Tarn hadn’t broken his morning routine once. Wake up. Shower. Brush teeth. Check the cameras. Get breakfast. See how much paperwork he had to deal with for the day and prepare for any missions. But his favourite part of the morning was a recent addition to his schedule. At eleven-thirty sharp he’d bring breakfast to _. While it’s true that they were wary of him, they had no choice but to eat the food he gave him and Tarn relished in it.
Despite their best efforts, every aspect of their life was controlled by Tarn and Tarn alone. _’s walls were high, but the sheer social isolation eventually started to chip away at them. He would make sure to talk to them whenever he was with them. It would take a while, but Tarn could always work a reply out of them. It’s not like they could refuse him, and he could tell they were already starting to crack. He had to be careful not to push it too much at first. Patience would be key to winning their affections after all. But sometimes it was hard to resist the urge to just tilt up his mask and… well that was beside the point.
Walking into their room, _ was already awake. They had taken to sitting at their desk, drawing using the supplies Tarn had gotten them. They were conflicted about using the things Tarn had given them. On one hand they were doing exactly what he wanted by giving in and making use of his gifts. On the other hand, it’s not like there was any other option but to comply. Tarn’s reputation preceded him and knowing what he was capable of doing if he so pleased sent a chill down their spine.
Even with his reputation and capabilities however, he had yet to so much as lift a finger at any insubordination from _. If _ didn’t eat breakfast, nothing happened. If _ stayed in bed all day, the only difference in Tarn’s usual routine would be that he’d simply pull a chair next to the bed and sit as he recounted the glories of the Decepticon cause.
Despite Tarn’s seemingly infinite tolerance of their unwillingness to cooperate, _ made sure to never push it too far. This had only happened once. They hadn’t gotten out of bed, hadn’t eaten, so Tarn was sitting next to them droning on and on for hours about Decepticon history and how great the Decepticon cause was.
“As you can see in this section of Towards Peace Megatron says ‘Even if you believe in the taxonomy, ask yourself this: Who decides on that order? And then: Why should there be an order?’ What do you think about that, _?” _ didn’t particularly care about megatron or what he had to say about an old taxonomy and they were tired enough to voice their opinion.
“Ithink I don’t care. If anything I’m pissed at him because his number one enforcer is-”
In an instant his voice went from normal to threatening, sending a stab of pain through their heart. His hand held their arm and the collar of their shirt in a vice grip as he forcefully pulled them towards him, leaning in so his mask was pressed against their ear.
“_. Do not ever bring Megatron into this. Am. I. clear?”
“Tarn- I can’t br-” _ managed to choke out before he interrupted them.
“All you have to do is apologize, alright?” It was suffocating and nauseating at the same time. _ couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, and their arm was certainly bruised but they nodded fervently, anything to make it go away. Just as quickly as it had happened, Tarn gently set them down and the pain went away.
“Good. I’m so glad you understand. Are you alright?” The way he moved on like nothing had ever happened made a pit of dread pool in their stomach.
“… Yes.”
Tarn could see the fear in their eyes, and did feel bad for them. It’s true he may have gone too far with punishing them for their insolence, but as much as he loved them it was a necessary evil. Someday they will understand, he told himself. It’s for their own good. In the meantime, he’d have to make sure to take them outside as a treat.
Looking back on that incident made _ shiver. It was a stark reminder of how unpredictable Tarn could be, even on his best days. When he was happy, he’d be easy to placate. Sometimes he’d even take them to the library, though even then their every move was monitored closely and they were blindfolded on the way to and from there to make sure they couldn’t escape.
His worst days would more varied. Usually a bad day happened after an arduous mission or a long day with lots of paperwork. On those days would either talk for hours and hours about Megatron and his glory, or be absolutely silent, simply choosing to sit beside them.
But now as it reached 5 months of confinement _ had started on a plan, and all they could do was hope it would work.
_ woke up to the warmth of sunlight hitting their face. Yawning languidly, they had never felt so comfortable in their life. Since when was their bed this plush? They couldn’t bring themself to care until they attempted to find their phone on their nightstand and were met with an empty table. Not only that, as they opened their eyes they were shocked to find that they weren’t even in their own house.
The room they were in reminded _ of a castle, luxurious and grand. It was practically fit for royalty with its four poster bed cozy lounging area. But when _ sat up to look around, they swayed in their spot. Their body felt weak and their head swam, but with a few more attempts _ managed to stand up only to fall flat on their face. I… why can’t I move?
“Oh dear, are you alright?” _ grasped the gloved hand that reached out to them, but when they saw who came to help them their blood ran cold. A dark purple mask may have concealed his face but _ wasn’t stupid. Even babies knew not to mess with a Decepticon, much less the Decepticon Justice Division.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” They couldn’t stop their voice from quavering, or their body from trembling, butthat’s only natural when you’re face to face with a murderer. The terrifying man shook his head, still holding his hand for them to grab.
“I am not here to hurt you, _.”
“But that’s what Decepticons do!”
“Now isn’t the time for assumptions about my cause, _. You’re here for a very important reason which I will explain in due time. Might I be able to help you up?” _ accepted, letting Tarn pull them up and assist them in walking to the couch. It’s not like they could refuse the leader of the DJD. He was oddly gentle with them, making sure they didn’t collapse again as they sat down.
“Now I’m sure you were startled to wake up in an unfamiliar room but I can explain why you were brought here.”
“You’re really not going to hurt me?”
“I won’t let anyone harm you as long as I live. That’s a promise. In fact that’s precisely the reason you’re here.” Tarn had seated himself across from _ and leaned towards them ever so slightly. “_. You are someone I can’t bear to lose. From the moment I met you, I knew I had to do anything to keep you at my side. After all, the only way I can completely assure I never lose you is to protect you myself.”
“Then where am I?”
“You’re at my base. I can make it so everything you could ever want is at your fingertips here. We have a pool, state-of-the-art sound systems, and an entire library of music and literature for-”
“I want to go home.” Tarn didn’t seem surprised to hear _’s protests at their new situation. He only leaned back in his seat with as far as _ could tell was a smile on his face.
“Oh _. This is home.” His tone was soft, but firm. He would not be budging on this. He moved on quickly to the next topic, likely trying to distract them. He made sure they were alright, asking them if they were in any pain and if they remembered at all how they arrived at their new room. _’s responses were short as Tarn expected. It would take some time before they would trust him enough to confide in him but he was happy to wait. He had all the time in the world, and with no one in his way to get in the way of the two of them it was only a matter of time before they stayed with him out of sheer isolation.
“Now _, I am afraid I must take my leave. Besides I’m certain you’re anxious to explore your new living quarters. If you need to talk to me all you need to do is text me and I’ll be here in a flash, alright?” There was nothing _ could do but nod as Tarn bid them goodbye. At least whatever chemical was used to subdue them had mostly worn off by the time he was gone. And after a detailed examination of the room they were in and the rooms connected to it _ had made a few observations.
First was that the door their captor had left through was locked tight with only a tiny gap underneath. There wasn’t even a way to pick the lock, as it was likely located on the other side of the door. The windows were a bust too, as though they were open, they had a protective screen on the other side that would need to be broken to get through. It probably wouldn’t be best to anger Tarn by even trying as he seemed incredibly insistent that they stay in their suite.
They also figured out that Tarn wasn’t lying when he said that everything _ had ever wanted was there. There was a kitchenette with every one of their favourite snacks, a wardrobe full of clothes on their shopping list, (Notably all the clothes would be impractical to attempt an escape in.) And a beautiful artists desk complete with all the most lavish and expensive art supplies they had only dreamed of before. It was uncanny really, how Tarn knew every one of their wants. That was most likely not a coincidence considering who he is and how seemingly obsessed he was with them.
The third observation was not only was there everything they had ever wanted, there was everything they would ever need. Tarn had certainly planned for every possible outcome. There was a first aid kit, fire extinguisher, air conditioning and heating control, and there was even a tablet left on the table that could only do one thing. Call Tarn.
It was sickening really, the lengths he went to make everything perfect. The entire time _ was searching the room it was all so eerily familiar until a nauseating realization hit them at full force. All the clothes? _ had bookmarked them online or mentioned them at some point. The snacks? _ had been dealing with what they assumed was a raccoon digging through their food trash, but the reality of it was far, far more disturbing. Even the desk was something they had been saving up for for a long time, something they assumed they would never be able to afford.“From the moment I met you, I knew I had to do anything to keep you at my side.” Tarn hadn’t been lying about doing anything to keep them.
He was watching me.
He was listening to me.
Once again they dropped to the floor but this time it wasn’t because of any chemical. Their thoughts were racing faster and faster, trying to think of any time they had seen him before, any break ins, but their mind was drawing a blank. It made sense really. He’s the leader of the DJD, stalking is what he does. It wasn’t like setting up bugs and cameras would be all that hard for someone like him to get done. For all they knew he could have gotten one of his lackeys to do it for him. Considering their situation, it was likely Tarn was still watching and listening now as they cried on the floor.
Not that he particularly cared. He could lounge in his office and watch _ as he pleased. A few tears were expected in the long run. His plan had worked. _ was with him, and they would never leave.
Themes: richkid! au, college! au, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, modern fantasy, journalism major reader, journalism major taeyong, angst, SLOWBURN, sexual tension to the max baby we die like men, parts based off gilmore girls, fluff, mythological elements, arranged marriage (kind of), taeyong being a TEASE, hurt comfort
Warnings:lots of !! sexual tension !!, profanity, angst, insecurity, our lovely mc is a bit detatched bitchy but she gets better! food, neglectful parents, manipulative characters, minor crime (stealing of a boat lmao), allusions to sex, makeout scenes, kissing, some talk about sex but no sexual content whatsoever, PG 15
Summary: When you happen to give your enemy his coat back, you find yourself thrown into a vortex of chaos and a ring sitting pretty on your fourth finger.
Authors Note: GOD this fic is so self indulgent it is not funny but I had an absolutely blast writing it. First of all, thank you to @jensrose to beta reading this fic and letting me scream to you about it and to @neo-shitty for volunteering to be a character. Thank you to @sehunniepot nikki for letting me use Neiho here<3 I don’t know what possessed me to write 30k+ but here we are so uh i hope you enjoy it as i much as i loved writing it, and as always feedback is appreciated<3
You got out of your car, bidding the driver goodbye as you collected your books from the backseat. He nodded respectfully, pressing the button on the side of the door, the windows rolled up and you took a few steps away, watching the Porsche drive away.
I was preyed on by a member of the HPRP community when i was 14.
As I write this I am 17 and have been through three different kinds of therapy addressing what happened to me along with other issues. After three years I finally feel that I am in a place where this person cannot hurt me anymore and I can speak about this openly.
A few years ago I was an active participant in the HPRP community. I made loads of friends and tried my best to make art for a fandom I deeply cared about. I still love making cosplay content and have a passion for Harry Potter. I abandoned this blog and many of my friends here because I felt lost and scared. I was being manipulated by a member of this community and a friend of mine. Abuse is a strong word but it is the only word I can find to fit the situation.
I will not be naming names because that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I reached out to someone I admired online who was 20+ at the time and they invited me into their community. I wasn’t too concerned because there were some other underage people in their group and everyone seemed so lovely. This was before the boom of the RP community happened and for the most part everyone knew everyone. This made the incidents that occurred that much more isolating. I had no one to talk to for fear of starting drama or being kicked out. I had no one else in my life at the time who I could be myself with. The HPRP community was my family.
To keep things short and as trigger free as I can I will try to keep this vague. This person flirted, asked for and sent nudes, sent sexual messages and made advances when we met in person.
Their hands wandered and they seemed very keen to introduce me to sexual concepts, images and such. Their comments were unacceptable and I felt trapped. They had power over me and I barely even realized.
I know of other instances of this within the community and I know they are not the only ones.
The HPRP came to me in a time of need and I was given some of my most treasured memories and I wouldn’t want to deter anyone from following their creative ideas. This community helped inspire and encourage me to attending a special art high school. I am thankful for all the things I gained from this blog but I will always regret not being more aware of predators online. This person wasn’t a 50 year old man lying about their age like my parents and teachers had said they would be. They were my friend.
This is not intended to be related to the Buzzfeed discourse because I believe them to be two completely different things.
I know this might not reach a whole lot of people because this blog has been inactive for years. I just need people to know. This can’t keep happening.
SO THIS IS A PSA FOR MINORS IN THE HPRP COMMUNITY
I know there are lots of you and i know you are all very mature and complex individuals. I will never argue these facts. The problem isn’t with you.
You’ve read the books and watched the movies, you know that things are not always what they seem. Sometimes you see the monster coming and sometimes you don’t. I can’t tell you what to do but please be aware. Be aware of who has power over you. Be aware of what you post. If something feels wrong then you should investigate and keep yourself safe. Know that there are people to talk to about this (family, helplines, me, other members of the community, etc)
Talking about these things is important. Its scary, and its important.
Note: the person mentioned in this post is no longer and active part of the community. if they were I would have taken a much different approach to this.
There is so much babys here, please all take care because this happends
a/n: here is my hell piece for the intoxicated collab <3 yes it is a direct follow up to caged my yuudai drabble (read it first!!!), yes i copied the banner from caged to use on here bc i am lazy and there r no yuudai caps, do not perceive me <3
dedicated to my wife @pomsuki <33 happy (belated) birthday pommie <3 let yuudai into your heart ;)
18+ university age | pls read all warnings
warnings:drug use (weed), alcohol use, dub/noncon (reader is thouroughly inebriated), size kink, no condom, uh no real prep (what’s new with me), some toxic behavior, manipulation
warning:fuckboy!jk(this should be a warning.), angst. HEAVY FUCKING ANGST. lots of drama, toxic relationships, manipulation, tons of drinking and parties, drugs, toxic friendships, anxiety, panick attacks, explicit smut, everyone is an asshole. crying, throwing ups, making bad decisions, regretting said bad decisions, oc being impulsive, misunderstanding, lots of arguing and fights, physical fights. brief fluff.
(more to be added. each chapter has individual warnings)
synopsis:just like the moon changes it’s phases, you see jungkook change himself. but unlike the moon, you don’t see him come back to the way he was before.
— Do you remember? The heat of summer? You said forvever.
At a young age you learned a vital lesson: never hesitate. Whether you’re rejecting a confession or staring down the sight of a gun, split second decisions have been ingrained in your blood, so when your best friend is brutally murdered the choice is simple.
You’ll stop at nothing to exact your revenge on the man who took her from you, even if it means facing the three men you’d spent years running away from.
Can you survive a deal with Embertide University’s very own Archdemons, or will your dark history with them bring everything you’re working toward crashing down?
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Step Brother!Suna, Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa
“when have I raped you” - literally the whole time? In the beginning she was underaged so that’s statutory rape - even if she said yes. And the every time she was an adult she was drunk or high and couldn’t consent. Like she was literally asleep? The fuck. Fuck this guy.
“The cruelty” it requires for you to tell someone I raped you - says a man who raped a fifteen year old CHILD. The manipulation. God I hate this man. I hate men. Men that are like how dare you accuse me of rape and ruin my career when all I did was rape you?? Like eat a dick.
She sat there in silence. What did she do wrong? Why did everyone she loves leave?
“Hello?” She heard from a distance, she recognized the voice. It broke her heart. Silent tears race down her face. “Oh my, are you alright!” The voice says to her. She can see his feet floating in front of her. As y/n looks up, she sees him.
“Wilbur?” She whispers not wanting it to be true, he can’t be dead.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He says, his ghostly voice echoing around the room. With these words she breaks, sobs cracking out of her like a whip. Wilbur’s ghostly form moves to help her, attempting to wipe the tears from her face a hissing sound emits from his hand. The tears dissolved his fingers, he stared at where his fingers once were. Her sobs softened when she realized what she did. She did this, she hurt him.
“I’m sorry, it seems I can’t help you,” Wilbur says in a soft voice. She looks at him, her eyes and nose red and swollen.
“I missed you. Every day, it seems like it’s been a lifetime without you.” She murmurs. “It’s only been a few days my dear,” he responds.
“I thought you didn’t recognize me, why are you calling me your dear?”
“Because this isn’t real, it’s in your head and you know it. He would never come back for you, he never loved you. It was jointly to hope from the beginning,” he says, a calm smile adorning his face. The same face that called her worthless, useless, nothing, a nobody.
“I know, he never loved me. I got that from the start. I just wished to whatever could hear me, maybe, just maybe, it was a lie.”
“There was no lying, you fell for someone who could never love you back. It’s time for us to go, my dear, the sun is rising.”
Y/n wakes up to her alarm, ignoring it she walks over to her mirror. Seeing the reflection she sees him behind her. Whipping her head around she sees him.
“It’s time for us to go, don’t you want to see me again, my dear.” He says, the same comforting smile on his face as she always saw at school.
She got ready for the day, getting dressed, eating, grabbing her bag, and driving to school. As she gets there she feels the eyes on her. She goes through her normal day as if nothing happened at the last bell of the day, he shows up.
“My dear, what is taking you so long?” He says floating over her.
“I want to see the sunset before it’s time,” she whispered.
“I see, I will meet you there.” He vanishes.
The final bell rings, she packs up and makes her way through the crowd of people, and to the roof. The wired fence glaring at her in the light of the sun that is slowly setting. She sees him there, waiting, just as he promised her.
“Hello, my dear. It’s time now.”
“Yes of course.”
She drops her bag and takes her shoes off. Carefully setting them next to the edge. Seeing the people below her, some are shouting others are recording. She sees his friends in the crowd but not him. Quirking her head to the side she looks more. After a moment she realized, I could be stopped if I don’t hurry now. Climbing the fence holding onto it as she sees the sunset for the last time, closing her eyes. Smiling, she hears the roof four open but it’s too late she fell. Turning, as if in slow motion she sees him, not the ghost, but him. He is here. He cares. He grabs her arm through the fence stopping her for a moment but not enough. And she falls, they make eye contact. She sees him say ‘I’m sorry.’ Tears fall upwards as she finally makes contact with the floor. With a thud and muffled screams, everything goes dark.
“Welcome, my dear. I missed you so,”
She hugs him but can’t feel anything.
“Am I being taken back?”
“I’m afraid so, my love, I will never forget you. Y/n.”
—–
Thank you for reading, I’m back! I’m trying to get myself to write again so maybe this will work! <3
Tw: Death of a character, Blood, Stabbing, Explicit Language, Abandonment, Anxiety, Manipulation, Captivity.
× × ×
Whumpee sat with their back to the cold brick wall behind them.
They couldn’t remember the time of day it would be right now, or even what time it was by the hour anymore.
The dreary, musty basement only ever saw the light of two dimly lit oil lamps that sat in the corners of the room opposite of each other, as the room was remodelled to have the windows bricked over, sealing Whumpee in there with little to no means of escaping their new forever home.
The flames steadily sat atop the cloth wick, Whumpee’s trembling breaths were the only thing to disturb the steady flame, occasionally causing it to flicker in the soft breeze.
There were no windows, only a single metal framed bed that a thin, worn-down mattress rested upon.
Whumpee let out a sigh while a softer feeling of abandonment crept into their heart, causing their expression to fall weary as their minds started to wander.
Why hadn’t Whumper returned to them yet? Had they done something wrong to displease Whumper? Has Whumper found themselves a new companion to keep them company?
These thoughts plagued Whumpee’s thoughts, unconsciously causing a few small tears to bead in the corner of their eyes as they sniffled softly.
“W-Whumper..” Whumpee whispered to themselves softly, pitifully craning their neck towards the door.
“Wh-whumper.. a-are you.. there?"
There was still silence in the room as Whumpee turned their body around so they were on their hands and knees, slowly pulling themselves towards the door.
a soft rattle of the chain that was wrapped around their ankle and anchored to the wall just by the bed echoed quietly in the room as Whumpee felt their body suddenly come to halt, only feet from the door.
"Whumper.. I-im still here.. did you forget about me..?” Whumpee’s voice was dry, their big water eyes gazed at the door, their arms reached out towards it, but they could only just faintly scratch the wooden door with their nails, just out of their reach.
“W-Whumper!?"
Whumpee’s voice grew a bit louder as it echoed against the walls, hearing the desperate tone in their own voice.
"Whumper!!"
"Whumper, I’m here! I’m still here!!"
"WHUMPER!!!”
Their screams rang hallow throughout the room and halls now.
Whumpee’s voice cracked as they let out a incoherent wail, their eyes now flooded with hot tears, burning their now puffy reddened eyes.
They hunched forward, wrapping their arms tightly around themselves, trying to give themselves any feelings of comfort and affection they could to calm themselves as their panic and feelings of loneliness grew deeper.
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here..” Whumpee repeatedly whispered to themselves, their lips trembling as their teeth chattered from their anxious state.
But they soon found themselves laying on their side, knees tightly pulled to their chest as the only sounds that escaped were those of muffled sobbing and the occasional choked wail in hopes that Whumper would hear them.
Whumpee bit the inside of their lip hard.
After a few moments, they could taste a soft metallic blood on their tongue, though they couldn’t tell because their senses had become numb to anything but the craved need for Whumper.
It’s all Whumpee wanted, was Whumper to hold them, praise them, and caress their hair softly while whispering in reassurance that everything would be okay.
They understood that Whumper’s punishments weren’t meant to hurt them, but only to teach them to be better.
But somehow, Whumpee had somehow ruined it. They didn’t understand how or why, but they had upset Whumper so greatly now that they had abandoned them.
Whumpee opened their eyes while sniffling. Though they didn’t move from the floor, they simply laid there, motionless, and broken.
×××
Upstairs Whumper sat at their desk, idly smirking while watching Whumpee desperately plead for them.
In a way, Whumper thought it was pathetic how needy they were despite their ‘tough’ demeanor.
'I suppose I should go comfort the little thing before it completely snaps.. We truly would not want that again.'
Whumper lightly tapped the × at the top right of the screen while turning their monitor off, steadily arising from their seat as they walked calmly towards the hallway.
×××
After a few minutes, Whumpee heard a soft click come from the door, as if on cue, causing their body to suddenly jerk up, so they were sitting upright on their knees, wide-eyed, staring in an almost dog-like manner towards the entrance, impatiently waiting.
Whumper slowly pushed the door open while sliding the keys back into his pocket, looking down towards Whumpee with a more solemn expression, though it was not genuine.
“Whumpee..” They spoke softly while kneeling down, keeping their hand up to signal Whumpee to stay put, though their excitement almost made it nearly impossible. They did not want to do anything that could cause Whumper to leave them again.
“I apologise for being away longer than expected.. I truly am sorry.” They lowered their hands while extending their arms towards Whumpee.
Without hesitating, Whumpee sprung into Whumper’s arms, nuzzling their body as closely as they could against Whumper’s, resting their head under their chin while smiling ear to ear.
“I-i though you left me, forgot about me.. I did something bad.. I’m sorry, so sorry..” Whumpee spoke quickly, with faint hints of happiness, fear, and anxiety coating their words as they could barely form a coherent sentence.
“Shh, sh” Whumper hushed them softly while wrapping their arms securely around the smaller framed Whumpee while cuddling them closely, lightly resting their lips against the top of their head.
“I could never forget about you, Whumpee.. How foolish of you to think."
"M'sorry..”
“Tch, I suppose I can understand why someone so naive could think that. But that’s why you have me to take care of you, and teach you how to be good."
"Mhm~” Whumpee hummed softly in agreement, while wrapping their arms around Whumper’s neck. “M'thankful for Whumper.."
Whumper smirked to themselves while lowering their arm around Whumpee’s waist, pulling them closer.
"Of course you are.."
Whumpee let out a softer breath while opening their eyes, feeling a faint wave of relief.
"Whumper.."
"Yes, Whumpee..?"
Whumper shifted lightly, but stopped as they let out a short gasp, feeling a sudden sharp, pain in the back of their neck.
A warm liquid slowly trickled down their back as Whumpee pushed a rod they had broken off the bed frame and sharpened deeper into Whumper’s neck, twisting it lightly before pulling it out, hearing Whumper let out a pained scream before their grip loosened enough on Whumpee that they could push themselves free of their grip.
But they didn’t run, oh no.
Whumpee quickly knocked Whumper to the floor while climbing onto their lap, raising their hand to weild the rod high in the air before plunging it deep into Whumper’s chest, over and over, and over.
Whumper let out a blood curdling scream as they didn’t even have a chance to try and fight back to protect themselves as Whumpee continued to stab them relentlessly without hesitation.
Their blood splattered over the walls and pooled around Whumpers trembling, bloodied body as Whumpee panted heavily, now also coated in splatters of blood and small bits of flesh.
They took a moment to stare at the bloodied mess in front of them before a sudden wave of nausea hit them.
Whumpee quickly got up from the body only to collapse on their knees, hunching over while emptying the little contents of their stomach that were there, heaving heavily while trembling.
It wasn’t that Whumpee was having regrets, no.
Whumper deserved nothing more than a painfully slow death, and that’s exactly what they were getting.
Whumpee could still hear the shallow, gurgled breaths of Whumper as they desperately tried to cling onto what little time they had left while Whumpee slowly moved back over, bit only to quickly retrieve the keys from his pocket, and for a bonus, their wallet.
"Whumper..” Whumpee looked down at them in the same condescending way that Whumper would.
“Burn in hell.. I’ll see you again when I get there too, I promise."
There was a coldness to Whumpee’s voice as they leaned down, unlocking the chain from their ankle, and the collar from their neck, dropping it to the ground while feeling a faint chill from their skin being so exposed.
Whumpee turned as they walked slowly towards the door, opening it while looking back at Whumper’s motionless body.
'Rot here, piece of shit..'
Whumpee angrily slammed the door closed while locking it, breaking the key off as they turned it, making sure that there was no way Whumper could escape this long needed fate.
As they made their way up the basement stairs to the main floor, Whumpee felt a mix of emotions, though the only one they wanted to focus on, was the feeling of freedom.
Welcome to a bored analysis of C!Wilbur Soot, c!Tommy, the “afterlife” and c!Wilbur cares for c!Tommy or not.
[Note]if I forgot an important detail I apologize, I still need to catch up on recent streams, also this contains a few small theories I have regarding the “afterlife”
Alright so…Wilbur Soot.
When I first saw his revival I honestly was surprised with the way he went about it, but after hearing about his version of his afterlife with the whole train station thing it made sense.
He never really found peace after dying in L’manberg’s second death. Hence why Ghostbur was even a thing in the first place. And I don’t know about you but almost 13 years of isolation with not much company, it could do a lot to a person.
And then we have Tommy danger-Kraken Innit.
The kid who’s been dragged through hell and back kicking and screaming. Who has basically nothing to his name but still fought for so many people, places, and things for far longer than anyone should have.
And what was his personal purgatory?
A void of pure nothingness, he hears things, but he sees nothing but a pitch black abyss.
Now, I believe that the Wilbur in Tommy’s purgatory is still the same Wilbur who was revived. But it’s just that they both saw two different perspectives, but since we don’t exactly know what went on between them I can only assume that they both were under the impression that they thought the other was seeing what they were seeing.
Now I kind of did a little research on dream meanings for this
(And yes I’m well aware of the fact that dreams aren’t the same as Death but just bear with me here)
For Wilbur I researched about train stations and waiting.
Train stations: “…A train station represents a transitional period in your life. You need to take a short break to reassess your situation and determine your path and goals.”
Waiting: “To dream you are waiting is indicative of issues of power/control and feelings of dependence/independence”
Now Wilbur defiantly has some issues to go through about Power and control, and I would say he does have some clear signs of dependence when it comes to characters such as Tommy.
Now for Tommy I researched the void/abyss
The void: “If feared: fear of losing control, loss of identity, fear of failure, meeting those dark fears or worries, we hide in our depths; lack of confidence, we fear death in some form and are afraid of the hugeness of the unconscious”
Tommy was very afraid of the void from when we saw him in purgatory for the first time, and when he was revived you were able to see the fears that were mentioned
Fear of losing control: I’m pretty confident in saying that c!Tommy is one who gets manipulated the most, and at times even being the scapegoat for conflicts.
It feels as though Tommy’s losing power over himself because he’s either being manipulated into doing something that doesn’t really benefit him. Or blamed for a conflict that he was only really apart of and not really starting it only joining in when things get rough.
fear of failure: This mostly pertains a lot with Wilbur, he’s afraid of disappointing one of the few people he still believes in, when Wilbur used the whole “Family dynamic” against Tommy because Tommy didn’t want to get him stone Tommy immediately went on the defensive and in the end just agreed to get the stone.
Worries and lack of confidence: this kind of goes back to the “fear of losing power over himself” Tommy has to worry about his life on a daily basis because he doesn’t want to go through any of the trauma’s he’s been through over again.
Another this bit about what the void could possibly mean is that it’s says that even though Tommy has fought so many wars he doesn’t have anything to show for it other than trauma and the lack of closure he tried to achieve but ended up dying instead.
My theory with the purgatory is that it customizes its self based on the person and what they have failed to accomplish (or what they have yet to accomplish revved duo’s case)
For Wilbur it’s the fact he never thought about the consequences of his actions and struggle to Reevaluate his issues with power and control and his dependent nature on other people.
For Tommy it’s around the fact he never got the closure and had to spend time with his unresolved traumas and issues.
And because of this fact they can’t move on to the afterlife because of what they went through and neither not having the true closure they needed they can’t truly find peace.
Now that I got my purgatory rant out of the way, this being up the next part of this rant…
Does c!Wilbur care about c!Tommy?
I’m under the belief that he does,
but because of the the fact Wilbur’s been doing nothing but thinking about the things he’s done and seeing Tommy accomplish his goals at the end of the disc war.
He feels as though Tommy doesn’t care about Wilbur anymore or at the very least doesn’t need him anymore.
Now I’m not excusing the fact that Wilbur is still manipulating Tommy and it’s still fucked up.
But if you saw a lot of the recent streams between c!Wilbur and c!Tommy, It’s pretty obvious in the way he talks with Ranboo, how he doesn’t want Tommy to join las Nevadas without him, how he seems to fall back into his Pogtopia tactics to keep Tommy by his side.
And Tommy and Wilbur’s interaction in purgatory did not help with Wilbur’s thought process, since Tommy seemed to very much not want to be there with Wilbur while Wilbur seemed to be a bit of the opposite with the cards and “playful” banter.
He feels as though he needs to use his manipulative tactics otherwise Tommy would leave him.
what’s really funny/irritating to me about this situation is that this is literally the opposite of the actual case.
Tommy literally talked with Foolish saying:
“But what this is, it’s gonna be about- not giving him a second chance, isn’t giving him a third chance, it’s not about chances! … it’s about making sure you don’t give up on the people you careabout.”
Tommy does care about Wilbur, and the fact that Wilbur can’t see that due to the years of isolation and unresolved traumas and issues he has, he can’t fully comprehend that “hey maybe I don’t have to manipulate the gremlin child into staying”
And why does Tommy stay with Wilbur?
Well besides his talk with Foolish, I think it goes back to the lack in confidence, Tommy has been manipulated and used as a scapegoat so much he’s basically accepted the fact people’s opinion of him will ever change. So he probably thinks that if he tried talking to Wilbur about it it’s very likely he wouldn’t believe it at all. (Kind of like how it was in Pogtopia with Wilbur doubting Tommy’s loyalty and input) So Tommy’s stuck in this loop of just taking it and just going with what Wilbur says.
Summary:
While Wilbur does indeed care for Tommy but it’s still unhealthy with how Tommy feels as though he needs to follow Wilbur in order to show he cares.
To end off if anyone needs clarification on any part of this analysis brain-dump, or have a theory about the opposite side feel free to comment on it or send a DM, I like formulating ideas and theories.
Under the cut due to potential triggers which are tagged. If any of the tags are your triggers, please refrain from looking under the cut.
bold whatever applies to your muse. italicize the things that only happen in other verses. REPOST , DON’T REBLOG.
been cheated on | been bullied | had your heart broken | broken someone’s heart | told a horrible lie | been betrayed | been framed / set-up | stolen something of value | overdosed on drugs | been drunk | cheated | bullied | been publicly humiliated | punched someone in the face | been beaten up | broken a bone | been admitted to a hospital | put someone in the hospital | had a near - death experience | been drugged | done drugs | smoked | been arrested | been homeless | been forced to commit a crime | died and come back to life | kissed someone you weren’t attracted to | bled severely | killed someone | been forced to kill someone | had an attempt on your life | lost someone | loved someone | watched a loved one die | failed to save / help a loved one |felt helpless | watched your world die / disappear | had your life’s work stolen / destroyed | gone without food for over three days | gone without sleep for over three days | been tortured | been shot | been stabbed | been poisoned | been held prisoner | been trapped | been buried alive | been held hostage | held someone hostage | been stuck in a different world / universe / time | been slapped / punched by a parent or higher up | been abused by someone who should have loved / appreciated / valued you | had a panic attack | had night terrors | been in a car accident | lost your job | lost a fight | had sex with a stranger | been divorced | been abandoned | passed out from pain | cried yourself to sleep | spent a whole day in bed | taken your anger out on yourself | taken your anger out on someone you love | been used | been manipulated | felt used | manipulated someone else | had your memories / mind wiped / stolen or tampered with | been taken over by a hostile force | been terrified | played a cruel game on someone | been forced to smile |felt too many things at once | laughed when you felt like crying | been in denial | been denied |faced your demons
There is a thing that sits at the center of the world. It sits replete upon the wheel of destiny, and the laws of the world it weaves.
A strand of that web has brushed on your life. A bit of the terror of dominance, power, of being controlled and used- of manipulation and lies and paranoia- it has touched you.
How intermeshed will it become?
You may pick up the Web issue by…
Loitering in abandoned places filled with cobwebs and hidden spiders.
Being affected by, or pursued by, one of the acolytes or monsters of the web.
Being so afraid of someone controlling or manipulating you that you become isolated and hostile.
Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, because the world is terribly unfair.
Web 1
Omens of encroaching strings
Something skitters just outside of your line of sight. You feel like something far away is.. calling you. You feel an intention that is not your own. Your dreams are becoming strange.
It’s probably nothing, though.
Web 2
Signs and portents only you believe
You see them now. You see.. Something. Maybe fleeting dreams fill you with an unsettling sense of déjà vu. Or, just for a second, you see thin grey strings wrapped around your friend’s arms, vanishing up into the sky. Or you wake up every morning with webs woven between your hands.
Something is happening, you just can’t understand the pattern yet.
…but no one else sees it. No one else understands it. They can’t face the encroaching web.
At this point, traditionally, you begin to experience supernatural changes to your being. This manifests as a level 1 Superior skill. Often this is Superior Affinity to Spiders, but it can be any Superior skill that conveys extrasensory awareness, mental control of others, precognitive powers, skittering movement, lying prowess or affinity for webs and silence.
If this is the first time you are experiencing the Web issue, you may not manifest any power at all.
This superior skill remains until the issue is resolved.
Web 3
Establishing what’s controlling your life.
You see it all the time now, inescapably. You find yourself doing things sometimes, things you don’t really want to do, or you didn’t plan to do. You make decisions and find they somehow get passed over.
You see the lights in the sky that tell you what you are going to do in excruciating detail. You see the puppet strings that connect everyone and everything, winding into buildings and down streets. You see the men in black suits watching everyone and you see the people they take away.
The web is all around you.
At this point, you should establish what, specifically, is controlling your life.
What has your fear writ wide across your world?
Is it something like…
Premonitions that unfold in your waking dreams and extinguish any illusion you may have of your own free will?
A vast conspiracy that weaves through everyone and everything you know, revealing them all to be part of some organization or power that wishes you ill?
An unseen puppeteer that moves people by invisible strings, crouching like a vast spider in some unseen celestial web?
A vampiric cult that calls innocent people into the dark streets, only to suck them dry?
Something else?
This level of the issue intensifies your supernatural affinity with dark forces. You may raise the Superior skill granted by this issue to 2 and choose one of the following:
An affliction that revolves around destiny, your loss of control or the physical changes to your body and mind that are happening. It scales with the Web issue.
A bond representing your fear, fascination or desire for power and control. It scales with the Web issue.
If you choose to bear more of the power of the web, you may also complete the Acolyte’s quest to solidify your connection. The powers granted by this Issue typically vanish soon after it is resolved, but they may linger in much the same way you might keep a wound (Chuubo Core book, 129).
Web 4
A final moment of freedom
Despite the strangling cords of destiny. Despite the feelings of helplessness that wash into your soul- you have a moment, a chance to escape.
Perhaps you fought and marshaled your will. Perhaps a friend came through when you least expected. Perhaps the web just loosened, unexpectedly.
When your Issue reaches this level, you may make a choice to escape or to remain.
If you choose to escape, you may close out this issue by…
Choosing a fiery baptism, immolation, and reconstruction from the ashes.
Choosing desperate, sudden violence against them. Turn the tables.
Choosing to run away from this life, abandon order, embrace chaos and live.
Choosing to accept help, to put yourself at another’s mercy, to trust again.
It is possible that your choice may embrace another power to escape this one.
If, in this final moment, you falter and choose to remain, then your fate is sealed. It’s only a matter of time now.
Web 5
Make peace with how your dark fate will manifest.
The world seems so unreal. The world seems so gray. It wasn’t like this. It wasn’t like this. You are surrounded by it. Your body is not your own. Your mind is not your own. You do not control your thoughts, but- Mercilessly your feelings are still your own.
They’re going to take you soon. They’re going to eat you. They’re going to render you down into whatever they wanted from you.
And the worst is, you know that the entire course of your life has been leading up to this. Destiny is the tool of a dark and evil god, and you never had a choice to begin with.
This issue is resolved when you are taken by dark powers. The character disappears for a time, at least a chapter or so.
They may be dead, but they are always gone.
If they return, they are not the same.
Their player may move points from mundane skills into a Superior skill representing these changes, or rewrite Bonds or Afflictions to suit this. These changes always mark their connection to dark and insidious forces, to spiders and to consumption. They typically interfere with the character’s free will.
The Spider Acolyte’s Quest [30 XP] Bindings 1
This is a quest about cleaving to the dark powers. It is about becoming part of the spider, of the mother of puppets, of the web. It’s about giving in before you are eaten.
It is about forging a bond of fearful reverence with something that controls the world.
Major Goals
The HG may reward you with 5 XP when…
You wield vicious lies, rumors, cruel jibes or similar horrible tricks to hurt or coerce someone, or when you bear through and accept the same as an inescapable part of life.
You are subject to some kind of terrible psychic or mental trauma associated with isolation, spiders, authority figures or distant gods.
You begin to act, physically or metaphorically, like a spider.
Your Web issue rises to 4 and you choose to embrace, rather than reject the Web.
You accept, in your heart, that even an evil god is better than none.
You can earn each bonus once, up to a maximum of 15 XP.
Quest Flavor
1/chapter you may earn an XP towards this quest when:
[Green] You feel sick and terrible, and then see that it’s part of your metamorphosis. Describe the horrific changes in as much detail as you can bear.
[Green] You open a window or leave an external door uncracked so that spiders can enter.
[Blue] You experiment with wielding social conventions, power dynamics and lies to make your environment better for you.
[Gold/Green] You feel ecstatic joy at your body and mind doing things without your input or decision.
[Red/Gold] You flee from an alien being of burning hatred or ecstatic violence.
The reward for completing this quest is an Acolyte perk:
Acolyte Perk: You gain a Connection 1-2 for the Web as a concept. In addition, you are so deeply connected to it that you can never really escape- After resolving the Web Issue, you gain a point in it at the end of the current scene.
A/N: Let it be known that I did not want to publish this at first, but I can’t leave my degenerates hanging. It’s a doozy. Very bloody. So I’m putting the whole thing under a Read More. HEED THE WARNINGS. I feel like I can’t stress this enough.
WARNINGS:Implied/Referenced Drug Use - Drug Use - Forced Anaesthesia - Graphic Description Of Torture - Wound Fucking - Blood and Gore - Manipulation
You’re a quivering mess, hands trembling as you curl your fingers weakly around Cioccolata’s sleeve and tug. “I need you to give me something, anything. ” The sound of your own voice, low and raspy, croaking out each word like you’re in terrible pain makes you wince. In truth, you are. Not physically, no, but mentally you’re an absolute disaster.
You don’t know what’s real anymore: every day feels like a blur. There are times when hours fly by and you don’t even notice, and other days you feel every second pass agonizingly slow. You’re disoriented, losing your way in the hospital halls and misplacing your belongings constantly. It wasn’t like this before: you remember coming to therapy for minor depression, but after meeting Cioccolata your condition had only worsened. You didn’t think for a second he’d been the one to cause your distress, but you knew something wasn’t right. It wasn’t until last week that you realized being near him wasn’t healthy, so you broke off all contact. He didn’t take it very well.
However, you had nowhere else to turn –you needed help and he was the only one, aside from your psychiatrist, with access to the lab. Without a prescription you’d never get back on medication, though you knew for a fact that Cioccolata had ways of obtaining drugs that went under the radar of the laboratory staff.
Cioccolata looked down on you, not a hint of mercy in his eyes. You disobeyed him, rejected his touch when he so graciously offered to relieve some of your stress–why should he help you? He pulls a familiar looking pill bottle from his pocket, holding it just out of your reach. “You mean these?” he asks, and you recognize it now: you thought you’d lost those! “Do you think you deserve them?”
Your mouth feels dry suddenly, words dying on your tongue. He took them from you, as punishment, you realize. When you don’t answer, he laughs.
“You will have to earn these, (Y/n). Good timing too, I was in need of a new guinea pig.”
Cioccolata starts by testing your limits first. Your tolerance for pain being the most important one: no use wasting anaesthetic if you’re perfectly capable of handling his ‘treatment’ without it. He puts you on a slab in an abandoned storage room of the hospital basement. Restrained with leather straps, fastened uncomfortably tight around your wrists and ankles. You’re completely nude by his request, shivering against the cold, hard metal beneath your exposed flesh. His stare hides both sick enjoyment and scientific curiosity– you’re a specimen to be dissected, a mystery to uncover and he can hardly contain his excitement. A grin breaks through his calm façade as he raises a scalpel to your chest, and you feel your heart begin to pound against your ribs.
“Be good and I’ll take care of you, okay?” he says, and you nod without a second thought. “Hold still,” he says, a bubbly joyful tone twisting his supposedly warning words into something more resembling a threat.
The incision is shallow, but you cry out nonetheless. It takes a few seconds for the blood to flow, and Cioccolata watches it drip from the cut, the smile on his face stretching into a frightening, deranged grimace. You start to think he may be even crazier than you. He makes another, equally insignificant slit in your skin. You manage to control your voice this time, bravely biting back a wince as your teeth sink into your bottom lip. This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You could do this. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of your test: Cioccolata hadn’t even scratched the surface yet, so to speak.
For the next 30 minutes, you hold your own, but with each drag of the knife the pain becomes more intense. Individually, they don’t hurt as much, but as a whole your body is beginning to burn. He takes his time, marking a tally down your smooth skin until every inch of you has met his blade. An hour later, you’re completely covered in paper thin slits –blood trickling from each cut down onto the table below. Despite the sweat forming on your brow, you feel painfully cold inside. You’re crying, but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact, Cioccolata is delighted. You’re stronger than he’d anticipated. There’s only so much the body can take before the mind begins to crumble, and you’re about to reach that threshold. When you’ve well and truly become catatonic the real fun can begin.
It doesn’t take much longer for your subconscious to shatter: you’re hurting too much, the mental strain of watching your body be decimated finally reaching its peak. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, arching off the table before going completely limp against it. Your head bangs down, hard, but you don’t feel the impact anymore. You feel nothing. Cioccolata circles your form, admiring his good work.
“(Y/n)?” He calls out to you, but you don’t respond. “Are you still with me?”
Despite the rise and fall of your chest indicating that you’re still breathing, Cioccolata checks your pulse anyway. You’re alive, barely –and he aims to keep you like that for a long time. The hazy glaze over your eyes fills him with glee and desire. You just look so damn beautiful on Death’s doorstep –barely hanging on to the threads of life. It’s arousing, he finds, and why not indulge? It’s not like you’re in any position or state of mind to object. Not like last time.
He finally administers a localized anaesthetic in your abdomen. You lay motionless as Cioccolata climbs atop the surgeon’s table, knees on either side of your hips. Unfortunately, he’d bound your legs a bit too tightly, making your sweet cunt inaccessible. No matter –he was nothing if not creative with his specimens. Cioccolata gazed down at your bruised and bleeding form, conscious but barely present, and allowed his free hand to stroke himself through his uniform. You were a sight for sore eyes, and there was no sweeter view in the entire world. He moaned without restriction, furthering his own arousal. You saw it all, heard it all –and he knew you did. When he was well and truly hard, he wasted no time freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers. All he had to do now was make himself a hole to fuck.
Cioccolata’s hands, steady like a surgeon, made the incision in your underbelly, just below your navel. You let out a half-hearted whine, the first noise you had made since going catatonic, and he felt his heart rate skyrocket at the sound. Blood begins to flow from the wound towards your pelvic region and Cioccolata, pleased with the width and depth of the cut, positions himself near the opening. He uses two fingers to spread the hole apart, then slides his cock into you. Your body involuntary jerks against your bindings, making them rattle against the metal surface of the table. Cioccolata groans out in pure bliss, relishing in the welcoming wet heat of your insides.
There’s no need for it, but his hands clamp around your hips to keep you in place as he thrusts into the self-made hole. It’s a perfect fit to his girthy cock, just like he indented. Enough room to wiggle and pound into you, without being too loose or getting too close to your vital organs. Cioccolata looks at your body bouncing limply with each thrust of his hips, moaning each time your head bangs against the table. Your eyes shimmer with a degree of awareness that has him overjoyed: you can hear him, you can see what he’s doing to your weakened body and it’s driving him mad. His hips snap against your abdomen with reckless abandon and Cioccolata knows, that if he’s given you the correct dose, you’re about to start feeling everything he’s doing to you.
He watches your face, counting down the seconds as the anaesthetic begins to wear off. Your eyes widen, and he grins as your agonized voice rips through the stale air. You feel him now, pounding into a slit that shouldn’t even be there. His movements are controlled, almost careful not to damage you any further, and you know now that he wants to keep you alive. You find no comfort in that knowledge, realizing it means your suffering has only just begun. Cioccolata moans in the most obscene manner you’ve ever heard, making sure you know just how much he’s enjoying being inside of you. It makes you feel sick. The wet squelching of his cock ramming into your abdomen reverberates in your skull, fueling the tears streaming down your face. You don’t even realize you’re howling in pain until your throat starts burning.
Your uncontrolled sobs are enough to make him lose it. Cioccolata tightens his grip on your hips and leans his entire body weight into you, grinding his pelvis into your bleeding, abused orifice. With a few final uneven bucks of his hips, his cock twitches inside of you. Each wave of his orgasm, you feel his release flow into you –mixing with your own blood and sweat into a nightmarish sludge.
Cioccolata withdraws himself. Laboured breathing fills the silence. You stare up at him as he trails a hand over all the little cuts and bruises he’s left all over you. “You’re so beautiful like this…” he lets out, the look in his eyes a mix of contentment and complete insanity. As his hand reaches your navel, Cioccolata presses down, chuckling at the sight of his cum and your blood gushing out of the wound below. “Perfection…you did so well.”
After wiping himself clean of your blood and tucking himself away, he slides off the table, making his way to your side. “I’m impressed you’re still conscious after all that,” he says, and grabs you chin, turning your head to face him. The tears leaking from your eyes make his chest swell with pride. “Let’s get you nice and clean, then stitch you up, yes?”
(This series is created from the prompts given by @summer-of-whump) (Also, Shea is pronounced [shAY])
CW: Child whumpee, kidnapped, ‘it’ as a pronoun, head injury, child abuse, manipulation, fire, lightly implied burns, implied death
Shea screamed, covering his head as flaming debris fell nearby.
“Shea!” The boy looked up to see his mother running towards him. She scooped him up into her arms and ran.
“Momma, what’s happening?” Shea squeaked, hiding his face. “I’m scared!”
“It’s going to be okay, baby. We just need to get out.” His mother’s voice was calmer than it was a moment before, although it still held a note of panic. “You remember the fire drills? It’s just like that. It’s going to be okay.”
Shea dared to peek back at the community. The fires were everywhere. People were running, some flying. To Shea’s horror, several people’s wings were actually onfire. His own mother’s wings were blackened in places.
“Momma, what happened to your wings?”
“Don’t worry about it baby— I’m fine. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
“I’m okay.” And Shea hid his face again as his mother continued to run deeper into the forest.
Only a short couple of minutes had passed when Shea felt the unmistakable feeling of rising in the air. It didn’t feel like flying, however— the incline felt sharper. His mother screamed and held onto Shea tighter.
Shea tried to wriggle free of his mother’s hold to see what was happening. “What?? What’s happening??”
Cruel laughter broke out from the trees around them and Shea managed to catch sight of the net surrounding him and his mother before his mother managed to pull him back against her, shielding his eyes. “Don’t move.” She whispered, her voice breaking.
Shea stopped moving, confused. He felt his mother pull her wings to surround him.
“Well would you look at that? We actually caught one of them!” Someone said from the ground.
“Who are you people? What do you want?” Shea’s mother’s voice sounded harsh and a little scared.
“Damn. Its wings must’ve caught fire. This one’s as good as worthless.” Another voice said.
“Best to just leave it and check the other traps. If we don’t catch anything else, this one’ll have to do.”
Shea heard footsteps begin to walk away. “Momma, I’m scared.” He whispered and the footsteps stopped.
“Shhh…” His mother held onto him tighter.
“You got somebody else up there?” One of the voices asked.
Shea’s mother didn’t answer.
“Cut it down. I think I heard something.” The person said and the footsteps came closer again.
Shea’s mother was trembling now, whispering prayers under her breath.
There was a sudden drop and the net hit the ground with Shea and his mother inside it.
Shea couldn’t understand what happened next. There was movement, his mother was yelling, squeezing him so tight he could hardly breathe. One of the other people yelled for her to let go. The next thing Shea knew, someone was pulling him away from his mother. He kicked and yelled, trying to hold onto her, but they were separated a moment later.
“Shea! Shea, you have to get away— you have to run— Shea—” One of the other people— Shea could see now that there were three— hit his mother over the head and she closed her eyes. When they let go of her, she fell to the ground.
“Momma!” Shea screamed, struggling to get away from the person who was now holding on tight to his arm. “Momma— Let me go! I want my mom!”
“Now this one’s worth this whole trip. Its wings are perfectly intact and it’s only— what— seven years old maybe?”
“How old are you, kid?”
Shea didn’t answer, tears streaming down his face as he tried to pry the person’s hand off his arm. “Let go!”
The person holding Shea slapped him hard across the face and Shea stopped for a moment, shocked. No one had ever hit him before.
“You were asked a question, brat. How old are you?” The person demanded.
Shea’s lip quivered as he tried not to cry harder. “I just want my mom— Why did you hit me? It h-hurt!”
“I’ll hit you again if you don’t answer the fucking question.” The person threatened.
“I’m six years old.” Shea whimpered, shielding his cheek with his free hand. “Please don’t hit me again— It really hurt!”
“Just do as you’re told and I won’t have any reason to hit you, now will I?” The person started to pull Shea away. “Come on. We can check the other traps once we get this one secured.”
“No!” Shea started to pull again. “No— I want my mom!”
“Shut up!” The person yanked Shea by the hair, making him scream. “If you keep trying to make things difficult, I’ll pick you up and fucking carry you. Just walk. Your mom isn’t going with us.”
Shea stumbled as they tried to keep up with the fast pace of the adults. He didn’t want to get hurt more, so he had stopped trying to get away, but he was still crying and yelling for his mom by the time the person let him stop walking. The person tied up Shea’s hands and tied them to the outside of a cage.
“Somebody has to stay with this one while the rest of the traps are checked and it’s not going to be me. We won’t get paid if I get annoyed and kill the brat before we make it back.” The person said after they finished tying Shea up.
“I’ll stay with the kid.” One of the others said. “You two go check traps and come back with the rest of the group.”
The other two nodded and left into the woods again.
“Hey, kid.” The person who stayed behind crouched next to Shea. “What’s your name? Did I hear your mom call you Shea?”
Shea nodded, sniffling and trying to wipe his tears off his face.
The person nodded. “Good to know. Sorry about Thorne. He really doesn’t like kids. Or the Winged. Or honestly really anyone. He shouldn’t have hit you.”
“What did I do that made him a-angry at me?”
“Literally anything you would have done except for coming with us quietly would have made him angry. None of us expected that from you. You are just a kid. And we aren’t taking your mom with us.”
“Where… Where am I going..? Why can’t my mom come with me? Who areyou?”
“My name is Jade. Your mom burned her wings in the fire, that’s why she can’t come. We’re only taking people with complete sets of wings. Seeing as your whole little village just burned down, we’re giving you a new place to live. Aren’t you glad?”
“I-I just want my mom…” Shea sniffed again.
“I know it’ll be hard for a while, but you’ll be okay. After all, you’re just a kid. You’ll bounce back fast. Don’t worry about your mom. She’s going to be okay too. She just can’t come with you.”
Shea fidgeted with the ropes around their wrists in silence as he and Jade waited.
At last, there were several footsteps. “Jade. The fires weren’t really a great idea, it turns out. Most of them died or have incomplete sets now. We did find this one, though.”
“Is it alive?” Jade stood up and Shea tried to look and see behind them, but the ropes wouldn’t let them turn that far.
“It’s alive, but injured. I don’t know if it’ll live, but it has a complete set, so it’s at least worth a shot.”
“Fine. Put it in the cage. I’ll get this one in.” Jade came back to Shea and untied him from the cage, leading him around to another side. “Get in.” Jade said, opening the cage door.
Shea hesitated.
“Shea,” Jade said softly. “You need to get in before Thorne decides to see what’s taking so long. As long as you listen to me, he won’t hurt you again, okay?”
Shea nodded quickly and Jade helped him into the cage.
After Shea was in the cage, a girl was put in as well. She was sleeping and there was a big bump on her head. “Aubrey?” Shea whispered, sitting next to her.
“Do you know her?” Jade asked.
Shea nodded. “Sh-she’s my cousin.”
“Her name is Aubrey? Do you know how old she is?”
“I think she’s…” Shea thought for a minute. “I think she might be twenty?”
“Okay.” Jade nodded, closing the cage door. “We’re going to leave now, okay?” Jade didn’t wait for an answer as they climbed into the car.
The cage sat on the bed of a trailer and Shea was startled when it began to move.
Aubrey’s eyes opened a little. “Are they gone?” She whispered.
“Aubrey! You’re okay!!”
“Not really.” She muttered, closing her eyes again. “Are they gone?”
“Um…” Shea looked at the car. “They’re in the car. They said they were taking us to a new home.”
“This is really bad…”
“… Why is it so bad?”
“Shea, if they take us somewhere outside the forest, you’re never going to see your mom again— if she’s even alive still. They started…” Aubrey coughed. “… They started those fires. Half the community is dead and the other half will never fly again. We’re probably the only two people who made it out alive with both wings.”
“… How did you get hurt..?”
“I… I don’t remember. Something probably fell on my head. I don’t know. Maybe I fell from somewhere… All I know is my head hurts and I’m really dizzy and it’s getting kind of hard to breathe…” Aubrey opened her eyes and looked at Shea, undoubtedly seeing the worry in his eyes. “I’ll be okay, short stuff. But we really have to get away from these people if we can.”
numbertwooflorien asked: Advice to rp as a emotional manipulative character?
Well okay! This post is how to RP an emotionally manipulative character, and in general a manipulative character. Useful for villains, and grimdark settings, it may include some crap people don’t want to think about. In detail. Major detail. So fair warning, I’m gonna get into psychological shit, and describe what amounts to abuse tactics with lots of explanation so if this isn’t your cup of tea, keep running. You might be able to use this as a way to spot toxic relationships as much as you can use it to play fictional ones, and I hope it helps people one way or another. But remember, keep it fucking fictional!
This is presented as a way to understand those mindsets as a writer, which is important, and not in any way shape or form something you should do in real life. I acknowledge if you wanna do shit like this you’ll find the details on how to be an asshole somewhere anyways though, so I’m not gonna let you ruin it for everyone who just needs some writing help to make their character’s manipulation/emotional crisis more realistic. Onto the cut.
Hi! So first off, fair warning. I may get a little testy, or sound like I’m talking about shit happening from a first-hand receiving view without meaning to. Spoiler: I am. I’ll try to couch this in writer-talk more, sorry if I sound salty, or slip and don’t notice.
So! You’re a writer. You’re writing a character who is designed to produce conflict, and emotions within the reader by emotionally manipulating others. First things first, look at yourself, and your character’s goals. You need to have relatively firm goals in mind when you’re figuring out what to do with a character’s motivations and personality.
What reaction do you want from the reader or your opposite in a roleplay? Do you want your partner/reader to feel sorry for them being caught up in their own web of lies, or do you want them to hate them and rebel against them? Do you want them to feel sickened, relate to the character, or feel pity for them? What goals does your character have in mind? Does it just feel good, or are they looking for attention? Do they feel the need to control things?
First let’s look at the motivations of the character. Usually the urge to manipulate others stems from some sort of issue in their past. This is gonna simplify things a lot, but that’s because we’re making shit up and not dealing with real people. Real people are hella complex, they have way more detail to their “backstory” because they’re real, complex, thinking individuals who may have issues we can’t even know because they’re repressed. This is a character, under our control. So we can define what happened to them, and how it effected them, to a minute degree.
Control is a big player in this ‘game’, needing control can push the character to do things they might not have otherwise. A loss of control in their childhood that significantly impacted them could cause this need/goal. Having someone take their favorite toy and destroy it in front of them? Yeah, I don’t know about you, but if someone did that, I wouldn’t fuckin’ want nobody to do anything I didn’t plan for ever again. The character might then start focusing on ways to stop that from happening.
They might just like the feel of control, rather than fear a lack of it. It feels good to see the puppets dance, so to speak, so when they force others to do as they command by playing their emotions it feels like victory. Victory is delicious, and most people whet that appetite on nice things like cooking a nice dinner, or drawing, or running in races. Characters who are emotionally manipulative instead get their kicks from hurting others in such a way that they get what they want, which may include just getting attention.
The basic issue here is, regardless of other issues for them, they make choices that hurt other people. Logically, they know what they are doing even if they block it out or try to ignore it. They may come up with a complex, distorted, long winded reason why they are in fact the victim, or that their behavior is somehow righteous. They are deliberately going out of their way to look for weaknesses in others, and exploit them for personal gain. This is just the sign of an asshole. Be aware you are playing or writing an asshole.
So, have their history in mind? Have you built up their reasoning for thinking that they are in the right at all times? Have you picked their goals or personality? If so, the next step is actual manipulation. Now we’re gonna jump right into how and why people react to things, and the logical fallacies that get preyed on by the less scrupulous.
We see it in advertising all the time. That commercial with the sad kennel puppies? The time your parent told you to eat your veggies because somewhere out there another kid is starving and would be so lucky? This is called Appeal to Emotion, and is in formal logic classes, considered a fallacy used in arguments to support your point despite it not having actual back-up. When you use these, you can appeal to fear, envy, hatred, pity, pride, and more. Coherent arguments of course can have an aspect of emotional connection, it’s what makes us passionate. The fallacy comes about when the emotions are the only argument. Since we’re affected by emotions, this fallacy works wonders… even if they’re dishonest and flawed.
So say, the other character went out for lunch. They didn’t invite your character. So, in order to get attention to make up for this, and control such behaviors, the manipulative asshole character would probably confront them about it. Depending on how deep they are with the other character, they’re be subtle. Pouting a little, and sighing. Maybe mentioning they’re hungry, and looking hurt when the other character mentions lunch. Sure, they could get their ass up and get food themselves, but that’s not the point. The point is, their victim did something, and they want them to feel bad about it.
Subtle is how they draw you in. There could be, if you squinted, some feelings hurt by not being asked to join in. Perhaps they want to hang out with you, or they miss you, or they’re just playing around and teasing that they’re sad. The part that makes it manipulative is when they draw out the sadness until you feel guilty, and then laugh it off and wave you away. Step one is done, now you think they’re joking, and still feel kind of bad. Hooks have been set.
So your character can start kicking it up a notch over time. Your character might do something else by themselves like a healthy normal adult, and that character will complain. “Why wasn’t I invited?” At first they’ll continue to play it as a joke, so the other character will do it repeatedly. This becomes multiple strikes they can complain about over time, because they never actually explained themselves as upset. Now the manipulator can get pissed at the victim character: you didn’t realize I was actually upset?! Wow, you don’t even care about me at all! I can’t believe you’re so unobservant. Do you just not remember?
Here kids, we get into gaslighting. Events are now happening in a parallel which is sorta similar, but not quite. Sure they were upset, but they played it off. Without communicating, they’ve worked themselves into a victim position. They are being ignored, unwanted, and apparently the character don’t even care about their feelings enough to read them properly when you two have a talk! This is a lie. They were hiding their emotions, they regularly downplayed it until they could use it against the other character, and going out to lunch or a movie alone is not an attack on them just by existing. In fact they’re suggesting joking petulance is now a “talk.”
Now that the victim character feels guilty and unsure of themselves, they do what a normal person would do to a real issue. They try to work it out, to figure out a way to make them feel better. They offer to take them with them. They invite them out, a few times, and try to make amends. Sure it feels a little weird, but they’re a friend. It’s easy to just do something nice! Heck, they might even accept, and the two characters might have a lovely time. This instills a ‘if you’re good, I’ll be good too’ mentality in the victim. There is now a set up where you get reinforced to follow what they want because it causes less problems.
These issues may pop up everywhere. A victim may be told they chew too loud, or they shouldn’t watch a TV show without the manipulator. Maybe they’ll be upset by the toilet seat, or some real things just to make sure it’s realistic. They’ll draw it out, be ‘uncomfortable’ explaining why this makes them upset. Everything is a hardship. The difference between real issues and manipulation here is somehow the only bad things are things the victim likes, or wants to keep safe or to themselves. Things they can take to make the victim less happy. To the manipulator it may look like they’re expressing how much they care by getting rid of their favorite or special things that they can get no where else. The manipulator also makes it hard on themselves to explain, despite things not being that bad, so that they can add another level on if the victim complains: now they’re a burden to them because of all their baggage. Even non-manipulators have hard to explain things, the manipulator however will do this whenever they’re rejected out of hand, very quickly because it produces results. Victims take the time to build up to explaining why something’s important because it’s really hard to do so, manipulators can jump in when convenient.
A kind normal person feels getting rid of someone because of baggage would be a terrible thing, after all they have baggage too! They have special things they like to have just so. The character continues to try and make things easier, because clearly even if the manipulator hasn’t had a particularly harder life, they have had it hit harder to make them so delicate. They deserve happiness, and to feel cared for. The gaslighting continues, the manipulative character begins to point out every time they make a mistake or forget something, and starts laughing about how forgetful the victim character is. They explain situations just a little south of how they actually happened, keying themselves as the victim. Any argument gets heated, but then suddenly they drop all heat and start ‘worrying’ about their own mental state. Maybe they’re wrong, and they’re so so sorry. But can you still not do that, if it ever comes up? This is a fake concession to lure you in by making this the easier path.
So slowly the victim character becomes used to these demands, even as they grow wider and wider in the net they cast. A manipulator needs their full attention, and to cockblock anyone raising doubts about the issues. So they start fights and burning bridges with the victim’s friends. They might even lie directly to them about being the real victim, far ahead of the actual victim noticing. Getting rid of all of their contacts makes it easier to manipulate them because then they can’t find an outside opinion. Only tainted, controlled ones. The hooks set in a little deeper.
So your victim is alone in the world, or only has a few friends. They begin questioning what is wrong with themselves, and struggle to become a better person. There’s honeymoon periods, there the abusive character is happy, and genuinely makes the victim feel good about themselves… until they get bored and need another mistake.
Now that they have you alone, so it’s easier to just get mad and ‘need to cool down’. So they abandon the victim character for long spaces of time. This forces them to question themselves, and try desperately to find solutions without any means to use them. This also makes them the bad guy if they try to communicate. Suddenly these brand new created boundaries are being broken. Ostracizing people causes genuine pain, which means that it’s easier to control them because pain is a great way to teach someone they’re “bad”.
From a victim’s perspective this is all normal and reasonable because it’s slowly gained in momentum over time. They feel good, sometimes, and it’s really good. They just keep making mistakes (spoiler: they don’t, the mistakes are manufactured.) and if they were “better” this wouldn’t be happening to them. They get into the headspace of needing to not only obey, but become a god damn psychic to understand what the manipulative character wants next.
How does this manipulative motherfucker keep things interesting if they’ve already broken someone to their whims though? By adding in things that are seemingly contradictory, but depend on ‘mood’. Mood whiplash is common in manipulators, and they will go from having a great day to having a terrible one based on ‘outside’ forces. The victim character cannot foresee these, nor stop them, so they might get to have a wonderful morning! And then some asshole says something rude, and the manipulator says they’re having a TERRIBLE day now, this triggered a headache, and they’re so miserable. The illnesses will always be invisible, it’s easier to get one at the drop of the hat that way even if it invalidates real versions of the illnesses. Watch for faked symptoms that magically disappear when they want to do something they like, like listen to loud pounding music in headphones during a “headache” while refusing treatment. The victim may try to help, but no. The manipulator now says the victim is making it worse by being clingy and needy. That, or they’re going to blow their cover.
So the victim learns to stay in their box unless the manipulator wants to take them out and play with them. They suppress their desires and personality because it’s the only way that makes sense and will keep the friendship going. After 6 months, we humans begin developing bonds based on attachment rather than love or lust. The main chemicals involved are oxytocin and vasopressin. Same shit you get after an orgasm, but it cements that you need someone, that your life would be emptier without them. For the characters: The manipulator is not worming their way into someone’s heart and making a hole. They are building additional stress, which leads to good feelings, which all bond together with the sticky sap of lies to CREATE a net around both characters. They’re like a caddisfly creating a burrow instead of finding one where they actually fit.
It’s easy to fall too deep into the spell of a long relationship, even if it’s just an acquaintanceship, or friendship. Dateship is even worse, because then you get to play on heartstrings and they’re obligated to fix them because they made a deal to work things out with you and stay in love as long as possible.
Over time the victim stops being useful. They’ve been turned into a pitiful wreck, who needs the manipulator to tell them what to do every step of the way. Either that, or they make friends and a spark of rebellion means they start fighting back. Keeping logs. Forcing them to sign things. Making sure fights are in view of other people. Once additional not-victims see things, it can be easier for the real victim to find solid footing. A manipulative fuckhead character does not like solid footing. They want to be relied on. Either way, they’ve expired in their usefulness. The manipulative character has to move on.
They can do so by latching onto one of the friends peeled away from the initial victim by seeding years ago that the victim is the bad guy, or from a current group member who has been explicitly warned not to mess with the victim, or even an entirely new group fashioned behind the scenes. Because the manipulator is free to lie, steal, cheat, and have full exciting lives while the victim has to play to their demands.
They can now bring forth a story, that the victim has been holding them back and hurting them for years. Every detail, every piece of their lives is now a way to hurt the victim one last time. The trick is, they have to make sure everyone new knows that the victim is a liar, is bad, is toxic and should be avoided.
This is something the victim will also want to say about the abuser… later. When they recognize everything they’ve done while they were tucked under the spell. They will question themselves, for very long periods of time, while the abuser/manipulator character will jump right on that shit. Spreading the lies early means no one will check on the victim character. They can be eliminated as the real liar if they strike first.
Clues that the manipulator character is really the asshole include: Being too quick on the draw while pointing out who is wrong. Victims need time to process and unravel, the manipulator knows the lies already. Prolonging it. Victims want to stop contact, to move on, to warn others but to avoid the situations that make them feel queasy and hurt. Manipulators will constantly check their profiles, leave messages years later to hurt the victim, and spread nasty stories long after the victim character has moved on. They will boil in the drama and prolong it… especially as baggage the next victim has to be careful of and work around of while they get drawn into the net.
So after that heart rending rendition of how manipulative characters work internally, how do they work for an author/player? Most of the time when an author wants to make a manipulative character it’s to damage the hero or give them something to grow beyond. Think Mother Gothell from Rapunzel. That shit was hella abusive and emotionally manipulative! Drawn on her for inspiration. Research this shit, and then apply it. Do you want to damage the other character for hurt/comfort stuff later? Do you use it as in-character fictional catharsis? It will matter how you word it.
So be aware of what you’re doing. Do not fall for the spell of just behaving like a manipulator in text and going ‘it’s okay it’s fictional’. It will take a real toll on the other player if you do not highlight what your manipulative character is doing. Be a talkative narrator. Explain what they’re doing, at least a little bit, or you can actually fuck up people.
For instance. Let’s go back to the sniffling about lunch.
Agatha was staring at her book with the distant gaze of someone preoccupied, sniffing a third time that hour. Lloyd had, in her opinion, abandoned her for far too long to have lunch. It was time to catch his attention. She pushed out her lower lip, willing herself to look a bit more upset. She gently touched her own stomach, “Boy,” she said wistfully, “I’m quite hungry…”
This is way better for the other player to understand that she’s playing at being sad, without destroying how realistic it looks to the other character. This lays down the obvious in narration, without completely outing her in play. The next is a bad version of this scene:
Agatha sniffled, eyes glazed. Her lip was extended in a pout and her body language writ large how miserable she was, “Boy, I’m quite hungry.” She sniffed, quietly to herself to avoid Lloyd hearing. It was self-pity, a deep loneliness that ruined her reading…
Good writing! Baaaad for intent. This makes her upset look genuine (which it isn’t) which may make it harder for the other player to respond. Watch how you word things. Explain them from an outsider perspective to give an inside view of how things are working. This makes the story move easier.
Plus, you don’t wanna be that prick who goes from IC to OOC without any real distinction between the two and starts a fight because it turns out an IC woe was an OOC one, and your partner responded “wrong”. That’s you being a jerk, so don’t do that. Make sure you have a clear view of what is in character and what is out of character. It’s important, to keep the scenes strong, and to keep from your partner feeling taken advantage of when it turns out to be some massive manipulation. They may actually fall for it if you ever fall into the habit of actually hiding your intent behind a thin smoke-screen of ‘but it’s IC’.
Double check with your partner often, check that they recognize what’s going on. This may be as easy as chuckling over a scene with them ooc ((Hah, isn’t Aggie being such a jerk? Lloyd would never do that to her! )) to actually sitting down and going ((Hey you okay? This is pretty intense, and she’s clearly got him wrapped around her little finger. I wanna make sure you’re okay and know I don’t believe what she’s saying. ))
Partners are the most important thing here. Readers, on the other hand, don’t have to have an active role. They’re being fed the entire story, so you can fuck with them all you want and it’ll just be a twist happening to someone else. You can play with words, hide your intent, and slowly reveal how twisted dear old Aggie is over time, instead of putting it out there each step of the way so your friend playing lloyd can catch onto which way to write the victim into. Readers are there to absorb and get amazed and shocked and feel relatable pain, loss, and sorrow. They can stop, and walk away if it’s too much. A partner playing another character feel obligation to stick around and see how things play out even if they’re hurt. They have more creativity and time put into the situation. Remember that while you’re playing, and remember they put themselves where the character is to see what comes next. Give them respect as human beings, and don’t fucking hurt them.
So yes, how do we use this in other situations though? A suave magical emperor and his subordinates? Same concepts really, you play on emotions. If the hero is trying to stop you as the villain, you put their family in danger. You make them question their choices, you hurt them. You make them out to be the villain and you a simple victim. You point out all the ways what they’ve done could make them look bad, or hurt others. You focus on trying to make them hate themselves, or feel like there’s another path.
You try to look like a friend, if they haven’t outed your character as a villain yet, and slowly bond with them. Point out that everyone around them is gross, that they should be avoided. Praise them for things you want to see, but make subtle indications other ideas are terrible. Complain about things that other people do, but that they do as well. That’s how you work around directly confronting them before they deeply trust you. Make their world view shift to favor your opinion.
The evil wizard telling you you’re under a curse that makes everything you do seem cruel to others, so you’re constantly second guessing yourself. Pointing out what you’re doing mirrors themselves. All logical fallacies pointing to emotion as reasoning, rather than anything else. It’s a focus on guilt, on making them want to change. You don’t force, you persuade, limit their choices, and break them. The less they’re willing to trust themselves and their friends, the easier they are to sway to evil. They may even start imitating you to get your love and attention. You can train someone to be cruel.
And that, my kiddies, is how you make a villain that people fucking hate. Because the hero seems lost, and they want to yell NO! Don’t listen to Mighty Thorgar The Cruel! He’s using you! Auuugh! The more you explain why they themselves have been stuck in this career choice the more likable they are, but if you go too far you may be travelling from ‘morally grey’ into Loki and Draco fan territory where their fave did nothing wrong it was all a product of how they were raised. You can do wrong things and then grow up and change. Infants scream and fake crying to make mommy do shit too, doesn’t mean most of them won’t grow out of it.
It’s how you write that will define how people perceive things. So double check your writing, always. Make sure it reads your goals, not just reads as well written. Check with your partners, scare your readers, and let your characters prey on people’s feelings. Can they hurt them? Go for it. Just do it safely and with a reasonable definition between IC and OOC. Don’t let it get out of control with another person, ever. It hurts. Good luck on your writing.
Oh, and because I know it’ll happen… I’m sorry if you were abused like this. I’m sorry if you feel targeted. This was written for writers only, and maybe spotting habits so you can get yourself out early. If you feel called out by this post or the behaviors in it, remember that I don’t know you. That if you are offended, I’m reflecting something you don’t like. So look at yourself, and consider if you want that part of you to exist. You can change if you truly want to and are willing to monitor yourself. Good luck, and this disclaimer is so you know I am not pointing fingers at you… unless you’re the asshole who did this to me so I mean, fuck that guy.
BACK AFTER GETTING IN, THANK U MOD RULER, COLLEGE DONE NOW TIME FOR LAW SCHOOL,,, also I made an imagines blog (kimetsu no yaiba, anyone?) while I was waiting for this to open, please check out this? Also, announcements later. Thankks! - Mod Avenger
Beowulf
He’s terrifying. He cages you behind him like some terrible beast guarding a princess in a tower. Of course you are; to him you are kind, your songs like nectar from a flower. He wants to be the only one listening to them, they’re all taking advantage of you that’s why–
You need to be safe. Absolutely. His intentions are pure, all he wants to do is keep you away from conniving servants, those mages who look at you like a lab specimen, your parents who look at you and no longer see their child but a battle-worn soldier, everyone.
Keeps you in line with threats. It’s just verbal at first. Then it escalates when he hits you one day. You look at him with so much hurtand while he hates it, Beowulf notices that it keeps you so much more in line. It helps him keep you in line.
Soon you’ve got a pavlovian condition where the slightest tensing of his arm makes you flinch, as you know what usually happens after that. If you were so docile, maybe we wouldn’t have to be ths way, he thinks. But now, you’re safe. Nobody can do anything to you now. N o on e.
Merlin
Merlin keeps his S/O in line by eternal sleep. That’s the last resort. Second is paranoia, just enough for them to only turn to him, and first, nightmares.
He gives his S/O nightmares of everything they fear. Maybe everyone leaving them for a better, stronger master. Maybe their family locked away by the Clock Tower, their lineage opened and examined. Maybe this time, the clock tower cuts you up and examines every vein and cell.
In those dreams, Merlin makes sure he is the one who saves you. All the time. The Cycle repeats until you can’t tell apart reality from dreams anymore. You’re erratic. Pushing everyone away. Mashu is concerned, but she doesn’t understand. Only Merlin does.
You sleep more and more with Merlin. He covers you up and makes you dream of a world where everything is soft, and whatever you want it to be. A Pokemon adventure? You become a Master with Merlin! Fantasy? Both of you travel! and your dreams turn into days and days turn into years and years turn into decades and decades into centuries but that’s okay! Merlin is with you so (WAKE UP)
“You don’t need to wake up, my little dove. Stay here f or re ver.”
Proto Cu
Okay, so Proto Cu is the younger version of Fate Cu. He has Emer. And Yet Emer can’t hold a candle to you, and neither does Fand, the fairy woman Emer was ever jealous of, who was able to charm Cu.
Cu is chill! That’s a fact. But he gets unnecessarily riled up when you’re involved in the conversation. When other eyes stray to you, be immediately slips between you and them, arm around you and smiling with thinly veiled malice.
He’s one of the more healthier yandere, tbh. Cu is confident in his abilities and looks, so he’s fairly lenient on his victimS/O. He just comes off as territorial, and somewhat aggressive when another takes interest in his S/O.
But when he snaps, say goodbye to the outside world for months at a time. He’s your only companion now. Keep your eyes and hands on him so Cu might forgive you and let you out again.
“You don’t need to look at anyone else, yeah? I’m here. I’ll give you everything to give. Oh, but I’m taking everything you are in exchange, of course. I love you so m u ch after all.”
I’m assuming this is a competition between the two, as you didn’t specify to separate them, Nonny? I’d still write this as OT3 anyway HAHAHAHA *cracks knuckles* I’VE BEEN WAAAITIN’ FOR THIIIIS- Mod Avenger
Romani and Merlin often argue on who saw you first. It seems cute at first glance, but then they both have (had, in Romani’s case) Clairvoyance: they’ve been using their eyes since time immemorial and even before you were actually “here” to watch over you, all times of the day.
Merlin has seen you reincarnate and be born for over the course of a few thousand years, and it has driven him half-mad. He sees you through the windows of the accursed tower he was sealed in, and he just wants to reach over and slide his palm over your back, watch you sleep, and just cage you down beside him as you slept, sweet and small like a tiny dove–
He’s sent love letters in the form of dreams, and he does it every time Samhain or your birthday rolls around, and sure, you forget as you go through the day, but he sees you looking over your shoulder, and Merlin grinsbecause he knows that you feel that he’s there.
And if he knows that if those he had slept with over the years were like tangy apple juice or citrus orange, then if he had you, Merlin was certain you would taste like ambrosia. Or maybe the mead served in Tir na nOg, and he would definitely certainly unavoidably taste it at some point, mark my words, beloved oneit’s your fate and we will be bound over and over and over again
As for Romani, if he was a Yandere, then did you think him being summoned as Maris Billy’s servant was a coincidence? No. Of course not. This was all God’s plan, and he would finally see you after years and centuries and all those lives of waiting, longing, pining, and and–
He needs to be human, of course. as sure as he was that it would help the shock-and-awe factor to appeal to you that he was the King of Magecraft, he didn’t need you shying away from him. Romani (Solomon) wanted you close, and he would do any means to achieve that goal. The downside is that he has to save the world before meeting you. Bummer.
Romani pulls a few strings, and he gets you up to Chaldea; and he can’t believe his eyes when you’re standing before him: all perfection and radiating warmth. He needs it. He cuts and cuts, and he fakes illness, and it makes his heart bloom into indecipherable warmth when you show him, only him, all those expressions, and no, darling, you don’t really need them alright? Don’t worry, I’m here. Stay with m e .
→kinesiology major!jung jaehyun x stem major!reader
genre: 2000s chat room au, so much smut, suspense, drama, psychological thriller, established relationship, college au
synopsis: finally having met the stranger on your screen, things take a turn for better or for worse; friendships is on the line, intentions are questionable, and perceptions become skewed. with the flow of things due to his selfish tendencies, jaehyun’s naivety fails to show him the bigger picture.
tw (for teaser): smut on full post, toxic/mutual codependent relationship, mentions of stalking, possessiveness, obsession, gaslighting/manipulation, violence, drinking
socialite/high society au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers
word count: 20k
warnings: discussions of poverty, manipulation, smut - minors do not interact! (unprotected sex, rough blowjob, use of the word “daddy” but like, twice)
note: y/n is siblings with taeyong and haechan, so you can presume she is korean and has the last name lee
You have him hook, line, and sinker.
He fell for your act, hard, and suddenly, a horrible thought comes to your mind. It nearly sucks the breath from your lungs with its cruelty. Could you really be so ruthless to do something like that to him? Could you bear it?
It’s been six years since Jaehyun went off to study in America, two years since your family’s fall from grace, and one year since you started sugar dating to put food on the table and pay your younger brother’s tuition. When you encounter your childhood friend Jung Jaehyun at a party, you think you’ve stumbled upon a windfall— here’s a man who’s willing to spend exorbitant amounts of money on you and shower you with gifts, all without even asking for a single kiss in return.
How fortunate, you think, to find a rich man so blindingly oblivious to your motives.
Or: In which you manipulate your childhood friend for money, and he knows exactly what you’re doing.
