bit by bit. In some ways I’m not really given a choice. I can’t push Copper away after just getting him back, and I don’t know what I’d do without the gang to fall back on. I’m a lot less self-sufficient than I think I am. You’re probably better than I am in that respect.”
water (abeyance, 2020)
where there was smoke on the water
now there is ice
crystallized webbing, threads stretched so tight
I hear the song you are playing
plucked on the strings
it settles on my collar bones, piercing
weather (imposter, 2020)
the weather is turning the corner
with its head facing away from me I dance alone
it’s stressing me out, can we turn back back?
minute by minute
one inch to every coat collar that hangs inside the walls
broken glass falls
slowly
suspended on a feather and the feather owner’s dead
I spin on my heel to find a gun to my head
whether (dirt in the doing)
Rune has very quiet nightmares.
He can’t tell whether or not she has any on the nights that he sleeps at her apartment because they’re in separate rooms. When he pulls on new clothes from a stash that he’s trying to ignore he’s compiling there, the idea that she might awake in the night and not come wake him up too nags at him. Not that Jet wants to be woken by someone scared and crying and he has no idea how to comfort, but if she does have a nightmare and doesn’t utilize his presence, it’s such a waste. Right?
Maybe she doesn’t have any when he sleeps at her apartment. He hopes so. But the third time she crashes at his, it’s a night when Copper isn’t staying over, and Jet has no idea what wakes him up in the middle of the night.
work (pickles at midnight, 2017)
Youtube keeps me occupied while my characters
fight each other with wooden swords and frying pans in my head
and the villain argues with the protagonist about
the questionable lack of back story.
At five o'clock my dad checks on me.
"You writing?"
I pause my music (Skyward Sword soundtrack) and
look at my pitiful work.
"I'm writing."
(I'm trying, really.)
wince (youth story d0)
Evie’s gaze sharpened, the way it always did when she knew her prey had been properly cornered. R could just change the subject but if Evie was in the mood to choose violence, well, his arm wouldn’t take kindly to that.
“Clarify,” he said, reluctantly. “Tell me my offenses.”
“You flirt with me.” Evie held up a finger, her tone flat but a bit pointed at the edges, and R had to hold back a wince at hearing it.
“You flirt with me, you avoid Bell, you ramble on and on to Daniel so he can’t get a word in, you avoid Mark’s entire existence like you’ve cut him out of the pages and stuffed him in your pocket so he doesn’t offended your eyes,” Evie continued to hold up fingers. “You want to saunter around like the world is jealous because needs it to be.”
choice, collar, corner, comfort. BONUS: character, clarify. @akindofmagictoo @josephinegerardywriter @dustylovelyrun @sleepy-night-child @caitwritesstuff @oh-no-another-idea @diphthongsfordays OR ANYBODY or nobody
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I posted 886 times in 2022
136 posts created (15%)
750 posts reblogged (85%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@forthegothicheroine
@marzipanandminutiae
@fannish-snailien
@thedupshadove
@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder
I tagged 796 of my posts in 2022
Only 10% of my posts had no tags
#d&d - 58 posts
#dracula - 23 posts
#superman - 21 posts
#dungeons and dragons - 13 posts
#writing - 12 posts
#dracula daily - 11 posts
#m*a*s*h - 10 posts
#d&d homebrew - 8 posts
#batman - 8 posts
#discworld - 7 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#it's a little unnerving to realize that i can follow and even almost sympathize with the logic behind such an objectively deranged response
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Superman, in my opinion, provides excellent fodder for pretentious meditations on the following:
Immigration, Diaspora, cross-cultural adoption, what you preserve, how you preserve it, what you can’t preserve, what you adopt, how much choice you have in what you adopt
Grief, and loss, and the peculiar flavor of grief that comes from contemplating the loss of something that’s so vitally important to you despite you only knowing of its existence in theory (Bonus points if we can use Supergirl to contrast that intellectual yearning with the more straightforward agony of directly witnessing the death of a world that you did know)
Heroism, what it means, how much choice individuals have in what it means, when should a person be said to have a “duty”, how often and under what circumstances may the strongest be allowed to lay down their burdens, dare we rest when the world is not yet perfect?
Power, and how people--both those who have it and those who don't--react to it.
Names, identity, personae, selfhood, a mask is always a self-portrait, how long must a mask be worn before it is no longer a mask?
What impact all of these things has on interpersonal relationships.
And the question is, can all of these themes be combined in a single work in such a way that they enrich each other, or would they only crowd each other out?
66 notes - Posted May 13, 2022
#4
On the one hand, I feel like trying to Fix Taming of the Shrew so it's less misogynist is a little intellectually dishonest, and we should be willing to engage with Problematic old media warts and all.
On the other hand, I have a really good idea for it.
67 notes - Posted January 31, 2022
#3
I could fix Hamlet. I know Ophelia tried and it went badly, but that just means I'll need to fix her too.
76 notes - Posted November 29, 2022
#2
I just came up with what might be the dumbest supervillain idea.
So there's this guy. Works as a special effects technician at the Metropolis Old Opera House. And one day he gets caught in some kind of accident involving a little too much Science™ and gains near-total invulnerability, but, and this is crucial, no other superpowers. This isn't a problem for a while, but eventually. Okay you know how your muscles get uncomfortably stiff if you don't stretch them periodically? And you know how stretching muscles is basically just tearing them a little bit?
Yeah, his completely unaugmented strength is no longer able to effectively stretch his nigh-invulnerable muscles. It's been six months. He is so stiff. Everything hurts.
He can't bend himself in any way that will help. Nobody he knows can either. But you know who probably could? Superman.
So he uses his special effects skills to stage a crime of sufficient magnitude to draw Supes out, hoping the resultant beatdown will finally give him the wringing he so desperately needs.
81 notes - Posted August 30, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
(Inspired by that @bemusedlybespectacled post I reblogged a few days ago, as well as the trend of writing Reddit posts about fictional characters)
Posted by u/Ginger-Gin on r/relationships:
My (24f) boyfriend (27m) won't hit me
So, I started dating this guy a few months ago, and things have been pretty great. He's hot, he's funny, he's smart, he's nice, we have similar interests, I'd be lying if I said his income wasn't a nice bonus, and the sex...well. At first, the sex was about as good as it had ever been for me, which is to say that it was fun, but that magic everyone talks about wasn't there. Until one night, when right as we were building to the climax, he (apparently spontaneously) bit my neck, pulled my hair a little, and practically snarled "You're all mine" in my ear. Readers, it was so hot. But afterwards, he seemed really upset, apologizing over and over and genuinely looking like he was about to cry.
This started a tricky conversation, and I finally got out of him that he had been fairly active in our city's BDSM scene (but swears he hasn't "scened" with anyone since before we started dating). I didn't really know anything about BDSM, so I decided to pause the conversation while I did a little poking around online. The more I found, the more certain I was that this was something for me, that this could be the source of the much-vaunted "spark" that I had never felt from sex before.
But when I tried to suggest to my boyfriend that we incorporate some of this stuff into our relationship, he was adamantly against it. I couldn't get him to explain why in detail, but at one point he did say "I can't. Not to you."
I don't understand. I know he's into this stuff. The more I learn, the more certain I am that I'm into this stuff. And we're into each other. So why can't we be into this stuff together? Do I just not have the right... submissive energy?
Posted by u/Anonymous on r/amitheasshole
Aita for wanting to treat my girlfriend well?
A little background. For several years, I (27M) was a regular participant in the BDSM subculture. I'm not proud of it, but--for reasons too complicated to explain--I got myself into a place where I could only really find satisfaction at the thought of tying a woman up and "punishing" her for even thinking about leaving.
But a little less than a year ago, I decided that I wanted to change; leave the clubs and the hookups and the "scene" and try to hammer myself into a functional human being.
Not long after that, I met an amazing woman (24f). It was touch-and-go trying to build my first real romantic relationship (I'm not particularly good with people outside of a work context, and I make considerably more money than her, which made it hard to find the sweet spot between "not doing nice things for her" and "showing off"), but now we've been together for several months, and it seems like I find new things to love about her every day. I could still feel the dark perversions of my past rumbling in my breast, but I clamped down on it, and I'm proud to report that our sex has been strictly vanilla.
That is, until a few nights ago. Our lovemaking was particularly passionate, and I...lost control. Let my old self out, if only a little bit. As soon as the lust-induced stupidity wore off, I of course immediately tried to apologize for my behavior, but she didn't seem upset; instead just asking question after question. I hadn't wanted her to find out about this side of me, but after my outburst, I felt I owed her honesty. So, I told her the truth, while trying to emphasize that this wasn't a part of me I had any intention of giving into again.
That seemed to satisfy her at the time, but only a few days later she told me that she had been "doing some digging", and was interested in "exploring" BDSM with me. I'm not sure which possibility horrifies me more; that she felt it necessary to feign interest in being beaten and threatened just to maintain a relationship with me, or that I have somehow managed to corrupt this angel after only glancing exposure to my twisted proclivities. Either way, I tried to explain that this wasn't what I wanted--that I wanted to change, to find a version of myself that I could be proud of, and most of all to give her the genuine love and tenderness and safety that I know she deserves. She eventually dropped the subject, but I could tell she wasn't satisfied or convinced.
At an impasse with the most important person in my life, and lacking anyone else in my real life to whom I could tell any of this, I put the matter to all of you for your input.
95 notes - Posted April 11, 2022
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Prada Replica Purses, Pretend Prada Bags Sale
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Designer Replica Prada Purses Online, Replica Prada Handbags For Sale
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Replica Ladies Prada Baggage & Wallets
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do you listen to kenyan music? if so do you have recommendations?
hello my dear winston unfortunately i don't listen to a whole lot of kenyan music even though i am trying my best and hardest to HOWEVER. apparently my grandfather's cousin was briefly a hitmaker in 1960s kenya & i like most of his songs!!! on spotify/youtube & whatnot he's listed as cdm kiratu i hope you enjoy what you find <3
#his songs r in kikuyu and not swahili & i am trying 2 find more swahili songs bc. thats the language im trying 2 learn#but still!!! sometimes it sounds quite familiar bc i'm used to hearing kikuyu from my parents/family friends#also his songs just fucking slap#i hope this is sufficient! he makes like. folk ish music. idk my dad likes him much more to my knowledge#sorry half of the answer to ur question is in the tags.#asks#winston
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been seeing many more articles about homophobic violence in britain recently and it sickens me that that makes me scared to go on T but here we are
#little bony horribles#i am so so so excited but the voice in the back of my mind telling me that i will be putting the one i love in danger#which uuuhh fucking sucks man!!!!#i want everything t has to offer me but i dont want the homophobia of looking like the gay little bastard i truly am GKJFDGSJ#i mean idk right now i look like a little arty lesbian and all i got for that is being yelled at in the street#homophobia#homophobic violence#hope these tags r sufficient i know seeing ppl talk about that stuff is justifiably triggeringfor many people like duh
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some 🅱️ops
i was tagged by @buffluigi (aka gwen, aka the living shitpost) to do 10 songs i’m obsessed with, which is hard bc i get obsessed really easily and this list will probably be completely different two weeks from now, but here goes anyway:
note: any links in this list that don’t lead to a hard-subbed video should have english captions available in the CC settings
1. ewe ft. Hatsune Miku - カトラリー (eng: Cutlery)
idk what it is but this song is just. really enchanting to me rn. the clinking dishes, the discordant piano, the overall floaty feel--it’s just neat.
2. Yanaga Miyuki ft. Hatsune Miku - A Melting Pot of Hostility
listened to this for like 3 hours straight yesterday while finishing a poem. a bit melancholy but very cool.
3. Kanzaki Iori ft. Hatsune Miku - Hated by Life Itself
GOD i love this song more than life itself. the piano, the music, miku’s distorted tuning, the amazing lyrics--it’s got everything. if you listen to just one song on this list, make it this one
4. Ankoya ft. Hatsune Miku - Don't Go Look for Someone Like Me
you ever feel like a song was written about you, for you, just so you could hear it someday, down the very last word? this is that song for me.
5. Eve - ドラマツルギ (eng: Dramaturgy)
i love this mv so damn much, and the song itself goes hard as hell. pretty sure i listened to this song for 3 days straight once. good shit. love eve
6. PinocchioP - SAYONARA HUMAN
this might be my favorite pinnochiop song, if i had to choose one. it’s also the only one i know of that is sung almost entirely without vocaloids; i think he uses miku as an echo on certain lines, but other than that it’s all his own voice.
7. luz×nqrse×ぷす - シュガーヘイト (eng: Sugar Hate)
i linked a subbed video for this one since the original didn’t have english captions to satisfy any potential curiosity, but the lyrics honestly have absolutely nothing to do with why i like this song. it’s just catchy as hell. this one’s really not any deeper than that
8. Mafumafu ft. Kagamine Len - ジグソーパズル (eng: Jigsaw Puzzle)
i’ve been listening to this song on loop for the past 2 days. i’m even working on some fan art of this mv, so stay tuned for that 👀
9. luz - 光 (eng: Light)
i have absolutely no idea what’s going on in the royal scandal series at any given time, but i dig the music. this song really captivates me for some reason
10. See-kun ft. flower - マイ・ディスカバリィ (eng: My Discovery)
see-kun is gonna be a huge change of pace from the rest of this list, but i love his music and this is a big fave. warning: can get kinda harsh and loud
wow was that 10 already?? i’m gonna break the rules and give an honorable mention to Blackjack bc i am gay and obsessed with that luka module, as well as Rolling Girl bc i was the miku from akiakane’s pv for halloween so i’m legally obligated to give it a shoutout here. anyway yes i know these all ended up being japanese songs and no i do not have any shame thanks for asking
okay that’s about it! sorry this got so long. i tag anyone who wants to do this, but in particular: @vietcaterpillar @littletetra @a-winter-wolf @g00pchii @ghastlychild and @raspberryrockcandy no pressure if any of you don’t wanna do it tho, it’s just for fun!
#i hope u r happy i have sufficiently embarrassed myself now gwen#sorry olyn and tay i have no idea what kind of music y'all listen to but i wanted to tag you guys#meg if you want to do this but only have video game songs i want you to know that's valid#mini you're always talking to me abt vocaloid at group so i had to tag you. this is how it is#roxy this seemed like your kind of thing and you should be able to do this one on your phone#sam i've never seen u do a tag game in my life & i already know u stan cheap trick but i still wanted 2 tag u#yes i talk to my friends by name in the tags of my posts. fuck you. i know they read these#or. well at least most of them anyway#long post#tag game#tagged in#bee babbles#music
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