#what a dipshit. what a wasted opportunity.

[mncxbe]

Sucking duos off...? Like... Sucking Soukoku off at once and Sucking off suegiku at once ..? If you do this, please include suegiku^^ (starving for Tecchou X Jouno X reader) FIC or HC your choice!

- 💄

nonnie😳 i really love your idea omg. it'd really be something considering the dynamics between them hihi hope you like it♡

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: brainrot, nsfw, oral, little bit of degrading, praise, pet names, manhandling and size kink if you squint, hair pulling, established relationship (in dazai's and chuuya's part), sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes i didn't have much time to proofread it♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 & 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂

Dazai doesn't like to share, he needs your undivided attention at all times. That's why the position he was currently in pissed him off so much– he was laying on the couch next to Chuuya with you on your knees in front of them, pretty hands wrapped around their leaking cocks, slowly moving up and down. But your mouth... you've been neglecting him for minutes now, choosing to suck off the redhead instead of him and he just couldn't stand this injustice any longer.

"Bella it's not fair" he cooed, his fingers tugging at your roots in a desperate attempt to pry your mouth off Chuuya's dick "Suck me off too."

"Fuck off, Dazai. Let her do her thing and wait for your turn" snapped Chuuya, shoving Dazai's hand away from your hair and pushing your head lower on his cock. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat but did your best to relax your muscles, slowly managing to take him to his base. "God pretty– you're so good for us. Look how well you take my dick down your throat" Chuuya's free hand moved to the nape of your neck, stroking it gently, a silent praise that made you whimper around his length.

All the while Dazai's frown deepened. You were so focused on Chuuya that you had completely forgotten to jerk him off. Wrapping one of his large hands above yours, the brunette guided your hand up and down his cock. Despite your fucked out mind you managed to pull yourself together and tighten the grip on Dazai's dick while hollowing your cheeks, earning a choked moan from Chuuya. "Shit– baby slow down can't cum yet." he mumbled, letting go of your head and resting his hand on your shoulder as his face scrunched up in pleasure. That was all Dazai needed to hear. With a quick motion he grabbed a hold of your hair and dragged you off Chuuya's cock, bringing your face closer to his erection.

"The fuck you doing" huffed Chuuya, but Dazai paid no mind to him, ordering you to open your mouth for him. And you did, of course you did– only the sight of his throbbing erection was enough to make you melt like butter. The brunette let out a satisfied hum when you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to his tip before taking him down your throat, tongue swirling around his length. "Hah- see Chuuya. She wanted my dick too, she loves it. Who do you think you are to deny her that?" he chuckled, and when you peered up from between his legs you could see the shit eating grin etched on his features.

"Yea... whatever you say, dipshit" grumbled Chuuya but he couldn't deny that seeing you sucking Dazai off did things to him. His cock, still glistening with your saliva and his precum, was throbbing frantically. He was close, but he'd be damned if he was going to cum untouched– Dazai would tease him about it for weeks so he gave his cock a few strokes, bucking his hips into his hand. But Dazai was Dazai and it didn't take him long to realize what his partner was doing. Naturally, he couldn't waste such a precious opportunity to taunt him so he flexed his fingers, combing them through your hair to brush the strands from the side of your face, giving Chuuya full view of what you were doing.

"My, my, Nakahara, you like this? Like seeing our pretty girl taking my dick down her pretty throat?" laughed Dazai, stroking your cheek

"Shut up you–" huffed Chuuya, his eyes glued to your plump lips, wrapped so sweetly around Dazai's dick. You were sucking him off so eagerly and god you looked so beautiful with those tears brimming at your lashline. He ached for you, needed you so desperately in this moment that he didn't even realize how much pre his cock was leaking.

"Wanna see me cum in her mouth? Or should I cum on her face? You name it, Chuuya." said Dazai in a silken voice, pulling your head off his dick for a brief moment. Your mouth fell into an o as you struggled to catch your breath, your chest heaving and lashes fluttering in attempt to get rid of the little tears at the corner of your eyes. When your eyes met his, Chuuya lets out a loud, choked moan, spilling his cum in his hand and you quickly crawled closer to him, taking his fingers into your mouth to lick them clean. "Look at you, bella, never letting a drop of our cum go to waste" chuckled Dazai, watching you lap up Chuuya's milky cum as he began stroking his cock with more force. "Better get ready to swallow mine too."

You put on a good show for the two men, slowly licking the sticky liquid from Chuuya's hand, sucking on his fingers without breaking the intense eye contact with Dazai. It wasn't too long until he grabbed the back of your head again and pulled you towards him. "Fuck... open up beautiful" he instructed and you obeyed, allowing him to shove his aching cock in your mouth and cum down your throat.

When he pulled away, Dazai quickly brushed off the string of cum that connected your lips to his tip and smiled, running his thumb along your bottom lip. "Well, Chuuya, I think it's time we return the favour. What d'you say?"

"I couldn't agree more"

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 & 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐

Jouno and Tecchou knew that you had a massive crush on them, but neither of them made a move. It would've been unethical, considering that you were colleagues and all but when you came to them with such a tempting proposal after a particularly dangerous mission, their resolve broke.

"So... you're saying you want to suck both of us off?" asked Tecchou, raising a brow as he watched you fumble with the buttons of your uniform shirt. "Yup, exactly". "But why?"

"Because, Hiro, I almost died today. And it reminded me just how dangerous our job can be. I don't wanna die before experiencing this with you" . You said all that so casually while undoing Tecchou's belt and lowering his uniform pants and briefs mid-thigh, freeing his half-hard cock. "Besides" you continued, giving his length a few good strokes "You're both pent up and tired. And you deserve this–"

Jouno, who up to that point stood on the side and observed the interaction between you and Tecchou, got off the table he was perched up on. "Don't make this about us, Y/N" he scoffed, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up "We all know this is just about you wanting to get some good dick. So get to it". Jouno brought your face level to Tecchou's erection and you peered up at the man, waiting for some sort of consent.

"Don't force her, Jouno" said Tecchou in his usual levelled voice, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's ok, Y/N, you can take it easy." You lolled out your tongue, giving his tip a quick lick before letting a blob of spit fall on it and spreading it along his length with steady hands.

"Yea..." retorted Jouno "She sure doesn't know what she's doing" Before you got the chance to take Tecchou into your mouth Jouno pulled down his briefs and guided your mouth to his cock. You whined when his tip hit the back of throat, triggering your gag reflex, but Jouno hushed you, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb on the side of your jaw. He could feel your sharp, ragged breath tickling the sensitive skin of his pelvis as he rocked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. "See, Tecchou, slutty girls like her like to be roughed up a bit, just enough to remind them who's in charge"

"You're hurting her, Jouno" protested the brunette but you quickly shook your head and hummed a nuh-uh, signaling Tecchou that you were okay. You could take it. Slowly, you reached out a hand, wrapped it around Tecchou's cock and started pumping him at a steady pace. He hissed, shifting closer to make it easier for you to jerk him off– all the while Jouno continued his deep thrusts. He was bruising the back of your throat, making you choke on that slick mixture of your saliva and his precum that flooded your mouth but the man didn't spare you a moment to catch your breath. "Shhh" he cooed, gathering your hair in a pony tail above your head "Just a little more baby I know you can take it."

Tecchou mused on you with pleading eyes. Your hand was so much softer and smaller compared to his calloused one and it made him feel so, so good. It was cute, really, and watching the way you were struggling to suck Jouno off was making the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten. Jouno noticed the changes in his colleague's demeanor and pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for hair.

"Come here, Tecchou. Face me" he instructed and the brunette obliged, confusion and excitement etched on his pretty features. Jouno guided you between them and smiled down at you, giving the crown of your head gentle strokes "You, my dear, are going to take us both ok?"

"I uh... I don't think this is gonna work" you stammered and Jouno to clicked his tongue in annoyance "We'll make it work. Now open up and take deep breaths. If it hurts pat my leg, ok?" You gave him a hesitant nod before parting your lips and allowing them to slip their dicks inside your mouth. It was a tight fit and Tecchou shuddered when he felt the friction from Jouno's cock. "G-god this is– too much" he sighed, experimentally rocking his hips into your mouth. Jouno resumed his movements too, matching his colleague's pace. Opening your mouth so wide was straining your jaw, their tips poking at the inside of your cheeks, making it impossible for you to hollow them out. Sensing your agitation, Jouno hushed you again, babbling out a few praises. "You're doing well for us, baby. Told you we could make it work. There you go... nice and slow" he sighed, picking up the pace. His mind was clouded with lust– your mouth was so warm, the insides of your cheeks so soft and the obscene slurping sounds you were making only added to the fuel. He could only imagine how beautiful you looked in that moment.

"H-hey Tecchou" he huffed out, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so the brunette could take a better look at your features. "Tell me what she looks like. Describe her to me."

Tecchou swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking in a soft voice "Uh she looks so pretty. Her eyes and lips are all glossy and fuck– she's drooling t-too". His voice cracked when Jouno suddenly came into your mouth and your eyes shot open, a mewl slipping past your lips. The white haired man pulled out of your mouth, granting Tecchou more space. "Keep going" he urged "Tell me how she feels"

"So, so good now" stammered the brunette, his lashes fluttering shut. Your mouth felt so much warmer now and he watched the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock with keen eyes. The white liquid seeped at the corners of your mouth but you managed to gather it with your tongue. When you started hollowing your cheeks again Tecchou was done for "She's sucking me in so much I– god I'm cumming 'm cumming" His hips stuttered, the tip of your nose bumping against his pelvis as he came into your mouth, flooding it with his cum.

"Shit–" he sighed weakly, caressing your face "I came so much, baby. Are you gonna swallow for us?" You nodded eagerly, parting your lips to showcase your now clean mouth, earning a content hum from Tecchou.

Jouno smiled, tucking himself in before helping you up to your feet and leaning closer to whisper in your ear "Let's do this again soon, shall we? I'm curious to see just how far you're willing to go for us, sweetheart."

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #chuuya smut #skk #chuuya x reader #dazai smut #suegiku #suehiro tecchou #tecchou x reader #bsd tecchou #jouno x reader #jouno smut #jouno saigiku #bsd jouno #bungou stray dogs tecchou #bungou stray dogs dazai #chuuya bsd #bungou stray dogs chuuya

[seat-safety-switch]

I’m Detective Archibald Shitpope. There’s only one thing I care about more than solving crimes: inexpensive Toyota hatchbacks.

The big boss upstairs has been tired of my incessant browsing of Craigslist at work for a long time. I get results, though, and no one else in the precinct comes close.

So when a murder case came across my desk, I did what I always do. Press F5 and see if anything under $2500 has been posted.

It took a long time to load. The precinct has shitty copper T3 back haul, and it’s always being wasted on stuff like crime scene streaming and live tracking of serial killers. That’s when I took a look at the case. And it shocked me. The murder occurred at the docks. The docks? That’s where JDM cars come from.

In dick school, they tell you that every murder has means, motive, and opportunity. There’s something else, at least for me. Toyotas. I carry a vintage トヨタ shift knob in my pocket, a sort of good luck charm. And, in contravention of department policy, my investigating car is a hammered-to-shit 2002 Celica GT (non-S) with bad ball joints, enough mileage that the digital odometer flickers in disbelief when I turn it on, and a case of sassy diff syndrome.

When I got to the scene, it was what I’d been dealing with for most of my career. A murder. I didn’t need the uniformed dipshits with their unreliable, smoggy domestic V8 squad cars to tell me that.

“It’s a classic locked room murder, boss,” said my assistant Soichiro when I finally arrived. He was born in Yonkers and legally changed his name after his hero, Soichiro Yamada, the guy who invented the cooled EGR system. “The keys are still in the vic’s pockets, so it's a mystery how someone got in there and killed him.” He walked me to a Toyota Corolla II “Windy.”

At once I knew the secret. “Soichiro, you fucked up again,” I spat with some measure of fatherly disappointment. This turbocharged, nearly-top-trim 1987 Corolla II sported the rare and desirable Panasonic parcel shelf speakers. That meant it also held the remote unlock feature, hugely uncommon for the Showa era, so much so that it would never be documented outside of the sales brochure, and certainly not in the inefficient and barbaric English literature for same.

“Turn ‘em out, Soichiro,” I ordered, pointing at his pockets, and he knew he had no choice but to comply. On the table before us lay the evidence of his treachery. One Carrozzeria branded remote lock/unlock remote, and - worse - the keys to a 1988 CR-X. He’d been on the take this whole time.

Later, the aforementioned uniformed dipshits would find something even worse on a search of a storage unit registered to my "partner," Soichiro. Four single-slammer D16 ZC engines, all matching serial numbers to the cars that went missing after the big tea house shootout in Chinatown. I’d been off that week, trying to find a replacement lift actuator, and Soichiro had filled in.

I don’t carry a sidearm. I don’t need to. I simply waited until Soichiro took flight, fleeing across the parking lot of the warehouse, and hit him with my car. Bent the upper radiator support, which the department bodyshop took care of since it was "in the line of duty." Fixed the headlight tabs, too. That probably cost Uncle Taxpayer a few cents.

I got a lot of heat for it later, from the chief, but the mayor overruled him, gave me a medal for valour. She was alright. Had a late model Tercel back home, I knew. Coupe, though, had a trunk. Politics is about compromise.

[woobiz]

Veritas Numquam Perit

The truth never dies.

cw/tags: minor violence, cursing, angst, norm maclean x f!reader

author's note: this is the first part to a series that i'm hoping to start. it's a norm maclean x raider!reader fanfic!! this first chapter is a bit short but it's only the introduction!!! i'll try to update as much as i can and future parts should be much longer. i love feedback and constructive criticism so pls tell me what you think!! pls no reposting/translations without permission.

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Lock a bunch of rats in a cage, they’re bound to fight.

The repetitive clanging of heads against metal was starting to irk me. There’s nothing worse than being stuck in a confined space with a bunch of dim-witted assholes whose only idea of a good time is beating the shit out of each other. I should’ve been out there in the wastes, flaying the skin off of Hank MacLean’s back, but instead, I’m sat in a corner, nose twitching at the scent of regurgitated jello-cake. 

I flinched as a man was toppled beside me, head slamming into the steel wall with a nauseating pop. Then, he was grabbed by the ankles and torn away, leaving a trail of sticky crimson in his wake. The vault dwellers came by every now and again, pleading with us to end the fighting, promising a better future. It was all bullshit and we knew it. Sometimes they’d even take one of us off to another cell to interrogate us. I don’t know why they thought any of those idiots knew what they were fighting for. Half of the dipshits in this cell were so high on chems, they’d have taken any excuse for a good brawl. Still, those holier-than-thou vaulties fought tooth and nail to fix us.

I’m not sure how they chose which of us to drill, but I was one of the many who still hadn’t been taken. At this point, I was contemplating giving into their demands if only they’d let me out of this god forsaken dungeon.

Once again, food was served, and once again it ended up splattered across the walls. The little one –a man with a perpetual scowl etched into his face– had watched the scene, unmoving. He’d been faced with threats one after another and all he did was watch. Then, as if the gods themselves had blessed me, he pointed to me and nodded me over to be interrogated. The prospect of getting out of that cell had me jumping at the opportunity, I took what I could get.

As always, they tranquilized me. When I woke up, I was alone in another room. There, the little one stood on the other side of a glass pane. His eyes stayed glued to mine, brow furrowed.

“What do you want with my father?” he spoke quickly, almost to himself. Father. I knew the man in front of me resembled something akin to that human scum, but he didn’t have the same foul look in his eyes.

The corners of my lips curled upwards at his ignorance. “You don’t know the half of it, MacLean.”

He took a step forward. “Then please explain what I’m missing.”

My smile faded as I searched his eyes. “How close were you? You and your father?” I watched him carefully. His poker face held strong.

“Close.”

I hummed at that. His glare didn’t break. “See, I don’t think you want to know,” I said, standing to face the young MacLean. “You think that you know the type of man your father was?”

He stepped closer, face inches from the glass. “He was a good man. You people took him away. Now you’re rotting in a box.”

I struggled to keep my composure. “You want the truth? Let me out and I’ll show you.” He scoffed, turning to leave. “You think your dad was some hero? He’s a destroyer. A killer.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes locked ahead. I watched his mouth open slightly, as if to speak, but it closed as footsteps sounded down the hall. I dropped back into my seat, preparing for the sickening sweetness of vault dwellers and their pep.

“Thank you Norm, but we’ve got it from here,” a man spoke. He had a soft face with well-kept facial hair and a pair of uncracked glasses. He stood beside a thinner man with dark hair and a neck brace. They watched me through the glass, silent for a moment before the first spoke. “Hello, I am Woody.” He articulated his words as if I was too stupid to understand them at a normal pace. I didn’t reply. “We want to help you,” he said, gesturing between us.

“I am Reg.” The second one spoke in the same condescending tone. The idea of cracking the glass and punching his teeth out was appealing, I can’t lie, but they'd only tranq me again. I kept my head down, not wanting to look in the eyes of the people that had destroyed my life. “We want to open our community to you.”

“Not interested,” I barked. I lifted my head. “I didn’t come here to make friends.” My eyes narrowed at the two men.

The first man, Woody, spoke with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Well, for obvious reasons we can’t just let you leave,” he flashed an insincere smile. My eyes were locked onto his. Either this man was an excellent liar, or he was just as dumb as he looked.

“You don’t know, do you?” I laughed to myself. “You two are trying so hard to be elected overseer and you have no idea what you’re doing.” My laugh grew to a cackle. I all but had tears brimming in my eyes. These idiots!

Reg shot a concerned look at Woody. “Maybe we should tranquilize her again,” he suggested. I didn’t care to stop them. Woody reached for the gun, pointing it at me with his finger on the trigger.

“When the wastelanders string you up and cook your skin, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He pulled the trigger.

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Everything was quiet. 

The room was filled with silence, save for a periodic beeping coming from just outside the door. They’d left me with a firm mattress to sleep on. I’ll admit, it was better than the bloodstained rags we’d settle for out in the wastes, but the dark of the metallic hallway wasn’t very comforting. I suppose the lack of radroaches was nice, but I’ve never been much of a sleeper. 

I lay awake atop the mattress, hands clasped together against my stomach. I was surprised to hear footsteps in the distance. I didn’t think anyone was awake at this hour, but what really got me was that they were growing louder by the second. I sat up, craning my neck to see down the hall. There, a light shone on the ground.

“Hello?” I instinctively reached for a weapon, only to realize that everything had been confiscated when I was put in this dump. I raised my arm over my eyes when the light rounded the corner. It was bright, almost blinding compared to the darkness that loomed before. Squinting, I was almost able to make out the figure. It wasn’t an angel here to save me, nor a demon to drag me down to hell. Through the glass I saw a familiar vault dweller, shutting off the light from his Pip-Boy. 

“Tell me what you know.” Norm MacLean stood in front of me once again. I eyed him. His hair fell messier than it had when we first spoke, draping over his forehead. I didn’t reply. His nostrils flared. “How did you know my father?”

“Ask someone else.”

He gritted his teeth. “I have. They didn’t even know his name. You did.” He glared at me through the glass. “Tell me what you know.”

“You want the truth? Like I said, you let me out and I’ll show you.”

He scoffed. “You killed our people. Because of you, my father is gone,” he barked, “and my sister, too.”

I tilted my head. “Your sister? The bride? I saw what that girl could do. Shame she died.” I stepped back, taking a seat on the mattress. 

“She isn’t dead.”

I looked up. “No? Well where is she then?”

He paused, watching me. “The surface.” I raised my eyebrows.

“What’re you doing down here, then?” He broke eye contact and I stood, my tongue pressed against my inner lip as my eyes landed on his expression. He stayed quiet. “Well, I’m sure she’s a goner anyway. Vaulties don’t last long up there.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Maybe,” I stepped forward, “but at least I’m not a coward.”

He was tense, his hands balled into fists on either side of him. I watched his nose twitch in his frustration. Then, just as he came, he went. It was dark again, and I was alone.

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Days passed filled with much of the same. The vault dwellers spoke to me now and then, trying to pry for information. I was careful with my words. I had no intention of doing them any favors. Some nights I was visited by the small MacLean. Each time I told him the same thing: “If you let me out, I’ll show you the truth.” 

The days grew longer and I think the vaulties realized I wasn’t going to be cracking any time soon. The nights were especially lonely. I can’t say I missed the rats I’d been locked up with, but Moldaver and I were close. Friends, even. I guess I got used to having someone else around.

That night, I sat on my mattress, back pressed against the steel wall. The past few days I hadn’t seen Norm. I’d usually sleep an hour or two. I’m not sure why I was never sent back but I wasn’t complaining. It had always been easier for me to be alone. Ever since I was a little kid, I’d known what it meant to look out for yourself. Besides, it’s better not to get attached.

The footsteps returned that night. I was almost relieved. When the hall lit up, I knew who was coming. At first, he didn’t speak. He slid down the wall on the other side of the hall, watching me through the glass, his chest heaving up and down. His face was painted with dirt and his hair fell messily over his forehead. His eyes stayed low and suddenly, I knew where he’d been.

“You went, didn’t you?” My voice pierced the silence like a blade. He looked up, “To thirty-two. You went.” 

“What happened back there?”

I watched his lips curl downwards ever so slightly. “I couldn’t tell ya’.” I dropped my head, eyes locked onto the ground. “It was like that when I got there. Been like that ever since.”

“They,” he paused for a second, “killed each other.”

Neither of us spoke for a while. It was easy to say that wastelanders were evil. We all need a scapegoat. I guess when it was other vault dwellers, it was different. To Norm, they were supposed to be the good ones. They were supposed to save America.

As if it was any consolation, I spoke in a mumble. “Sometimes good people do bad things.” He sighed. Another silence fell over the scene. Something in his sadness felt all too familiar. Maybe we weren't so different. Maybe he and I were one and the same. Maybe we were two kids, still searching for something they could never get back.

#fallout #fallout prime #norm maclean #norm fallout #fallout fanfic #fallout fanfiction #norm maclean fanfic #cooper howard #lucy maclean #fallout tv #the ghoul #fallout 3 #fallout show #fallout 4 #fallout tv series #fallout series #fallout tv show #fallout amazon

[faebriel]

howl’s moving castle but rainduo (platonic ofc)

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES. hmc is such a Classic nonnie so i had to do a bit of thinking to get it right (well.... to get it right in my head. but i feel everyone here is familiar enough with my particular kind of rainduoisms by now) but i think the outcome is a fun one :] i'm just gonna put my thoughts into bullet points

now originally i wasn't sure who should be who (oh my little bottle blonde anarchist......) but i did decide to put wil in a howl ish role and niki in a sophie ish role on the basis of how hard howl weaves narratives around himself and how hard sophie does not GAF. that element of them stood out so much that i was like okay cool that's how we'll do it

so niki is doing something semi unfortunate with her life. NOT baking that's for sure. holding onto an empty shop for a long-gone (not that she admits that bit to herself) old friend, and she's quite lonely. and then after crossing paths briefly with the local dipshit wizard she gets cursed by a snooty ass witch of the waste (idk who this would be.... open to suggestions i suppose)

and wilbur is the least competent wizard ever :] why bother to stay in wizard school when you could mix your own potions and refuse any and all help out of pride and trade your heart away to a fire demon for some companionship?

(i'm taking this as another opportunity to spruik albatross wilbur btw i know the wings aren't as striking as sleek crow-black but - )

the fire demon in question is fundy, who sort of came into existence as a being with a personality and such after falling from the sky and receiving wilbur's heart. wilbur smothers him too much. there's not many other people he keeps around to smother. fundy wants out honestly

(oh and it's not super relevant but i think tommy is markl hehe)

so niki marches off to track down the wizard who she overheard the witch mentioned and... starts baking in his kitchen. okay a rainduo thing is being almost too familiar with each other let's be honest. but yes i think they latch onto each other quite quickly. niki is at first just looking to have her curse cured but being old and hanging out in the house with people who actually seem to give a shit about her is freeing in a way, no more getting tangled up in the politics of her small town as it lunges towards involvement in the war, etc. wilbur thinks she's fascinating.

as for the broader "what's happening in the world" perspective i was thinking it was something along the lines of the antarctic empire being at war with another power, drawing all of these small towns and microcountries along with it.... wilbur is supposed to go home to his family but he doesn't want to because he's afraid of facing the trail of small, easily destroyed countries left in his wake, he doesn't want to deal with phil's questions or the scrutiny that he expects from phil. instead, he tries to sabotage the war effort on his own from the frontline

so he keeps receiving letters from phil, but he can't bear to face him. solution? uh.... get niki to go lol. it's even on the grounds of a small country wilbur once ruled (niki had to squeeze this information out of him like a sponge, and she only heard an inkling of it thanks to fundy), now called manberg, which ceded to the empire in the war.............

surprise! it was actually schlatt trying to pull Some Bullshit as a revenge trick. he roasts the other witch and then almost sinks wilbur and niki into the Void but despite his tendency towards problem avoidance, wilbur steps in to defend niki and they just barely make it away. that being said, niki has learned a lot about her new friend through this adventure that he has not been willing to divulge himself, and it stings. why does he shut her out?

also notable: wilbur gives niki a ring inset with three diamonds to help her find her way home

the atmosphere in the castle is not fantastic after that, all their fun little memories bitter now. wilbur swings between talking freely about ripping the armies apart with his bare hands (claws? talons? that secret is out and he keeps evading all of niki's questions with nervous laughter and quips about monsters) and saying absolutely nothing at all. his suicidal tendencies are the elephant in the room that basically everyone else refuses to talk about, except his own too-grandiose and vague comments on the subject.

niki tries not to stew over feeling excluded. the lonelier she feels, the worse her curse gets.

wilbur takes her to a flower field, blooms rolling long into the horizon, and for a moment she thinks they might be fixing things. (she's so wrong)

through a series of mishaps (perhaps a visit from one of niki's friends..... i feel bad doing eret dirty like that though lmfao) henchmen start breaking into the house just as bombs fall upon the city. niki is put into overdrive to keep the castle from falling apart as the city burns around them. wilbur, who is already doing extremely too much flying around and causing problems in the midst of bombs dropping decides to go exacerbate the issue in an attempt to go out in a blaze of glory. unfortunately for him niki, fundy and tommy are all stubborn sons of bitches who will be extremely pissed if he fucking dies, so we pick up the castle and start moving

okay yeah i kind of think the rest of the story plays out not too differently from the movie? niki gets split up from her friends when the castle breaks down and attempts to kick a dent into a mountain when she realises she's alone again. unable to find wilbur himself, with the last bit of power from the diamonds he gave her she finds the doorway into his memories and sees the moment he and fundy met..... they were both very lonely. very sad. she shrieks out to both of them to look for her in the future

she stumbles out of the memory and finds a pile of feathers wilbur and woooo forehead kisses and wooooooo niki finds fundy again and puts wilbur's heart back even if it means they both might leave her again. BUT THEY DON'T even if they're not all in the castle 24/7 niki now has a few nice friends and is so submerged in that feeling that she doesn't even notice the curse breaking.

and the war ends!! and maybe they even talk about their hurts!! the hurts they carry and how they hurt each other!! and they keep on living!! and they all live best friendily ever after <3

#im sorry it took so long to get to your ask anon!! usually i like to wait until the hubbub around one au has died down before i answer more #to make sure each one gets its day in the sun yk #but apparently hunger games au is sticking around! #also i almost went on a Litany discussing like. fix its in relation to this kind of au for rainduo but its late so i refrained. but i think #its really sweet that you were thinking of this story and it made you think of rainduo nonnie hehe #anyway thank you very much for your ask!! <3 #asks #rainduo #aunonnies

[urnoflilliesandroses]

A middle sibling helps their younger and older siblings. Everytime I thought of what happened to the corpse. I wonder if that'll be me. They didn't have to ask. I just snuck out and handled the corpse. It was my normal. Go through life full of dipshits and cruelty with my stupidity mixed in.

I know my mother and father wouldn't notice me around. I think Andrew and Ashley are the same way. It's a double edged sword. On one end, I can get things done without any notice till things go sour. The other end is just sour and bitterness of absent attention, love - just neglect- in general. I can't complain cause Ashley and Andrew had it worse than me. I just had to take care of myself and help in quiet, unseen, ways.

I had many perks from being in the middle. I was able to make connections. Act as though I was just a single kid without any suspicion. I ran away from home once I woke up to reality.

I could avoid my family overall without any acknowledgement. It hurts but I know they don't give a rats ass about me. My eyes are the reason why. If I could, I would have taken them with me.

My best friend turned lover told me I shouldn't worry about them. I listened and I left for the streets. Humanity is cruel and stupid by nature. So many people eyed me for their own entertainment. I couldn't complain as I chose to run off.

I did learn my youth is a gambling chip. Sex is a gambling chip. Having money, connections, and opportunities is who rules the world. I didn't think about this much then.

When I came to realization how fucked the world is, I knew what I was doing isn't wrong.

It's not cruel.

It's a means to an end.

So I sought to use others to survive. I kept telling myself it's nothing more than how this world works.

I managed to become a nurse with high marks. I love my job despite the assholes I have to resist in tearing them from the outside in; I am a sugar baby. I have no sense of shame as I didn't waste what I got on designer luxuries. Bills paid, groceries, student loans paid, even had a decent house and car.

Him, his wife, and I have a strange yet deep relationship. I act like a brat, a pussy, and I cute little slut overall. The two share me, love me, and even screwed. I love them, their attention, and how they showed me actual love. I never had this treatment.

Mors later joined in. It's been years since those days.

Lately, we've been talking about the possibility of me going back to school to become a surgeon. I don't know if I'll leave my job to go full-time. The three want me to.

I'm still considering for now. Nothing bad should happen for now. Andrew and Ashley haven't found me yet. Parents haven't reached out sense I left.

"You should sleep love."

"I know, I'll be in bed in a few minutes."

Mors's slender arms wrapped around Oleander's waist, his nose in her crook of her neck.

#the coffin of andy and leyley oc #tcoaal oc #the tome of a fallen angel

[saphira-approves]

Don’t Compare My Boy To K*l* R*n: In This Essay I Will—

okAY I’m talking about it

So I can’t find the post right now, but a few days ago I saw a post on my dash comparing Murtagh of the Inheritance Cycle to Kylo Ren of Star Wars, citing parallels for their similarities.

Since we all know this blog is really just a poorly-disguised Murtagh stan blog, I decided I’d share my thoughts on this comparison. I’ll be discussing character backgrounds, character roles, character motives, and character actions.

Part One: Character Backgrounds

Murtagh and Kylo Ren are both descendants of the “previous generation.” Their mothers were both prominent rebels, their fathers were both considered handsome and rogueish, and both sets of parents eventually separated. But that’s about where the similarities end.

Kylo Ren’s—or rather, Ben Solo’s—parents loved each other and loved their son. They may have been flawed in the way they showed it, but then again, the only account we hear of Ben’s childhood (as I recall, anyway, and I’m not rewatching those movies just for a tumblr post) is Ben’s, after he’d been groomed and manipulated by Snoke for many, many years. Han Solo died believing he was helping his son; Leia Organa died saving her son; at the very least, they both loved him enough, even while he was serving the Dark Side, to give up their lives for him. 

Murtagh’s parents, on the other hand, were a mess. From Murtagh’s account of their relationship, Morzan didn’t care much about Selena except for her usefulness as a weapon; he was happy to manipulate her and her emotions, but I highly doubt he actually loved her. He certainly didn’t give a damn about Murtagh, throwing a sword at his own three-year-old son. Selena, meanwhile, although she obviously loved Morzan at first, loved Murtagh even more, and clearly recognized that Morzan didn’t care for her the way she had once cared for him—when she recognized an opportunity to work against him, she took it. 

Kylo Ren despised both of his parents, but that hatred seemed hollow, shallow—it had no real reason. They led busy lives, perhaps didn’t make enough time for him, but their actions revealed that they did, truly, love him despite his mistakes, and Kylo’s loathing reveals itself to truly be the manifestation of a spoiled child’s anger, magnified tenfold. Murtagh, conversely, had very good reasons for his complicated view of his parents: he loved his mother, but she was kept from him (and him from her), and she died—possibly in front of him, though he never says, and, unbeknownst to him until much later, having just hidden his brother in Carvahall. There was no love lost between him and Morzan, who was in the best case just an angry drunk, worst case—and more likely—an abusive father, and the only thing Murtagh ever expected to receive from him as inheritance was his sword (which is by itself another whole post in the making). 

Part Two: Character Roles

Both Murtagh and Kylo Ren played the role of foil to the protagonists of their stories. 

Murtagh and Eragon were very similar in many ways; I’ve mentioned before the many “subtle” hints Paolini gives to their true relationship (”a pair of matched blades” and “brothers in arms” come to mind off the top of my head). Their differences clearly highlight their different upbringings: Eragon thinks in the moment, with his heart and his compassion, while Murtagh thinks ahead, makes plans and contingencies—this difference is most clearly seen when Murtagh kills Torkenbrand and Eragon's strong moral code makes him protest, even though killing the slaver was, objectively, the best course of action they could take. Yet Murtagh is not only Eragon’s foil in action, but also his foil symbolically: they are both sons of Selena, which binds them, and yet the sons of opposing fathers, which others unwittingly use to pit them against each other (yes, this is also a whole other post in the making. like i said, poorly-disguised murtagh stan blog). Murtagh’s foilness to Eragon is deeply interwoven into their friendship and their parallels, showing up in many subtle and unsubtle moments throughout the series.

Kylo Ren’s foil status, on the other hand, is… complicated in a different way. For one thing, he’s not just a foil to Rey, he’s also a foil to Finn—in fact, I’d argue he’s more foil to Finn, and more just a complete opposite to Rey. He’s the experience to Rey’s raw talent, he shifts toward the Light while Rey shifts toward the Dark, but with Finn, their stories of pulling away from the Empire could have been fantastic foil stories. Wasted opportunity. And I’m so mad about it but this isn’t a star wars blog so—

Part Three: Character Motives

Of course, both Murtagh and Kylo Ren’s motives change over the course of their own stories, so we’ll be looking at what they are and how they change.

Kylo Ren starts his story in TFA as a ruthless, power-hungry fanboy who cherry-picked his history lessons and simply ignored the fact that his oh-so-esteemed Darth Grandvader was actually redeemed in the end because Luke refused to give up on whatever scrap of good was left in him and I hate hate hate hate hate Luke’s sequel characterization UGH and so Kylo is “emulating” a false image of what he thinks Vader was: the power, the presence, the mask and modulator aesthetic, the “I’m on the Dark Side because it’s fun, and I get to do whatever I want consequence-free.” Which… no! So, at first, what does Kylo want? Power! Sure, he’s serving Palpatine’s Smeagol puppet Snoke, but eventually he’s gonna be the most powerful person in the galaxy. …well, but then eventually starts getting a little boring, so in TLJ Kylo ups his timetable, tries to get Rey on his side after torturing her for information (OF HIS OWN VOLITION! BECAUSE HE’S A JERK! He did not CARE about even trying to convince her at first, he asked the few questions necessary to justify meeting her resistance with a Force mind-rape), and then when she doesn’t join him on the Dark Side he fights her, again and again and again until he nearly DIES, and then HIS MOTHER DIES TO SAVE HIS UNGRATEFUL ASS, so now Kylo’s priorities switch from “power” to… uh… what, again? Redemption? By… how? Sacrificing his life for Rey?

Oh, now he remembers how his Darth Grandvader history lesson ended.

he’s still a copycat though

Murtagh’s motives, conversely, actually make sense for his situation. When we meet him, he has in the last few months run away from Urû’baen and lost his mentor and father-figure. His two priorities: keep himself and his horse alive, and see what the deal is with the new Dragon Rider he’s heard so much about. He meets Eragon and Saphira by saving their lives from the Ra’zac, and he’s there when Brom dies, and Eragon loses his own mentor. Having just recently gone through that pain himself, Murtagh gets attached, and joins Eragon on his adventure/vengeance quest against the Ra’zac. Murtagh doesn’t reveal his parentage, but he and Eragon find that they have a lot of similarities and get very close, sparring and bantering and becoming “a set of matched blades” and “brothers-in-arms” and other such friendly roles that are not-so-subtle hints at their true relationship, and even when they fight—notably when Murtagh doesn’t want to go to the Varden, because they might kill him, which would be actively violating his first priority of staying alive—Murtagh still agrees to help Eragon because he’s a nice f*cking person okay. And then, through shenanigans, Murtagh ends up getting kidnapped, assumed dead by his few new friends, and then 

TORTURED AND MIND-RAPED FOR AT LEAST THREE OR FOUR MONTHS.

And Murtagh’s will never broke! Not until Galbatorix gave him a dragon egg, and that dragon egg hatched into Thorn, and Thorn bonded with Murtagh, and Galbatorix threatened Thorn.

Murtagh fought Galbatorix until Thorn’s well-being was put into danger. 

After that, Murtagh’s priorities are skewed; he’s forcibly sworn to Galbatorix’s will, which sucks, but he’s also given fantastic power, which is great; but he and Thorn still get tortured as punishment for messing up, which also sucks. And then Nasuada, someone Murtagh actually likes, is captured and brought to Urû’baen, and Murtagh tries to hide his face behind the silver mask when Galbatorix forces him to torture Nasuada (physically, because Galbatorix never forces Murtagh to attack Nasuada’s mind) because he doesn’t want to torture his friend. In fact, he does everything in his ability to help her. And in the end, he cares about her so much that he realizes hang on a minute, I would actually put SOMEONE ELSE’S health and well-being over my own, which means something in me has fundamentally changed, WHICH MEANS I CAN DEFY GALBATORIX, and so what does he do? He gets rid of Galbatorix’s wards and lets Eragon finish him off. He gives up the Eldunarí to Eragon and Saphira, which were a huge source of his power, because in the end, he’s not a power-hungry maniac, he’s a nice person that shitty things happened to.

(And if Murtagh is a nice person that shitty things happened to, then Kylo Ren is a shitty person that nice things happened to)

Part Four: Character Actions

If you don’t believe me, then perhaps we’ll let actions speak louder than words.

Kylo Ren: In his first appearance, he orders his troops to kill an entire settlement. From there, he tortures Poe for information, obsessively pursues the protagonists who have the key to Luke’s location, becomes obsessed with Rey, who seems Force-sensitive, attempts to torture Rey the same way he tortured Poe, kills his own father even as his father apologizes and tries to help him, chases Finn and Rey (again) into a snowstorm on a planet that’s imploding in on itself because of a lightsaber; and then he’s chasing the Resistance—including his own mother—across the galaxy, killing Snoke and calling himself Supreme Leader (yeah, totally something a secret good guy would do), cornering the Resistance on Crait with the threat of DEATH. STAR. TECH. (miniaturized, but like. what’s the miniature of a planet-killer???? half a planet killer??????), and then ALLYING HIMSELF with PALPATINE (the stupid crusty meatsack didn’t even have to groom this one, he got a new apprentice for FREE), while also PLANNING TO DOUBLECROSS… PALPATINE… and continuing to chase Rey across the galaxy, trying to get her to join the Dark Side, and he only stops when his mother gives up her life to save his. 

His mother… who, just recently, he THREATENED WITH DEATH STAR TECH. 

All this to say, his “redemption” arc is hollow and stupid. Dying while doing “good” is not redemption, it’s a cop-out. Vader was ruthless not because he took pleasure from killing, but because it was efficient; he was redeemed because he found out he had been lied to, manipulated, used, and abused. Kylo Ren was fully aware of his situation, an abuser himself who took pleasure in his power and in killing people; and he was not redeemed by a kumbayah force-life-transfer BS or for turning on Palpatine, WHICH HE WAS PLANNING TO DO ANYWAY. 

Murtagh: Helps Eragon, helps Eragon even when he could get captured or tortured or killed, helps Eragon even though he’s surrounded by people who would suffer no regret over killing him, helps Eragon even though he will get tortured for it later, helps Nasuada because he doesn’t want to torture his friend (let me repeat, he DOESN’T. WANT. to TORTURE. his FRIEND. And he even ends up sneaking into her cell, AT RISK OF PUNISHMENT WHICH WOULD INVOLVE TORTURE, to talk to her and heal at least some of her wounds, and give her a way to tell reality from illusion when Galbatorix does try to force his way into her head), helps Eragon kill Galbatorix in the final battle, helps a little girl he’s only just met and gives her an enchanted fork, because why not, and only waits to rejoin Eragon and Saphira because he recognizes his own need to heal, to take time for himself and Thorn, and later, if FWW is anything to go by, probably to redeem himself by helping people, and fighting whatever threat he’s hearing rumors about in the north. Murtagh doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people, and he goes out of his way to do good things, even at risk to himself, as much as he’d hate to admit it.

Murtagh is hardly perfect; on the one hand, I fully agree with his decision to kill Torkenbrand because what else were you gonna do with him, Eragon, but on the other, yes, he’s flawed. Notably, there’s the moment of him killing Hrothgar, which I’ve discussed, his anger issues, his potential alcohol issues, and his general tendency to put himself first (which… yes, but also, he really doesn’t). Best thing about this, though, his his enormous potential for change, because we’ve already seen him change! And it saved the whole war! One tiny thing, one small moment of self reflection and realization—he changed himself, without any outside influence except for finding someone to care about. 

TL;DR Don’t insult my boy Murtagh. Come back when Kylo Ren gets some actual character development.

#started this post #had to look something up in Eragon #got sidetracked #placed a hot topic order #came back #got so fucking tired #please just. just don't compare my son to kyle #i really really hate k*l* r*n #what a dipshit. what a wasted opportunity. #everything after force awakens was a waste of brilliant character development opportunity #murtagh tornacsson #murtagh (inheritance cycle) #inheritance cycle #star wars #cw kylo ren #saph rambles #saph scribbles

[shelobussy]

How would you say Kris and Noelle's first kiss go?

Kris and Noelle are at the autumn festival when they have their first kiss.

Or wait, no, their first kiss is in kindergarten, on the playground. Berdly made Noelle cry and Kris pushed him and got in trouble and after school she gave them a quick peck on the lips and took off, embarrassed.

Their first real kiss happens during the autumn festival.

Being raised in a town that was mainly populated by monsters, Kris had never had the opportunity to celebrate halloween, but they hear its similar to the autumn festival.

People dress up, eat candy, go bobbing for apples, play pranks. It's a good time.

Susie has ideas this year.

"Dude, we should totally go as ourselves," she says, a few weeks before the festival. She's sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone lazily. Kris is trying to do their homework, but her constant snorts and laughs from whether she's texting Lancer about is a bit distracting.

They don't mind though. It's nice to have someone to waste time with.

Kris glances up, question written in their eyes.

Susie, used to reading Kris when they go nonverbal now, rolls over so she's lying on her stomach.

"You know. As like us us. From you know."

Kris rolls their eyes.

"Ugh, us from the dark kingdom, dipshit."

They offer her a deadpan look.

"Well if you knew what I meant why didn't you say so?"

Kris turns back to their assignment.

"Petty bitch. Are you down or not?"

And so Kris found themselves dressed in a fairly accurate replica of their own armor, nibbling on buttered pumpkin bread and trailing after Susie and Lancer and wishing Ralsei was here.

Kris understands that ruling the Dark Kingdom came with many responsibilities, but it didn't make them any less unhappy about it.

So Kris is being carted from stand to stand, watching bemusedly as Lancer and Susie try to out eat each other with every choice of food, when they come upon Noelle.

She looks lovely, as she always does, and it seems that Susie has convinced her to dress as her own Dark Kingdom counterpart, white robe and all. She beams at them all, and immediately sticks herself to Kris's side.

They all go on rides together and check out the haunted house and prank Berdly and it's the most fun Kris has had in forever.

The end of the night brings the hayride, which Susie and Lancer think is boring, so Kris agrees to go with Noelle because otherwise Berdly's gonna try and sit next to her and Noelle insist she'd rather have Kris.

Kris isn't sure if Noelle wants to hang out with them or just really hates Berdly, but they agree.

Full harvest moon and sipping apple cider, the two of them find their own corner of the wagon to pair off in. The ride is bumpy and the other teenagers are loud, but Noelle is pressed up against their shoulder and she smells like cinnamon and the apple cider she's drinking, so Kris doesn't mind.

One of the horses pulling the wagon freaks out a bit, and Kris gets dislodged and falls into Noelle's lap. They're still kind of...just there by the time the horse calms down, but now it's Kris freaking out because they're always awkward and weird around Noelle, and this definitely the most awkward and weird thing to happen in a while, but Noelle just giggles and suddenly presses a quick kiss to the tip of their nose and Kris-

Kris fucking blushes and lets out the most humiliating high pitched noise that attracts everyone's attention and then Noelle is blushing and the whole way back they aren't talking, aren't looking at each other, just sitting there in embarrassed silence.

But that wasn't a real kiss, no, the real kiss happens later when Kris and Noelle are waiting for their parents to pick them up and Susie and Lancer have already gone home. They're waiting on the curb, bags of candy in their hands and avoiding eye contact when Noelle suddenly apologizes.

"You're not mad at me right?" she says after, looking miserable. "I wasn't thinking, I just-I thought you were cute and-oh no I'm making it worse-"

Kris doesn't think they can blush harder than they are right now, it feels like their entire face is on fire and Noelle looks just as flustered, and Kris's mind is caught on an endless loop of I just thought you were cute and then suddenly they're throwing all caution into the wind and going for it as they stand up on tiptoe and press a gentle kiss onto Noelle's lips.

Noelle lets out a flustered squeak and Kris pulls away, absolutely sure that they just made things worse, but then Noelle leans in and they're really kissing and sure it's awkward, but Noelle and Kris are awkward so it's actually kind of normal for them, kind of nice, kind of something Kris wouldn't mind doing regularly.

Noelle's mom shows up and herds (ha) Noelle into the car, casting the two of them knowing looks. Noelle blushes one more time and says well, see you at school tomorrow just before she rolls the window up.

Kris sits on the corner for a couple of minutes, face still red. Their phone dings and they pull it out and it's from Susie. Attached is a picture of Kris and Noelle-

Kris whirls around and Lancer and Susie are there, grinning like idiots and Susie is saying things about Lancer owing them money and throwing halfhearted apologies at Kris about how they didn't exactly mean to spy on them, they were going to prank them but then Noelle and Kris got all gross and smoochy and Kris-

Well, they're feeling kind of warm inside, so they're letting this one go just this once.

Just this once though. And only because Noelle had looked so adorable when she said see you at school tomorrow and then looked away still blushing.

As far as first kisses went, Kris thinks they're doing pretty good.

#oop i did a fic #kriselle #kris dreemurr #noelle holiday #deltarune #my fic

[not-krys]

A Second Glance, Part 4 (Nobukatsu and Nobutaka)

Happy New Years (even though its February, whoops), I'm back to working on Second Glance again.

Still working on a direction to take the story and decided to see what would happen if I decided to develop the Nobu-Nephews a little more and... this is the progress I've made thus far.

Regular warnings: raw text, not edited. Nobukatsu is not... delicate with his language, to put it lightly, so warning for that. Also, several mentions of both brothers calling Hideyoshi some variant of monkey (bastard monkey, butt monkey, etc). They hate him, trust me, and take every opportunity to be mean about it (to each other, at least).

-----------

The bright, sunny morning did little to brighten the mood in the room. Two identical sets of carnelian eyes glared at each other, the fire of anger hotter than any swordsmith's forge. A low guttural growl broke the silence along with a cup slammed on the table, splashing steaming tea.

"Why did you interfere, Nobutaka?" snarled the scarred man before a poised man with long black hair tied in a low ponytail. "I almost had that bastard monkey! If you had just-"

"Murdering Hideyoshi was not part of the plan, Brother." Nobutaka said calmly, sipping his tea with furrowed eyebrows, "Our only goal in Azuchi was to capture the castle chatelaine. There was no need for bloodshed."

The scarred man, Nobukatsu Oda, huffed bitterly, running his hand through his short black hair.

"Why do you care so much about a castle's caretaker? What's so special about a wench that arranges flowers and sorts dainty napkins all day?"

"The fact that she was Uncle Nobunaga's chatelaine is the curiosity. He never had one before, and then she suddenly appeared, as if from the heavens one day."

"Maybe he was really impressed with her decorating skills," Nobukatsu said sarcastically.

"Maybe you should learn to pay more attention," Nobutaka steepled his fingers, his glasses' chain glittering in the sunlight. "Isn't it strange that a woman with no social standing or noble heritage suddenly has the attentions of not only Uncle Nobunaga, but his vassals and allies in Oshu and Mikawa? Even his enemies speak well of Uncle's castle caretaker. I find the matter quite intriguing."

"Are you really holding back on killing Hideyoshi just because of some woman you find 'intriguing'? That butt-monkey is still standing in our way of clan leadership, which is ridiculous because he's not a part of the Oda clan so he shouldn't be involved in *our* family matters, he's also the one stopping us from claiming what rightfully should be ours: Uncle Nobunaga's domain. What in the hells are you waiting for, dipshit?"

"To see what the monkey does."

"…the fuck?"

"Listen to me, Nobukatsu." He looked straight into his eyes. "The fact that Hideyoshi is stalling for time is also peculiar. He could take the domain for himself like a sensible person, reaping the benefits and no one would bat an eye. But, he hasn't. He also refuses to relinquish it to anyone, Oda or otherwise. So, if he doesn't want to hand Azuchi over to anyone nor does he take the rule for his own benefit, why is he sitting on his hands, wasting everyone's time?"

Nobukatsu was quiet, grumbling as he tried to process his younger brother's implications.

"He's… waiting for the chatelaine… to do something? Since you keep bringing her up, she has to be important for some reason."

"You're catching on." Nobutaka chuckled, "I'm impressed."

"Enough mind games, snot face. What are you getting at?"

"Again, Hideyoshi, as well as many others in Uncle's circle and outside of it, speak favorably about the castle Chatelaine. Hideyoshi refuses to move forward with surrendering Uncle's domain or taking it for himself. My theory is that the Chatelaine is carrying Uncle Nobunaga's child and that monkey is waiting to seize the child and name him as Uncle's posthumous heir."

"Wha-What gives that bastard the right to do that? He shouldn't interfere with-"

"Did I also mention that the chatelaine was named an Oda princess?"

"By who!?"

"Uncle Nobunaga, long before his unfortunate passing."

"But, she wasn't related to any of us. She didn't wed him or was a named mistress. Hells, Uncle Nobunaga was never married so he couldn't have mistresses to fool around with."

"How quaint of you," Nobutaka continued, "but rumors have spread regardless. Other nobles claim the chatelaine an Oda princess, but can never substantiate their claims, other than they heard that information from sources in Azuchi's castle, not from the clan itself."

"So, let me get this straight. You're saying that Uncle Nobunaga possibly knocked up his chatelaine and now Butt-Monkey Hideyoshi is gonna try and claim the brat as Uncle Nobunaga's heir after he's already dead because the chatelaine has some fake princess title?"

"That's my theory on the matter."

"It's bullshit."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"It's bullshit he thinks he can name some random bitch's accident as heir. Is there any proof the little punk's even Uncle Nobunaga's spawn? You did say the chatelaine was 'spoken of highly' in Uncle's circle. Could have screwed one of his vassals and claimed it was Uncle who did it. Could be Butt Monkey's kid for all we know."

"No one will know unless a child suddenly materializes, if my theory is correct."

Nobukatsu grumbled again, glancing out at the dripping icicles.

"So what do we do now, since you're so insistent about not killing the monkey."

"Right now, we wait to see how Hideyoshi responds to our little… message. Hopefully, he's not dead, no thanks to you."

"I still think he's better off dead than you doing this song and dance you keep doing. Easier that way."

"I'm trying to be civil, to go about things the right way. Unlike you who bludgeons his way into getting what he wants."

"At least I'm getting results while you sit on your ass drinking tea and playing Go all day. Heh, it's no wonder I'm twenty minutes older than you; you had to sit and think about being born before the midwife pulled you out."

"And you're a crude, boorish oaf who has no patience for anyone. You're a terrible general with a short temper as well."

"And you're lucky you're my brother, else I have half a mind to cut out that tongue of yours."

"And I feel so loved and appreciated in your presence, dear brother." Nobutaka stood, "now get out of my sight. Your entire existence disgusts me."

"Your face disgusts me."

"Your insults are as poor as your provinces."

"They're still bigger than yours."

"Get out of my castle before I throw you out myself."

"That, I'd like to see." Nobukatsu laughed, standing up, "Go ahead and throw me out, you weakling brat."

#krys's adventures in fanfiction #wip wednesday #a second glance #we getting somewhere #I don't know where we're going but it's somewhere #can I also mention that I wanted Katsu to call reader's future kid a variant on a baby monkey #in reference to the brothers thinking she might be a hoe #but a baby monkey is called an infant #since they are so closely related to humans #I was disappointed #no cute baby nicknames for Hideyoshi #no kit like Mitsuhide or cub from Masamune #sad #oh well

[st-hedge]

Omg my bad for not specifying, I meant ancient era but can I ask about both instead :o

Oh god. So how would I describe link and ganon’s relationship in the ancient and botw era... sorry if this goes off on a tangent

In the ancient era they fell for each other almost immediately (it’s sappy). They were each other’s ‘you are the presence that i need in my life, you are the patience, the calm, and the understanding, but also holy shit you are so attractive i could stare at you all day’. However, whereas ganon realised very quickly that his feelings are romantic toward link, link was just like ‘wow i have such a lovely caring friend!’ Why did link not realise? He didnt want to make assumptions, ganon was a bit too subtle, and perhaps link was not used to being on the receiving end of genuine affection. So while ganon was dealing with the fact that he would actually like to spend as much of his life as possible with this hylian dipshit, link is hopelessly oblivious. It took them a long long ass time to get on the same page and there were only a few giddy kisses before everything went to shit :( and i dont think link ever quite forgave himself for wasting so much time

So i think ancient era is a case of "I have so many ridiculous feelings for you but I've no idea how to tell you" and then they missed the window opportunity and will mourn it forever

In botw era it’s complicated. At first they are reluctant companions and lowkey frenemies. Firstly cuz link was still trying to convince himself that ganon is the enemy and that he shouldnt get so comfortable around him. Secondly cuz ganon is convinced he is over whatever happened between him and link and that he should just push him away to keep him safe. Then, cuz they end up spending so much time together and cuz they do admit to themselves that they find each other very attractive, they enjoy each other’s company, if u know what i mean, but dont see it as anything other than platonic. However the more this happens the more ganon realises that he has fallen for link again. It is different this time. But ganon wants to get to know link all over again. Link in turn finally admits to himself that he wants ganon to be beside him and not just as a friend, he is a presence that he missed at his side without knowing it and now link doesnt want to let go of ganon

So to summarise botw era: “you are the presence that has been missing from my life this whole time and now i will burn it all down if i ever lose you” and its mutual

#ask hedge #*sad noises*

[goldeneyedgirl]

Who’s ur favorite and least favorite twilight character and why?

LOL, oh man. Prepare for Discourse, Anon. 

My favourite character is Alice (that might be very obvious). I think she was wasted in Twilight, and that she has so much potential. 

She has no recollection of being human. She is a totally blank slate with a gift that is essentially an extra sense or limb. Like, this girl cannot be ‘okay’. I believe in my heart of hearts that Alice functions differently to other people. I mean, I infer from canon that her visions taught her everything that she needed to know - from how to feed, to how to convince Jasper, to how to join the Cullens. She’s going to get the wrong answer? She’ll change what she says!

And that is utterly fucking terrifying - especially if she was aware and doing it intentionally. But I do not think she is, in that sense. I just don’t think she would have any idea of how to live without her visions showing her what to do next. Alice is a hostage to her own gift, and always has been. 

Even her interactions with Bella and Edward in canon are really uncanny, like she’s playing a role - which is more reflective of SMeyer’s piss-poor writing ability than any sort of intention - but indicative that Alice is Not Okay, and kind of explains a lot about how the Cullen family is portrayed. 

A lot of what I love about Alice, and her relationship with Jasper, are things I’ve absorbed from fan-content - what we can infer from the information we’ve been given. Her conviction about her and Jasper, to me, is beautiful and both terribly childlike, and something someone who has suffered deeply would absolutely cling to as a lifeline. The idea that Jasper isn’t just her husband, but her very best friend and confidant as well, paints such a lovely picture of the symbiosis they have. I think that, whilst it’s normally Poised, Confident Alice to Rescue Struggling Depressed Jasper portrayed in fandom, that there is a distinctive possibility that two individuals who were both fucked over in the gift department and were holding onto reality by a strand found each other and rescued each other might be closer to the truth.

I also LOVE fashion, so I kind of get Alice on that level; and I treat Alice - when I write her - as someone with mental illness (like myself) because I find that very satisfying to write, and to explore. I can PROJECT, which is super fun.

Jasper’s a close second because holy moly, he has so much potential from a fic-writing perspective? This is a man who was not a good person as a human - like, there are Varying Reasons he would join the Confederate Army and be proud of being a Major, but that’s a TOTALLY different piece of discourse so we’ll put a pin in that because statistically, it meant he was a racist fighting for racist ideals. And THEN he is changed into a vampire and joins the Southern Wars, falling further into evil as far as violence, hate, and senseless death goes. 

Like this man was a full monster.

And it was eating him alive.

So he just walked away. Alice did not save him. Peter did not save him. Jasper walked away. Peter gave him the opportunity to do so. Alice offered him goals and a way to improve who he is. There’s nothing he can do about the evil he sowed, the legacy he has created. And he has to live with that every single day for eternity. Has to deal with the burn of his thirst, exacberated by years of gorging on human blood, every single day. There is no solution to/for Jasper. It’s one hell or another. And that is so much fun from a fic-writing perspective. 

Plus his dynamic with Maria is so crazy fun - Mother? Lover? General? What does ‘good terms’ even mean? I assume it’s code for ‘cold war’ or ‘not actively seeking the other’s destruction’, but who knows. I love that. 

Jessamine is also super fun and beloved by me, but that’s because she’s either Jasper-derivitive or my particular portrayal of a separate character, so she doesn’t count. 

As for my least favourite, that honour goes to Edward. Full disclosure, I have not read Midnight Sun, only skimmed parts, because the only thing worse than that would be reading EdBella fic. 

I think he’s an arrogant, misogynistic, controlling little brat, honestly. He’s above the rules and the laws when it suits him - at the cost to everyone - and he condemns Rosalie and Jasper so quickly and thoroughly with very little in-text justification. 

He says that Rosalie is vain - well, Captain Dipshit, maybe after being violently and fatally gang-raped by a group including her fiance Rosalie might deal with a lot of body issues - and copes with them the best way she can. Maybe after being raised with a priority of being beautiful above all else, and then harmed in such a grotesque way because of her beauty, and then becoming more beautiful might fuck with your mental health a little, Eddie.

Edward has a bad habit of classifying women in absolutes like Madonna/Whore, depending on his personal beliefs - which, as a frozen 17 year old from the 1900s, is fairly goddamn dubious. Rosalie and Tanya are both ‘bad’, Esme, Alice, and Bella are all ‘good’. But there are no women that Edward fully ‘trusts’ or allows to ‘win’/direct him. He prizes Bella because of her unreadable mind - she is a puzzle and something to possess. They are never partners. Edward uses Alice, Who Tries Her Very Best, as a weapon against Bella multiple times. I often wonder if it isn’t Edward who encourages Alice, off-page/off-screen, to play dress-ups, to make Bella into what Edward expects in a wife. 

Edward is over-indulged by both Esme and Carlisle; honestly, with his gift, I wouldn’t be surprised if he manipulates the family into their slightly toxic dynamic (it’s hard to tell because of SMeyer’s obvious bias, and the perspective of the novels) because it benefits him so much. It puts him second only to Carlisle - Jasper cannot be trusted despite his comprehensive understanding of vampires, especially when it comes to turf battles, and Emmett’s just a frat boy. Or is this the portrait Edward has painted so he gets to be #1 Son?

Edward is the goddamn architect of every disaster the Cullens face because what he wants is dangerous and illegal. Without Edward’s Volterra Tantrum, Aro never would have challenged the Cullens in Breaking Dawn. Victoria’s attack would have been neutralised before the Cullens even got wind of it. Bella never would have gone cliff-diving or solo-hiking if Edward hadn’t dumped her in the cruelest way possible. 

I honestly, truly believe that Edward shouldn’t have had a mate, let alone a wife and child. 

Also, movie!Edward looked like he needed a fucking shower and a flea dip in nearly every scene. 

Bella’s a close second because I have known girls like Bella and fuck me, they are deeply unpleasant to be friends with. She fucks over EVERYONE in pursuit of Edward. I understand that she doesn’t have the same interests as Alice, but not once just she make a suggestion for an alternative activity or a compromise (and that could be Bad Writing again, because Bella appears to have very few hobbies beyond ‘reading’ but it’s what we’re working with). 

In fact, I would argue that Alice tries her very best to be Bella’s friend, but it’s a futile attempt - Bella tolerates Alice because of Alice’s proximity to Edward. If Alice had been a human student at Forks High, you can bet that Bella would have dumped her as fast as possible. Bella has very few moments where she’s positive about the people around her outside of the Cullens (by association with Edward) or Jacob. Charlie gets mostly pity. Everyone else is looked upon with disapproval and judgement (which, again, reflects toxic writing tropes.) 

And Bella martyrs herself at every opportunity. There’s a lot of discourse where Bella’s neglectful childhood is examined, but Bella fucking lunges into the ‘victim’ role at every possibility. And ultimately, I really don’t see Bella maturing or learning anything at all through the series. It’s always about what she wants, above everything else. She succeeds because she and Edward are incredibly selfish individuals who are enabled by the parental figures around them. 

Second runner-up is Carlisle. 

#alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight discourse #twilight renaissance #bella swan #edward cullen #my thoughts #Anonymous

[oloreaa]

Alright you've put up with enough of my frog bullshit. So, I'd love to see a headcanon for Toro Pelican. Let's say he never stabbed Din in the back and instead helped bring the bounty in. What would he do with his cut of the funds?

Okay I've gone a bit off topic but I started writing and suddenly realised that there is a ton I could say about this so basically:

How Toro Calican was wasted potential in The Mandalorian

Okay I have a lot of thoughts about this particular episode and most of it boils down on how wasted his character was

Not in the sense of "they did a bad job" because I think that a young bright eyed upstart that ultimately failed because he got too cocky and too over his head is actually a GOOD narrative and probably way more realistic than what we usually see in Star Wars

So I'm completely okay with the way they killed Toro because it also shows that Din would absolutely kill for Grogu and highlights the deep bond between our main characters

But it's more in a sense of "they could have made this HILARIOUS" and I think they missed an opportunity with that

Because come on, it was absolutely brilliant to see how the older and more experienced Din was helping this kid who had taken a too difficult bounty, and their interactions were super funny

Just imagine if they actually kept him and Toro became like the annoying little brother to Din that he had to coach while Toro becomes a big protective brother for Grogu

Like all the potential they had, the positive male relationships between them, Din would need to keep that annoying kid in check but at the same time they would form a companionship

Come ON imagine the look on Cara's face like "who's this kid?" And Toro being like "Hi :D" while waving awkwardly and Din just sighs

I can also picture that if Toro sticked around on the Crest, we could have gotten amazing content between the three of them

Like him poking at Grogu and telling him "You're super ugly" and Grogu cooing in absolute indignation while Din sighs in tired dad and goes: "be nice to your brother"

And Toro actually becoming more humble and skilled? Becoming a better shot, becoming a truly dangerous bounty hunter all under the careful guidance of Din, just imagine all the family feels, with all the reoccurring themes of adoption

Especially with The Mandalorian being a family-oriented show, that kind of older/younger brother dynamic with Din, Toro and Grogu would have been absolutely FANTASTIC and there probably would have been even more hilarious content because both of them have no idea how to take care of a baby

So basically they all share a single brain cell and it's at Grogu's

If I was the writer I probably would have placed him with our favourite Clan of Two and have him die heroically at some point while protecting Grogu to get those Feels, not just. Dying like a dipshit

And this is just the one possibility of how this could have gone!!

Another way could be that he becomes the redeemed mechanic that is employed by Peli to work off his debt of "almost kriffing killing me", forming an actual relationship with her

Imagine tiny Peli who just whacks him upside the head when he does something exceedingly stupid and scolding him with her sharp tongue and vicious tone

Definitely some tough love there but the second anyone says something about her stupid adopted nephew she will rain hell on that person

Peli would definitely call him rat boy just saying

Also Toro would probably became good friends with the DUM droids in the hangar, repairing them when they break and playing games with them during their downtime

Like he would walk around and there would definitely be one of them, sitting on his shoulder, chirping away at him

Just thinking about how Toro might actually make himself a (positive) name around Mos Eisley and become a trusted mechanic on Tatooine, eventually taking Peli's place in the future

Imagine Peli teaching him how to gamble and he becomes wicked at it, absolutely glowing when she tells him "good job" with a crooked smile, gently slapping his cheek as she says "but sixty percent of your earnings are mine"

Anyways, I firmly believe that they could have made Toro into a beloved main to side character that would have contributed a lot to the found family theme that is the core of The Mandalorian

#and NO this is NOT me simping for him these are just facts people #the mandalorian #toro calican #star wars #meta #headcanons

[mermaidssonshipss]

exile

warnings: angst, a few mentions of drug use and alcohol, anxiety.

pairings: rudy pankow x reader

word count: 3,444

loosely based around “exile” by taylor swift

For as long as you could remember, Rudy had been your best friend. The two of you were inseparable, your small town in Alaska keeping you sheltered and locked away from anything that could possibly disturb your friendship. Until Rudy decided to move to LA. You had been happy for him of course, wanting nothing but for him to be happy, but your heart had shattered the day he left, knowing you were going to lose your best friend. For the first few months, the communication was constant. Your phone was glued to your hand at all times, and text messages passed between you two 24/7, the nights ending with FaceTimes. Soon though, the texts slowed, and the FaceTimes became less frequent. Eventually, there were no texts, and no FaceTimes. He stopped reaching out to you, and you stopped reaching out to him. A month before he was supposed to visit for the first time since he’d left, you had had a full blown panic attack and booked a random flight to stay with a friend who was in NYC for the time he was back in Alaska. It had been two years since he’d left, and a year since you’d spoken. You had gotten a text from his mom the day before he came back, asking you to come to his welcome home get-together. The text went ignored, which you felt bad about as she had done nothing to you, but you knew she’d invite your parents and they’d tell her you were in New York.

Another year had passed, and Outer Banks had been released a few months ago. You saw Rudy’s face everywhere, and every time you wanted to scream. He looked good, better than he did when he left, and he looked happy. He had visited a few more times, and each time you managed to get yourself out of town for the time being. Not once had he reached out to you, asking you how you were doing or where you were, so you figured he didn’t care, what was the point of being there?

You were currently out on your dads docked boat, lying down on the hood as a joint dangled between your lips, the smoke swirling through your nostrils as you inhaled and blew it out. In 2 months, you were going to be moving to California. A job opportunity had presented itself, and you couldn’t pass it up. The pay was more than you could’ve ever even dreamed of, and they were paying for your apartment the first year while you got settled. It was perfect, and you figured California was big enough, you wouldn’t run into Rudy. The last few months you had spent your nights on your dads boat in the same spot, smoking until you couldn’t feel anything, until you were numb. It had been 3 fucking years and you were still pissed about Rudy leaving you, and you had been filling the void with drugs, alcohol, and meaningless sex the past 2 years. Before, you always had Rudy to stop you from drinking too much, or smoking too much weed, and he always interfered when you tried to take a random guy home. Now that he wasn’t here, you didn’t care. You let out a loud groan before sitting up and tossing the joint into the water, stumbling slightly as you stood up and made your way off the boat, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jean short shorts. As you stepped onto the dock, you remembered you had left your shirt on the boat, but seeing as you were covered by a red bikini top, you decided you were too lazy to climb back up and find the shirt.

It was around 12pm when you made your way into your friend Jills home, the house full to the brim with people you had grown up with. You sent smiles there way as they called your name, beckoning you to their groups, but you kept walking, trying to find Jill. 

Eventually, you spotted the faux blonde leaning against a beer pong table, a red solo cup in her hand as she cheered her boyfriend on. When she saw you, her eyes grew wide and she raced over to you.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” She asked, her words slightly slurred as she stumbled into you slightly.

“You invited me, dipshit.” You responded dryly, reaching your hands out and steadying her.

“I knooooooow,” she scoffed, her hand landing on your head, just resting there, “But you’re always out of town whenever Rudy comes into town. I didn’t expect you to be here,” she was patting your head now, playing with strands of your hair in the process.

“Rudy isn’t in town,” you were confused as you batted her hand away, and she let out a loud laugh.

“Yes he is, silly. He’s over there,” she pointed behind you and you turned around, expecting to see someone who resembled Rudy that Jill had drunkly mistaken for him, but instead you saw him. He was leaning against the wall opposite you, a red hat like the one he wore on Outer Banks resting on top of his blonde hair, and he was watching you. 

“Fuck,” you snapped, turning around quickly as you stared at Jill like a deer caught in headlights.

“I think I was supposed to tell you...oops...” she giggled, waving over at Rudy and you slapped her hands down, panic rising in your throat as you shook your head at the wasted girl in front of you. You heard his voice behind you, and you closed your eyes tightly, your fists tightening before you relaxed the muscles and turned around to face him. He was stood in front of you, his blue eyes trained on your face.

“Hi. Bye.” You chirped quickly, pushing around Jill as your feet raced through the packed home. 

As your dirty converse hit the street, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, tears beginning to spill down your freckled cheeks. You pushed yourself to keep walking, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to breathe. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him? He had promised you when he left that you would remain best friends, but after a year of being gone, he had forgotten about you. He had let your friendship go. You meant nothing to him clearly, and he had meant everything to you. 

You forced your key into the lock of your apartment door, slamming the door shut as you leaned against it, your body sliding down to the floor. Your breaths were shallow, air forcing it’s way out of your lungs in quick bursts as you struggled to breathe it in. The walls around you felt like they were closing in around you. Your vision was blurry, tears falling freely as they stained your cheeks with your mascara. The panic attacks had begun a year into Rudy leaving, when he had stopped replying. Thoughts swirled through your mind 24/7, screaming at you that you weren’t enough. That you never made him happy, and he had only been friends with you because he felt bad for you. It had been a couple months since your last attack, but seeing Rudy tonight brought everything back. You felt worthless.

***

You felt like shit. You had fallen asleep on the hardwood floor by your front door, your eyes crusting over from the mix of your tears and mascara. It had been a feat to push yourself off of the floor and stumble into your bathroom, stripping your clothes off and forcing your aching figure into the shower. 

Once you had dried off, throwing your hair up into a messy bun, you slipped on a simple white sundress that hung a few inches above your knees. You were pacing your living room currently, your phone in your hand as you scrolled through social media, seeing everyone that was in town posting photos with Rudy from the party last night, congratulating him on Outer Banks. You had texted Jill, asking her how long he was going to be in town for, but she had said she had no idea. The thought of once again booking a last minute flight and getting the hell out of here crossed your mind, but as you looked up flights that ran thousands of dollars, you decided against it, just settling for staying locked up in your apartment for the foreseeable future. 

The TV was on and you were looking at it, but you weren’t paying attention to what was on the screen as you sat on your couch. Your eyes lingered on the glass of whiskey in front of you on your coffee table that had been left over from the day before, but just as you went to grab it, your phone dinged.

Unknown number: i think we need to talk.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you scanned the text, but before you could respond asking who it was, another text came through.

Unknown number: meet me at the spot. you know the one. in an hour.

Your stomach flipped as you read the words, realizing that somehow, Rudy had gotten your number. About 6 months ago, you had changed your number, an ex boyfriend of yours had been blowing up your phone for weeks, and you were tried of just deleting the texts.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, tossing your phone across the couch as you let out a distressed sigh, throwing your body back onto the couch.

Talking to Rudy was the last thing you wanted to do, but you also wanted answers, you just weren’t sure you were ready to hear what he had to say. You weren’t ready to actually hear him say you weren’t good enough, that you had meant nothing.

***

The leaves that had fallen from the tall trees surrounding you crunched under your old, white converse, your eyes trained forward as you pushed through the branches. Soon, you found the clearing Rudy had been talking about, and you were met with his back facing you as he stood near the edge, looking out at the trees across the lake. His head snapped towards you when he heard your feet come to a stop at a distance, a branch snapping having given your presence away.

You’d both had your first kiss here, right at the edge, when you were 12 and he was 13. It had become a joke between you two that one day you’d both just get tired of it and kiss each other, getting the first kiss nightmares out of the way, until one day, Rudy had actually done it. He had been looking at you as you collected branches, trying to start a small fire in the clearing to warm you up, and you had snapped at him to get off his ass and actually help. Instead of helping, he had stormed over to you and kissed you. Nothing came of the kiss, you two remained best friends, but you had always held it close to your heart. Through the years, you two had your own relationships, but for some reason they always ended for one reason or another, and you two would end up back at this clearing, stolen alcohol and weed tainting your breath, and secret kisses were always shared.

“You look good,” his voice was deeper than you remembered it being when he spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I feel like shit,” you replied, venom lacing your words as you finally met his gaze. He looked sad as he watched you, his arms crossed across his chest as he bit at his bottom lip nervously. 

“How have things been?” he was desperately trying to grasp onto a conversation, but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t know. My best friend stopped talking to me 2 years ago and threw me away like I was nothing when he promised he wouldn’t, but ya know. Other than that, just peachy,” your cheeks were burning red as you spoke, your fists clenching at your sides, and his eyes widened.

“What?” He looked shocked, and all you could do was let out a scoff as you rolled your eyes, “I didn’t fucking throw you away,” he was angry now as he took a step closer to you, and you were taken aback for a moment. You’d only seen Rudy angry a few times in your friendship, and it had never been directed at you, “You... you told me you didn’t want anything to do with me!” He was shouting at you now, the veins in his neck popping out against his skin.

“Oh that’s fucking bullshit,” your tone matched his and you let out an incredulous laugh before continuing, “You stopped texting me! You stopped FaceTiming me! It just.. stopped!”

“BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO!” He was standing in your face now, his face red as he screamed at the top of his lungs, his words echoing around the two of you, “I still have the fucking text,” he rushed, reaching into his pocket as he grabbed his phone. You could see him scrolling through his messages before he came upon your name, and he showed you the screen. You could see a text bubble from you, and multiple text bubbles under it that Rudy had sent, but each of them had the red warning sign, signaling they hadn’t gone through.

Y/N: Don’t ever text me again, and I mean it. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be friends anymore, I never really wanted to be friends, I just felt like I had to stay. 

As you read the words, you felt like you were going to throw up. You had never sent the text, nor had you ever blocked Rudy’s number, meaning there was no reason for his texts to not have gone through.

“I... Rudy I didn’t send that...” you were breathless as you spoke, tears welling up in your eyes as you continued to stare at the texts in front of you. Rudy had sent multiple texts back, begging you to explain what happened, begging you to stay.

And that’s when it hit you.

Connor. Your ex boyfriend, the reason you had to change your phone number. You couldn’t breathe as you looked at Rudy, his face blurry as you looked at him through tears. Connor had made it clear from the beginning he didn’t like Rudy, but you had always assured him there was nothing to worry about. Rudy was in California, for gods sake, but clearly that wasn’t enough. 

Rudy was silent as he watched you, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know if he should believe you, or if you were lying to him. 

You frantically pulled your phone from the pocket of your dress, opening it and looking up Rudys name in your contacts. You clicked on it, and your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled down and confirmed his number wasn’t blocked. And then you saw the actual number that was entered, and your stomach felt like it had been twisted and ripped out. The first 3 numbers of his number had been changed to a simple 555, meaning when you texted it, it wouldn’t go through, looking as if you had been blocked. You opened the settings on your phone, scrolling down to your blocked list, and there, on the very bottom, right above your ex’s number, was Rudy’s real number. Your eyes met Rudy’s, his already on you, and you could see a few tears had begun collecting on his cheek.

“Rudy... he... Connor... he sent that text. He changed your number and blocked your real number and I didn’t... I didn’t know I never thought to check I thought you had me blocked,” you lifted your phone, showing him all your own undelivered messages as you rushed the words out of your mouth.

“Then why were you never here when I came home? The first time I came back, your house was the first place I went. But you had left. And then the next time, you were gone, and after that,” he looked hurt as he shook his head, stepping back from you and turning back to the view over the cliff.

“I was hurt, Rudy. I thought.. I thought you had brushed me off. I thought you had finally realized I wasn’t good enough, that you didn’t want me around, and it fucking hurt. I didn’t want to see you when you came back and be reminded that I wasn’t enough for you to stay,” your voice was quite as you spoke, only loud enough for Rudy to hear, and as the wind carried your words through the air, Rudy was now the one who felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You were my best friend, y/n,” he was facing you again, his hand reaching out and resting on your cheek, wiping a tear that had fallen, “God... I was in love with you. So fucking in love with you. What do you mean not good enough? How could you ever think that? I asked you to move to California and stay with me, but you sent that text in response. I missed you so fucking much it hurt. I knew you had a boyfriend, but he was a total tool, I could tell that just by looking at his instagram, and I could tell you weren’t really into him, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you. And then I got that text and I thought I had fucked everything up,” he was freely crying now, and your hands were gripping onto his shirt tightly as you leaned your cheek into his hand.

“Fuck Rudy, I’m so sorry. I was with Connor that night and he must have seen it when I went to the bathroom,” you were struggling to speak, hiccuping here and there as you cried, and Rudy’s other arm had wrapped around your waist, “I would’ve done it. I would’ve moved to California the next day. You’re right. I wasn’t that into him. He was just a distraction from how much I missed you. How I was so in love with you and nobody else could ever replace you.”

Rudy rested his forehead against yours, both of you just looking at one another. For two years, both of you had been under the impression that you had been exiled from the others life. Unwanted. Broken. But as you looked into Rudy’s eyes, his arm wrapped around you and holding onto you for dear life, the broken pieces slowly began to click back together.

***

“Dude, what is in this box?” the heavy box in Rudy’s hand was dropped onto the ground, loudly banging against the hardwood floor beneath him as he wiped the sweat that had collected from his forehead.

“I don’t know, but don’t just... drop my stuff,” you glared, walking past him with a box of your own in your hold, placing it down gently on Rudy’s kitchen table.

3 months. It had been 3 months since the two of you met in the forest, both of you finally realizing what had actually happened. At first, things were tough. Both of you were dealing with your own issues due to what happened, and unfortunately those feelings don’t just go away, even if what had caused them wasn’t what they had thought. But now, you two were solid as a rock. When you told him you were moving to California for a job opportunity, he had almost screamed in excitement, immediately telling you to move into his place. After some research regarding where your work was located and finding out it was only 10 minutes away from Rudy’s place, you agreed. 

You were going through the box you’d just placed down when Rudy came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You tilted your head, placing a soft kiss on the side of his forehead before returning your attention back to the contents in front of you. He sighed, squeezing you tightly as he dragged you away from the table slightly, signaling he wanted attention. 

“I need to unpaaaack,” you whined, letting out a laugh as he turned your body to face him, a pout on his plump lips, his arms still latched around you.

“Unpack later, kiss me now,” he smiled, placing his lips on top of yours, and you melted into his embrace.

You could unpack later.

#rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow imagine #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine

[tansypoisoning]

(Un)Conditional - Part 1

Truce

You didn’t remember how or why you found yourself in Ransom’s bed in the first place, but now, poor, pregnant and desperate, you had your reasons for putting up with him, and they weren’t noble. His reasons for staying with you weren’t noble either.

   Me  🤝  The Reader Insert     making stupid decisions

In which the reader is pregnant with Ransom’s baby and he sees that as an opportunity for personal enrichment. Big changes to the original plot, but Idk where this is going, so stay tuned for my brain farts, and I accept suggestions (Ransom redemption arc? Or should I make him even shittier? I haven’t decided yet!). I still want to have Benoit Blanc in the story somehow, because he’s my jam, my jelly, my peanut butter and my peanuts. This chapter is safe for anyone who hasn’t watched the movie but THERE WILL BE SPOILERS in the future.

 Chapter 2 - I Came Out to Have a Good Time and I’m Honestly Feeling So Attacked Right Now

Fandoms: Knives Out

Genre: *surprised Pikachu face*

Ships: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Smut, some light choking, some daddy kink, mentions of past sexual assault, talk of abortion, unhealthy relationships, Ransom is an asshole, a fuckboy and also verbally abusive tbh.

You were such an idiot.

Many were the times you had come home after terrible dates, or left parties in your friends’ arms after a guy tried to finger-bang you when you were passed out on the couch, and yet you still let your guard down around men you knew to be assholes. You could always tell; you weren’t sure whether it was thanks to familiarity ,or if you had a knack for reading people, but you still let terrible men in when you knew them to be terrible. Bad habits, hard to break, yadda yadda yadda. All that made for piss poor comfort when you looked at the five little plastics sticks in front of you.

Feet tapping against the ground and your phone held in between your cheek and shoulder, you typed on your laptop. Planned Parenthood. You should’ve done this sooner, way sooner, when you could get an IUD, or the pill, or the shot, or whatever the fuck else, instead of trusting your reliably unreliable partners and your nonexistent backbone. Birth control was expensive, but it was nowhere near as expensive as a baby, and you were going to get the same amount of help with either, which was to say, none.

No… That wasn’t quite true. Your brother and your friends would pitch in if you asked, you knew, but, as previously established, you were an idiot.

You knew there were people who loved you and would support you no matter what, but you didn’t want to burden them with your problems. This mess was on you, on you and…

Mailbox. Of course he didn’t pick up. He got what he wanted from you, and was now moving on to another woman who was equally as gullible and equally as “passable” as you. You couldn't believe his negging had worked on you, you were so fucked.

Deep breathes. It wasn’t over yet, you could fix this. The… the thing was still only two months, you could get rid of it, with a pill, even. But should you?

You tossed your phone to the side and opened another tab. Fetus two months. You clicked the first result that mentioned the development of the thing growing inside you and read the section entitled “Baby”. Internal organs already in place… wiggling and waving like mad? Distinct facial features?!

Your hands found their way to your mouth as a sob found its way past your lips. No way. This was some forced-birther propaganda, it had to be.

You left that shitty website and opened usually trustworthy Wikipedia, but it was of no help. It didn’t exactly contradict the information the other website had given you – the difference between “waving” and “twitches” was negligible to your addled brain.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than it was wise. You stood and began pacing, one hand over your face and another resting on your abdomen. It was just your luck to have your eggs dodge the sperm of every jerk you could get to pay child support, only for you to end up carrying the Antichrist – and the Devil could afford the best lawyers.

Damned be the day you let Hugh RaNsOm Drysdale in your bed without a condom, and damned be you for being so fucking stupid. You deserved whatever suffering that came from this, and you could accept them with some grace if it didn’t feel like you were dragging an innocent along with you.

You stopped and looked down at the row of pregnancy tests arranged over the bathroom counter, all of them positive. You couldn't do this. You regretted that one night of meaningless sex more than you regretted anything in your life, and maybe you’d regret your current decision even more but you couldn't do the thing you knew you should do.

You swiped all the tests into your arms and dumped them in your bag. You grabbed your keys and walked out of your pitiful apartment and into your pitiful car. You had barely enough money to take care of yourself, let alone a child. Abortion could be the best thing you could do as a mother, but…

You pushed the keys into the ignition and shook your head. You were emotional, that was all. If you just gave yourself a little more time you’d stop thinking of it as more than the parasite it actually was, but for now… For now you needed to get things straight with the sperm donor, no matter how much it could hurt, and you were under no illusions – it would hurt like a motherfucker.

You had been in Ransom’s unfairly cool house a grand total of three times. He didn’t like having you over, much preferring fucking at your house even if he turned up his nose at the building and everything inside it. Maybe he didn’t like having to disinfect his furniture every time it got into contact with your poor people germs.

Yeah, like he cleaned anything.

You parked in front of the contemporary building and made your way to the front door, ringing the bell four times because Ransom never answered when people rang only once or twice, and then another because you were filled with dread, and manic energy, and the powerful desire to punch him in his perfect face until it wasn’t quite so perfect anymore.

You waited several minutes but there was no answer. It wasn’t surprising; if he was inside you’d have seen him through one of the outrageously large windows that covered almost every wall of the house.

You sat down on the steps to the entrance and pulled out your phone. You were done with work for the day, and you weren’t sure when he would want to pick up your calls again. You could wait.

And wait you did.

It was two in the morning when Ransom’s BMW pulled up in front of the building, activating the motion sensor lights. He walked out of the car with the confidence of a man who knew he owned everything he surveyed.

Fucking dipshit.

“Wow,” he laughed, opening his arms then dropping them to his side again, lest he appear too inviting. “You want it bad.”

You started rummaging through your bag for the pregnancy test as not to waste your time with pointless conversation. That should tell him everything you wanted to say.

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood today,” he said pulling his keys from his stupid suede coat only he could make look hot “long day, you know how it is. You can suck my cock and stay over, if you want.”

He had unlocked the door and was nudging you with his foot when you found what you were looking for and got up with a jump.

You waved the stick in the air victoriously. Even though you were the one who was the worst off in this scenario, you could at least use the source of your misery to wipe the smirk off his dumb, gorgeous face.

Done and did. Once Ransom caught on, the corner of his mouth dropped, free falling. Your life had been thrown in disarray, and the medical bills, if you chose to keep the thing, would ensure you would end up homeless in a couple of months, but at least you could rejoice in the fact you had ruined his eternal party in a spectacular fashion.

“What do you want?” He snarled. “Can’t pay the abortion? How much is it?”

You recoiled as if he had just swung a knife in your direction. This was new. You’d seen him angry before, sure, but this… the curl of his lips, the look in his eyes– it had you second guessing your decision to come see him.

You struggled to find your voice for a few seconds “I don’t… I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.”

Regret pierced you through like a lance. You knew he didn’t care about you – he didn’t “do monogamy”, he never asked you about your day, it was a struggle to get him to even buy you a coffee, and he only bothered to make you come if he could use it to feed his pride somehow – but all his disinterest in your well-being was nothing compared to the loathing radiating from him, like you were a fat dying cockroach stuck to the bottom of his nice leather shoes.

There was no reason Ransom should be able to make you feel like that. He was an absolute shitheel, a trust-fund baby who had never had a job in his life, never worked to build anything, and didn’t even have the decency to be thankful to his family for all they had done for him, and you didn’t even like him (conceding that he was attractive and you were a masochist was not the same as liking), so his opinion shouldn’t matter to you, someone with a stable source of income and an ounce of moral fiber. That didn’t stop you from writhing under his gaze.

“Get in,” he said, voice devoid of anything that could be considered charming.

You entered, waiting at the side, in fear of walking past the foyer without invitation, while he locked the door behind him.

He walked by you and went right to the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes, watched him grab a glass, fill it with water and down it. He didn’t offer you anything – you figured he didn’t think you deserved it.

“You’re suggesting it’s mine.”

His words startled you from your stupor, and you shook in your spot by the entrance before answering. “I know it’s yours. I haven’t slept with anyone else in almost a year.”

“And you are saying that.”

You bristled at his insinuation. “We can get a paternity test, if you want.”

Ransom lifted his head and inhaled sharply. He paced the length of his high end, open concept, immaculate-because-it-was-never-used kitchen, then opened a drawer, pausing to look up at you, closed it, then moved to the next and repeating the process several more times, while you shifted from one foot to the other.

“Here’s the thing, honey,” he said, and the last word was said with anything but sweetness “I’ll pay for the abortion, and I’ll pay for you to have the abortion. If you’re not gonna do it, then I don’t want to see your dog face again.”

You knew Ransom didn’t like kids – he despised them, even – but you didn’t think he’d react quite this badly. You knew he would want nothing to do with it, but you still thought telling him was the right thing to do. He deserved to know at least, surely.

The feeling you got when he first turned on you that night was a sign; you shouldn’t have come.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered.

Ransom’s cheeks were red and wide, and it seemed as if he was about to argue when he slammed his hand against the counter then stomped towards you.

You shrunk in on yourself, but you needn’t have. He just unlocked the door and pulled it open, holding it for you to walk through. His breathing was heavy and his shoulders were tense, like he was holding himself back.

Once you had rallied your strength and crossed the threshold, you heard your name being called behind you. You turned to see Ransom, still glaring at you with the same awful expression. You couldn't imagine what he had to tell you that hadn’t already been said.

“If you try contacting me again, you’re fucked.”

And then he slammed the door in your face.

You made your way to your car, head hanging low. That had been a disaster, but at least he made it easier for you to choose one of the options.

Fucking dipshit.

You had been right; time had given you helped you think things over.

Three days later and you could refer to the fetus as a fetus without going down a depressive spiral, and the thought of abortion was more palatable to you. In a couple more days you were certain you’d be able to walk into Planned Parenthood with your head held high, get your pill, and walk out, facing the world and the potential crowds of angry protesters with confidence, then move on with your life, promising never to get involved with another shitty guy again. The scare would be enough to make you change your ways, you were sure.

You didn’t want a kid, at least not yet. You were young, living paycheck to paycheck, and any child you had right now would grow up without a father. You were still mulling it over but abortion seemed like the most responsible choice, and if you couldn't make the responsible choice now, you’d make for a terrible mother in the future.

A knock on the door made you look up at the clock. Fifteen past eleven. Maybe the old lady who lived across the hall from you needed help killing a bug or something. You stood, pulled the latch off and unlocked the door, not thinking much of it, and almost walked face first into a hard body you were far too familiar with.

Ransom was there, waiting for you, his face inscrutable. His chest was heaving, and some serious heat emanated from it. You had the urge to hug his waist and burrow into his warmth, but you resisted it bravely. You’d promised yourself you would stop chasing men like him, and you intended on keeping that promise.

“Ransom,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice even.

A flash of pain roamed his face, and then he was putting his hands on you, holding the side of your face in his large palms. You opened your mouth to scream, but the sound was muffled between your lips and his.

A kiss. Ransom was kissing you – and a second ago you were so sure he was paying you a visit just to beat you up.

He maneuvered you into your apartment, still cradling your cheeks with surprising gentleness. You knew you should’ve stopped him, but your feet followed his steps with such ease, and he was so fucking warm and you living room so cold.

As one of his hands slid from your face to the back of your neck, something inside you screamed. It told you to stop now or it would be too late, and you’d fall into the same old hole and not be able to crawl out of it. You surprised yourself by listening to it and pulling away, pushing on his chest to keep a good distance between you. You told yourself you were doing well, even though you were holding onto his white shirt like a lifeline and arching your body into his.

“Ransom, wha-” your words were cut off by another kiss, more heated than the previous.

He pushed you down onto your couch -  the creaky old thing he always complained about – and climbed on top of you you, forcing you both into a laying position.

When Ransom pulled away (only to immediately latch his lips to your earlobe) you made to question him before the weakest part of yourself could convince you to just let it happen. It was she who had gotten you into this mess in the first place. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He mumbled against your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you huffed, twisting your body beneath him in a half-assed attempt to buck him off “You told me to never contact you again. Why are you here?”

He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that had your very core thrumming. He removed his hands from you and pushed himself up by the forearms to look down at you. When you saw his smirk, you knew you were going to end up having sex with him no matter what he said next.

“I guess I couldn't keep away.”

And with that he went right back to his station, sucking and nibbling on the spot just behind your ear and running his hand across your waist and belly.

But what about the baby? What about whether you wanted to keep it or not? These questions were lodged in your throat, dying to burst out, but you didn’t want to to ruin this moment. You were so tired; you just wanted to be held, and Ransom was willing to do that for you, so what was the harm in giving in?

You lifted a leg and wrapped it around his thigh, and that Ransom took as acquiescence or defeat. He pulled away to lift your shirt above your breasts and wasted no time diving for them, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth and squeezing the other in between his fingers. You planted your feet on the couch and used them as leverage push your crotch upwards and rub it against his. He was a terrible person, you knew, but he could fuck you so good when he wanted to, and right now you only had the brain space to care about one of those things.

Your hips rocked in tandem with his, driving you closer to that edge you didn’t know you were yearning for until you saw him standing on your doorstep. Entangled in his arms, you remembered your older brother’s words from that night some ten years ago when you were lying on the backseat of his car, a plastic bag filled with your vomit clutched in your hands. You saw his eyes in the rear view mirror, crinkling in a smile that was equal parts amused and concerned.

A pretty boy is going to be the end of you, huh?

Ransom pushed himself into a kneeling position, removed his dark cardigan and tossed it to some forgotten corner of your living room, his shirt receiving the same treatment soon after. For someone who was so averse to working, he sure didn’t skimp on his work outs. He was built like a god, but his smile was that of the devil.

He crashed down on top of you, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him. You sunk both hands in his perfectly coiffed hair and dragged him up until you were staring into his baby blue eyes. He leaned down to kiss you, and you obliged him. His mouth devoured your own while his hands roamed your body, hungry, desperate almost. You didn’t want to be outdone, both because he was an asshole and you didn’t want to lose to him, and because you were as starved of him as he seemed to be of you, so you wrapped both legs around his waist to pull yourself even closer to him, as close as you could get.

Ransom’s hands abandoned your body in favor of his belt, unbuckling it to shove his pants just past his upper thighs. His eyes were pointed, telling you he expected you to follow his lead. You undid your buttons with heavy fingers, and allowed him to pull your bottoms all the way off. His grin grew in size and insolence when he saw your panties were soaked through.

“You do want it bad.”

Fucking dipshit.

Before you could think of something smarter to say, he was dragging your underwear to the side and spreading your folds. You certainly weren’t going to think of a comeback now, with his fingers up your cunt and your body begging for his attention. You wouldn’t be this aroused with any other man, but you already knew you suffered from a serious case of tastelessness and dumb. Most grievously, it appeared to be terminal.

Ransom stoked the fires inside you with one hand, pulling it out periodically to smear the wetness across your lower lips while he held himself aloft with the other, his usual lazy, confident smile plastered on his face. It made a sudden wave of lucidity wash over you.

What the fuck were you doing? You knew he wasn’t worth your time since the day you met him; Three days ago he had treated you like shit after you told him you were pregnant; Just a few minutes before you were determined not to get involved with him or men like him ever again. All the signs told you to stop now, push him away and tell him to get out under threat of you calling the police, and yet here you were, panting under him and dying to feel his cock stretching you. The mere promise of dick had you going back on your word like a rat, and all you did was make excuses for yourself. You were always too weak or too dumb to resist your urges, weren’t you? That’s why you never bothered trying.

“Wai-”

The air was forcibly expelled from your lungs when his cock entered you. He wasn’t gentle, and he didn’t have to be; your body was more than ready for him. The grunt that came fro you had an air of finality to it. You weren’t going to stop him now.

The screaming part of you let out one final screech, then withered and died.

Ransom panted, rolling his hips against yours. You held onto his arms and looked up at him. This was unusual. Normally he’d be pounding into you when you were this slick, and unusual with Ransom tended to mean ‘bad’.

He brought two wet fingers to your face and tapped your chin with them.

“Get me clean.”

You parted your lips and accepted the appendages into your mouth. Nothing unusual there; he’d made you taste yourself on his fingers a couple of times. He liked to watch you lick them clean, but this was different. His smile was strained and his eyes looked past you. You turned the full powerful of your best puppy impression on him, but he still seemed to be half-there half-somewhere else.

Once you had slurped all your juices and then some, Ransom moved both his hands to your arms, pressing you against the hard surface of the couch. He should’ve started fucking you already, but he only rocked his pelvis side to side, giving you just a hint of friction, nowhere near enough to satisfy you.

You whined and bucked your hips upwards. That got him out of his trance, his eyes regaining their shine and his smile splitting into a grin. There was that asshole you knew and didn’t love.

“What’s with that face?” He asked and moved one of his hands to your neck, applying pressure, not enough to compromise your breathing but enough to leave you light-headed for a different reason “You want something?”

“Ransom,” you clawed at his forearm like you could do anything if he chose to choke you.

“You gotta ask, baby. If you want daddy to fuck you, you gotta ask.”

Your fingers stilled around his arm. The daddy thing was not new either, but you didn’t think he’d bring it up under the present circumstances. Was this intentional, or was he not even aware of what he was saying? Were you wrong to think it was weird for him to say that now?

The fingers around your throat tightened, closing your airway for a moment, then releasing.

“Ask.”

You squirmed, tapping on his arm, but all that got you was another squeeze.

“Please,” you whimpered “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

Ransom’s grin grew even wider, wide enough that light reflected off his canines. He adjusted his position on his knees, and took his other hand from your arm, reaching behind your head to pull you by the hair, further exposing your neck to him.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered against the top of your head.

He pulled his cock almost all the way out, then slammed back inside you. He pushed into you with shallow thrusts until he tapped a spot that made you gasp. Having found what he was looking for, Ransom diverted most of his attentions to hitting his target over and over again, periodically stopping to grind against it in a torturous slow pace.

You were too aroused to last much longer, and the bastard would be able to finish you off with little effort.

“You close, baby? You wanna cum?” He asked, and you nodded emphatically “Then you gotta do what daddy says. Can you do that?”

God, you’d do anything he asked of you at this point. Someone needed to tattoo ‘Sucker’ on your forehead already.

“Yes, daddy!” You cried, your words devolving into a high-pitched whine “I’ll do anything, please!”

The hand in your neck slid down across your body and delved in between your legs in search of your clit. You squealed when his fingers made contact, and whimpered when they began rubbing. You were aware of your trembling legs, but unable to do anything about them.

Ransom could always dismantle you with ease, but now more so than ever. You came in record time, with short little moans that culminated in an embarrassing howl. You were just coming down from your high when he picked up his pace, grunting and huffing above you. He gave you no warning before spilling into you, swaying back and forth and groaning as his own orgasm ebbed away. The fact that this was the least concerning thing he’d done all evening didn’t escape you.

He held you to him for a few seconds as both your breaths evened out, then rolled over, leaning against the backrest and lying you down by the outer edge of the couch. Ransom was always more tractable after sex, but he’d go back to being his dismissive self come the morning, and then you’d bitch and moan to yourself. This was a familiar dance you couldn't seem to stop repeating.

You were ready to recommence your self-pitying when Ransom spoke, interrupting the flow of your lamentations.

“I thought about what you said the other day,” he said. The pregnancy? Why would he bring that up now? “and if you want to keep it, I’ll help you.”

A tremor ran through your spine and you lost your precarious balance on the couch, falling to the carpet with a loud thud.

There was laughter – because of course there was – then Ransom was peering down at you. His lips were pressed together, as if he was still fighting to rein in his amusement.

“You… you want to help me?” You asked when you found your voice again.

He nodded. “I do.”

“You want to help me raise a kid?”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes “I thought that was obvious the first two times I said it.”

“You don’t like kids.”

“I like to think I would like my kids,” Ransom said, stretching across your couch like a lazy cat.

“Why?” You said, then, realizing that question was more for yourself than it was for him, you rephrased your question “What made you change your mind? Cause you seemed pretty sure when I saw you last.”

“And I was,” he agreed “I never wanted kids, and… And I was pissed,” he chuckled and shook his head “I don’t know who I was pissed at. All I know is I couldn't think straight. When I saw the pregnancy test… I don’t know, I could see my entire life crumbling.”

You could’ve asked him ‘what life?’ but decided against it.

“So, cut to a few days later, and I had this… Clarity. I realized there was nothing I could do if you wanted to keep it, and maybe,” he paused to take a deep breath “maybe I should take responsibility.”

You sat up and made a point of frowning at him. “Seriously, what happened?”

“I told you already. Just… boom – clarity.”

You knew Ransom was sharper than a first impression would lead one to believe, but self-awareness was not his forte. Could he have had a change of heart in such a short period of time? Did you believe him? You wanted to believe him.

“Do you seriously want to raise a kid with me?”

He laughed and threw his hands up in the air “How many times do I gotta say it?”

“Do you even know what that entails?”

“Hey, I babysat my cousins a couple times,” he said, picking at the foam peeking through a hole in the upholstery of your couch “I bet I’d do better than you.”

Being a parent had to be harder than watching children for a few hours, but as far as experience with children went… well, maybe he was onto something.

A palm emerged in front of you, rousing you from your thoughts.

“Truce?” Ransom asked. There was something about the way he looked at you gave you hope.

Earnest, he looked earnest.

You took his hand in yours and shook once.

“Truce.”

Part 2: I Came Out to Have a Good Time and I’m Honestly Feeling So Attacked Right Now

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #ransom thrombrey #ransom drysdale #knives out fanfic #none stopped me #TREASON MOST FOUL #one of the chapters will be titled 'Harlan Shake' and y'all will have deserved it #i almost named this chapter 'Fucking Dipshit' too #mine #(Un)Conditional

[cupsofsuga]

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ━ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 *:·。.

{ ⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers.  I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{ ☕️} NOTE - this is in the order of the member’s obtained! thanks for the request, daisy! also, creds for idea goes to @bangtans-apollo​!!!

{ 💐} ANON ASKED - ❝ Headcanons on how the fanclub discovered each other and reacted to each other’s obsession for YN? ❞

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

ah, the melancholic suffering of a lovelorn teenager

how he holds nothing but an eternity in the crevices of his heart

the serene sunlight, words dripped in saccharine, cloyed gestures

nothing hurts more than praying to whatever god truly exists that you’ll return the adoration but finding the fatal fate of no response

and that leaves jin now, seething with envy that could intimidate a pack of wolves

how dare the teacher not pair you up with your soulmate!? it’s just blasphemy!

someone gets to soak in the glitter of your presence, they get to bathe in the rain after a century in sunlight

all while he has to waste precious hours of his time with some plastic nobody

he has to waste time with bland, boring kim taehyung

he’s a dull star amongst a million planets, a saturated wasteland amongst an oasis of color

and how jin’s blood burns seeing that you flash that summer smile to someone who most certainly doesn’t deserve it

ditching the dinner date with his soulmate, jin is forced to work on this godforsaken project with the loner

if only you two had run away when you got the chance, relishing in each other’s warmth as he holds the privilege of looking into your eyes, which he finds resemble dewdrops held upon spider’s silk

that is the honeyed heaven he so badly craves to taste

and as he stumbles around taehyung’s adobe, the curiosity held within jin get’s the best of him as he stumbles into his bedroom

and oh god, what secrets did he uncover

your face, his lover’s face plastered all over the walls and ceiling

some even had his face punctured out of them, some taken without your consent, one’s that jin even took himself

and there’s that one sweater you once ranted to jin how you swore it vanished into thin air, and how he teased that ghost in your attic probably snatched it

if it was physically possible, there’d be steam seeping out of jin’s ears

he clutches his fists so tight, there would most likely be blood drawn; he clenches his teeth so tightly, he fears they might crack under the pressure

but, before jin turns tail, he then sees taehyung as fear swims in his irises

and then jin feels it,

a revelation, an act of generosity

❝ i think you could be useful… ❞

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

with every breath he takes, there lies humiliation

shame, a ruthless emotion he swore he’d never live to see the depths of

the summer amongst the dark clouds, all lied on a silver platter for your supposed boyfriend to see

but there is kindness in jin’s eyes, a sliver of evil dripped with every word he speaks

and therein, we have witnessed the blooming of the “writing club,” whose only members were lovelorn kids who’ve infatuation got the best of them

with some sugar-laced words, jin had managed to maintain a room for their meetings after school, taehyung quickly ditching his art club for these fleeting moments spent with the man closest to his love

no, taehyung had never been fond of jin, but, holds undying respect for him, anyways

his heaven lies in his words, his sunlight is seen in his eyes, the fate he craves so desperately is clutched in his hands

and it’s only so long before his grip weakens, and taehyung can rob jin of his pleasures in his moment of vulnerability

but, that future must wait as it frolics in the back of taehyung’s head

he must gain the trust of your childhood best friend before he catches his infinity like a firefly in a jar

but, with that being said, taehyung doesn’t mind all the hours he spent huddled in the tree outside your house, hiding behind a canopy of leaves as he admires the dream before him

he’ll sketch your face (which he can now draw from memory) in his notepad, ethereal poetry and doodles held around your sparkling face

he’ll snap a few photos, catching the fireworks and shooting stars in the purity of the fleeting moment

to simply have the privilege to love you silently holds the light of a million stars

oh, how he loves you…

how the earth bruises your cheeks, the moon litters your skin, the stars possess your eyes and the rings of saturn held in your touch

there’s pure bliss within every heartbeat lept

and there’s only so much time before he has you all to himself

he just hopes no burden will stop him from such…

━━━ 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

the student’s that litter around these halls resemble parasites

all feeding off the others, annoying them with their deafening disunity, and all trailing behind others like burdens

but, there’s always been that one, that one that stands out like a sore thumb

bland, boring kim taehyung

a boy capable of summoning enough envy and rage within jungkook to crumble planets to nothing but ashes floating throughout the galaxy

how he denies his infatuation for you with red cheeks, but anyone with eyes can see those “adorable” dimples puncture his cheeks whenever he sees you in the halls

how he isn’t burdened by the overwhelming fate of unrequited love, drowning in his jealousy when you simply look at someone else

how he stalks in class you like a hawk would to prey, probably undressing you with his eyes like the freak he is!

how he simply exists, and how it makes jungkook churn with rage

and that leaves him now, dodging students as the race out of the school, hot on the tail of his rival

he must end him before he could potentially hold your heart in his hands

that single idea makes jungkook gag…

he hears taehyung’s voice, shoving a scoff back down his throat that could potentially jeopardize his identity

there’s another voice, too, but, jungkook assumes it’s another one of those art freaks who’s also pretentious with coincidences

then there’s your name, and it would’ve sounded like it was dripped in gold if it didn’t leave the mouth of his sworn enemy

and then he hears of this writing club, and jungkook seethes

these lowlifes get to breathe in the fragrance of those fleeting moments, which is a fate jungkook whose he is well-deserving of, not them

to simply touch the crevices of your soul carved in silk for just a mere second is a privilege

and letting these cretins possess that opportunity is simply unholy

despite holding a burning hatred for the rest of the memories, for you, jungkook would drag himself through the depths of hell

he just prays that the club members don’t pray too far under his skin

he doesn’t know if he can control himself.

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

oh, y/n l/n…

an angel in the purest form, a humid june afternoon

they are a touch softer than autumn’s breeze, their word’s sharper than winter’s embrace, eyes starlit like the dreamy land of springtime, their presence like the bliss of summer and the melancholic longing after it’s demise

they hold within them the entire galaxy and namjoon can’t help but stare

but, there’s another pair of eyes

and they are burning bullet wounds into his soul with a craving to mutilate him swimming in their irises

as the bell rings its tumultuous song and deadbeat kids begin to litter the halls, namjoon is suddenly shoved against the locker by no other than the modern-day jeffrey dahmer

jeon jungkook, dust amongst a field of flowers

his sadistic pleasures and his lust for blood, the holy scent of iron that smoothes out all the creases

❝ if i catch you staring at my Y/N like that again, i’ll tear you apart limb from limb. ‘got it, dipshit? ❞

he is in all means terrifying, but, is nothing but a little boy to namjoon

time has passed, a damn near million tabs are held upon the screen all containing the history of namjoon and his family’s wealth

jin, who had been reported the incident by a fuming jungkook had found an opportunity in the depths of his teenage angst

he’ll feed into namjoon’s desire to touch you across hundreds of separating years

he’ll pray into his craving to kiss you as the naked moon sets for the final time

he’ll reach into his heart and use namjoon for his benefit

and how the rest of the members all fed off of his wealth like parasites

anything their little heart desired, they’d hold in their possession

as much as namjoon longs to deny them pleasure, he had been threatened to lose his place in the club and every inkling of access he has to you if he dared disobey

and namjoon would rather die than lose his love to the eternal night

the strange and enigmatic masterpiece, the ancient moon across a sea of stars

his violet lover has been sawed through by nostalgia, and his infatuation glows harder than a summer sunset

although jin’s intentions have a mile or two to run before they stab him in the back, namjoon still has a clear vision of his goal

and there shall be no burden before he meets his longed fate.

━━━ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

you, a flower itself, flood his brains like a tsunami to a pitiful city

you, a strawberry in winter, hold sly ways of slithering your way into the recesses of his heart once more

that leaves jung hoseok here, letting the teacher’s words fade to white noise as he doodles your name adorned with hearts on flowers in his notebook

there is distant gossip and whispers that echo from afar, which hoseok picks up due to his childlike curiosity

it begun with useless chitter-chatter, then dissolving to the melodic sound of your name which tumbles from their lips

he listens as the two boys curse the teacher for giving you a D on your exam, them mentioning this supposed ‘club’ that circled everything around you

hoseok was smart, he could raise your grade!

oh, how hoseok would just die to help you with your studies!

with a paradise sparkling in his eyes, he sparks up a conversation with the group, also known as kim namjoon and jeon jungkook

but, the doe-eyed teenager hisses at him, barking at him to ‘keep his fucking mouth shut’

he takes the hint, leaving the conversation with a silent ocean welling up in his eyes

but, this is the embodiment of hope that sits in this dull classroom

he’ll crawl around the corners of his soul till he’s enervate to retrieve what he has longed for

and that leads us up to now, as hoseok stalks to the two from a safe distance, watching as they disappear to the writing club

and just before the door closes, hoseok peeks through the crack of the door and finds the identity of kim seokjin, a boy he’s seen accompany you multiple times

the following day, while the students all stare in confusion for the small boy walking through the halls, hoseok finds him and confronts him

by the look of purified fear, this ‘writing club’ was a hushed secret, and him knowing of this secret was dangerous enough, as it is

after negotiating about how he’d contribute to your satisfaction, jin had no choice but to accept his offer

he doesn’t want this loud-mouthed kid to run up and down the halls preaching about their sins, anyways

the rest of the club members didn’t favor his arrival, all shooting looks of envy and hatred

but, there was no other choice

their fate is written in the stars and complimented with a wax steal upon an envelope.

━━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

opening his locker, jimin finds a taste of eden’s garden as he finds your face strung upon the wall

there’s irises, rivers, fairies, and peaches within the single picture cutout from the yearbook as he sighs dreamily at the sight

his daydream of honeyed days is quickly disrupted as his best friend, hoseok interrupts his thoughts with stars circling in his eyes

before he can find the words to scold him, hoseok begins rambling about this ‘club’ at a rate to fast for jimin to decipher

he hears tales of his dreams, a chance to taste your beauty

this most definitely sparked his undying interest, ushering his best friend to continue with his intentions to get the boy warped in this world

thus, we are taken to the night where the clock reads 3:38 AM in it’s bright, neon hues

the boys would never dream of staying up this late, especially on a tuesday night as the fear for the scolding of their parents’ echos, but, the adrenaline that seeps through their veins serves as a protection

because of the prophecy of this new club, they are rebelling

and as a new day rises and the sun shimmers in all of its celestial beauty, the boys have come up with a plan

every club needs a mission manager!

and who else would be perfect for this job no other than park jimin…? right?

well, let’s just say, despite his unreasonable, childish, and almost dangerous plans, the rest of the boys weren’t happy upon his arrival

the sighs of annoyance to his careless nature, the scoffs of envy when he speaks words of poetry about everything as little as when you made eye contact that one time 2 months ago

jimin’s contribution isn’t favored, but, if it’s for you, all 6 boys are willing to drag themselves through hell and back

every member holds an undying love for the god/goddess themself, all possessing a wild heart that they’d bled dry if you asked

and jimin is just one branch of the group who also holds an intense infatuation

the water to his parched heart, the flowering spring in a winter haze

he has found the sun as it shimmers against the snow

and nothing is as holy as this.

━━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

another dull day at the café, yoongi listens to his longing for spring’s voice

his hatred for this place burns bright and softly, as he dwells in the anger held within his small body

the college kids, the early morning joggers, all possessing ways of churning yoongi’s anger, one-by-one

obligated to put on a plastic smile for their sake has wars prancing through his head

but then, there’s you

oh, and those lively eyes he craves to gaze into for eternity and the soft furrow in your brow when you stare at the menu

he is mesmerized and listens to the songs of summer as he drowns in your stare

you haven’t taken notice to the hearts that swirl within his eyes as you order, unfortunately, and therefore leave a boy longing for a taste of the sun

during this fit of a daydream, 6 boys stumble in, all conversing at abnormally obnoxious levels

yoongi has to shove a scoff back down his throat and bring a halt to the urge to roll his eyes and dresses himself in the facade

as they all order and then continue their chatter elsewhere, yoongi can resume his illusions about your sparkled presence

whilst in the process of finishing a cappuccino, he hears the sugary melody of your name

he freezes, then concludes he must be hallucinating, resuming the process of the drink in his hands

after all, spending hours upon hours in this sacred place causes his mind to go hazy at times

the lilied waters of your eyes, skin like roses in the evening

you are so, so very loved by the boy at the café

starting up the hot chocolate with “extra sugar,” he hears it once more

does he need to stretch out his sleeping schedule or was this real?

were they truly speaking of you, or has he truly gone insane in the late afternoon?

peeking over his shoulder, that’s when yoongi sees it

your face was drawn upon a notepad, all fluttered hearts and empty petals around your face

the soul of the planets, the green pigment of the gardens, all held in this stranger’s arms

with determination, yoongi is required to learn more of this guest who spoke hushed tales of you

he’d do anything to know more about the star who enlightens his grey days

and now, the club is complete.

#bts #bangtan #bts imagines #bts reactions #yandere!bts #yandere bts #bts yandere au #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yandere oneshot #yandere reactions #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere!seokjin #yandere seokjin #yandere!yoongi #yandere yoongi #yandere!hoseok #yandere hoseok #yandere!namjoon #yandere namjoon #yandere!jimin #yandere jimin #yandere!taehyung #yandere taehyung #yandere!jungkook #yandere jungkook

[thewillowbends]

Currently reading the statement released by Josh Shapiro for the Pennsylvania response to the current Texas filed lawsuit challenging the election results and suggesting we overturn them, and let me tell you guys, this thing is a total banger.  PA officials are Done (TM).  Let me highlight some of my favorite sections:

Translation:  Sit the fuck down, AG Ken Paxton.  You ain’t know shit about shit about our state laws.

Translation:  Legal challenges require things to actually be law in the first place, dipshit.

Translation:  You forgot to add the part where multiple courts found that the Trump campaign was full of shit with their “non zero number of observers,” jackass.

Translation:  There were no violations of state law and this was already determined by our Supreme Court because states determine elections.  You remember states actually have control over voting, right?  Not an unelected panel of nine justices?  You remember that was done precisely so things like what you’re trying right now, right Kenny?

Translation:  We did that, fuckwit.  In fact, we literally had an interview with the Secretary of State stating we were complying with the order the day of the election.  Not that it matters because your candidate lost by nearly twice the margin he won in 2016 in our state, so it wouldn’t change the results, losers.

Translation:  Again, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.  Shut the hell up, you illiterate scum.

Translation:  He’s an idiot, and you’re an idiot.  Anybody who passed a fucking Prob Stat 101 class knows you’re an idiot.

Translation:  Fuck off.  You’re an embarrassment to the institution of law.

Translation:  Go ahead and waste your time setting the precedent of taking this case.  Watch what happens.  Fucking try it.

Translation:  Ted Cruz losing the opportunity to eat Donald Trump’s ass for another four years is not a valid basis for a legal challenge.

Translation:  Seriously, it’s been more than a month.  You lost.  Get the fuck over it, and keep your shit show contained to your own state.

Translation:  Yeah, that’s right.  We remember what you did to people in Wisconsin and that it’s set precedent now.

Translation:  The fact that these people have legal degrees is mindblowing.

Translation:  It literally violates our state constitution to allow electors to vote against the popular vote in this state.  Fuck off.

Translation:  You know the difference between state and federal legal application, right?  Then you should know you’re full of shit.

Translation:  You keep using that case Bush v. Gore.  I do not think it means what you think it means.

The context of this is Shapiro claiming that their lawsuit doesn’t meet the extraordinary requirements for a state dispute to hit the court, but I decided to pull it out because, let’s be real, it’s true regardless of context unless the context is, “What state loves suppressing the votes of American citizens more than any other??”

Translation:  No, seriously, if you even remotely entertain this shit, you will literally lose all positioning as a court of the people and fundamentally destroy the standing of the SCOTUS in the eyes of states.  Don’t be stupid.

Translation:  Fuck around and find out.

#politics #social issues #2020 election #dumbfuckery

[magioftheseas]

What do you dislike about Munakata?

I mean he’s kind of not great to begin with given that he’s a violent extremist who attempts to murder Naegi and the remnants despite them being victims of BRAINWASHING which THE FUCKING FUTURE FOUNDATION HAS THE MEANS OF REVERSING AND CURING THAT SHIT and also he wanted to expand HPA (but with him in charge) so he’s just a problem on every possible level.

But what irritates me about him is how he not only takes complete advantage of close friends and gets them to do all the important grunt work while kissing his feet at every opportunity when he himself is detached from the front-lines (just not good vibes especially with the lack of good will he has, knowing how he turns out in mhen) but he’s like...a total fucking idiot who doesn’t actually know those close friends at all.

Like Chisa, post-zhen, not only went through a complete personality change but she would also be VERY OBVIOUSLY TRAUMATIZED BY THE FACT THAT HER STUDENTS ARE SUPPOSEDLY DEAD (and then they later turn out to be despair and Munakata is like “lol let’s murder them as an example” even though they were Chisa’s fucking students so you’d think he’d hesitate a little bUT NAH, that requires actually fucking considering her as a person rather than an extension of his will) and rather than acknowledging any of the painful things that happened to her, he just fixates on her as his uwu waifu who constantly fucking falls into his arms over the slightest inconvenience even though tHAT’S THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF HER CHARACTER BEFORE ALL THIS HAPPENED. HE WORKS WITH A THERAPIST BUT GIVEN THAT HE COULDN’T FIGURE OUT THAT SHE WAS EVEN REMOTELY ACTING WEIRD, HE PROBABLY DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING OFFER HER THE SERVICES. Like, mind you this is a weakness more in the writing than Munakata but like... It still doesn’t paint a good picture of him, especially when during Munakata’s final confrontation with Naegi he spends all of it fucking wangsting about being betrayed and the solution was just to remember the “good times” with Chisa which...doesn’t solve the problem that Munakata is completely unable to acknowledge that Chisa had shit going on beyond him, but y’know what, that’s just dgrp’s style of writing at this point.

But yeah, Munakata’s an annoyance with very little going for him. Like the only thing he had was a reasonable concern that Naegi could be manipulated by villains but like

dipshit, how the fuck do you think it’ll look to the people that you murdered in cold blood the guy who defeated Junko and gave a rousing speech while doing so

Munakata’s an egomaniac and an idiot. No respect for him. But, hey, he makes an alright foil to Naegi because Naegi’s his opposite in that he’s humble and sees his friends (including his not-girlfriend) as like...people who shouldn’t be taken for absolute granted the way Munakata did. Again, I do think the role Munakata serves in the story is fine. He doesn’t really bring everything down like certain other characters I dislike, and that’s in part because we’re not really supposed to see him as all that heroic as a figure given the whole...shitty extremist bullshit from him that we have to deal with from the outset. When a character’s an antagonist, them kinda being a shithead is fine, y’know, they’re literally meant to be the cause of conflict and having a trash personality helps with that. It’s when they’re heroic that it’s a problem. So while I hate Munakata as a person and find him annoying, I don’t despise his presence completely.

He’s definitely a lot of wasted potential and the more I think about it, the more he probably should’ve died while Juzo lived, like such an unlikable person living with all the bullshit he caused himself by being so dim-witted and narrow-minded isn’t a bad ending but I still think it’s kinda unsatisfying. At the end of the day, if he did die, I feel like not much would’ve been lost. Like yeah “live with the consequences” but what he’s going to do about it is just...brood, apparently.

That’s so boring.

Again, it’s not terrible but ehhhh. Just feels like a limp noodle to end on.

#Magi answers #anonymous #character hate #Ig #dr3 spoilers #dr3 negativity