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romana-after-dark · 4 months

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Room's on Fire: Pilot

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

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Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.

"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.

Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”

“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”

Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”

With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”

Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”

The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.

They needed their Madonna.

Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.

His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.

So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.

So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.

“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.

Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.

“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.

“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”

“So you think she’s intact?”

“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”

Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.

“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.

Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”

Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.

He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”

Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting. Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”

Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”

“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.

“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”

“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”

Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”

You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…

Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…

You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?

You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?

The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.

He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”

“But it is, of course, your choice.”

Your choice…

This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.

There was no choice.

“I am a servant to my lords.”

Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”

The what?

“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”

“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course then.”

Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.

“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.

Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.

“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.

Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”

Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”

“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.

“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.

“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”

Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”

You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”

You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.

Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.

“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”

He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”

“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”

The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.

“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.

Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”

All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”

William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.

You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.

“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”

“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.

“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.

Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.

“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”

“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”

A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.

“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”

The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”

He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.

“My Madonna.”

WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long

PLEEAASEEEE LMK YOU'RE THOTS AND THEORIES!!!!

Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

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TAGLIST:

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado

if I missed you LMK!!!!

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primaviva · 7 months

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TRUTH OR DARE

PAIRING: ghostface!gwen stacy x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: paranoia and the creeping feeling that someone is watching you have been happening ever since the start of the school year once you got together with your boyfriend, randy robertson. but when he gets murdered and queens starts an uproar over this secret ghost killer, you get a call at night from a stranger in the middle of the night, and they wanna play a game. truth or dare?

NOTES: scream au! violent descriptions (nothing too much just with the use of ghostface it’s expected), reader experiencing comphet, major jealousy and heavy flirting, stalking, obsessive!gwen, nothing too much. nickname “good girl” mentioned once but in a taunting way not no bdsm type way we don’t do that here. HEAVY MAKEOUT. enjoy??

the black cloak and white mask seemed to be everywhere, a constant presence that infiltrated every corner of your world.

it dominated the media— from news broadcasts to social media feeds, newspapers, and even the e!news tabloids. the images from those fateful nights were plastered in front of your eyes repeatedly, each time reopening the wounds and forcing you to relive the heart-wrenching moments.

it all began at a costume party hosted by the notorious playboy, harry osborn, in anticipation of halloween. autumn held a special place in your heart, particularly as it transitioned into the eerie and enchanting season of october. tim burton's movies, with their dark whimsy, were a particular favorite of yours. that's why you convinced your boyfriend, randy, to dress as victor and emily from the corpse bride.

randy was a tall, somewhat dorky guy hailing from a loving african american household. while he had a reputation as an athletic football player, his true passion lay in writing, more specifically the realm of journalism. he seemed like the perfect match for you, and yet, there was an indescribable hesitation lingering in your heart. it wasn't that he wasn't right for you or vice versa, but really a blend of uncertainty and fear. perhaps it stemmed from him being the first guy to actively pursue and ask you out, leaving you unsure of what lay ahead. or maybe you were just grappling with the question of whether he actually fit your ideal type. it was a feeling you couldn’t explain in words.

the corpse bride held a special place in your heart, beyond the fall season. however, it did turn you off how much convincing it took to get randy on board with the idea of matching halloween outfits. after all, it was just a couple's costume. so what was his problem?

the night began on a high note as you arrived at the party with randy. the vibrant lights bathed the room in ever-changing colors. people danced and swayed to the infectious rhythm of the music, while others indulged in halloween-themed snacks and drinks in the corners.

you spotted your friends and decided to join them, breaking away from randy to spend time with his own friends. or so you thought. randy never struck you as the cheating type. with his gentle giant demeanor, he seemed like the perfect match for you— kind, considerate, and driven, basically all the qualities a girl should want in a guy.

but then, everything came crashing down when you caught sight of him in a corner, locked in a passionate kiss with sally avril. at that moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl before abruptly hurtling forward.

“what the hell? this whole time you were acting like you wanted to be with me but instead you’re messing around with the bootleg avril lavigne?” you shouted, the words erupting from your lips.

your eyes locked with hers as she stared at you in disbelief. the look you had only intensified as you saw her weakly hide behind him. you didn’t care if you were disrespectful, that was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

randy's gaze was fixed on you, fear and guilt circling within his eyes as you turned to him. “you are the most trifling man i have ever met. if you felt this way, why not end it? but no, you wanna act like a little bitch and make me come dressed with you just to embarrass me. never let me see your face again,” you declared.

angry that a friend of yours who knew he was taken decided to kiss him anyway. angry that your ex boyfriend couldn’t just do the bare minimum out of respect and tell you the truth, instead being sneaky behind your back. angry that you felt embarrassed and like an idiot for even believing something like this would work out.

as tears welled up in your eyes, you turned away, walking off in a haze of hatred. your friends tried to console you, practically begging for you to stay, but you needed to be alone to process the overwhelming pain. seeking solace, you found yourself outside, rain pouring down, mirroring just how you felt. the raindrops traced a path from your head down to the curve of your nose, mingling with the wet fabric of your dress. in that moment, all you desired was to be alone in the dark with your thoughts, away from the prying eyes of friends, and just calm down.

ironic how you were dressed as emily, considering you felt like the other woman.

it was when you were lost in your thoughts that you heard a a piercing scream reverberating through the house, jolting you from your previous assumptions that it was all part of a macabre party activity. your body tensed, and you swiftly turned towards the entrance, witnessing a wave of terrified people streaming out in panic.

driven by curiosity and a growing sense of unease, you stepped forward, determined to unravel the mystery unfolding before you. as you made your way inside, the scene that greeted you was far from anything you could have anticipated.

the grand staircase, once an elegant display of cream-colored opulence, now bore a twisted transformation. its steps were drenched in a vivid, saturated red, creating an otherworldly and macabre sight that churned your stomach. blood cascaded down in a haphazard and unsettling manner, leading your gaze to the source of the horror.

there, at the bottom of the staircase, lay randy, with a broken neck.

his friend, chad, had turned him over, revealing a sight that sent shivers down your spine. it was evident that randy had suffered a fatal blow to his chest, inflicted by a shard of glass or some other jagged object.

initially, you thought it was just a tragic accident, but deep down, you knew better. you had witnessed the fear and confusion etched in randy's eyes while his body laid limp on the floor. it was clear to you that someone or something had ruthlessly taken his life.

the night wore on as the police conducted their investigation, and you found yourself subjected to interviews, polygraphs, and everything else demanded of you to piece together the events that unfolded.

you still don’t know what happened that night. the weight of remorse for randy's tragic fate bears heavily upon your heart, not in the personal sense of romantic love, but in the recognition that no one deserves to meet such a brutal end. the haunting image of his final moments, consumed by fear and confusion, you couldn’t help but feel guilty.

it engulfs you in sleeplessness, much like tonight. the continuous string of events and criminal activities associated with this enigmatic apparition has caused an overwhelming amount of stress, making it impossible for you to find solace and rest during the night.

frustrated, you let out a sigh and forcefully throw off your covers, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. with a gentle unplug from the charger, you notice that it has sufficient battery to allow you to use it comfortably while lying down.

unlocking your phone with your password, you open tiktok, perhaps the least advisable app to open if you intended to sleep. however, acknowledging the chances of you falling asleep anytime soon, you decide to indulge in it anyway.

as you glance at the corner of your phone, you notice the time reads 11:30. you make a promise to yourself to scroll for just a few minutes before attempting to sleep again.

and so, time passes by, more than just a couple of minutes. suddenly, a ringing sound interrupts your tiktok video, and a notification pops up at the top of your screen, automatically muting the video. the incoming call displays as "no caller id," causing you to dismiss it, unwilling to immediately hang up in case it's a scammer testing the validity of your phone number.

returning to your scrolling, the number calls again. it becomes clear that it's an actual person trying to reach you. annoyed, you press the red button, rejecting the call. almost immediately, your phone starts ringing again, persistently calling you.

clicking your tongue in irritation, you sit up in bed and examine the unknown caller id.

why do they keep calling?

"fuck it," you groan, deciding to answer the call. "hello?"

a profound silence ensues, only accompanied by the faint background noise resembling a gentle breeze.

"hello, (y/n)," the voice on the other end utters.

it lacks a natural quality, instead exuding a cold and detached demeanor, yet with a tinge of arrogance.

"how do you know my name? who the hell is this?" you demand, seeking answers.

the fact that this person knows your name, especially at this late hour, immediately sends chills down your spine.

a deep, dark chuckle emanates from the voice before it speaks again. "wanna play a little game?" the voice asks.

you sigh in irritation. "i asked you a question, who are you?"

silence lingers on the other end of the line before the voice breaks it once more. "don't you want to play? it’ll be fun, i promise," the voice adds, its tone dripping with a smirk.

despite your initial inclination to hang up and leave this peculiar individual to their own devices, there was something about them that piqued your curiosity. the voice carried a feminine quality, although it was difficult to discern due to its thick, apathetic tone. beneath the eerie and disconnected facade, there seemed to be a hint of something more in the way they conversed with you. it was as if they genuinely wanted to engage in conversation.

you scoffed, rising from your bed and catching a glimpse of the night sky. "fine, i'll play. what game?"

you could hear the voice on the other end eagerly patting their thigh in excitement. "good girl, i like them feisty. how about a nice game of truth or dare?" the voice suggested, its eagerness palpable.

feeling a hint of nervousness at being referred to as "good girl," you cautiously responded, "truth or dare? okay. what are the rules?" the sinister yet mysterious aura still sent shivers down your spine.

the voice cleared their throat, adopting a more official tone as they explained the rules of the game. "well, you see, the rules are simple. each player chooses either truth or dare. the chosen option determines what the other player does. truth means you'll be asked a question, while dare means you must perform a task." after a brief pause, the voice continued, "the first player is you. which are you going to choose, truth or dare?"

slowly pacing around the room, you pondered your response but ultimately decided to play it safe. "um, truth," you mumbled into the phone.

"okay then, beautiful. what's your favorite color?" the voice inquired.

you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the simplicity of the question.

"what, did i say something funny?" they whispered through the microphone, clearly perplexed.

"no, no. it's just... for a creepy stranger calling me at night, that was the most ordinary question you could have asked," you explained, a few giggles escaping your lips as you spoke.

although you couldn't see it, you could almost imagine the person on the other end of the line smirking. "what do you expect when you receive a creepy call at midnight from a creepy stranger who knows your name and starts a creepy game of truth or dare with you?" they retorted, their sense of humor evident.

you laughed at their wit and couldn't help but feel a sense of strangeness in going along with all of this.

"what do you want?" you asked once more, silently hoping for a genuine answer.

"what i always desire," they stated nonchalantly, causing a shudder to run down your spine as their voice suddenly adopted a tender tone. "you, of course."

"w-what?" you mouthed, barely managing to whisper the words.

you found yourself utterly bewildered by their statement, but before you could dwell on it, the voice swiftly redirected your attention.

"i think i asked you a question. what's your favorite color?"

"it's (f/c). i practically wear it all the time, or at least whenever i have an excuse to. i even buy things in that color," you rambled, attempting to clarify. "but it's not like an obsession or anything."

"i know all about obsession," the voice responded darkly, taking an unsettling turn for a moment. "i bet it looks stunning on you. not that i would know, right?"

a blush crept up your cheeks at the compliments and endearing terms. it had been a while since you had received such attention. yet, even in those instances, it didn't evoke the same spark as it did now. the nervousness it stirred within you felt oddly exhilarating, unlike anything you had experienced from your boyfriend or the other guys at school.

"okay, i guess it's my turn now. so, truth or dare?" you ask the mysterious figure.

they let out a slight chuckle. "truth or dare, huh? i think i'll go with the truth."

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you sense their attempt to put you at ease.

"what's your favorite hobby? or, you know, your favorite thing to do, if you have one," you inquire.

there's a moment of silence on the other end as you patiently await their response. "drumming. i'm a drummer in a band, you know? i've heard girls like the title of being a rockstar's girlfriend," they reply.

you giggle at their comment. "the drummer's girlfriend, huh? isn't it a bit egotistical to call yourself a rockstar?"

"maybe it is, so what?" they retort, followed by a low, raspy chuckle.

another laugh escapes your lips. "that's actually really cool. i've heard that drumming takes a lot of skill and practice. and if you're in a band, then i'm sure you're pretty talented."

"you're... you're really interested in this kind of stuff?" they ask, their tone transitioning from confidence to astonishment. "nice to know a girl like you has good taste. i'm sure you'd love to feel the calluses on my fingertips," they tease.

you can't help but nervously giggle at the stranger's words, a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"now it's your turn," you remind them.

"well, truth or dare?" the voice asks.

"dare," you reply almost immediately.

you hear them let out a laugh from the other end, presumably in response to your eagerness. "bold, i like it," they comment. "i dare you to spin around in a circle until i say stop."

you tilt your head to the side, slightly perplexed by the dare. "are you serious?"

once again, their laughter fills the line. "come on and give me a show, ballerina."

letting out a sigh, you begin to spin around, unraveling into a fit of giggles. you can't deny that you wonder why they chose this particular dare, out of all the possibilities. but it serves as a distraction, and part of you is content with that.

"and stop," they command, and your feet come to a halt, your head lightly pounding from the spinning.

catching your breath, you resume speaking. "happy?" you ask, lacing your words with sarcasm.

"ecstatic," the ominous voice replies. "thanks for the view. as a former dancer, i'd give you a ten out of ten."

maybe it's the impending headache, but you could have sworn they thanked you for the view. which also means they could see you. but that's not possible, right?

"your turn, hurry up and pop the question," the voice commented, its impatience evident.

running out of questions and feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity, you blurted out, "do... do you like girls?"

silence greeted your question, and you mentally facepalmed at your awkwardness.

"oh," they whispered, seemingly taken aback. "i think you forgot to include the truth or dare part, babe."

your voice caught in your throat, leaving you speechless. you felt like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in fear.

"but i can't help it when i see a pretty girl like you so desperate for a response. i don't just like girls," the voice replied, a small snicker following. "i love them."

heat tingled behind your ears, spreading to your cheeks once more.

"how did you, um, know?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"i haven't even told you i'm a girl yet, and you're already assuming. i'll take that as a compliment," they mumbled, their tone bordering on mockery. "i just know who i like."

silence fell once again, and you found yourself lost in your thoughts. this inexplicable feeling that washed over you was something you couldn't quite put into words.

"i'll let my curiosity guide me here, but when was the last time you had... intimate relations with someone?" the voice asked, waiting for your answer.

a dry laugh escaped your lips, shattering the silence of your room. "what, my ex-boyfriend? what are you trying to get at?"

"ever thought about having a girlfriend?" the voice asked, its tone now more aggressive and snide, seemingly triggered by the mention of your ex.

the mention of a girlfriend made your mouth go dry. there had always been a certain connection missing from your previous relationships, but you could never quite pinpoint what it was or whether it was something about you or them. the question caught you off guard, but before you could delve into it, the voice steered the conversation back to the game.

"truth or dare?" the ghostly voice asked.

"truth," you replied, this time with hesitance compared to the last.

"okay, truth is... what's your deepest, darkest fantasy? what's something you've always wanted to do?" the voice asks.

"deepest, darkest fantasy? wow, that's kind of corny," you scoffed. "um... it's not really dark, but... i don't know. sometimes i just want to run away and get away from everything. people can be so shitty sometimes, and you reach a point where you just can't deal with it anymore. i think i'm at that point. sorry, that's kind of embarrassing to share with a stranger." you lick your lips as you gather your thoughts. "anyway, truth or dare?"

you can hear the voice chuckle. "i like a woman who speaks her mind. talking to someone about your problems is always nice, especially when they can relate. i think that's a good fantasy, running away from your problems and starting fresh. can't say i haven't ever thought of it," they reply, their tone laced with empathy. "dare, all the way."

it's a little relieving to hear someone who can relate to you, even if they are a creepy stranger.

you come back from your thoughts. "i dare you to tell me your name."

the voice on the other end lets out a laugh as they think about your dare. "oh, alright, if you insist." their tone shifts to sound more flirtatious as they continue. "that's such a boring dare, though." they pause for a moment before speaking again. "my name is... well, you can call me ghostface." ghostface states, their tone a bit more arrogant as they introduce themselves.

"very funny," you scoff, not believing them. there's no way in your mind that you're flirting on the phone with a slasher in queens. "come on, who are you? are you just messing with me at this hour?"

you can hear the voice sounding annoyed by your response, their tone shifting away from flirtatious. "you think i don't have the guts after one conversation? you know what, forget it. i was trying to have some fun with this, but it's clear you don't appreciate it. let's start the game over." the voice pauses for a moment before speaking again. "truth or dare?" they ask, their tone serious now.

"what?" you question, the adrenaline threatening to surge through your veins from how abruptly uncomfortable it got. "truth..."

you can hear the voice sounding eager as you pick truth. "alright then. here's your truth. what are you wearing right now?" the voice asks, their tone sounding flirtatious again.

"my pajamas... why?" you ask, confused and weirded out as your heart begins to pound nervously.

you hear a low chuckle on the other end of the line.

"no reason. it's just hard to make out what you're wearing from here," ghostface taunts nonchalantly, a sinister edge in their voice.

"what the fuck?" you shout out, fear and anger coursing through you.

"well, it's time for the dare. here's your dare," the voice said, pausing for a moment. "i want you to look out your window. take a good look," ghostface spoke, their tone now commanding.

you were too shocked to respond, but you reluctantly moved the curtain aside and peered out the window, surveying the ground below. to your relief, everything appeared normal—nothing out of place or ominous.

"nothing..." you mumbled, your confusion growing.

ghostface chuckled on the other line. "open your window," the voice demanded.

your heart dropped, apprehension seizing you.

"what?" you asked, your confusion intensifying as you focused your gaze on the window.

ghostface's tone became more forceful. "i said, open your window," they commanded, their voice leaving no room for negotiation.

you didn't respond, feeling your breathing quicken over the phone as you grappled with the presence of this mysterious individual. you sensed their frustration as they let out a sigh and licked their lips.

"you know what, how about another round of truth or dare? it's my turn," the voice taunted.

you began to slowly back away towards your bed, your instincts urging you to distance yourself from this unsettling situation.

"truth or dare?" ghostface asked, their tone growing impatient.

but you didn't answer, the scary reality of the moment setting in. fear tightened its grip around your heart.

"truth or dare? don't make me say it again," ghostface insisted.

you remained silent, a mix of fear, defiance, and self-preservation guiding your actions.

"oh, what the hell. no more choices then, (y/n). i dare you to open your windo-" before ghostface could finish their sentence, you abruptly hung up the phone and swiftly pulled the curtain shut, blocking out any further interaction with the mysterious caller.

"(y/n)? c'mon, don't be a party pooper," ghostface said, their tone flirtatious once again as the line went silent. a few seconds later, you heard quiet shuffling behind you, causing your heart to pound with fear.

realizing that you needed to take action, you swiftly grabbed the chair from your desk and dragged it into the hallway outside your room. you closed the door and positioned the chair below the doorknob, creating an obstacle that would make it difficult for someone to open the door, though not impossible.

suddenly, your heart skipped a beat as the sound of glass shattering echoed from inside your room, followed by a loud thud hitting the floor. your adrenaline surged, and before you could react, the door handle began to jiggle violently. you heard the sounds of your belongings being knocked over, accompanied by a loud crashing noise as the entire door shook. the playful tone in ghostface's voice had vanished, replaced by a sinister and threatening tone.

backing away from the door, you clutched your phone tightly, fearing it might break between your trembling palms.

"leave me the fuck alone!" you yelled, your voice filled with desperation. "if you know what's best for you, you'll leave now."

a sinister chuckle came through the door as it shook violently. ghostface sounded excited, his tone now both menacing and playful. "no matter how hard you try to push me away, i'm not going anywhere, babe. so you might as well just... let me in. you don't want me to break this door down. please don't make me."

"i'm not doing a damn thing!" you yelled back, your voice quivering with a mix of anger and fear as you ran downstairs.

frantically reaching for the railing, you rushed down the stairs while simultaneously dialing 911. the operator answered with the familiar "911, what's your emergency?" prompt as you frantically explained your terrifying situation. you provided them with your address and informed them of the intruder's presence in your home.

suddenly, you heard a loud bang. "you know, the police might not get here in time to help you, (y/n)!" ghostface taunted, his words sending a chill down your spine. "who are you going to call for help? your dead boyfriend?"

as the woman on the other end of the line asked if you had a place to hide, time seemed to slow down, reminiscent of that dreadful night at the party. slowly, you turned your gaze upward from the floor below, your eyes fixated on your once-barricaded bedroom door.

"sorry about him, by the way. i tried to talk to him, i really did! didn't go too well," ghostface spoke, his voice laced with a disturbing mix of amusement and regret. "i guess all those muscles didn't help much."

ghostface had broken down the door, and your eyes darted towards the bathroom— the closest room you could hide in— as you shut the door behind you, hoping to buy yourself some time.

"he seemed like a decent guy for you, shame i had to carve him up like a pumpkin. no one really appreciates a good woman anymore. i probably did you a favor, taking the trash out, if you catch my drift," ghostface taunted, his tone oozing with cockiness and a disturbing familiarity with your personal life.

you could hear ghostface getting closer, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floor as they walked down the nearby stairs and stopped outside the door to the room you were hiding in. the sound of their footsteps sent shivers down your spine. "come out... come out... c'mon now. you have until i count to three," ghostface stated, their voice filled with malicious anticipation.

"one... two..."

the constant banging on doors, shaking of doorknobs, and rummaging through cabinets echoed through the house as ghostface searched for you. each sound made your heart skip a beat, and you held your breath, hoping to remain undetected. the heavy thud of ghostface's boots against the floor reverberated through the room before fading away, only to return again as they continued their relentless pursuit. it felt like an endless, torturous game, until suddenly, silence engulfed the house.

"i-i think they're gone," you whispered into the phone, relief tinged with uncertainty evident in your voice as you spoke to the operator.

"is there a nearby exit? anywhere you could run to?" the woman on the other end asked, her voice filled with concern.

you responded with a quiet "yes," knowing that your back door was just around the corner.

quietly, you opened the top cabinet in your bathroom and retrieved a pair of scissors, holding them tightly as a makeshift weapon. you pressed your ear against the bathroom door, straining to hear any signs of ghostface's presence. their footsteps had become distant, as if they had moved to another part of the house. slowly, you pushed the door open, cringing at the subtle creaking it made, and cautiously peeked out. taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to get up and began walking toward the back door, your eyes fixed on it and the window view it provided. but as you approached, something caught your eye— a reflection.

"three."

you felt a powerful, gloved hand wrap firmly around your waist, pulling you tight against their chest. a scream escaped your lips, swiftly stifled by a hand covering your mouth. desperate to break free, you fought with all your strength, but ghostface's grip was unyielding. the more you wriggled and struck out, the tighter they held you, pressing you closer against them.

summoning courage, you ruthlessly stomped on their foot, causing them to lose their balance. their back collided with the wall, granting you a momentary advantage. seizing the opportunity, you lunged forward, brandishing the scissors, aiming to strike them in the shoulder.

however, just as you were about to make contact, another hand clamped around your wrist, its grip unrelenting. "don't try that with me," a voice hissed. ghostface's grip on your wrists tightened, sending a painful sting coursing through your veins. they forcefully redirected your hand away from them, forcing your arm downward until you had no choice but to surrender. struggling to maintain your hold on the scissors, your resistance faltered.

you released a pained moan as your arm throbbed with tenderness. the ominous figure in the black cloak forcefully pushed you against the counter, causing your hand to involuntarily open upon impact, and your phone slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor.

ghostface retrieved the phone, briefly glancing in your direction before focusing once again on the screen. "she's busy right now," they remarked coldly to the operator before hanging up.

with one hand, ghostface held the side of your tear-streaked face, while the other pressed the cold blade of the knife menacingly against your neck. fear coursed through your veins as you felt the sharp edge against your skin, the chilling reality of the situation sinking in.

"shhh now," ghostface commanded, their voice cutting through the air. their grip tightened, the blade digging dangerously into toward your flesh.

you sniffled, attempting to steady your racing heart. everything felt surreal, as if you had stepped into a distorted reality within the confines of your own home. the anticipation of impending chaos loomed, but the expected eruption never arrived. instead, an eerie silence settled over the scene, intensifying the disorientation.

a loud sob escaped your lips as you clung desperately to the edges of the counter, inadvertently cutting off circulation to your fingers. ghostface's hold tightened as they pulled back on the knife, the sharp blade now threateningly grazing your skin. their other hand covered your mouth, their grip unyielding. "just stay still. you don’t wanna do anything you might regret, right? now, say, 'i understand,'" ghostface uttered.

their gaze took in your terrified state as their grip gradually loosened and demeanor softened. ghostface's gloved hand tenderly wiped away a tear cascading down your flushed cheek.

"i-i understand,” repeating their words as your voice trembled.

their hands forcefully propelled you to the side, slamming you against the wall. through teary, half-lidded eyes, you gazed up at them as their imposing figure loomed over you.

their hand glided to the bottom of the ghostface mask, gripping the edge of the chin, and with a swift motion, they yanked it off and tossed it aside. cascading gracefully down to their shoulders was blonde hair, adorned with pink-dyed tips and one side partially shaved. their skin possessed an ethereal paleness, and their piercing blue eyes held a mysterious allure. a glint from the moonlight reflected off an eyebrow piercing, adding to their enigmatic visage.

and then it hit you. it was gwen stacy, your classmate.

the last person you would ever have expected. a smile played upon her lips, relishing in your bewildered expression. "gwen...?" you managed to utter, your voice barely a whisper. "-the hell?"

reaching into her cloak, gwen retrieved a voice changer box from her chest and raised it to her lips. "hello, (y/n). surprised?" she asked, a sly tilt to her smile.

"w-what..." you tried to speak, but the words eluded you.

"i know this is incredibly confusing and terrifying right now, but i promise i won't harm you," she assured, her thoughts seemingly racing.

gwen's smile grew, taking on a hint of obsession. "i've watched you for so long... you have no idea how much i've longed to be this close to you. you're such a beautiful girl," gwen confessed, her tone simultaneously tender and erratic. her hand still clutched the knife, and she tilted her head, regarding you with a disconcerting smile. the proximity between you two was impossible to ignore.

"please, just... just let me go, and we can forget all of this," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.

gwen cocked her head to the side, furrowing her eyebrows. "why forget this? why would i want to forget a moment like this?" her gaze bore down upon you, her once vibrant blue eyes now tainted with a dark ink-like hue, consuming you with an unsettling hunger.

"why are you doing this, gwen?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling and breaking.

gwen shrugged, her shoulders slumping forward as if weakened by the mention of her own name. "fuck, i love the way you say it," she confessed, her tone laced with an unsettling fondness.

drawing closer, gwen closed the distance until your chests were pressed together. in a surprising turn of events, she flung the knife to the far side of the floor, the sound grating against your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"don't you get it?" she stated matter-of-factly. "i like you. you're the kindest girl in school. honest, pretty, genuine. did i mention pretty? every time we talked, whether it was a small conversation in class or when you defended others from dumb gossip, you always showed such kindness. who wouldn't be drawn to a girl like that? that's why i did it."

your heart felt as though it had been submerged in acid. on one hand, her words melted your heart, evoking emotions you had never experienced with any boy before. however, simultaneously, a sense of violation and terror gnawed at you.

"what... what did you do?" you cautiously inquired, your voice faltering.

gwen reached down and intertwined her hands with yours, their grip tightening. "i killed your boyfriend," she confessed.

your head lowered as you shakily swallowed, the weight of her words sinking in.

"he wasn't right for you, (y/n). who cheats on their girlfriend with their own friends and pretends to care about them? you don't deserve that. you deserve so much more. you deserve everything. he never bothered to remember your favorite hobbies, your preferred makeup style, or even how you write the number five. he failed to appreciate everything you've been through or know how to comfort you, to make you feel good, to be a good boyfriend. if i had you, i would never treat you that way. especially after harry's party," she explained, her voice unwavering. "that night, i was dressed as a ghost because it seemed ironic, considering i'm the invisible loser of the school, right? that's when i saw randy with that girl and you running out crying. no one has the right to make you cry like that, especially not quarterback randy. so i went to confront him, told him how messed up it was. he pushed me, called me just another weirdo obsessed with you. maybe he was right, but the way he spoke of you, the words he used? i couldn't let it slide, (y/n). out of anger, i just threw my glass at his chest, i didn’t expect it to kill him. but it did."

your mouth hung open in shock and fear. gwen's grip on your hands tightened as she raised them higher until they rested at the sides of your head. your mind felt as if it were splitting in two, and your vision blurred. the onslaught of overwhelming information threatened to induce nausea, leaving you reeling.

“and god, did it feel so fucking good to kill him. if you told me all i had to do was get into a fight with your sigma male boyfriend who’s best friend's name is literally chad, just to get noticed by you, i would’ve done if in a heartbeat months ago,” she shouted, beginning to pace.

her eyes were wide, and you could tell just by her talking about it she wa reliving the thrill of the moment.

"i... i don't understand," you stammered, desperately trying to free your hands from gwen's grasp. she watched your movements intently, her eyes locked onto yours. "gwen, you fucking killed someone. why would you do that? do you realize the consequences of your actions?"

on one hand, you were furious that she had taken a life, but on the other, a part of you was unnerved by the intensity of the love she professed for you. it was as if, for the first time, someone truly appreciated your mere existence. you despised how drawn you felt to her, despite the circumstances.

"i don't care about him. i did it for you. i killed for you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "what man can say that?"

conflicting emotions tugged at your heart. ultimately, you yearned to surrender control and experience her twisted version of affection.

"no one has ever spoken to me like this, and even when they did, it never felt... like this," you confessed, your voice filled with a mix of fascination and uncertainty. "it feels... exhilarating."

gwen leaned closer, her eyes shining with a spark of light. "really? are you serious?"

your heart fluttered at her smile as she gazed into your soul. what was happening to you?

"this is a feeling i've never experienced before, even in past relationships. i don't know... you make me feel special, seen, and desired," you admitted, your voice laced with confusion. "i don't know what's happening to me right now."

gwen's gaze fixated on you, her once cocky smile softening into an expression of empathy. she broke the connection between your intertwined hands, slowly withdrawing one of her own. bringing her hand to her lips, she lightly bit the tip of her glove and sensually peeled it off, revealing her bare skin.

"i can't believe any of this is real," she muttered, her breath caressing your face. "can i kiss you?"

the question caught you off guard, amidst the whirlwind of emotions and confusion. your mind felt scrambled, making it difficult to think clearly.

"yes," you mumbled, your voice wavering with uncertainty, yet your eyes betraying an eager anticipation.

gwen's eyes lit up at your response. "perfect," she breathed before pressing her lips against yours.

your heart began to race, pounding fiercely within your chest. this was the last place you expected to find yourself, and you couldn't help but feel a jumble of confusion and conflicting emotions. "that’s it— just relax... everything will be fine," gwen whispered, her voice now soothing and strangely comforting, despite the circumstances.

you nodded, tentatively wrapping your arms around her shoulders and drawing her closer to you.

gwen leaned in even closer, her hands now tangling in your hair as her body pressed against yours. as she kissed you, your breath caught in your throat. it felt wrong, like you shouldn't be enjoying it. yet, you couldn't deny the undeniable sensation of pleasure that gwen's soft lips evoked.

a whimper escaped your lips as gwen reluctantly pulled away, expression tinged with sadness from the loss of contact. her eyes held a look of longing and desire as they locked with yours.

"that was even better than i imagined," she whispered, her voice hushed but audible in the close proximity.

"i... i think i liked it too," you managed to reply, your gaze averting to conceal the flustered state you were in.

it was true. in that moment, you were completely captivated by gwen like never before.

"i came all this way just to see your beautiful face," gwen commented, her hand firmly grasping your chin to turn your gaze back towards her.

as your eyes flickered between her piercing gaze and her inviting lips, a smile spread across gwen's face. without hesitation, she pulled you closer and kissed you once more. the taste of her lingered on your lips, tempting you to fully embrace the forbidden situation. you knew it was wrong, and yet... there was an inexplicable allure to gwen's soft kisses that made you reluctant to let go. confusion clouded your mind, even as your body responded to the intoxicating sensations. you found yourself not wanting the kiss to end.

a moan escaped your lips as gwen's wet tongue grazed your bottom lip, igniting a surge of desire. your grip on her shoulders tightened, your fingers clawing at her black cloak.

gwen released a soft moan of her own as her tongue gently explored the depths of your mouth. her hands trailed down your body, her touch growing more suggestive. "(y/n)..." she whispered seductively, her voice laced with desire.

once again, your body seemed to revel in the moment, despite the confusion plaguing your mind. her tongue slipped deeper into your mouth, eliciting a whimper of pleasure. the taste and sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire being.

conflicted and seduced, you clung tightly to her cloak, yearning for her lips to remain fused with yours as your heart pounded relentlessly.

gwen continued to kiss you passionately, her tongue exploring the inner recesses of your mouth. her touch grew bolder, and your mind struggled to process the overwhelming sensations. it all felt so wrong, and yet your body responded eagerly to gwen's every move. the kiss felt irresistible, betraying the rationality of your thoughts.

your hands instinctively trailed up from her shoulders to the nape of her neck, lightly pulling at her hair for support. another moan escaped your lips, blending with hers, as gwen positioned her leg between your thighs, creating a tantalizing friction.

gwen's hand firmly gripped the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as her lips devoured yours. the tension and confusion intensified within your mind, but despite it all, the physical pleasure of being so intimately entwined with gwen tantalized your senses. the sensation of her body pressing against yours caused a subtle squirming response. you couldn't deny the pleasure that coursed through you, even as the situation felt inherently wrong.

for a fleeting moment, your lips disconnected, allowing you to lock eyes, but the magnetic pull between you drew you back in. you leaned in, kissing her again with a primal hunger, your hands gripping her in an instinctive and passionate manner.

you found yourself gasping for air, your breaths ragged and desperate as you tried to replenish the oxygen you had forgotten to take in during the prolonged, intense kiss.

gwen pulled back, her head tilted to the side, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips briefly before she wiped it away with her gloved hand, smearing it aside. her messy blonde hair framed her face, and you noticed her chest heaving up and down, mirroring your own heavy breathing.

nervously, she asked, "can... can i take you out on a date?"

a smile spread across your lips, unable to resist the pull of excitement. "i'd like that," you replied almost instantly, catching your breath.

suddenly, the blaring sound of police sirens echoed through the block, their blue and red lights reflecting through your window. it seemed, for once, the police had arrived promptly.

"way to ruin a fun time," gwen scoffed, annoyance evident on her face as she stepped back. "i think it's time for me to go."

despite the interruption, you couldn't help but be captivated by how attractive gwen looked in that moment. her hair was tousled, her lips plump and bright red from your passionate kisses, and her eyes held a smoky allure.

"police, open up!" a voice yelled from outside the door, the knocking growing more forceful.

you glanced over at the door, which shook violently from the pounding, the sound of the sirens threatening to drown out your senses. when you turned your attention back to gwen, she had already retrieved her mask, putting it on over her head and securely fastening it. she removed her glove, then picked up the knife from the floor.

"so, about that date, how about saturday?" she asked, a smile gracing her lips.

you couldn't help but match her mood, the excitement bubbling within you. "yeah, that works," you answered eagerly.

gwen fiddled with the voice box, adjusting it before placing it back into her costume. "i can't wait," ghostface remarked, the iconic voice returning.

before you could respond, she swiftly made her way to the back door, disappearing into the night just as the police burst through your front door.

as the police stormed into your residence, the chaos unfolded. you were momentarily overwhelmed by the commotion, the loud voices, and the flashing lights. the officers quickly apprehended you, their stern commands blending with the cacophony of sirens outside.

moments later, the scene shifted. you found yourself sitting in the back of an ambulance, surrounded by paramedics who were checking you over for any injuries. the blaring sirens had been replaced by a steady hum, providing a strange sense of calm amidst the chaos you had just experienced.

one of the paramedics, a kind-faced woman with a gentle demeanor, asked, "are you feeling alright? can you tell us if anything hurts?"

you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "i... i think i'm okay," you replied, your voice shaky yet relieved. "just a bit shaken up."

the paramedic nodded understandingly, her gloved hands skillfully examining you for any signs of physical harm. after a thorough assessment, she reassured you, "physically, you seem to be alright. however, it's important to take care of yourself emotionally too. if you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out."

you offered a grateful smile, appreciating her empathy in the midst of the chaotic aftermath. "thank you," you said sincerely. "i'll keep that in mind."

“we already reached out to your guardian so they’ll be here soon, just rest up,” the woman stated before walking off.

as the paramedics finished their assessment and went to speak to the police for whatever further evaluation, your mind wandered back to the unexpected encounter with gwen.

something about this situation felt deeply unsettling. not only was gwen a killer, but her behavior had crossed the boundaries of normalcy into something much darker. the realization of her true nature sent chills down your spine, prompting a wave of revulsion.

however, you couldn't deny the conflicting emotions that had stirred within you during those fifteen minutes with gwen. for the first time in your life, someone has shown you such profound attention and affection, making you feel loved, appreciated, and even worshiped for simply being yourself. it was a heady mix of excitement and nervousness, emotions you had never experienced to this extent with any previous crush.

as you whispered the word "crush" to yourself, a sinking feeling settled in. you couldn't deny that you had allowed yourself to become entangled in a dangerous situation.

deep down, you knew that going through with the date was a sick and misguided decision. it went against your better judgment and morality. the allure of the attention and desire overshadowed your rationality, blinding you from the bright red flags waving in front of your face.

but you are your parents' daughter, so maybe you can fix her.

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

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fandomwriterstuff · 5 days

Text

Slut!

Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader (Slytherin)

Words: ~3.3k

Heavily inspired by Slut! by Taylor Swift

Seventh year was turning out to be the best yet as far as you were concerned. Sure, you were navigating the landscape of emotionally stunted seventeen year olds that also frequented the Slytherin dungeons and that you called your friends. And you also had your N.E.W.T. exams coming, as well as the inevitable detentions you were sure to rack up with your mischievous friends. And you also had the pressures of your pureblood family, and their expectations of you which were approaching just as fast as your graduation from Hogwarts.

Alright, so maybe you were looking at a shit show of a year, but you were a girl of many talents. One of those talents happened to be romanticizing everyday things. Your uncharacteristic outlook on life (uncharacteristic for a Slytherin, that is) was what was turning seventh year into the best year. And that was directly related to the two boys you’d attracted with your whimsy, passion, and pretty smile.

Now, you’d dated before. However, you’d never had a friends-with-benefits situation before. And you’d certainly never had that sort of thing with an established couple. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were Gryffindor’s power couple and also the two most attractive boys in Hogwarts. (You were being generous by saying most attractive boys, because you all know that if you’d said people it would have included yourself and one Lily Evans at the top of the list).

“And that, dear reader,” you wrote in your diary. “Is how I ended up getting invited to a Gryffindor quidditch victory party. A victory which they won against Slytherin.” You were making your last entry before trying to escape the dungeons without Regulus or Barty finding out about it. Both loving in their own ways, they were incredibly nosy when it came to your situationship. They were very protective of you and were already unhappy that the two Gryffindors hadn’t asked you to be theirs yet… Publicly.

“I do love these victory parties though, I get to dress up for the boys and feel like an absolute goddess when they see me. Though I do wish they would just date me. I’m becoming tired.”

As you touched up your hair and makeup in the mirror before your escape, you wondered what the other Gryffindors thought of the sole Slytherin showing up to their victory fest. (That is, unless Regulus decided to get his shit together and just kiss Potter, then you wouldn’t be alone in there).

You evaded wandering eyes and snuck out of the common room, wondering whether Remus or Sirius would walk you over. Typically one of them would come find you beforehand and snog you in a closet. You liked the feeling that they couldn’t get enough of you.

This time it was Remus, sitting on a windowsill at the top of the staircase and holding a lit cigarette between his fingers. Though when he saw you, sheer black tights and impractical shoes peeking out of your Slytherin cloak as you hurried up the stairs, he rubbed the tip of it into the stone and smiled down at you.

“Hey, dove. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got hiding under that cloak. You know Sirius loves those miniskirts you wear,” voice low in the dim light, you gave him a soft smile. Merlin, he was beautiful in the moonlight coming in through the window. You wished you could have them. Sirius and Remus and you. It was a pipe dream.

“And you know how much I love when you wear your shirt like this, it’s like you’re trying to entice me,” you murmured, brushing your manicured fingernails against his exposed forearms. He had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, his necktie long gone and hair mussed. You were envious that you weren’t so effortlessly ethereal, but you also felt so lucky you were able to see him like this, touch him like this. You steeled yourself against the encroaching depression that tried to take over when you thought of this… thing ending. Which it surely would. Sirius and Remus were the perfect couple. But you would do anything to make it last, to be theirs, for them to show you off like they did eachother.

Adorned with smoke on my clothes

Lovelorn and nobody knows

Love thorns all over this rose

I’ll pay the price, you won’t

The Gryffindor common room was a raucous place after quidditch games. You were able to slip in unseen, Remus shielding you from prying eyes with his tall and lanky figure as he ushered you up to his shared room. James was likely already downstairs, and Peter always made himself scarce during these things, so you weren’t too shocked to see Sirius shirtless, flicking his wand to dry his freshly cleaned hair. It was always a wreck after quidditch. Somehow the low bun he tied it in always got knotty.

“Moony, I thought you were coming with my favorite Slytherin?” He teased, and you peeked around Remus’ arm from your spot hidden behind him. “Oh, there you are, princess! I thought he’d lost you along the way,” he smiled as he slipped his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. “Come on, don’t be shy, let's see the outfit.” He never failed to make you feel pretty, and so you unclasped your cloak and hung it on the edge of his bed before doing a little twirl. Today’s was a pretty little black minidress with a swinging skirt that draped across your thighs in such a way that you had to buy it. You knew they would love it.

“You’ve no right to be so beautiful,” Remus’ voice from behind you had you blushing. And you’ve no right to woo me like this, like you want to date me, you thought to yourself. You didn’t have time to wallow in your thoughts before he came up from behind you and wrapped his big hands around your hips, thumbs rubbing into your skin and making you forget all the reasons this was a bad idea. Just like every time.

“Maybe not, but she is and we can enjoy the view,” Sirius, shirt still unbuttoned, was approaching you like a lion stalking its prey. But when he was standing chest to chest with you, looking down at you with those pretty eyes, he was nothing but gentle when he reached up to tilt your chin so he could kiss you. He had you like putty in his hands, and as you opened your mouth to let him in, Remus cleared his throat.

“You two do this every time. They’re going to notice we’re gone,” you could hear the fondness in his voice.

“I think Rem wants a kiss, princess,” Sirius breathed against your lips and you giggled, turning in their hold to blink up at your taller companion.

“Is that true, Remmy?” You wondered aloud, smiling up as his sandy hair fell over his forehead.

“Well I’m never going to turn one down from you,” he smirked before leaning down to press his lips against yours. It was a gentle thing, but when he squeezed his hands where they sat on your waist and pulled you in you gasped, and you were suddenly losing yourself in the taste of him. Smoke and chocolate and his hands were reaching towards your hair when Sirius tutted at him and you broke away.

“Don’t ruin her hair, I’m sure she worked hard on it.”

“I don’t mind,” you said breathily at the same time Remus chuckled with a “Alright, let’s get down there.”

The difference with tonight, which you would have noticed if you weren’t hiding behind Remus on your way in, was that the alcohol hadn’t come yet, and nobody was drunk enough for you to get past them without being noticed. Potter has just come in with some others with their contraband firewhiskey and other beverages, and so when you stepped off the bottom stair, laughing at something Sirius had said, lips kiss-reddened, and heart eyes glowing… Well people noticed.

You didn’t notice at first, too wrapped up in your two not-boyfriends. But you caught the whispers in the air.

“Isn’t she a Slytherin?”

“What’s she doing here?”

“What’s she doing here with them?”

Now, something you would write later in your diary went along the lines of: “As it turns out, everyone assumed Remus and Sirius were gay and that I was corrupting them.”

But all you could hear in the moment was the muttered “Slut!” from multiple directions.

Now, whimsical and romantic or not, you were a Slytherin and you had generations of pureblood rage instilled in you. You were away from your boys for the first time when you heard it. Uttered in the dim light, drunken words. But then a drunken Gryffindor boy tried to talk to you.

“So, are you just fucking Lupin? Or Black? Both?” He cocked his head to the side, and your eyes widened in horror before narrowing in anger. You’d pulled your fist back, moments away from knocking his lights out when a strong hand held you back.

“Oh, Remus!” The random boy was too drunk to see how close he’d been to being punched. “Hey, I just wanted to know if she was your girl? Or Sirius’? If not, I’d like a chance to see what’s under that dress,” he smiled and winked salaciously, and you saw red.

“Let me go,” you gritted out, pulling against the iron grip holding you back.

The tunnel vision was starting to fade and you were beginning to notice others with their eyes on you, but you were seated in your rage now.

“Pads, com’ere,” he must have been close by, because Remus hadn’t raised his voice.

“What’s going on over here?” His usually excitable demeanor was mellowed out by the alcohol. However you were red in the face and Remus was quite literally holding you back.

“McLaggen wants to know whether we’re engaged in a torrid affair with this lovely creature, and if not-”

McLaggen interrupted Remus, clearly confused by the big words.

“I dunno about all that, just wanted to know if she was with you. Because if not,” he wiggled his eyebrows… or he tried to. But with the alcohol and sweat it just looked messy. You were loosening in Remus’ hold, his strong arms always helping to bring you down from a high. He was like an anchor.

“She’s with us.” The elder Black brother’s voice was deadly serious, no room for jests, and luckily McLaggen took the hint and fucked off.

“You need a drink, pretty girl,” Sirius exhaled before turning to grab a new cup. People were beginning to look at you, wrapped up in Remus’ arms, and whisper. You felt the pricking of your tear ducts and you wrinkled your nose up to make it go away, which prompted Remus to gracefully spin you into a corner where he could tower over you and shield you from prying eyes.

“You alright, dove? Want me to punch that tosser?”

You hadn’t yet unclenched your fists, and the tall boy in front of you used his own scarred hands to pry them open and gently massage your palms where you had little crescent marks embedded.

“I think she wished you’d let her punch him,” Sirius shouldered his way into your corner, holding three cups of punch in his hands. “It would have been super hot, too.”

“They’re calling me a slut,” you whispered, not one to be easily moved by harsh words, this feeling was new to you. You couldn’t look up at them, still staring at Remus’ hands holding yours.

The two were silent for a moment, probably doing that thing where they looked into eachothers eyes and had quiet conversations. You always assumed it was lovers' telepathy. You were always jealous of that, you wanted it with them.

“Princess, I don’t care what they say, and I don’t think you should either,” Sirius started, and Remus reached up to tilt your face up to face them. “You’re not a slut. And to be honest, this has been going on long enough,” your mouth dropped open on instinct. Was he about to end your… whatever this was? “We can put the rumors to rest, because we want you to be ours.”

With that, your mouth shut with an audible click as your teeth crashed together.

“Officially, of course. Because unofficially… we’ve always been yours, darling,” Remus was smiling down at you and you swore he could have been a star in the sky the way he was glowing.

“You want me?” It came out a little more needy and desperate than you wanted it to, and Sirius cooed at you.

“Of course, pretty girl. We’re just idiots and didn’t know how to ask. So will you be ours?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded vehemently and used the extra height from your shoes to aid you in reaching up to crash your lips against his. You were mid-kiss when some fucker bumped into Remus who nearly knocked you over.

“Hey, piss off,” the drunken boy slurred and Sirius pulled away from you (making sure you were upright and unharmed in the process).

“Don’t talk to our girlfriend like that,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth in slow motion and you watched as all the eyes in the vicinity turned to you. And then the whispering started, spreading across the room like a wildfire.

But if I’m all dressed up

They might as well be looking at us

And if they call me a slut

You know it might be worth it for once

And if I’m gonna be drunk

I might as well be drunk in love

“I’ll take that drink now, Siri,” you breathed, and your boyfriend (your boyfriend!) grinned and passed one over to you before giving another to Remus.

“Cheers,” he exclaimed, and the three of you clinked your cups together.

What you would later learn (you seemed to be learning all these lessons after the fact) was that once the student body realized that neither Remus or Sirius were gay, it would be hunting season. The only issue was you couldn’t tell who was the prey, you or the boys.

You weren’t sure if the people sending you withering looks wanted to be you or kill you, but those were somehow better than the saucy winks and up-and-down gazes that made you feel naked.

Everyone wants him

That was my crime

It all came to a head one Saturday afternoon. You’d been eating lunch with Barty and Regulus out by the Black Lake, enjoying the rare afternoon warmth, a cloudless day. The only way things could get better was if you had your boyfriends there with you. You were excited for a moment when you heard footfalls behind you, but the pace was too quick, the gait unfamiliar. You turned around from your seated position to see two Gryffindor girls you didn’t recognize approaching you, looking rather sour.

“Salazar, save me,” you sighed, tired of dealing with jealous girls. At your comment, both boys looked around at the two outsiders. Now, typically, having Barty Crouch Jr. and Regulus Black lay their deadly cold glares on you was enough to send you running. But these girls were determined. “Let me handle this,” you muttered before dusting off your skirt and meeting them on your feet.

“What is it?” You cocked your hip, arms crossed, and stared at the two unfamiliar faces.

“We just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” one started, looking you up and down with a sneer. Not a very convincing one though, you could tell she wasn’t used to squaring up, which meant these were likely girls younger than you.

“Can’t tell why those two chose you though, you’re just a regular boring girl. And a Slytherin at that,” you rolled your eyes at the second girl’s words.

“What, can’t come up with any better insults? Not going to tell me I’m a slut? That I’m corrupting the school’s favorite golden boys? That I’m too ugly or too dull or too mean for them?” You couldn’t care less about girls like this, but something prompted your two friends to stand and flank you. You weren’t sure what alerted them, but you were glad to have them behind you for what came next.

“Should have guessed a girl from a family of death eaters would be used to being called names,” one giggled nastily, and you felt your would narrow down to just see them.

“The boys will leave you once they realize you’re just another follower. Wouldn’t be surprised if you already had a dark mark. Let’s see,” she reached for your arm and before she could touch you, two wands were pointed at her throat.

“Don’t touch her,” Regulus growled from behind you.

“You’ll regret it,” Barty followed, gleeful. He loved an excuse to scare people.

She paled, and her friend scoffed.

“Typical Slytherins. Let’s get out of here.”

“Run along, and go tell McGonagall that you were harassing another student. I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” you forced out a haughty laugh, and reveled in their nervous frowns.

You thought it was over, but then you heard one of them mutter: “Of course she has two death eaters doing her dirty work. She doesn’t deserve-”

You couldn’t hear anything else over the waves crashing in your ears. You were sure Regulus was telling you to let them go, but you couldn’t let them slander your two closest friends like that.

“Hey!” You were agitated, and pulled the one that was being nasty by the hood of her cloak, effectively spinning her around and throwing her off balance.

“What are you gonna do? Crucio me?” She laughed, unafraid.

“No,” you grinned, a shark with blood in the water. “I just came to tell you, you have blood on your collar,” she looked down, confused. As soon as her face came back up to face you, your fist collided with her nose and she went down, blood decorating her pretty white dress shirt.

“You better keep your fucking mouth shut about things you don’t know about,” you spat down at her as she cried, and you stormed back into the castle.

You let your sleeves drape over your fingers, hiding your bruised knuckles, as you wandered the halls. You didn’t want to go back to the dungeons yet, but you didn’t want to face your boyfriends. Unluckily for you, they had a magic map that helped them find you.

“Hello, gorgeous,” you were greeted by Sirius, and you felt a bit of the tension leak out of you as he and Remus steered you towards the Gryffindor common room.

“Regulus told us something happened but wouldn’t tell us what,” your taller boyfriend said once you found yourselves in their shared room. You pursed your lips and clenched your aching fist, tear ducts stinging as you held back your tears.

“I punched a girl in the face,” you admitted. You’d talked to the two boys before about how you were afraid of turning out like your parents, violent and cruel and heartless. You never hit anyone before. You stretched out your fingers at the thought, letting your knuckles crack with the effort.

Soon you were seated on Remus bed, Sirius holding your undamaged hand while Remus tended to the other and you repeated what had happened.

“Have people been bothering you a lot?” Sirius’ voice was soft and you nodded.

“They all hate me,” you breathed in deeply, trying not to let it all get to you.

“Oh, dove. They don’t hate you. They’re just mean-spirited and jealous,” Remus wrapped you up in his strong arms and nestled you under his chin. “If anything else happens, let us know. We’ll deal with it.”

“Preferably before my brother or Junior find out about it. We don’t need any maiming happening,” Sirius joked, and once again the air was alight with love and laughter.

And I break down

Then he's pulling me in

In a world of boys he's a gentleman

#marauders era #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #x reader #reader insert #sirius black x reader #taylor swift #songfic #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x sirius black #wolfstar

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months

Note

HIIIII ANGELLLL

SEVIKA WITH A PLUSHY I REPEAT SEVIKA WITH A PLUSHY. I know you did a small thing about reader with plushies but I thought it’d be cute for Sevika to be the one with plushies. Maybe reader stays over for the first time and finds her plushie collection hidden somewhere. Sevika would for sure deny and get insecure that it’s hers but READER JUST FINDS IT CUTE. I defo think she has the one she had since she was a baby that she still sleeps with. Perhaps it’s a small collection of those tiny beanie babies which she had a obsession with when she was younger (and still is obsessed with) or those squish mellow stuffies. (She has names for them too)

Thank you pookie 😩

WAHHHHHH

men and minors dni

sevika doesn't have many personal mementos or keepsakes. she's not a sentimental person, and she didn't have a lot growing up to hold onto. but there is one thing that she holds near and dear to her heart.

'stinky bear.'

stinky bear is a tiny little plushy, about the size of a beanie baby, that can fit comfortably in the palm of her large hand now. she's had it since she was a kid, it was the first stuffy her parents got her, and the only one she ever seemed to like.

she took him everywhere when she was a kid, shoving him in her back pocket and toting him all around town.

she only stopped taking him everywhere when, one tragic day at the ripe age of four and a half, sevika dropped stinky bear in the street, and watched in horror as a car ran right over him.

he was rescued, but he was never the same. his fluffy brown fur was matted, his head was separated from his body, one of his eyes missing. her mom tried her best to put him back together, throwing him in the wash and stitching his head back on with a chunky purple yarn, replacing his missing eye with a spare black button.

after that day, sevika started leaving stinky bear in her bed, treating him with gentle, reverent care, only touching him at bedtime, curling him into her arms and holding him tight to her chest.

sevika had to grow up way too fast. by the time she was ten, she was numb to the horrors of the world. she bulked up and taught herself how to fight, how to blend in and go without notice, and when to stand out and speak up. all her toys and childish games losing their whimsy as she became more and more disillusioned.

but she could never find it in her to let go of stinky bear.

not when she's been holding him every night since she was a baby. not when he's been by her side through thick and thin, soaking up her silent tears every single night. not when he's been through so much already.

stinky bear could stay.

stinky bear did stay.

when sevika moved out on her own, leaving her old drunkard of a father and the ashes of her mother on the mantel behind, stinky bear came with her.

he doesn't send the night in bed with her every night, now now that she's grown, but he sits on her bedside table permanently, ready and waiting for whenever sevika might need him.

and when she has nightmares, when she has horrible days at work, when she loses a fight or has a shitty hangover or feels alone, she reaches for stinky bear, curling her giant, grown body around the tiny, run down plushy.

when sevika has people over, stinky bear goes in the closet.

partly because she doesn't want to hear the teases her friends and co-workers and the girls from babette's are likely to throw out, partly because she's horrified of something happening to him while her back's turned.

she doesn't have people over often. in all her time in her apartment, she's had people over less than a dozen times, but still. stinky bear goes in the closet when she does. (sometimes in her fire-proof safe.)

and then she meets you.

the first few times you go over to sevika's place, you're way too preoccupied with her to notice anything else.

but after long enough, sevika and you become comfortable enough to just... hang out.

it's one of those kinds of dates, where you're really just existing in each other's space as one of you works or cleans or reads, when you first meet stinky bear.

sevika's reading and drinking, and you're taking a shower in her bathroom-- her water pressure is so much better than yours.

when you get out of the shower, you realize you forgot to grab a towel for yourself. so, you dart into sevika's bedroom and rifle through her closet looking for a towel.

you don't find any. but you do find stinky bear.

the sweet little plushy is sitting front and center in her closet, on top of a pile of neatly folded sweaters. it's clear that he's old and well loved-- his ears are a little crusty, his fur is stained and matted, he's got mismatched eyes, and he's sewn together with purple yarn across the neck.

your heart melts.

sevika has a stuffed animal.

you don't say anything about it, it's clear she doesn't want to talk about it if she's hidden it away like this. you just gently press a peck to the bear's little head and close the closet door.

when sevika asks you to move in with her, you expect her to finally introduce you to stinky bear.

she doesn't.

you feel almost bad.

sure, she's got you to hold now when she's having nightmares, and you're able to actually hold her back and comfort her with gentle words of affection. but you can tell stinky bear means something to her (especially when you catch her standing in her closet, gently stroking his fur one night.)

so, you decide to do something about it.

one morning as you're making the bed, you pull stinky bear out of the closet and gently place it on sevika's side of the bed, pulling the covers up underneath the tiny bear's chin, and giving it a kiss.

you don't say anything. you just leave it for her to find.

when she does (and she doesn't tell you this until you guys are married) she sobs.

the fact that you knew and you still didn't make her talk about it, knowing how hard words are for her-- the fact that you didn't tease her about it-- the fact that you treated stinky bear with such gentle regard, his head resting gently against her pillow, the his arms out over the blankets-- the fact that you knew she'd been missing him-- it makes her weak in the knees.

there's no conversation about it. but when you get home that night, you find sevika sleeping on top of the covers, stinky bear tucked into the crook of her arm as she snores.

when you crawl in beside her, she blinks awake, and you smile. she smiles shakily back at you.

"his name's stinky bear." she whispers, her voice raspy. you smile and lean forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then a much gentler one to stinky bear's.

and after that, stinky bear resides in you and sevika's bed, back where he belongs.

every morning, you tuck him into bed under the covers for sevika to come home to.

when you guys fuck in bed, you always pause to gently place the old stuffy on the bedside table-- facing away from the two of you, of course.

(and when you're done, you put him right back where he came from.)

each night, sevika sleeps where she always sleeps with you-- right on top of you, her head on one of your tits, her leg hiked up over yours.

but now, instead of her hand groping your free tit, she's gently holding stinky bear.

okay, are you ready to really cry?

when you guys have your daughter, sevika passes stinky bear down to her.

she loves the bear almost as much as she loves her mommas.

(and sometimes, when sevika's particularly upset or sick, you sneak stinky bear out of your daughter's sleeping arms and bring him to your bedroom for sevika to hold for a while.)

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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kimolisai · 3 months

Text

Using Bing Create with the prompt of a whimsical black woman tinkering on a robot in a cluttered workshop

#ai artwork #ai generated #ai image #bing create #bing image creator #generative art #black is beautiful #black girl magic #melanin poppin #black women #black girl whimsy #blkcreatives #blktumblr #blkgirldaily #black tumblr

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antlerqueer · 19 days

Text

If you like Yellowjackets, you may like... (books)

If you like the dark sides of the whimsy of girlhood, forest exploring girls all grown up, mystery Read What Lies In The Woods by Kate Alice Marshall CWs death, discussion of suicide, violence, SA implications

If you like unlikable narrators & toxic girl friendships where both of them are victims, but theyre bad for each other, and they spent time apart but now she's back Read When We Were Friends by Holly Bourne CWs discussion of suicide, SA, self harm, drug use

If you like toxic girl friendship, this time in college, murder mystery with a dual timeline Read The Girls Are All So Nice Here by Laurie Elizabeth Flynn CWs self harm, violence, sa, drug use

If you like codependent teen girls with dark themes Read Cherish Farrah by Bethany C Morrow CWs anti-Blackness (including descriptions of violence, micro aggressions)

If you like dual timelines & homoerotic formative girlfriendships (and canon relationships), rivalry but this time it's a girl group not a soccer team Read The Unravelling of Cassidy Holmes by Elissa R Sloan CWs ED (descriptions of the feelings, habits), suicide, SA, racism, depression (descriptions of the feelings), drug use/addiction

If you like Misty Quigley, milf on milf manipulation, unreliable narrators, dual perspective narration, and, of course, some light stalking Read None of This is True by Lisa Jewell CWs mentions of csa, grooming. descriptions of violence.

#yellowjackets #book recs #if ur in book club i literally just copy/pasted my list from there bc i havent read more books since #im simply illiterate now /s

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sapphickz · 23 days

Text

minsoul + danceracha

lee minho + lee minseo 𖤐 hoseo

aka: min siblings, minmin, biglittlemin, 민남여 (minnamyeo)

it goes without saying that all of the members collectively feel like an older brother to babyseo, however this one just so happens to actually be her brother (°▽°)

hoseo are basically the same person copied and pasted but the bigger one is cuter and the smaller one is scarier. it’s all backwards.

as siblings minho and minseo obviously bicker over trivial things as well as getting along extremely well but they tend to divert typical expectations with their undying outward support of one another. you will never catch these two bad-mouthing the other even as a joke.

don’t get them wrong, minseo will always be the very first to laugh at minho’s mistakes, but she is also the very first to compliment his bare face in the mornings. “the fairest of all the land has finally risen! would you like to make something yummy for breakfast?”

and as seo’s older bro/role model, minho takes great care in always making sure miso is happy and comfortable in every situation. he’s a bit of a helicopter mom in that sense.

minseo fully uses this trait to her advantage by this point. it’s usually just forcing him to make her a gourmet meal but she could ask him for a star from the sky, and he’d do it! after rolling his eyes of course.

nightmare (blunt rotation) duo. often gang up on the other members together simply for the fun of it.

also the only members to be able to tease the other and survive.

hwang hyunjin + lee minseo 𖤐 hyunseo

aka: jinmin, tom&jerry, the dramatic and the drama

100% transparency, at first these two had no idea how to talk to each other. it was very awkward, like two kids forcibly paired on a project together, and there were a lot of contributing factors to this fact.

firstly, at the time they met hyunjin thought she was the same age as him, which lead to his very stiff way of communicating at first. this in turn made minseo (2 years younger) totally off-put with the arms length she found herself at.

fortunately miso would later grit her teeth and bare the embarrassment to act a bit more sweet and cutesy toward hyunjin in order to warm him up, and that he did. after finding out she was actually not a scary girl his age but instead the real-life blueprint for kuromi there was nothing she could do to keep him away.

hyunjin has since grown to be the thorn in her side and truly lives for the thrill of disturbing her peace despite the threats hurled his way in retaliation. they never turn out to be true, anyway, minseo finds his antics too amusing.

as for miso’s torments, hyunjin is the only member she feels actually comfortable teasingly jokingly down to, like she knows she can call him a dongsaeng and live to tell the tale. one of her favorites is the simple “hyunjin-ah.”

and maybe it’s a pisces thing but hyune is the only member seo can’t help but simp for. she tries to hide the soft spot in her ‘cold, cold heart’ for him but the occasional “cute” will slip and the facade is destroyed.

since moving dorms minseo often calls hyunjin just to ask what he’s doing and say she misses him before hanging up.

and of course prince hwang always follows up these calls by inviting her to paint or go shopping the next day.

lee felix + lee minseo 𖤐 seolix

aka: lee kids, melody & kuromi, haedal (sunmoon)

the true gamer boys of the group; seolix. whatever you do, just don’t ask them about how long they played genshin last night.

with dangerous duality and voices that don’t match their appearance, felix and minseo are the sun and moon duo of stray kids, combining their opposition to illuminate the beauty in contrast.

^^ or you could just say that they’re the golden retriever/black cat combo of the group if you’re not into whimsy ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

felix is one of the members that minseo just can’t help but smile around even when he’s not really doing anything. just his presence alone is truly like happy vitamins.

and even though miso is typically seen as intimidating first and foremost, felix finds even the scary-looking minseo cute, especially when her gummy smile makes an appearance.

there’s also somewhat of a ‘monkey see monkey do’ phenomenon that occurs between these two. felix can’t do one (1) silly thing without minseo wanting to try it out.

on the other hand, felix is always trying to imitate miso’s cool and nonchalant demeanor, often repeating things she’s said or mirroring her ‘swag’ mannerisms (his words not mine.)

they’ve also arranged the agreement that felix will bake any treat she wishes as long as she gives him company for the time being. thankfully minseo is always willing to sit in a comfortable spot and laugh as long as she doesn’t have to participate in the cooking.

nowadays since they live in the same dorm seolix often go live together for a mukbang/secret excuse to talk about the newest game they’ve played together. babyseo stay eating well ✊🏻

#𖤐 minsoul #stray kids added member #stray kids addition #stray kids oc #stray kids 9th member #skz oc #kpop oc #kpop added member #kpop addition #fictional idol community

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lcverwrites · 1 year

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aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader (daemon's daughter) drabble

note: another drabble featuring targaryen!reader from my last aemond drabble. aemond might be a little ooc in this drabble, still trying to get the hang of writing him. but i quite liked writing the dialog betwene these two, it's cute and fluffy and all things warm.

also, my requests are open! so if you have any ideas you wanna send me, i'd love to have them!

The wind was whispering against her ear, sweet and delicate, wrapping around the silver strands of hair, inviting her beneath it's wings. Offering her a respite from the summer sun, a heat so blistering it left her red cheeked and achy. But filled her with a warmth unlike anything she'd ever known, the sun was a gift she played sparingly with.

She lounged beneath an old weirwood, back pressed against the white trunk, smooth bark touching the sliver of skin that peeked through the neckline of her dress. The grass felt cool beneath her fingers, picking up a strand from the darkened soil beneath, twirling it between her fingers, allowing the blade of green grass tickle her fingertips, before letting it fall right between the gaps, landing with a silent flutter.

Another easy breath of air passed around the girl, allowing her to close her eyes, picturing herself upon the back of her dragon, air rushing into her lung, feeling the wind beneath her metaphorical wing, lifting her higher and higher, till everything below her looked more like smudges of dirt than a giant castle.

"Careful, or you'll float away with your thoughts"

His voice was one that brought a smile to her face, with her eyes still closed, she pictured his stoic form standing before her, hand held behind his back, head held a little higher than most, back straight and tall, shoulders squared and tight, ever the picture of strong royalty. That leather eye patch covering his scar, though it peeked beneath the darkened and aged brown leather, a sign of strength and victory, at least to her.

So princely and perfect.

Except for the smile, that little tug on the corner of his lips, just a little. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you might have missed it, or mistaken it for a certain smugness that came from being the son of a King.

But she knew him, better than most could say.

She knew that look, a look solely reserved for her, and her alone.

Her eyes fluttered open and she was graced with a beautiful picture, a picture that deserved the careful had of an artist to capture, but she was no artist, so she had to commit it to memory.

She'd pictured him so perfectly in her mind, that when her eyes opened, she wasn't surprised to be right. Seeing him standing so tall before her, looking like the Prince he is, all taunt and agile. A sword tucked to the loop of his belt, dressed in the finest of black leathers. Silvery stands of air swept back from his face, shimmering in the rays of glittering yellow sunlight, giving him an aura of softness that he often lacked.

And there, right on the corner of his lips, she spotted it, that little kiss of a smile staring right at her.

"Do think it weak of me, to want to float away?" She asked in a soft voice, tilting her head a little, looking up at Aemond with a smile, all buttery and soft.

"That depends, I suppose" Aemond pondered. "To where are you floating too?"

She grinned, a soft and gentle kind of smile, as Aemond played into her little moment of whimsy.

"To wherever the gods allow me" She shrugged, feeling more carefree than she had in weeks, sitting beneath the weirwood with the sun beneath her skin and the wind in her hair.

"I think you have spent to much time in the sun, Princess" Aemond's smile trickled to the rest of his lips, gracing her with a smile so rarely seen.

An action to be treasured.

A heart-warming affection he saw fitting to gift her, one she'd welcome with open arms, hoping to coax more than he'd give her.

"Perhaps" She hummed in return, turning her face up a little, allowing the sun to trickle down her face. "But it is so lovely and warm, wouldn't you agree?"

"I think the sun has brain washed you" His retort was dry and humorous.

"I agree" The Princess spoke with playful certainty, closing her eyes as she bathed in the sun. "There isn't much hope left for me, I'm afraid my Prince"

"Hmm"

It was a sound more than a response, behind her eyelids she pictured his eye following her relaxed movements, his shoulders relaxing without his knowledge.

"I should like you to join me" Her words were soft once more, airy and smooth, but teetering on the edge of something more.

"Sir Cole is waiting for me in the training grounds" Aemond's response was rehearsed, a retort he'd often used when she asked him to join her.

It was a start to a game she knew well.

"And yet, you stopped to speak with me" Her smile was wide, all teeth, joyfulness painting her sunned features. "It seems training is an unimportant task during your day"

A huff met her ears, she knew she was wearing him down, though it did not take much these days, not with her, not with her Aemond.

"I assure you, it is not" Aemond replied in kind, voice wavering for a moment, but only a moment.

So quickly that one might have missed it, but she was waiting for it, this was her opening.

And so eloquently, she pounced.

"Then, allow Sir Cole to wait a few more moments" She was firm, but her smile was wide, it was hard to decipher weather she was serious or not "So you may enjoy to summer the way it should be enjoyed"

But Aemond knew her, knew the game she was playing, they'd played it so many times before. If he were a stronger man, he might have turned his back the moment he spotted her beneath the weirwood, but he couldn't deny himself the simple pleasure that was her.

So he played in return, knowing how the game would end.

"You are a rather demanding woman" He spoke with a certainty that left her smug.

She loved when he fell into the palm of her hand, grip made to fit his perfectly.

"It's the Princess in me" She shrugged innocently, truths slipping into her words. "I've been pampered my whole life, being denied something is not a reaction I'm accustomed too"

"So I've gathered" Aemond huffed a little, a breath laugh that fluttered in her ears.

"So why don't you indulge a spoiled Princess..." She replied, tilting her head down a little, eyes opening to spare the stoic Prince a glance.

For a moment, she expected to see his expressionless face in her vision, a face she'd grown to rather fond of. But she was pleasantly surprised as her gaze met his, a smile painted his lips.

It was wide and charming, boyishly so. Her breath paused in her throat, her heart thudding so loudly in her chest, she might think it would leap right out from under her skin and flutter away with the breeze. The corners of his lips turned up, gifting her with more than she expected, that kiss of a smile still ever present.

"If Sir Cole comes looking for me, I hope you know--" His words were teasing, light-hearted and playful.

"That you shall blame me and my wily way with words, that I have bewitched you body and mind?"

She caught herself before she fell anymore, lest she might not find her words, they were her weapons in their battle if wits.

Aemond huffed another laugh, deep and throaty. His lithe and roguishly handsome figure sauntered to her, taking up her summer sun for a moment, before he indulged her, allowing his body to sink into her shade beside her.

Their bodies side by side, not even an inch could be seen between them.

Here, alone under the weirwood, the lovers could freely touch, only the gods as their witness.

His leather clad thigh pressed against the silks of her skirts, her shoulder pressing against his chest, ever so slightly. She leaned a palm against his thigh, keeping her body upright, while is warm winded around her waist, calloused hand pressed firmly against her hip, holding her frame against his own. With a delightful sigh, she leaned her head back against his shoulder, feeling him nudge her with his chin, head tilting, nosing through the silver strands of hair atop her head, before his lips grazed against the smooth skin of her temple.

"You have bewitched me" His words were no more than a whisper, enough for only her ears, lips brushing her skin with every syllable.

She waited on bated breath for more. For anything.

"You've bewitched me, mind, body and soul" Aemond continued, gently stroking her waist, she could feel his lips turning up into a smile, brushing against her temple. "Everything that I am, belongs to you"

"I fear" She started, reluctantly lifting her head from his shoulder, tearing his lips from her skin. "That the sun is melting your mind, my love"

Aemond laughed, freely, openly, no longer hiding behind his stoic façade.

"Perhaps" Aemond echoed her response. "But I quite like how soft the sun makes you, my sweet dragon"

"How romantic of you" She preened under the compliment.

"Only for you" Aemond commented, tilting his head a little, pressing his forehead to hers.

Feeling her warm skin against his own. She tilted her own head, allowing her nose to brush against his, their lips but a breath away. Her breath stuttered out, no matter how close she'd get to Aemond, or how often they'd found themselves in an romantic embrace, she'd never quite get used to the way her heart would sing for Aemond. How her brain would turn to much beneath his gaze, her words dying on her tongue.

She wondered if she'd ever rendered Aemond so useless in the same way, if he found himself finding it hard to catch his breath or that his heart was beating so harshly, he wondered is it was going to jump out of his chest and into her awaiting hands. Or if he felt the same warmth she did, touching every inch of her body.

Aemond's nose nudged hers, worming her out of her thoughts, bring her back to the present once more.

"You were floating away again my love" Aemond said softly, violet eye looking so longingly at her.

"Floating with thought of you" She mused, brushing her nose against his in return.

There beneath the weirwood tree, the two lovers nudged ever closer, embracing their lips in a romantic kiss.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen blurb #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond imagine #hotd aemond #aemond x targaryen!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon drabble #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #hotd drabble #hotd imagine

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graves-yard · 3 months

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This is Miss Girl Whimsy who is my persona/fursona idk the difference honestly. They are based off of those photos of black cats with reflective eyes edited with purple and green lighting <33

I mostly made this to redo the header of this blog

#graves yard #my art #my ocs #fursona #furry oc

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

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Spooky Season | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! Happy September 1st AKA HAPPY HALLOWEEN SEASON! 💀👻🎃

Warnings: fluff, me being overly excited about Halloween

Also please note that this one is super short and I wrote it on break at work

Bucky reflexively pulled the knife he kept hidden in his boot. Someone he didn’t recognize launched themselves at him just as he opened the door to the apartment you shared. This was his biggest fear. A Hydra holdout. A vengeful victim. Someone coming for him- for you- in the home you shared.

But as he tried to take down his assailant, he heard you squeal with laughter.

“Happy Halloween!”

Bucky took a second to refocus. It was then he realized that his attacker was actually a plastic skeleton. He sighed with relief and quickly sheathed his knife. Embarrassed.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, babe. I thought that would be a silly, spooky little prank…” you took his face in your hands and swept your thumbs over his cheekbones. “It was a bad idea.”

Bucky pulled your hands from his face and positioned them behind his neck instead. He knew you loved Halloween. And Wanda warned him about your affinity for all things spooky. But if it made you smile, he liked it too. He kissed you long and deep. You’d taken his breath away, and now he wanted to return the favor.

“So, it’s Halloween now, huh? I thought that wasn’t until the end of October…”

“Welllll, the Halloween season starts September first!”

You flashed him a jack o lantern grin. This was how things worked in your house. Every year in September first, your mom declared it “Halloween season”. She’d let you help decorate the house. And each year, things got more elaborate. She instilled in you a love for Halloween. And you kept her tradition alive.

“Oh, yeah? That wasn’t on my calendar…” Bucky teased. He loved your passion. Your sense of whimsy. There was something so freeing about your light hearted spirit. He was always so burdened. So weighed down by his past. But you were a welcome breath of fresh air. A warm breeze on a cold night. And even though he wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween, who was he to rain on your parade.

“You wanna give me a tour then? Show me all your hard work?”

Another excited squeal pierced the air as you took him by the hand. Orange lights and fake cobwebs lined every doorway. A patch of Jack o lanterns sat in front of the fireplace. A garland of spiders hung from the mantle. And that was just the beginning.

“Okay, so we’ve got some spooky pillows and blankets for the couch,” you said. And Bucky’s eyes popped wide open at your definition of “some”. There were skeleton pillows and bat blankets. A small army of plush pumpkins. And a stuffed black cat with a collar that read “Binx”.

“Wow, looks cozy…” he tackled you to the couch and pulled a yelp from your chest. “Yup! It’s very cozy,” he confirmed as he sunk into the pillows. He held you tight to his body and reveled in your warmth. He could’ve stayed like this for days.

“Cozy and spooky”, you corrected, poking him in the chest. “Don’t forget spooky.”

“Of course, doll. My bad.” You shot him an affectionate eye roll as he reached for the candy bowl on the coffee table. “Great tour, doll. Absolutely loved it.” He tore into a Twix and gave you the first bite.

Obviously, there was more to see. But how could he resist eating candy and cuddling with his best girl? If this was what the Halloween season brought, he wasn’t going to complain.

But before he had the chance to enjoy his candy, you yanked him from the couch. Were you always this strong? Had you always been able to pull him around like a rag doll? Or did the Halloween season make you more powerful?

“So, as you’ve discovered, we’ve got a fully stocked candy bowl” you said. “And a bunch of little decorative witch plates in case you’re feeling fancy.” Finally, he popped the candy into his mouth. “Oh, and I have more candy locked and loaded for when you inevitably finish this by next week.” Bucky smiled at you, his lips smeared with chocolate.

The tour resumed as you tugged on his arm once again, dragging him toward the kitchen.

“Look at all the cookie jars!” A skull, a Jack o lantern, and a Frankenstein head sat on the counter. “They’re all full of Halloween Oreos right now- but I’m gonna make some Halloween cookies tomorrow!”

Bucky stole an Oreo from the skull and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. He loved seeing you so excited- and he loved snacks.

“And I’ve got these salt and pepper shakers that look like ghosts and- Oh! Look at these Ouja board plates!”

“These are perfect,” he laughed. “Now I can summon demons while we eat dinner.” You delivered a light punch to his arm. He faked an agonized groan.

The entire apartment was bathed in Halloween spirit. Like you’d dunked it in a can of black and orange paint. Ghosts, witches, mummies, and werewolves sat in every corner and adorned each room. Fall scented candles filled the room with autumn air. And the tv sat paused on Scream. For you, this was the most wonderful time of the year.

“Ooh! Candy corn!” Bucky reached into a glass jar shaped like a ghost and nabbed a handful. He dumped it in his mouth, and almost choked at your horrified expression.

“What?”

“Ew, Buck!”

“What?!”

“Candy corn is gross- that’s just for decoration!”

“What?!” he said a third time, his mouth full of candy. “Candy corn is delicious!”

You didn’t care that Bucky was the ex Winter Soldier. You didn’t care that he’d killed people. But liking candy corn? It was almost unforgivable.

“Wow…you think you know someone”. You narrowed your eyes at him. It was a betrayal, an offense to your sensibilities. “You’re skating on thin ice, Barnes”.

He pelted you with a piece of candy corn, “more for me then, dollface.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He did the same, his mouth tinged orange. “Show me the rest, baby”, he said, his cheeky mood dissipating. This Halloween stuff meant a lot to you.

He could tell by the messy bun and your mismatched outfit you’d been decorating all day. And he knew you worked extra hard to get it done before he got home. You loved surprising him. And making his home a welcoming, cozy place sat at the top of your priority list. He deserved fun Halloween decor and over the top Thanksgiving feasts. Obnoxious Christmas lights and lovey-dovey Valentine’s Days. He’d missed so much, and you wanted to make up for it.

An instant smile stretched across your face. “I have to show you the best part!” You made Bucky promise to stay in the kitchen with his eyes closed. This was it- the pièce de résistance. The thing you’d been excited about all day. Was it silly? Yes. But you knew Bucky would love it. You grabbed your surprise from the bedroom and did your best to keep it concealed.

“Okay…open!”

Bucky removed his hand from his eyes and burst into laughter. But the laughter melted into a chorus of ‘awwwwww’.

There in your arms sat Alpine. Dressed in a little witch costume. She bonked her head against your hand and twirled her tail around your wrist.

“Oh my god- Alpine!” Bucky scratched under her chin. She purred for him and gave his hand a budge, asking for more pets.

“I’ve never seen a cuter witch”.

“Right! She kinda fought me on the hat, but now I think she likes it.”

Alpine pawed at Bucky, needy for his attention. This all felt so strange to him. So other-worldly. Only a few years ago, he’d been trapped in his own mind. He was abused. Miserable. Used. And now, he stood in the kitchen of the home he shared with his incredible girlfriend. He had a home. He had someone who loved him. And he had a tiny white cat wearing a Halloween costume.

“Okay- you’ve convinced me”. He pulled you close and sandwiched Alpine between your bodies. “Halloween is the best season.”

———————

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @god-ofthunder @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen

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mafufuu · 2 months

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i compare childrens literature to pd pcs

!! spoiler for like, so many episodes of prime defenders god knows how many, but def s2 finale, if youre not done scroll away at rapid speeds !!

Childhood

Peter Pan is a tale of growing up. Dakota Cole is someone who might have done that too fast. The story follows the Darling children, primarily Wendy and their adventures into Neverland. Wendy seemingly wants to stay a child forever, though when faced with Peter Pan, the embodiment of childishness, her mind is changed. Dakota can be considered childish, with his intellect, black and white sense of good and evil, and extremely kind heart. Yet, it might be that, as opposed to Wendy, he is clinging to whatever remains of his childhood.

As a kid, Dakota was quite reckless, skipping school, climbing roofs, and whatnot. He’s like Peter Pan, filled with childish whimsy and a lack of care. He befriends a girl, who joins him in the shenanigans. It’s like the early bond of Wendy and Peter. But soon, the consequences of this immaturity become evident. Like how Wendy comes to see Neverland’s flaws. One day, when climbing a roof, the girl falls. Dakota tries to pull her back up, but soon his grip gives out and he goes down too.

Couple this with the death of his parents, and likely other factors, Dakota has gone through the kind of stuff that would kill off a childhood. But this is “his” fault, he wasn’t able to save her. Dakota wakes up after the fall, and he runs from wherever he was. He holds this notion that a hero, like the ones he sees in the media, saves everyone. A lofty childish ideal, but one worth admiring. Dakota has grown from where he started, he no longer sees good and evil as two separate entities, holding the idea that the ‘villains’ deserve to be saved too, and that they can be met with forgiveness as opposed to punishment.

Peter & Wendy says in the end childishness must be let go of. I reckon that it’s okay to have maturity, yet still hold the whimsy and joy of a child.

Belonging

Pinocchio is a story that has been warped over time. In this case, I will base this off of the basic sanitized version most people know. It focuses on a wooden boy, the titular Pinocchio, who desires to become a boy of flesh and bone. Vyncent is someone who (as of the beginning) felt a lack of belonging in the world of Prime, and wanted to be accepted. What lies in both is a desire to change.

Pinocchio starts out as a wooden boy crafted in a woodcarver’s shop, a fit for what he is made of, surrounded by similar things. Vyncent starts out in the world of Fauna, where magic is something everyone has, where people can just have pointy ears and no one questions it, where adventuring parties slaying dragons are usual, where he is normal. Where they belong and are accepted.

Though, they both leave those places of comfort, intentionally or not. Pinocchio ventures out to become a ‘real’ boy, and Vyncent falls through a portal. Soon after, he somehow ends up in jail, then gets recruited to join the Prime Defenders. He does not know the customs of Prime, but he goes with how things are, while using some of his knowledge from Fauna, to attempt to fit in. The heroes are beloved by many, they belong.

Vyncent embarks on his journey with William and Dakota, forging friends and foes, and maybe, a home, along the way. He finds a place where he can belong. Vyncent goes to visit Fauna, and he is beckoned to stay, in the place where he is from. Yet, with how he would be separated from the Prime Defenders, and how The Greats’ power remains in his sword, he chooses to leave. The Blue Fairy fulfills her promise of acceptance to Pinocchio.

Interpretations say Pinocchio holds the message of ‘disobedience is bad and being good will be rewarded’ which in some scenarios isn’t untrue. But, to me (and Guillermo Del Toro), it is an anecdote saying if you stay true to yourself, you can be loved, you were always what you wanted to be, realizing it or not.

Curiosity

Alice in Wonderland is about a girl falling into a strange and foreign world. William Wisp is a boy that got thrown into a hectic journey nonconsensually. For Alice, it is Wonderland she journeys into, for William it is the side effects of dying and getting revived.

It begins with being out in nature, seeing something strange, and deciding to follow it, then falling, be it being out on the river bank, seeing a white rabbit running late diving into its rabbit hole, or going on a late night hike in the woods, and spotting a will-o-wisp, and chasing it off a cliff. Then, Alice is in Wonderland, and William is falling with strange sights surrounding him. He looks around, seeing bright colorful lights, floating islands, be they holding fountains, a field of greenery with a mother and child walking together, a man on a throne of paperwork, you name it, all things to write home about.

Both William and Alice leave their places of wonder, though they do return. (Admittedly I’m not sure how well the events of the sequel lines up with William’s character development.) William’s adventures outside of the spirit world do not halt, however I am not focusing on those. When the base burns down, Mallard Conway whisks William away to show him his domain, being an endless graveyard housing everyone he cares for, and himself. Wonderland is certainly described to be a weird place, meaning it is also likely not devoid of horrors.

Both of the two are out of knowledge, attempting to solve the mysteries of these strange places they wound up in. They both can be mean at times, though are generally decent people, and they want a way out.

William’s journey through the spirit world and as the Wisperer continues. Ranging from forcing Dakota to fight a smoke samurai, then being forced to eat the soul of aforementioned samurai, to dying again, to learning he is decaying and bloodless after punching a wall and seeing strange imagery, a lot of things, and not necessarily good ones. Like how Alice continues traversing Wonderland.

Eventually, he dies a third time. He is faced with his final challenge, his trial. He stays with his old ways and runs, and runs, though eventually faces the fight head on, with all the growth he's gone through. The battle is simply happening when Clarence retrieves William to give the latter a second chance at being alive, though more in between alive and dead, as would Alice’s sister wake her up from the dream, and she leaves Wonderland.

There isn’t really a clear moral to this one, though it may have various themes and interpretations. This is but a tale made up to amuse youth. Though Wonderland may be fun, it has its downsides and things can go south, but the only constant is change, so things will be okay.

Home

The Wizard of Oz explores the narrative of Dorothy, a girl who lives in Kansas who’s life is turned upside down in a cyclone, Ashe Winters is someone who was just living in suburban New Haven, who’s life was turned upside down by the metaphorical cyclone that is the Prime Defenders (and eventually becomes one himself).

Dorothy soon becomes part of a group, making a quartet, one with three others who doubt their possession of certain characteristics. A tinman who treats all life with the greatest of care. A scarecrow who doubts his wit and overanalyzes. A lion, one who houses bravery but chooses to run, until told otherwise. Though Dakota, Vyncent, and William might not be the best embodiment of their trait I assigned among the group, they all have it for certain. Then there’s Ashe, who desires the comfort of family, in these scenarios, not necessarily blood relation, more companionship, familiarity, and support.

After many trials and tribulations, the Prime Defenders make it where they need to be, fighting Overlord. They won, however their victory came with a sacrifice, Ashe gave himself up to the Trickster so they’d win. Despite how little time they spent together, Vycnent, Dakota, and William are determined to get their friend back. They fight, and they fight, and they fight, until they’ve won.

All Dorothy desired was to go home, and Ashe wanted connection. These two things are quite similar, Dorothy was not seeking a building, but her aunt and uncle, and home is people, the kind you can connect with. That is what the Prime Defenders are to Ashe. He is one of them. Dorothy and Ashe return to their places of comfort, Kansas, and the Prime Defenders. After all, at the end of the day, there’s no place like home.

#i bring a kind of milgrammie analysis brain to the jrwiblr im unsure is good or bad or #know i proofread this the day after i wrote it on five hours of sleep and eight espresso beans #hope its coherent #ive had them for one or two months im not okay #saw this post talking abt how vynce isnt necesarily stupid #he can be competent but isnt given the tools to do so man im not saying hes like a five year old but man i remember when i was younger i fe #--t the same #i use he/him for ashe in this but just know i hc ashe as genderfluid #just roll with it prime defenders #jrwi pd #jrwi show #prime defenders #jrwi prime defenders #jrwi #dakota cole #jrwi dakota #dakota jrwi #vyncent sol #jrwi vyncent #vyncent jrwi #william wisp #jrwi william #william jrwi #ashe winters #jrwi ashe #jrwi ashe winters #ashe jrwi #jrwi pd spoilers #prime defenders spoilers

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