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#sometimes I wake up and choose violence
bethanydelleman · 5 months
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I think I figured out the problem with the Enemies to Lover's trope, it has a bimodal distribution. Let me explain!
Most tropes have a normal distribution:
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I hypothesize that with EtoL, there is very little middle ground. This is a bimodal distribution:
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You either do EtoL well and join the ranks of the immortals, or you crash and burn. I've discussed previously what makes EtoL work, but there seem to be a lot of traps for writers to fall into when it comes to this trope. For example:
the turn being based too heavily on lust (common JAFF trap)
never fully establishing the enemies phase
insufficient apology on one side (almost always the man's) which makes the other's acceptance unsatisfying
the pair have the communication skills of a newborn baby (ei: the misunderstanding could be fixed with a single sentence)
one side is a real asshole but it's excused because of TRAUMA
growth is ignored in favour of acceptance (can work, usually doesn't)
Relationship is clearly toxic, above and beyond the extenuating circumstances/magical premise (The problem isn't that Edward is a vampire, that's part of the premise. The problem is his disregard for Bella's autonomy)
One side gives in because the other is too obsessed with them
Once Upon a Time flew by having Hook feel meaningful remorse for his past actions (the scene with the Little Mermaid got me so good) and establishing begrudging respect between him and Emma, The Mindy Project crashed and burned by not showing sufficient growth in Danny (does he respect her career now or are they just horny?). Parks and Recreation got it by making the leads both good people who just got on each other's nerves because they had different valid approaches. I think Brooklyn 99 is one of those rare mediocre ones, because the enemy stage isn't fully established but the relationship is still satisfying. The Kdrama Alchemy of Souls got it right by having both main characters display an impressive amount of personal growth, while 100 Days My Prince burned because it relied too heavily on obsession and trauma excusing behaviour.
Pride & Prejudice and Much Ado About Nothing show that the beginning dynamic can be completely different, old antagonists vs. first impressions, but the trope can still work if it's done right. The problem is that it's so often done wrong.
So when it's good, it's SO GOOD, when it's bad, it sucks.
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daemon-in-my-head · 8 days
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Ah fuck it. We all know of the theory that Gortash looks and behaves the way he does cuz of grief. But, what if it's not grief? What if it's duty? What if it's guilt but also, dare I say it, affection?
What if the reason he couldn't care less about that grand plan and those horrible ambitions and himself is cuz he's the survivor. Cuz he now has the duty to actually live and not function in his partner's stead?
What if he's trying to rush and put everything to an end simply because his priorities shifted from being a nice little cog in someone else's machine to actually, truly living for the first time because he's still capable of it when others aren't anymore? Others that allowed him to be in that position in the first place? What if it's to honour them, because that was their last wish? What if it's a last desperate act of affection for the person he tried to convince isn't a monster?
They wanted for Gortash to live. At the very least, they wanted for him to live longer than most. So what if he's trying that now that they're gone, and he's cursed with the privilege of being alive? Durges prayer told him to live, so what if he's struggling to do exactly that now? To honour and love whom he's lost, who mattered to him?
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2offayyo-kzt · 2 years
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dogs>cats
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chacerider · 2 years
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baby shark doot doo doo doot doo doo
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cerealmonster15 · 3 months
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I sent the original worm anon teeheehee 🚶‍♂️
FELIX. YOU HAVE UNLEASHED HELLFIRE UPON ME AND FOR WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!
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pridewon · 1 year
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(don’t reblog!) kuroo wearing sneakers with his suits is such a power move i’m still trying to understand his fashion choices a year later.
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msdrpreist · 10 days
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Rip Jason Grace, you would have loved Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.
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inkskinned · 2 months
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my father told me he read it, but he hasn't read it. that's okay. my friends keep picking the words out of my throat.
someone once told me that the more trigger warnings that go on a book, the better it is. i didn't mean to write something with so many conditional phrases - i was writing about what i felt while being a human. sometimes you are a person and sometimes you are a statistic. sometimes it is falling upwards and sometimes it's sliding back down again.
my father tells me that it will be difficult to get people to read it. i didn't like the idea of a singular genre. i'm not going to lie to you - it is actually a difficult book to get through. i change the rules in it. it's not poetry or prose explicitly. it's neither false nor reality. i give you the tools to "solve" the book, but i let you do the thinking. my father says people don't care to think. i don't know about that - i think we just, like, enjoy reading.
the thing is - i was tired of stories about survival where someone with depression goes to therapy and wakes up okay. i didn't live like that. i was tired of books about violence, where the gore of what i experience was splashed in glitter to lick off the page. like, i was a person, you know? i had a life and a job and a family. and in books, i watched my story get ripped up so people could explore the viscera of my body. so they could feel good. my brother once called it inspiration pornography. we had walked out of a suicide-prevention seminar, both of us disgusted while the increasingly-elated presenter kept listing methods-of. i remember the look on my brother's face. like i would tear that man apart given the right time and place.
my father says that kids these days. he warns me against writing about things that are too-serious. he says that they don't want it. i don't listen. he does make me take out a scene from the book where i go to church after having sex with a woman. it used to be the 7th scene in the book. i don't think he's read further than that, it rocked him too hard to continue.
it's a book about being queer. it's a book about being raised catholic. it doesn't have monsterfucking, i'm sorry. it's just about, like.
at some point you have to choose to stay here. and then you do have to stay here, which takes practice. this is about forming the habit. this is about what happens after you've already started doing the work. because, like. you keep going. you have to. and it's like. very imperfect.
i should make a post on instagram. i should make this announcement less bittersweet. but like -- i'm giving it you, specifically, because i think you know why i had to write it. you and me. this little community.
body's a bad monster. here's the link if you're interested in ordering.
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strawchocoberry · 27 days
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TYPES OF DOMS
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I only love it when you touch me, not feel me
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──꒰ GENTLE DOMS ꒱
You’re his darling dearest and he’s always so gentle with you. Sometimes he can be rough too. And don’t try to take advantage of his kindness; you won’t like what you’ll see behind the curtain. He’s always praising you on how good you are for him and how well you’re taking him. You’re his little angel that he treats with caution, scared you might break like a porcelain doll. Unless you ask him to break you or make him snap. Then, he’s not so gentle, but still checks in on you regularly to make sure you’re okay.
blue lock. yukimiya kenyu . noel noa || genshin impact. neuvillette . zhongli . xiao . itto . baizhu || honkai star rail. dan heng . gepard . luka . luocha
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──꒰ PLEASURE DOMS ꒱
You’re his goddess and he treats you as such. He worships your body like a holy temple. His only purpose is to flood your body with immense pleasure. He’s willing to do whatever you want him to achieve that. He’s not beneath making you beg for him to touch you however you want; he needs to remind you that despite everything he’s the one in control, not you. Since he’s always flooding your body with immeasurable pleasure, if you anger him, he’ll have you beg him to taste the sweet nectar of release, as he edges you time and again.   
blue lock. alexis ness . karasu tabito . chris prince || genshin impact. kaeya . diluc . cyno . heizou . thoma . dainsleif || honkai star rail. boothill . dang heng imbibitor lunae . gallagher . argenti . sampo
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──꒰ HARD DOMS ꒱
You’re his personal whore, meant to satisfy his every need. He manhandles you however he likes, treating you like the slut you are. He knows you love it — being his slut. He’ll praise and degrade you at the same time with a cruel smirk. The more he spoils you, the harder he fucks you. And he loves breaking you; especially if you wake up and choose violence by being a spoilt brat. He’ll either edge you till you beg for mercy or overstimulate you till you’re dumb on his cock. Both outcomes please him.
blue lock. michael kaiser . itoshi sae . barou shoei . oliver aiku . shidou ryusei || genshin impact. tartaglia . alhaitham . ayato . wriothesley . pantalone || honkai star rail. aventurine . jing yuan . blade . sunday . dr. ratio
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© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work
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gffa · 1 year
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Guess who fell right smack back into BATFAMILY feelings hell?  Who has two thumbs and really thought they were truly out of the DC game, that it had been like ten years since they’d read a single comic, that they were finally safe from crying about stupid bats and birds?  Yeah, that’s right, this nerd.  And now I’m waking up and choosing violence on the rest of you by throwing every I’m Having Dick Grayson Feelings Fic at you that I can find, because this fandom is fantastic for it.   This list will skew towards my fave, but I hope there will be some good Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Steph fic for anyone who wanders by for them!  You just have to scroll for a second first. I probably tend towards a slighty softer view than canon always provides (I will grab hold of Nightwing #100 with both hands and a death grip, though, and you can’t take Dick & Bruce hugs away from me now) but that’s what fic is for!  All the emotional resolution the source material cannot give us itself and I am GOING to inhale all of it like it’s oxygen and I’m on a run.  And then shove it at everyone I can while crying on them, too. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k      “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Sweater Weather by MashpotatoeQueen, dick & bruce, 2.2k      Dick Grayson is eight, Bruce Wayne is trying, and there’s a walk home in the rain. ✦ Hay Is for Horses by lurkinglurkerwholurks, dick & clark & cast, 2.7k      The sleepover had been Dick’s idea. In which Clark is a good but very overwhelmed uncle who is Trying His Best. ✦ Eye of the Storm by Janie__loops, dick & bruce & cast, de-aged!dick, 2.5k      Dick Grayson becomes once again a traumatized volatile murderous eight year old, and the only thing more surprising is how adept Bruce is at handling him. ✦ A Blur of Spinning Wheels by chinuplilpup, dick & bruce & alfred, 10.1k      Dick is on the chandelier. An eight year old. A genius gymnast, to be sure, but a child, small for his age and under Bruce’s legal care. On the chandelier. Twenty five feet above the ground, surrounded by glass and kept up by a single fifty-year-old chain bolted to the ceiling. Bruce is going to have to check his blood pressure after Dick is safe on the ground. ✦ The Flame and the Night: A Bedtime Story by WingFeathers, dick & clark, 1.8k      Dick’s thrilled to stay with the Kents, but they go to bed far too early for him to sleep. It turns out to be a job for Superman, who shows Dick the Kansas night sky and tells him a story from Krypton––a story about two gods, called Nightwing and Flamebird. ✦ (T)his Child by shanahane, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k      ”I’m here for the elephant,” Bruce says bluntly. ”Elephant?” Haly says. ”We haven’t had elephants in over two decades, what…?” ”The toy. That Dick left on his bed.” OR What wouldn’t Bruce do for… this child? ✦ 5 Times Dick Grayson was in the Newspaper Because of Bruce Wayne by Engineerd, dick & bruce & alfred & clark & cast, 4.7k      Batman and Robin are Gotham’s urban legends, and Bruce wants to keep it that way. “I know that,” Clark said. “But when Robin eventually goes officially public, I want to be the one that does the interview.” ✦ we don’t allow monsters in these walls. by thychesters, dick & bruce, 1.8k     New dad Bruce is still trying to figure things out with Dick. He’s not his dad, not his brother, he’s just … he’s B, the guy Dick runs around with at night fighting crime. He’s worried, and he’s scared, and he’s too protective. Tonight the protective side just won out. ✦ shades of monochrome by renecdote, dick & bruce & clark, 6.1k      He can’t even think, let alone think how to act. His brain is like a broken record, stuck on a loop of blood and ringing gunshots and Bruce is going to die. “It’s going to be okay,“ Alfred says. But it isn’t. How can it be? Dick takes a deep breath and screams for Clark as loud as he can. (The one where Bruce gets shot and Dick cries a lot.) BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Ghosts by fanfictiongreenirises, dick & bruce & batfam, 2.5k      “Nights like this, when everything was balanced on the edge of a knife, when Bruce could feel Gotham clawing at them with her claws, he could feel their gazes scraping his back.” Bruce waits for backup with an unconscious Nightwing tucked in his cape. ✦ When I Touch the Water by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 2.7k      Bruce is trying to deal with an old injury alone, and alone is exactly the opposite of how Dick Grayson is willing to let him handle it. But Bruce can’t really complain because it’s nice to see his son again and not fight for once. ✦ Making Time by CaptainOzone, dick & bruce & cast, 6.5k      Bruce does not remember anything leading up to this moment. He does not remember teaming up with Superman recently, nor does he remember being anywhere but Gotham proper. He does remember having Robin at his side. Robin, it turns out, is not there any longer. God does he hate magic. ✦ to love is not to leave by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1k      Dick called Alfred for a medical consult last night, so when he hears someone at his door, he’s not exactly surprised. What does surprise him is that the man who came to check in on him isn’t Alfred: it’s Bruce. ✦ Olive by Ptelea, dick & bruce, 1.5k      In which Dick and Bruce catch up in the kitchen sometime after episode 11, “Not It,” Dick peppers his speech with condiment-related puns, and Bruce is sort of amazed by his life sometimes. ✦ too lost and hurting to carry my load by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.8k      Dick is sick and feverish, and those two things are forcing him to face some previously-stifled fears and insecurities. He really just needs someone to take care of him. ✦ No Other Songbird Like You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & bruce & damian, 8.5k      The difference between grappling off a building and free-falling off a building is actually a very small difference. Really, it’s just the difference between firing your gun before you jump, like Bruce always insisted on according to safety protocols, and firing after you jump, when it’s more fun. The fun way, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, is totally fine and has absolutely no consequences. ✦ mid-May’s eldest child by one_step_closer_to_death, dick & bruce, 1.2k      Dick’s sick and Bruce takes care of him. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Handle with Care by takadainmate, dick & bruce & damian, 3.4k      Dick is sick. Alfred isn’t around. Bruce and Damian do their best. Damian had known something was wrong. ✦ Off The Record by amathela, dick/donna, NSFW, 1.2k      Dick and Donna work off the aftereffects of a mission. ✦ Rejoice in Youth by FlashThroughLight, dick & bruce & tim & damian & jason & alfred, 6.1k      Dick has been regressed to the age of four, now Bruce and the rest of the family has to look after him until he returns to his rightful age. If Bruce thought teenage Dick Grayson was unruly, nothing could prepare for the storm that is Dickie Grayson. AKA Dick cons his family into giving him hugs. ✦ The Real in Funereal by lowflyingfruit, dick & damian & alfred & tim & jason & barbara & selina & cass & cast, 9.3k wip      Batman is dead. So is Bruce Wayne. And the Bat-family is struggling to cope, both publicly and privately. But crime in Gotham waits for no Bat, and like it or not, new grievances and old, the family must pick themselves up. Gotham needs its defenders, before their grief tears them apart. (Battle for the Cowl AU) ✦ Visions of Sugarplums by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & damian, 3.7k      See, it happens like this. Everything’s normal for them all—or, well. As normal as a family full of vigilantes can get. But things are running smoothly. He keeps his head up and his ears open, though, because he may be able to move forward, but he isn’t stupid enough to think that he’s not going to hit a bump in the road. He always hits a bump in the road. He just hadn’t expected this. ✦ Safety First by SuperWhoLockianFangirl, bruce & dick/babs & dick/roy & dick/wally, 2.6k      Bruce Wayne can handle lunatics like the Joker without even flinching, but the hurtles of raising a teenage boy prove more daunting. When it comes time to give Dick the “Talk”, he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. And unfortunately for him, he finds himself repeating the experience multiple times over the years. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Catch by Ptelea, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph, 13.7k     Five times Dick caught one of the younger Bats, and one time he wasn’t the one to do so ✦ Stubborn by audreycritter, dick & jason & tim & damian & cast, 20.3k     Dick is usually the one taking care of everyone else and he’s bad at asking for help. So bad, in fact, that he never even actually asks– but Jason shows up anyway. And then Dick returns the favor. And then they both do for Tim. And it’s just going to keep going from there. It’s probably Alfred’s fault. When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother,” you don’t argue. You just do it. ✦ Without Question by lowflyingfruit, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, 6.2k     There is something very wrong with Dick at the moment. He’s doing everything Bruce says without a hint of protest. Tim’s going to get to the bottom of this. ✦ Ranking Robins by Beauty_In_Her_Darkness, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, 5k     Buzzfeed has been cranking out quiz after quiz about Gotham’s Bat-themed superheroes. When Jason shows them to his family, him and his brothers decide that not only should their adoring fans get to rank the Robins: Bruce should too. ✦ Carry by Ptelea, dick & jason, 4.9k     Whoever said, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” didn’t have to haul you around. ✦ a pointless resistance by emavee, bruce & dick & jason & alfred, time loop, 26.7k     It starts with a news report running in the background of a greasy little diner, but it ends with Dick dead. Except, it doesn’t stop there. It keeps on ending, over and over. Bruce’s son keeps dying, and nothing he does seems to make any sort of difference. ✦ while you see it your way by irnan, bruce & dick/babs & tim & cass & damian & alfred, 4.5k     Wherein Damian acts his age for once, and - to the astonishment of absolutely no one - it’s all Bruce’s fault. ✦ Manor-Dad lets me drive the Batmobile by loosingletters, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian & duke & cast, 21.2k wip     Bruce had two options when Dick found the Cave. 1) Tell him the truth. 2) Go along with Dick’s excited “You’re dating Batman!” until he figured out the truth. Several children later Bruce wished he’d gone with option 1) or he wouldn’t have to deal with all his kids believing he and Batman were separate people. ✦ Bomb Sing Se by Cephalogod, dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian, 2.2k     The thing was…it wasn’t actually the worst idea. (The bombs in the gauntlets part; Jason had vocally disapproved of every aesthetic decision Dick had ever made since they were teenagers, Dick wasn’t going to start listening to him about that now.) ✦ Above Any Price by centreoftheselights, dick & jason & tim & damian, 1.6k     Dick gets the news that Jason has been taken hostage. This time, he’s going to save his brother. ✦ Upside Down by withthekeyisking, dick & jason, de-aged!dick, 2.1k     Something that was not on Jason agenda for the night, but somehow now is: take care of the de-aged version of his big brother, who is—in his tiny mind—apparently running away from juvie. Because, sure. Why the fuck not. ✦ straight up, what did you hope to learn about here by irnan, bruce & dick & damian & barbara & jason (background dick/babs), 3.8k     (or: Three Conversations Dick Grayson Has About Jason Todd, That One Time A Couple Years Ago When Jay Was Dead, And How Talia Al Ghul Is Why Dick Can’t Have Nice Things.) ✦ Now Comes Good Sailing by geminus_17, dick & jason, 2.3k     Dick and Jason escape to Walden Pond and have a healing talk about the meaning of life and death, and insult Henry David Thoreau. ✦ on the other side by MermaidMarie, dick & jason & tim, 3.6k     In which Tim and Jason are staying up all night in the hallway, after Dick gets his memories back. ✦ Control Alt Delete by audreycritter, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & stephanie & riddler, 1.9k     Sometimes the only way to solve an impossible riddle is to give up. ✦ Extension by smilebackwards, tim/kon & dick & jason & bruce, 5.9k     Tim’s going to need to learn to be less conspicuous about this hopeless crush he’s developed; he lives with an entire family of detectives. Or: Tim has a crush on Conner and everyone has something to say about it. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ The 70 Days After Groundhog Day by Ptelea, dick & jason & batfam, time loop, 43.9k      There’s a time loop that only Jason remembers. It acts as a catalyst for changes within the family. Some arguments, some misunderstandings, some bonding, some healing, and quite a lot of conversations that mostly take place over food. Dick POV, focused on Dick and Jason but with the other Bats around and very present. ✦ Fair is Fowl by Lysical, dick & jason & batfam, 4.3k      Dick Grayson is visiting the Manor. Jason Todd has the chickenpox. They might not be brothers, but maybe they can get along for one evening. ✦ Ensemble Performance by lowflyingfruit, jason & damian & batfam, 4.8k      Damian has a deep, dark secret he needs kept from Grayson, his father, and most of all Drake, at all costs: he has, quite unwillingly, been volunteered for a part in his school’s annual musical. As a grouchy dinosaur. This is now Jason’s problem. Or his blackmail opportunity. Whichever. ✦ Home Intrusion by daedalusdavinci, dick & jason & cast, 7.2k      There are moments when the… everything of Dick’s life catches up with him, and exhaustion sinks deep into his skin. However, when he goes dark on everyone else, Jason doesn’t quite get the memo. Rules never seem to apply to little brothers. After two weeks of little more than clipped texts, Jason shoves his way into Dick’s life and gets him up and moving again. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ 3:16 by partingxshot, dick & damian & alfred & stephanie & cast, 70.7k      The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.) ✦ The R Stands for – by Cirth, dick & damian & bruce & talia, 5.8k      Damian pretends to focus on lacing up his boots as his father tugs Drake to his side, plants a gruff, casual kiss in his hair. Drake’s lips curl into a pleased smile, and Damian yanks the strings so hard his palms burn. ✦ The Rule Stands by Engineerd, dick & damian & bruce & tim & alfred, time travel, 11k      Damian meets a 10-year-old Dick Grayson, and they become best friends. ✦ this tiny little space by Alienu, dick & damian, 2.1k      The landing on his fire escape is nearly silent. Nearly. ✦ waiting for the tides to meet by partingxshot, dick & damian, 2k      Grayson behaves like this sometimes: like Damian needs to be protected. It twists his stomach in sharp and unfamiliar ways. “You leave, then!“ Damian spits. "I’ll—I’ll track Clayface on my own.” Another shudder takes him. The pain floods him all over again. It doesn’t matter: he won’t cry out. The rain pelts the dumpster behind him. It pools in cracks in the concrete. ✦ the city without stars in its skies by Alienu, dick & damian & batfam, 18.5k      (Or, in a world where he was never sent to live with his father, Damian al Ghul is contracted to assassinate one Dick Grayson.) ✦ Catch Me (All Records Indicate) by Engineerd, dick & damian & batfam, 9.5k      Damian had studied each of his father’s prior proteges briefly before he’d left the League of Assassins. Somehow, Grayson in person is nothing like Grayson on paper. OR “Are you sure you can catch me?” Grayson asked. Damian could hear his heart beating. He wasn’t sure. “Yes,” he answered anyways. ✦ Even in the Midst of Grief by Ellegrine, dick & damian, 4.3k      Richard Grayson has never hurt Damian. It’s unforgivable that anyone should believe otherwise. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, MAKE ME CRY ABOUT BATS AND BIRDS, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Second Generation by lowflyingfruit, dick & bruce & tim & barbara & jason & alfred & cass & cast, aftermath of rape + depression, 108.9k      Nine months after the ‘Blockbuster Incident’, a call from Lockhaven Penitentiary regarding Catalina Flores brings all Dick Grayson’s plans for his future in Bludhaven crashing down. Thrust suddenly into parenthood and hiding what happened to make him a parent in the first place, Dick must decide, adjust, and accept - and no matter what, the family has to pull together to help him. ✦ Savior Complex by Arwriter, dick & bruce & barbara & tim & jason & damian & alfred & cast, 11.6k      “All I did was disappoint you.” He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t catch his breath. “I just wanted to do good. I just wanted to be better and all I did was make everyone angry.” Or: When Bruce comes back from the dead, Dick goes nonverbal. Nobody seems to have the time to notice. ✦ Essential Actions by CKBookish, dick & clark & bruce & wally & cast, 8.8k      Clark shifted his weight making the floorboards creak and groan under his feet. “Dick I hate to see you–” He paused searching for the right word. Dick snorted. “Wallow?” Clark sighed. “That’s not what I was going to say.” “I know. I can go to the barn and hang out there if I’m bothering you and Lois.” Dick pushed himself up. Of course he should have thought of that. Lois didn’t want some random teen laying around her home on Christmas Eve. Dick’s first Christmas without Bruce after he’s fired. ✦ The Night It All Came Crashing Down by chibi_nightowl, dick & jason, rape aftermath/read the tags, 4k      After a difficult night on patrol, memories Dick would much rather forget come to the surface. Thankfully, Jason’s there to catch him before he falls. ✦ The Winter of Our Discontent by BloodFromTheThorn, dick & bruce & jason & tim & alfred, 10.2k      Why did criminals always think that the best time to make a disturbance was in the middle of winter? Between the snow, Clayface and Scarecrow, Dick’s having a really bad day. It really doesn’t help that Batman’s late. ✦ The Universe Doesn’t Get to Take This by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & bruce & damian, 1.9k      “And they’re so important that you don’t come home to check on your recently un-amnesiac brother? And here, I thought I was your favorite.” BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT’LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ In This or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch, dick & bruce & alfred, 33.4k      Dick Grayson (DCU) accidentally lands himself in Battinson’s Gotham. ✦ I’m a Good Pretender by shipNslash, dick & bruce & alfred, 40.4k      Dick’s mother raised her son to be a star. Dick’s father raised his son to be an athlete. Bruce’s new ward is charming (manipulative), dedicated (obsessive), and way, way too smart for either of their own good. ✦ take these broken wings and learn to fly by fishingclocks, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 45.5k wip      or, How Dick Grayson Burrowed His Way Inextricably into the Heart of Bruce Wayne ✦ i turned around, there was nothing there by lwbones123, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.1k      the batman got me thinking about battinson with a robin. this is that. ✦ Robin’s Light by iammadeofmemories, dick & bruce, ~1k      ‘Lies still’. Murder weapon still missing, Why riddles? Why leave a code? And why— “B! Whatcha working on?” or, in which I throw nine-year-old Dick Grayson at Battinson.
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bonezone44 · 3 months
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'Doesn't Nothing Ever Last Forever?' (18+)
Raider!Joel x afab!Reader
Word Count: 5,4k
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(FYI: woman in moodboard is a side character.)
Summary: You worked in a brothel outside of a quarantine zone. Every once in a while, you got a visit from Joel and his men. This was your first time being around for one of those visits. (Reader is severely depressed and bisexual [relatable, amiright?]. Reader is not popular at the brothel.)
tags: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT (tagging this to be safe!) Kidnapping, sexual slavery, group sex, overstimulation, rough oral (m). POV switching, canon-typical violence. -- Sex between Reader and Joel is non-con. Reader enjoys it, but the larger context doesn't allow for consent. Fingering, unprotected p-in-v. Degradation. Finger-sucking. Spanking. Orgasm control/denial. Joel is turned on by Reader's history w/ women. Reader is called slut, good girl, bad girl. Reader calls Joel "sir."
A/N: Written for @iamasaddie's writing challenge. ✏ I was so excited by their moodboards, I had to participate. Also, read @toxicanonymity for the original Raider!Joel which heavily inspired this one. 🙏 And special thanks to @milla-frenchy for helping me choose a story line. 😘
story masterlist - main masterlist
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The days bled together, one right after the other. No matter how clear the skies were, a permanent fog had taken over your mind. 
The only reason you woke up that evening was all the commotion. You heard the roar of diesel engines and loud men laughing and yelling. The slamming of car doors. Then those voices got louder and closer. Obviously, they had made their way inside your building. You knew you should rise and shine. Get to work. But you stayed curled up on your bed cushion in the shared room as long as possible. Even after your boss had been calling for you.
It wasn’t the kind of job you punched in and out of. You lived in a brothel. You were paid by the client–and even then sometimes all you got was a spare coin or two. A ration slip, if you were really lucky. But those could only be spent at the nearby Quarantine Zone. And the four hour trek there and back was hell on your feet and knees.
Your boss, Larry, finally opened the door to your room, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he allowed the noise and chaos to do the job of waking you up.
You unfurled from the floor and wandered to the bathrooms, bare fit sticking to the tile floors. You had hoped no one would catch you and make you work. You hadn’t had it in you to do anything that day. What you really wanted to do was float away, fly with the clouds on the wind to somewhere far, far over the rainbow.
You found Trisha at the sinks, under the sickly green lights, already washing cum from her hands. 
“Joel and his crew are here again,” she mumbled. There was a tremor in her voice.
You nodded blankly. Tired.
She turned around and stared at you with wide eyes. “Joel,” she emphasized.
“Okay?” You shrugged. Your eyes bored into a growing mold stain in the corner.  
She scoffed. “Joel is the guy who bought Carrie.”
“What?” … ‘Bought Carrie?’ That didn’t sound right to you. “I just thought… she left.”
Trisha stared at you, aghast. The room was cold, but steam began to fog the mirror. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were there!” She shouted. “You were there when Larry told us he sold her for the fucking water heater!” She pointed at the filling sink.
You blinked. “...Oh.” You wiped your eyes with your hands. “I don’t… really remember.” Her words didn’t quite click it into place for you, but a dull memory played in the back of your mind. You remembered a ‘house meeting’ and hearing Carrie’s name a lot. You remembered getting the water heater. You remembered everyone being upset and yelling at Larry. You remembered curling in the corner, your brain checking out and wandering through the static of your own mind rather than feeling something–anything–in your own body.
That explained all the weird looks you had gotten later when you expressed excitement over the hot water. You had been happy about something for once and everyone responded by staring at you like you were a freak. 
But everyone you had ever met always felt so far away. Like you were so deep in the depths of your own mind that the world around you was a movie you were watching. All the people in your life were characters playing out their roles. So you did, too. You went through the daily motions, following some imaginary script in your mind. Playing a part. Doing whatever you thought you were supposed to.
Trisha started telling you more stories about Joel and his crew. About their violence. But none of it sounded real. It sounded like another movie to you. You stood, unmoving, wishing you had some bleach to clean the mold in the corner. You wanted to scrub the grout until it was pure again. Wipe away the layer of filmy mildew from the ceramic tiles. Disinfect every inch of porcelain in this piece of shit building. 
Another woman entered the bathroom, fully nude. “Well, look who decided to show up!” she spat at you. “Go out there and do your job. I need a fucking break.”
You sighed and resigned yourself to your fate. “Okay,” you muttered without meeting her eyes. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror or worrying about your clothes. You knew that in your line of work, they didn’t make a difference either way.
-
You walked out to the main room and saw about a dozen men scattered around the couches, women in their laps or on their knees. 
One woman was sitting naked in a guy’s lap while another guy roughly rubbed and slapped her clit. His laughter grossed you out. The woman was crying.  
Another woman was getting facefucked and choking. She pulled back to cough and breathe. The man she was sucking on held himself in a tight grip. He pushed the hair from her face and whispered softly to her, wiping away her tears, before shoving his cock right back in.
You nodded at the scene unaffected… well, mostly unaffected. You stared into the middle distance and focused on no one person in particular. The women’s moans were mostly performative–it was obvious. But the men didn’t seem to mind. Their moans were hungry and horny, enjoying whatever stimulation they seemed to be receiving. So that was what you focused on. Their blatant sexual desire. It fueled your own heat. A fire expanding in your chest and between your legs. Your mouth began to water. You sucked in your bottom lip, eager to feel flesh inside you. 
You weren’t sure how long you were standing there, watching. It merely occurred to you at some point that one of the men was walking up to you, blocking your view of the scene. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over a v-neck shirt.  A small, shiny gold cross hung around his neck and against his sunburned skin. He wore blue jeans and work boots.
Your boss, Larry, yammered in one of your ears at him.
“Joel,” he pleaded with clasped hands. “I’m sure you’d prefer someone like Trisha or-or-or Cameron. I’m sure, she’ll be right back out any minute!”
“No,” Joel says gruffly. “Her,” he pointed to you with his chin. 
“I’m sure. I’m sure.” Your boss chuckled uncomfortably and surrendered with empty palms. “Of course!” He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you toward the back of the building. He snarled in your ear. “Don’t fuck this up for me.” 
You wanted to shrug him off, but his grip was bruising. What could you ‘fuck up’ exactly? You had been working there for over a year. You weren’t popular, but you got the job done. You didn’t get along with any of the other women there, but what did that have to do with this guy, Joel?
Larry took you and Joel to one of the farthest rooms. It was the nice one with a real bed instead of a mattress or cushion on the floor. You had never been in it before. Not even to clean it. You looked around appraising the paint on the walls. There was a window, but it was dark out. The noise from the main room was barely audible. You liked being somewhere quiet again. 
#######
Joel and his crew pulled up around dinnertime in two pick-up trucks. The sun had set and the truck’s headlights bathed the front of the old office building in a warm, dull yellow.
The crickets were louder than hell that night. Joel remembered that much.
Not five seconds after his boys hopped out the trucks did the brothel owner come skittering out the front door with a nervous grin on his face.
Joel liked that. Piece o’ shit like that should be nervous. 
Joel hated Larry. The man was fucking pathetic. Weasel-y. So needy and desperate to please. Joel hated that Larry sold him a woman for a water heater. What kinda man would do something like that? This was supposed to be a brothel. The women were supposed to be his employees. He didn’t have the right to sell anybody.
But Joel had wanted her. And taking her outright would have caused more problems than it would have solved. So he figured a water heater would help keep things peaceful between them. Because his boys liked the brothel. Each little trip helped ease their minds. Gave them something to talk about and look forward to–something other than survival.
Joel’s needs were more permanent. He needed something more full-time rather than once every few months.
His boys started hooting and hollering as soon as the payment of supplies were unloaded and they got to hang out inside. The women weren’t even around yet, but they were more than ready for some physical entertainment. Joel remained standing while the rest of them spread out along the decaying leather couches lining the walls. A shitty little cd player sat in the corner playing old R&B music. He heard his brother, Tommy, singing along to it. 
Joel sighed and wiped his face with his hands.
Once Larry brought out a few women, the men started roaring. They were shouting and cheering, pulling their cocks out in excitement. Joel groaned. These boys didn’t know a goddamn thing about seducing a woman and their sad little dicks weren’t gonna get them anywhere neither.
Two of the guys grabbed one of the women, causing her to shout, but Joel was on them not a second later. He gripped their skulls, one in each of his giant hands, and knocked them together like coconut shells. 
“Ouch! What the hell, man?” asked one of them, rubbing the sore spot on his head. 
Joel shook his head with his eyes wide, boring into the depths of their souls. “Not until I say,” he spat.
They both tucked their heads under, murmuring. “Yes, Joel.” “Whatever you say, Joel.”
The woman got back in line while the boys sat down on the couch.
“I’m sure I’ve got a couple more on the way,” said Larry with a forced smile. “They’re just getting themselves cleaned up, I’m sure, after uh…  after finishing dinner.”
Joel grunted. He knew what he wanted–knew what kind of woman he was looking for. And he was quick to realize that none of the women in the room were it. So he waved his hand and his men let loose.
Joel stood with his arms crossed and his back against the front door. He kept his eye on the two troublemakers. Kept his ear on Tommy. Tommy was a talker. He loved to chat up the working women as if he was in a bar back home in Texas and looking to find himself a girlfriend. Joel thought Tommy was being ridiculous—acting like the women could say ‘no’ and walk away. Like he had to put real effort in. It annoyed the hell out of Joel. He wanted his crew to have their fun and be done with it. Why did Tommy have to make it so complicated?
Joel was getting bored and antsy the longer he waited. He was feeling needy, too, with the rough sounds of sex filling the air around him. But he was hopeful, preferring to be patient. And if, in the end, there was no woman he wanted, he would pick one at random and blow off some steam. He would find a replacement some other time or start looking around at the nearest Quarantine Zone.
  Then you walked in. 
And at first, Joel was ready to shrug you off, too. Sure, you were attractive. But looks weren't everything. That's what got him in trouble with the last woman. 
But something in your eyes changed as you scanned the room, taking in the sexual depravity. You didn't shrink in and shut down. You were turned on. He saw the way your chest rose and fell as your breaths shallowed and shortened. The way you chewed your bottom lip. The way you squirmed. That's what Joel needed. Someone as needy as him. 
The brothel owner tried to dissuade him. Huh, Joel wanted to laugh. As if that asshole knew a goddamn thing about what Joel wanted–about what Joel needed.
-
“Take your clothes off ‘n get on the bed,” he ordered after slamming the door shut behind him. He liked how quickly you complied. He didn’t understand why you were so calm, though. He unbuckled his belt, releasing the pressure from his stomach and allowing himself some room to breathe. He let the buckle hang and it jingled as he stepped closer to the bed. 
“All fours.”
Again, you complied swiftly and smoothly, facing the back wall.
He eyed you for any sores. Then he slipped his bare hand around the smooth curve of your ass and his fingertips prodded around your lips and entrance. You were already wet, he realized.  He slid the edge of his fingers forward against your clit. 
You moaned. Something fake and bland. 
He pulled his hand away and slapped you on the ass. “Hey.”  He grabbed you by the cheeks when you didn't immediately face him. Your eyes never met his. “Don't fuckin showboat me,” he warned. 
“Okay,” you said flatly. 
He didn’t like how detached you were. How unafraid. But he willed himself to be patient–the amount of wetness coating his fingers eased his anxiety. He continued to play with your folds as he asked questions.
He cleared his throat. “You like workin here?”
You shrugged. “It’s a job.”
“How long you been here?”
“About a year.”
Joel hummed. “I don’t remember you from last time.”
“Probably had the flu.” 
“You got over it okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, closing your eyes. You seemed to like it when he moved his thick fingers around you real slow. He liked that.
“You got anything else? Any diseases?”
You shook your head. “I don’t get a lot of men.”
Joel paused. “Why not?”
You shrugged. “I dunno. They like the other girls better.”
“Why’s that?”
You shrugged again. “They’re better at fakin it.”
Joel didn’t know how to feel about that answer. He continued to rub your clit, feeling you get slicker. “So what? You do handjobs, blowjobs?”
“Mostly.”
He noticed an uptick in the tone of your voice. “You like doin those?”
“If the guy is cute.”
He slid his fingers from your clit to your entrance to your other hole. He didn’t push in, only pressed against it, and you sighed. “What about this?” he asked, biting his lip. “You like gettin your ass played with?”
You hung your head and nodded. “If they do it right,” you said with another uptick in your tone. 
Joel liked that. “Ever have a train run on ya?” He slid his fingers back to your clit.
“Yeah,” you answered with a whimper. 
“You like it?”
Your breath hitched as Joel’s fingers sped up. “Been through worse.”
“Worse? Here?” Joel asked, wondering what could happen at a brothel that was worse than a gang-bang.
“No just… you know…” you sighed with pleasure. “--in general.” 
Joel furrowed his brows. You were being honest with him. Too honest, in his opinion. But you were rolling your hips into his hand. And he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.
He shoved two fingers inside of you without warning. Your body twitched and you moaned–and it was different this time. Quieter. Realer. Joel liked that. He didn’t mind taking his time to get you ready if he knew you would enjoy it. 
“You like fuckin, huh?”
“Who doesn’t?” You snickered, pushing back into his thrusting hand.
Joel took a deep breath, maintaining his composure. But he knew then that he wanted you. That you were just what he needed and more.
#######
You liked this Joel guy. He took his time. He was asking you questions, trying to get to know you. You don’t remember the last time anyone had done that. …Well, maybe when you first started working there. Trisha and Carrie and a couple of the other women tried, but this felt different for some reason. Like it was leading somewhere. Like there was a promise at the end of it. Like maybe he really wanted to make you come and he wasn’t just there for himself. 
And you liked his voice. It was smoky and deep. He had an accent like a cowboy. It was comforting, in a way.
And his fingers felt nice. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't remember the last time a guy got you that wet with just his hand.
Part of you felt a little hopeful. You thought you might finally get to have some fun like the other girls did. Most of the guys you got were ugly or just plain ol’ depressing. Another part of you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason. You’re not sure why she kept coming up in your mind. You two never worked together. You barely knew her at all.
-
“You ever fuck the other women here?” Joel asked. 
“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in proud affirmation. It even pulled a smile from you. 
“What's that mean?”
You weren’t sure how you expected him to react. You weren’t sure why you answered that way. “It means… yeah,” you replied while embarrassment burned your cheeks. You had barely looked at him before, but now you really didn’t want to see his face.
“Yeah, you like fuckin women?” His voice turned breathy. You heard his buckle jingle and the slide of the zipper of his jeans. 
 It turned you on to know that he liked that. Some men hated it. Made you feel like shit for it. But man, this Joel guy was something else. It made you want more of him. More of his fingers. His voice. His skin. “Yeah,” you moaned and shoved yourself harder into his hands, thrusting his fingers deeper.
“So what? You lick their pussies? Rub your little cunts together?”
Your mouth hung open from his words. “yeah,” you said with a hot breath. He pulled his fingers from inside of you and drew circles on your clit. You started whimpering. You nodded your head as fire burned in your core and across your skin. 
“That’s why you work here, huh? You got a needy little cunt?”
His fingers were moving so fast, the muscles in your legs were jumping and your toes were curling. “Uh-huh,” you moaned loud enough for your voice to echo around the bare room.
“That why you left the Q-Z? This slutty hole wasn’t get fucked enough?” His fingers slid back inside your entrance. You’re not sure how many he stuffed in, but it was more than before. 
You nodded with a desperate moan, your right leg slapping the mattress beneath you in frustration. You needed more. His fingers, his words–they weren’t enough. Your body was hot and sparking and you needed-needed-needed. “Joel, please,” you begged, turning to face him, finally opening your eyes again. He was stroking himself and the sight of his cock made you drool. 
“Whatchu need, sweetheart?” He asked and you could almost kill him for it.  
“Please, please fuck me, Joel. Please.”
“Need it that bad, huh?” He kicked off his boots and shoved his pants all the way down to the floor. 
You got out of the way as he crawled into the bed and sat up against the headboard. 
“Come and get this cock, you fuckin slut,” he growled. One hand held his length while the other pulled you by the arm. 
You were too hungry to notice how tightly he gripped you. You hovered over his lap as he lined himself up with your entrance. You stared at the curve of his lips on the way down, the mix of gray and brown hairs in his mustache. But there was white on his cheeks and chin. You briefly wondered how old he was. But you couldn’t bring yourself to get a good look at his face. Too busy melting from the pressure of his cock stretching your walls. Fuck, it felt good. You braced yourself on his firm, wide shoulders and brought your hips back up a few inches before sinking down on his length even further. You groaned and tucked your head into his neck.
#######
You started sucking on his neck and his hips began to thrust up into you.
“It ain’t enough that I’m stuffin your cunt?” he grunted. “You need me in your mouth, too?”
You moaned against his throat, sending goosebumps all over his skin. “Yeah,” you said through panting breaths, before latching back on, teeth and tongue digging into his muscle. 
Joel liked you. He really liked you. You were wet and riding him just right. You weren’t mechanical about it, neither–like Joel was just another job to you. There was a sadness to you, sure. It was probably why you didn’t get a lot of men. Men wanted to forget their troubles at the brothel. Have some fun. They wanted the world outside to disappear with their cock inside a woman.
But Joel had tried that. And it hadn’t worked out so good.
So this time, he looked for someone different. Someone who would understand. Someone who would get why he needed to fuck and when and how he needed to fuck, too. 
And you were telling him everything he needed to know. He was learning what you wanted and what you liked and what he could use to threaten you into compliance. 
He pulled you away from his neck, not sure how he felt about being covered in hickeys. “Here,” Joel prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger. “Suck on this, you greedy little slut.”
And you did, moaning desperately as you rolled your hips in his lap. You gagged as he slid his fingers back and forth on your tongue, saliva spilling from the edges of your lips and down your chin. Your eyes were closed and he knew there was nothing going on in your mind. He knew you were focused on nothing but how good he was making you feel.
You started bouncing on his cock and he slapped your ass with his free hand. He gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, forcing you to stop.
“Did I say you could do that?”
Your eyes popped open–meeting his directly. You tried to pull your head away to answer, but Joel shoved his fingers in even further.
He repeated himself. “You tryin to come right now? Did I say you could?”
You let out a pathetic whine and shook your head.
He slapped your ass again and this time he noticed your pussy clench around him. He heard a small moan grow and die in your throat. “You come when I fuckin say you can come,” he snarled with his teeth clenched. He smacked your asscheek again and thrust up into you. 
You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut. 
“That turn you on?” He gripped your ass in his hand. “You like takin’ your medicine, bad girl?”
You tried to turn your head, but Joel still had his fingers in your mouth and he held you in place. You looked at him with the most pathetic, pleading look.
“I asked you a question,” Joel growled with wide eyes. His cock twitched inside of you. “You like takin’ your medicine? You like bein told what to do?”
You squeezed your eyes shut again and quietly nodded.
Joel liked that. He liked that a lot. He took his fingers from your mouth and gripped your cheeks. Your eyes popped open again. He licked his lips. “You be a good girl and make me come first, then we’ll see what you get, okay?”
You nodded.
“Now what do you say?”
Your brows furrowed. 
“When I tell you what to do, what do you say?”
Your face softened. You blinked slowly before answering. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s right.” Joel grunted and thrusted his hips. “Now, make me come, you little slut.” His fingers dug into your own hips to guide your rhythm to what he wanted. “Make me come and we’ll see what you get.”
“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” you murmured again and again.
Your warm, wet cunt sucked him in and stroked him. He could hear it, too, how drippy and turned on you were. It wasn’t long before he tossed you off him with a grunt, throwing you onto your back on the bed. He only fisted his cock twice before shooting his spend on your spread open pussy, on the hair on your mound. He wiped his cum down and around on your clit. “Come on, girl. You can come now. Come on,” he chanted. He rubbed your clit back and forth with the flat of his four fingers. “Give that greedy little cunt what it needs. Come on.”
Your body curled in as you orgasmed and you moaned loudly into your arm. Joel didn’t see the need for you to be quiet, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He rubbed you with his thumb until your legs clasped shut and you squirmed away.
He wiped his hands on the sheets and got up from the bed. He pulled his jeans back on, but waited to buckle his belt. He sat back down and put his shoes on.
You were still lying where he left you. Curled up in the fetal position. It almost looked like you were falling asleep. He figured you might as well rest up now. The drive back home was a bumpy one.
He sighed when he stood up. He figured he should get the liquor bottles out of the truck sooner than later. He huffed. Larry was a real piece of shit for trading a woman for liquor. But Joel wanted you. And he was gonna have you.
#######
You were reeling. Sexually, you were satisfied, but every other emotion bursted and channeled itself through your muscles and across your skin. You felt so vulnerable. This man had seen you–seen you! Like you were a real person or something! Like you weren’t just a ghost or a character in a movie! Everything felt wrong and you couldn’t figure out why. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason.
You stayed as still as possible until you heard Joel’s booted footsteps leave the room. You were grateful he didn’t say anything or try to touch you again. Your body trembled as you got out of the bed. You walked on shaky legs to the bathrooms to clean yourself. The world around you was so close and too clear. You could hear and differentiate everyone’s voices in the main room. The air was humid and you could taste it–actually taste it like it was a wet, moldy cloud in your mouth. 
Your hands tremored. You tried to exert control over them, but you were barely able to turn on the sink. You mostly swatted at the faucets until water came out. And there was no comfort to be had in the warm, rushing water. You noticed tension in your cheeks and thought you wanted to cry, but couldn’t make any tears come out.
The woman in the mirror scared you. It was you. You knew it was you. But she felt unfamiliar. Three dimensional. You wanted to run. Run away to the Quarantine Zone or—or anywhere but here.
Then you heard screaming, shrill screams from what had to be one of the other women. Suddenly you were being dragged out of the bathroom. Trisha’s hands were on you. Her fingers were small and thin and her skin was smooth and cold. You had never noticed before.
The lights in the main room were so bright that you could see everything. Every small piece of leather that had flaked off each of the couches and landed on the dirty, carpeted floor. The carpet itself was covered in dust and dirt and leaves. Where did the leaves come from? you wondered. How did they get tracked inside? Weren’t people wiping their shoes like they were supposed to?
There were people moving around. Naked. Half-naked. Clothed. All talking over each other. And blood. Bright red blood. One of the women, with long gold hair, was covered in it, shrieking in pain with both her hands on her hip. Two others guided her past you towards the back. One of Joel’s men was apologizing to Larry. He had black curly hair and a thick mustache. Larry was screaming in his face.
You saw Joel from the back as he pushed himself up from the couch. His shoulder rose and fell with deep, heaving breaths. There was blood dripping from his fist and there was someone beneath him. Once he stepped away, you saw an oblong fleshy ball of bright red where a face should have been. The body beneath the ball didn’t move. 
You folded in half and started heaving. Trisha shrieked in your ear. 
“I’m so sick of you assholes coming here and-and-and-and–” Larry was caught in a loop as he pulled his gun from his pocket. It was a small revolver. You watched his gray-skinned thumb pull back the hammer. “I’m sure! I’m sure!” he yelled over the shouting.
The man with the black curly hair lunged at Larry with a curse. 
The gun-shot stilled everyone in the room. It was loud enough that for a moment, you thought you had been shot. The vibrations pierced you to the very center of your being. But then… Larry was on the floor. Sprinkled with dust from the ceiling tile. And then there was more blood. Bright red blood spilling out from his body. 
You breathed in relief. Not only that you were still alive, but that it was Larry that was dead. For a few beautiful seconds, you felt free. Free from his bullshit and free from the brothel. Free to go back to the quarantine zone and start over again.
Trisha’s smooth fingers pulled one of your arms, but something warm and calloused pulled your other. You looked up, confused. It was Joel. Joel’s hand, which had been on you only minutes previous, felt so strange and unfamiliar. You had just shared a bed with him but–that had been a different man. Certainly different than the one that stood before you now with blood-splattered on his clothes and sweat beading around his temples. 
“You can’t take her!” Trisha cried, tears pouring out her eyes. “You can’t take her!”
“Sorry, darlin’,” he said. Joel’s eyes looked sad. “She’s mine now.”
Terror fell over you like a cold, biting wind. He was talking about you.
Your body started trembling again. You tried and failed to pull your arm away from his grip. “NO!” You shouted. Your vision went blurry as you sobbed. “Don’t take me! Please!” That was why you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie. Joel had bought Carrie. Trisha had told you that Joel had bought Carrie. But the information hadn’t clicked into place. You had spent so long avoiding your body, avoiding feeling any emotion at all that when it spent all night trying to warn you, you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t feel the siren in your gut telling you to stay away from Joel. And now that siren was loud and clear. But it was far too late for you to do anything about it. “Don’t take me! Pleasepleaseplease!”
Joel didn’t budge. He leaned in real close to you. “Now you told me you like bein told what to do.” Your face went fiery hot with shame. He yanked your arm, pulling you from Tasha’s grip. “And right now, I’m tellin you that you’re comin with me.” He continued to pull you out the front door, towards his truck.
“No! Nonono!” You cried. You tried one more time to shake him off, but it was pointless. He was too strong. You were too weak. And you started to wonder if you could have prevented this or if it was simply your fate. Your own boss hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to these men. What could someone like you have done?
You sobbed into your hands as you sat in the truck. The man with the black curly hair got in the driver’s seat. Joel sat on the other side of you and rubbed your back in some sick attempt at comfort. “You be good for me–” he said, adjusting himself. “--then we’ll see what you get.” 
+++++
a/n: Please let me know if I missed a tag. Also, idk if it's really a DDDNE story or not. ??
story title taken from the song "Mary the Ice Cube" by Primus.
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purgatory-if · 6 months
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demo (tba) | faq | masterpost (you are here.) | art cred @aykaypee
You’re in danger, and every fiber of you knows it.
You’re sure, by now, that no matter what you do you won’t be able to stop it. Maybe that’s a good thing.
...This is the end.
You wish you had something that would remember you.
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... YOUR life is a mystery to you when you wake up in the sunny fields of Purgatory. Apparently death isn't supposed to be a full memory wipe to the soul, but that's no problem, right? There's usually some sort of record kept of this kind of thing. If not for special cases like yours, then at the very least for organizational purposes. You're told all of that, assured that nothing is wrong and that this jsut 'happens' sometimes up until the moment they look for yur death and find nothing to speak of. Nothing of your life, either, just to make a bad time even worse.
Without knowing anything like this, it's safe to say that it'll be impossible to pass on. The underworld isn't built for fringe cases like you and even if it was, not even knowing who you were is disconcerting at best and cause for crisis at worst.
So alright. It shouldn't be too hard to find out how one person died, right? Detectives and story characters do it all the time- and now you have all the time in the world.
You should, anyways.
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... FEATURES include:
play as a seriously unlucky pc whose cause of death depends on which route you decide to pursue
be whoever you want to be! standard for ifs nowadays; things such as pronouns, general appearance, personality all that jazz
8 romance options (mostly fem/non-binary, 1 option you can choose the gender of) and the ability to play as aro and/or ace
at least 4 poly romance routes!
love me some good vanity stats! vanity stats
get recruited (read: forced) into a 9-5 where time isn't real
beat up time
really symbolic mythology! i could write a goddamn essay on these fuckers
... PURGATORY is recommended for players over the age of 15, though I’m not going to police what you do on the internet. The game will contain major character death and death of all kinds, what is probably sacrilege, memory loss, fantasy violence, potentially sexually suggestive scenes and dialogue (hi ama.), morally dubious behaviour, and more. In-depth content warnings for each chapter and specific routes will be released at a later date.
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... 'MAIN' CHARACTERS
THE DIVINE.
Angel (prns selectable) / Witty, charismatic, more than a little bloodthirsty, there's a certain volatility about someone who is Fate embodied. While they take their time on the many, many field missions necessary for stability in the multiverse or whatever very seriously, they'll put their restless passion into anything if it catches their eye for long enough.
Achlys (they/them) / Death itself, stoic and sharp and more than a little intimidating, it's hard not to let their mere presence get under your skin. While it would be nice to say that's not an intentional effect, the only unintentional thing about them is the fact that they're down here, of all places. They seem to be making the best of it.
Esme (they/them) / An angel in what is certainly an analogy for hell, classic, isn't it? They're little more than a shambling mess in a skirt if we're being honest, oh so scared of any shadow that moves in the corner of their vision. They truly do wear their heart on their sleeve, which seems to be an invitation for some to try and stop its frantic beat.
Amaterasu (she/they) / Don't let her meet your parents, is the only advice I'd give, because she'd be gunning for at least a threesome by the time starters are served. Unflinchingly forward and seductive, they're horribly charming in the most impermanant of ways. There's nothing she'll shy away from trying sooner or later, it seems, in or out of the bedroom.
THE MORTALS.
Viviana Alatorre (she/her) / Businesslike. Some people really don't change when they die, and going to this office just means you see the sun less on your coimmute. She doesn't appear to be dead, or alive, something in the middle. Out of everyone here, she's probably the most terrifying. Even more than the death god, probably because she's actively working towards terror.
Ailbhe Kahinu (she/it) / There's nothing that troubles Ailbhe, and it wouldn't be concerning if she was... y'know, dead. In the face of certain terror, it faces things with a shrug and a sigh. At least she's good-natured about this whole thing, being dragged down here by both her girlfriend (Vivi) and her sister (Rahley). The prices here are better than aboveground, anyways.
Rahley Kahinu (she/her) / Rahley's been compared to a robot more than one time, and while the comparison probably wasn't in good faith that doesn't mean it was necessarily wrong. She's intensely focused on her work, and her skill in that department seems to have drained her ability in things like basic conversation and empathy. So it goes.
M Blankenship (prns selectable) / Previously called 'Hit 'N Run' in the world of roller derby, the violent nickname seems odd on someone as cheerful as M. They act as a sort of tour guide for souls entering the Underworld proper instead of hanging around Purgatory, and it's hard to say their easy extroversion makes them anything worse than great at their job.
THE CONSTANTS.
Stratos C. Lusse (he/him) / The eternal guide to Purgatory for souls lost, souls found and all who are inbetween. He seems to have been here the longest--minus all of the deities, of course.
Octavia Hardin (she/her) / The part-time guide to Purgatory. She seems more likely to throw your soul into damnation if you cross her or anybody she cares about. Stay on her good side!
Salem Astor (she/her) / She would be a romance option if I had the energy to code in a shop feature. But I don't. So she runs free through the city.
Abbadon (prns selectable) / Personification of the past. If anyone can help you figure out what the hell happened to you, then they should be the one to go to. Sometime in the next 5 centuries would be ideal.
Maliel (prns selectable) / Personification of the future. Again, probably someone who can find out in a second what you'll know when you figure out this mystery, if you're able to find them at a good time. The woes of being a primordial deity.
...and more! Probably. Co-workers, pirates, other deities but this is running long.
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softlyspector · 1 year
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Bec I have daddy issues…
Could you maybe do a tiny blurb of Joel comforting the reader after a night terror? Idk if he’s canonically soft enough for that but I choose to believe that he is.
Also I love your writing you bless me everyday w your words
Joel Miller + comfort after a nightmare
A/N: I think Joel is canonically soft enough to try to offer comfort if he already cares about someone (at least from the show). He's a caretaker to his core, so I think that would be something he'd do. And if there's anyone that's gonna soften up a character its gonna be me babeyyy.
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When you jerk awake, Joel is hovering over you.
He's not touching you, but you think he might have been a second before. Your shoulder aches with warmth, like Joel had been trying to shake you awake.
"Sorry," you mutter, keeping your voice low as you sit up. "Was I making noise?"
"No," he answers, sitting back to give you space.
The room is dark and quiet, a soft snow peppering down outside. The house creaks, settling into the cold, into the wind that howls beyond the glass.
You nod, choking back the feelings flooding your chest, the dregs of panic still ebbing away. A throbbing pain settles at the base of your skull, a kicking kind of ache that sends the remains of the dream, the nightmare, spinning through your mind.
"Just movin' around a lot," Joel continues, the cut of his voice just edging on worried.
You hadn't expected him to say anything else.
You want him to let you have this moment in privacy, to lie back down and pretend he can't hear you struggling to catch your breath.
Joel is looking at you, but you can't meet his gaze.
"Sorry," you say again, trapping your arms around your body when you lean forward, dropping your head down. If you just held on tight enough, you wouldn't fall apart, that ache in the middle of your chest wouldn't consume your heart.
"It's alright," he says. The warm swell of his words soothes you. "Ellie still gets 'em like that sometimes. She'll wake me up with her yellin'."
But you aren't Ellie; you aren't a child. "Right," you say, a sour feeling worming around your belly. Usually you're able to shake the dreams off easier. Tonight it lingers. "I didn't mean to wake you," you manage. Before he can say anything else you lie down and roll so your back faces Joel.
You stare at the snow through the window, knowing you won't go back to sleep. The guilt and embarrassment for having not only woken Joel, but let him see you so frazzled, sits heavily on your chest.
It's a thick snow, the kind that obscures and never fully settles. The blinding kind of snow, that makes the world feel small.
A long few minutes pass before Joel finally lies back down behind you, the mattress creaking beneath him as he shifts. You wonder what he's thinking, why it took him so long to lie back again.
You squeeze your eyes closed, willing the tears pressing hotly at the back of your eyes to dissipate. It feels a little like battling a storm, like fighting something formless, colorless, indefinite, and undefinable.
A long moment passes while you wait for Joel to fall asleep again, or roll over onto his side, or at least stop thinking so damn loudly.
Instead, you feel one broad palm slot gently against your spine. You freeze, but he doesn't remove his hand. The light pressure increases, firmer against your shoulders and back.
The warmth of his palm through your t-shirt is comforting. "It's alright," he repeats, like he knows exactly where your head is, as his hand trails down your back and then back up.
Your breath hitches with suppressed emotion, both from the dream and Joel's hand against your spine, soothing you as carefully as he can.
It's odd. You've watched him commit unbelievable, unimaginable violence, and yet he's capable of moments like these, small acts of unending, enduring love.
That violence, too, you suppose, was for love. Love for Ellie, and Tommy, and Tess, and even you.
You don't turn, don't move, but you do close your eyes. The memories, the images of the nightmare, don't come so quickly this time. The knot in your chest loosens, and the cold fingers gripping at your insides fades.
Joel slides closer behind you, his chest pressed to your back. He slides his arm around you, pressing the flat of his palm against your sternum. The pressure of it helps, and your breathing eases.
You hadn't realized you were still struggling to catch your breath. You suck in a breath, and open your eyes again to stare at the snow.
"It's alright," he soothes once more, his gruff voice like honey in tea.
You still don't answer, and instead curl your hand around his, linking your fingers through the backs of his and squeezing tight.
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yanderes-galore · 7 months
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@okchijt
@shinjisdone if you still like BOTW mutual.
I hope this came out well- It's not really gorey but Zelda never usually is so-
Yandere! BOTW! Link Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Mentions of death, Manipulation, Dubious affection, Dubious/Forced relationship.
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Like other Links in the past timelines, Link is also a quiet hero.
He most likely met you after his century long rest and resurrection.
If you think of what this Link has gone through... he's certainly been through a lot.
He's died trying to defend the kingdom, he wakes up to see all he cares about dead, he's alone as he tries to fix Hyrule.
Having a companion to help him along the way could potentially cause obsession.
He has no other companions when he first wakes up and begins to train.
Zelda is locked away to keep Ganon from growing in power.
The Champions have died with their spirits locked away in the Divine Beasts.
Sure, he gets companions and allies as he explores.
But his journey still feels rather lonely.
Not only that but he may not even remember them due to his memory loss.
You are the face that greets him when he manages to make it way into a village.
It's a surprise to see Link of all people 100 years after the battle.
However, you still make an effort to aid the hero.
Link notices the hope in your eyes as you offer him whatever supplies he may need.
You offer tools, scavenged weapons, food, water, whatever.
You even offer companionship.
Link naturally finds himself drawn to your helpful nature.
Your companionship touches his heart, friends are something Link needs during his journey.
You offer him a bed to rest and buy trinkets he finds to sell to you.
You help him find a good stable and horse to use on his travels.
The first village he visits, your village, he often revisits.
He hates that he doesn't remember much of anything.
All he knows is he has a purpose, even if his memories have been wiped away.
Part of him uses this to start new.
He allows you to be the first companion in his journey, one he can rely on as he grows stronger.
Link would still do what he's fated to do.
He'd challenge shrines to regain his strength.
Then he'd use such strength to aid Zora's Domain, Rito Village, Death Mountain, and Gerudo Valley.
Yet when it comes to rest, Link always treks back to your village on horse back.
It's like each day the knight of Princess Zelda comes back to you stronger.
He gives you a soft smile and holds out little things he's found for you.
You are too scared to leave your village most of the time due to Ganon's monsters.
So Link makes you feel like you're on this journey with him by gifting you treasures.
They're little gifts from him, it shows he cares.
Link's attachment to you grows as his journey continues.
He's silent, often speaking in actions more than words.
He's playful at times when he sees you again, encouraging you to hug him when he visits.
He takes you on horse back at times just to see things.
He promises to protect you outside of the village.
If any monster of malice threatens you, Link slays them with a blade and watches as the dark aura drains from them.
He apologizes with a hug that you nearly got hurt.
Truth is, he'd slay anything to protect you.
No matter how dirty the job is.
I feel Link trying to encourage romantic attraction between you would consist of gifts and physical affection.
He collects flowers on his journey to give you.
He collects shiny jewels for nothing but attention in return.
His hugs also appear to become longer the longer he's away.
Maybe he'll even sneak in a kiss on the cheek.
Before he lost his memories, Mipha and Zelda were potential partners he could choose.
But now... he only ever wants you.
In fact sometimes he wishes he didn't have to bear such responsibilities of piecing together Hyrule alone.
He just wants to settle down with you in your village.
He hates it when he has to part from you, especially for the final battle.
Even when he regains his memories, his thoughts of you stay rooted in his mind.
He no longer wants to be with Zelda romantically.
He's her knight, sure...
Yet he still wants you.
So when he comes back after saving Hyrule, why do you refuse him after everything?
You tell him he belongs with Zelda.
But he doesn't want that.
He wants you.
You seemed so susceptible to his affection before?
Every kiss, touch, hug, and gift....
Now... you won't embrace it.
You claim it was wrong to give into him, or that you never saw him in such a way.
Well... Link simply won't stand for that.
You've been a big help to him through his journey.
Even if you never physically came with, having somewhere to retreat to after battle felt fantastic with you.
Link isn't going to accept leaving you, he's tired of things never going his way.
So he decides he'll always stick by you, like it or not.
You can't get rid of him.
You can try to push, yell, and threaten him.
He doesn't listen.
He's fought off the evils of Hyrule just to be repaid with your affection.
He won't let you take that away from him now.
He's way stronger now and won't let you go.
You'll be safe with him... he promises to love you as repayment for helping him...
He's chosen to love you and no one else, even willing to even fight fate to stay beside you instead of anyone else.
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wolfsetfree-if · 4 months
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oh no. now i gotta 😅 so, i raise chickens. brooding hens are all different, some simply wake up and choose violence every day. buut some are very tolerant of people they know. sometimes, you have to take some of their eggs from underneath them for various reasons. some will try to peck you. but others will very politely tell you 'no sir' and reach out to gently slide the egg back in place. now i imagine the pack needing the kids for sth, homework or bath time. everyone seems asleep, so they try to gently slide the pups from underneath omega mc, only for mc to immediately tuck them back. and when the pack member tries to reason with mc, mc plays the 'apologies hooman i'm just a silly little wolf i don't understand a word you're saying have a good day' card
I love the implications here. One that omega MC (or either MC) basically hoards the pups for themselves and gently prevents anyone from stealing them.
Two that there is a "I don't understand human language, I'm just a big domesticated wolf" blank innocent look that werewolves use when they want to pretend they can't understand what you want.
I love all of this.
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oltammefru · 4 months
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What about Kal'tsit do you like so much
It's really really difficult for me to talk about absolutely everything I adore about Kal'tsit because there's So Much, but maybe the thing about Kal'tsit I like the most is just how much capital W Weird stuff she has going on, especially with regard to her own body and identity and flesh. This is going to be a little incoherent as a list.
She's described in SN as this sort of eldritch entity, something that ordinary humans will never be truly capable of understanding in SN:
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She's also incredibly Seaborn-coded.
She is quite inhuman at times, being a sort-of-machine made by the precursors, and having expressed the sentiment that she sometimes wishes she was an unthinking machine:
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But at the same time she's trying so so incredibly hard to be human:
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(this is from the A Walk in the Dust Medals).
She often behaves in a way that seems cold, unexpressive, and emotionless, but despite how she might seem on initial impression, she is incredibly compassionate and cares so so much about other people.
One of the most interesting aspects about her identity is just how attached she is to her own name Kal'tsit. It is perhaps the most important part of her own identity and how she sees herself.
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Even when she's sneaking into the Duke's place, instead of adopting a disguise, she just identifies herself as Kal'tsit anyway. We also see from her Module that her name is the first thing she remembers when she revives:
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It's an incredibly transgender narrative, her being an eldritch, inhuman machine made by her creators with the designation AMa-10, and her choosing to shrug off all that, to choose a name and identity for herself and to become human, which really really resonates with me.
I also really adore literally everything she has going on with her and Mon3tr. Like, she has an extremely fucking cool looking fucked up dragon/demon/thing that may be located in her spine in a way that's kind of messy and body horrory and is also
Kal'tsit's psychic yuri soulbonded companion on a journey that has gone on for millennia and will continue on for millennia yet and also
an ambiguous reflection of Kal'tsit, perhaps in particular her anger or rage or violence.
She and Mon3tr are just so incredibly cool and just that alone makes me so obsessed with her.
The struggles she has with her own identity is made even more messy by the fact that it's implied that the form she takes on presently (catgirl), is different than the forms she's taken on in the past.
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There's a certain degree of detachment and depersonalization she experiences from her previous selves, that really resonates with me. This is made especially interesting by the fact that Kal'tsit seems to have all her past memories, including those she experienced in previous lives while she was in a previous body. Does she have moments where she wakes up in a cold sweat, and think that she's in a different body, one that isn't hers anymore? Given that Mon3tr is a more enduring part of her physical self than her own body is, does she have any moments where she feels as if she is more Mon3tr than she is Kal'tsit?
Fuck. I love Kal'tsit so much. This is just a very small fraction of the vast ocean of things that I adore so much about Kal'tsit, but is probably a pretty good outline of it.
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