I'm Am Deceased, THIS MEANS SO MUCH OMG, Especially Coming From YOU....I Love Love Love Dark!Bucky And

this is how i imagine thay my blog looks like (SHE'S STUNNIN')

SABRINA CARPENTER attending the Met Gala (May 5, 2025)

CHARACTERS LIST

MY BELOVED GHOST AND ME...

...SITTING IN A TREE.

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꧁༺ 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

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꧁༺ 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 (𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄)

꧁༺ 𝐖𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 (𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋)

꧁༺ 𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

꧁༺ 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅

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༻꧂ 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐁. 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄

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ACTORS' CHARACTERS

𖦹༻꧂𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)

𖦹︎ ༻꧂ 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)

𖦹︎ ༻꧂𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)

𖦹︎ ༻꧂𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)

༻꧂ 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐀𝐋𝐋)

༻꧂𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐒 (𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐈)

༻꧂ 𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘) & 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒 (𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘)

༻꧂ 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐀; 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊)

༻꧂ 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋

✦ other important links: masterlist / warnings and information

©thehydraethereal 2025.

I am genuinely tweaking, the waiting for a new chapter is OVER, but it was SO WORTH IT. I loved seeing more of their non-horny state of mind and the unnoticed effect reader has on each and every one of their minds, it is simply delicioussss. Catfish and Joel are my MEN, I am so serious, and their contrast is eating at me.

ATE THIS UP BABE!

surrender

Summary: Catfish is made to choose.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOOOOT EATTTT. Noncon, dark dark themes, sexual slavery, reader is in pain and exhausted, heed all previous warnings, threatening, Dark Joel, forced drinking, manipulation, mentions of noncon, idk what else to tag

Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader

Joel felt over aware. As he sat down on the brittle wooden chair, fingerprints drawing circles on the table, the whiskey slid easily down his throat. Something he had gotten from trading with Jackson.

Your image dwindled on his mind, growing weaker by each passing minute. Naked, battered and bruised. He knew you were in pain, pretty cunt gaping obscenely. He knew that he could just crawl over you and fuck you once again if he wished it. You still laid in his bed, bathed and draped in new sheets, awaiting.

The door creaked open, the afternoon breeze accompanying the intruder of his thoughts. Whiskey’s shoulders squared with pride and his chest puffed, closing the door with a cocky kick of his heel.

Joel observed him as he strutted towards the table. His arm stretched under the thick denim of his jacket, and he presented his palm with a cocky grin.

The metal was tarnished, coppery, but the outline was clear. A tiny helicopter pin, Whiskey offered.

Joel felt amusement tug at his lips, but he schooled his expression. The pin clattered against the table, Joel’s eyes glued to it.

Sweet fucking Bingo.

The key to make you finally un-cling to Catfish right in his hands. He took it in his pointer and thumb, observing the way the kitchen light caught onto it.

Whiskey hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts once more.

“I think this settles for a good hour…” He drawled, eyebrow cocking teasingly. A part of him was joking, and the other part of him created a prominent bulge in his pants.

Joel avoided a disgusted scrunch of his face, fighting twitching muscles.

“She’ll need a break for tonight.” He declared, a solemn order that wiped the smirk off his man’s face. "But you'll be rewarded for this, that I promise."

Joel would he lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Catfish flinched as the refrigerator door slammed closed under his grip. The cool, condensed bottle sent jolts along his hands. He was buzzing with excitement as he twirled on his feet and planted the bottle on the table with a slight thump.

He ignored the hollers of enjoyment of his fellow men, kicking the chair and taking a seat. Catfish froze under his stare, the all consuming guilt, he pondered.

He grabbed the tumblers on the table, filling them up. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. He poured more onto the last one, and pushed the glass to his designated driver.

Catfish’s brows furrowed under the baseball cap, shaking his head slightly. Joel could see the circles under his eyes, could feel the tenseness of his tanned skin; all a result of you. Your stay in the house was driving him mad.

“Not drinking tonight.” Catfish grumbled, but Joel tapped the glass in front of him.

“You’ll need it.” He muttered, enough to make the others cast side eyed glances at him, with sneaky intrigue. An order.

Javier cleared his throat, flicking ashes into the tray. “How’s the bitch?”

Bitch. Joel liked the ring of that nickname.

Joel’s lips curled into a sloppy smirk. “Fucked out.” He responded casually. “Giving her some damn rest, she took it like a champ.”

Javier smiled in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Catfish’s hand tense around the condensed glass. Of course he wouldn't enjoy the way they talked about her.

“Gonna bring some ‘plan b’s tomorrow.” He informed, gingerly. “no need to knock her up.”

Joel felt his muscles turn taut, and he grounded his teeth.

“Definitely.” Dieter added, with an air of authority he shouldn’t have. “No need for a little fucker here.”

Some laughed, Oberyn tsked, eyes dreamy as always. “She’d look nice, all round, those tits would be something I’d die for.”

The chair screeched as Catfish rose to his feet, still clutching the tumbler in his hand. Eyes shot at him.

“Where ya going?” Joel barked, a bit more forceful than he would wanted to. God, adrenaline was nibbling at him.

Hatred.

It spread all around Catfish’s face as he looked at them. As if he was any more worthy than they were, any more good. A look he had from the very first time, when Joel recruited him, that told him he thought he was far above them.

“I’m going to bed.” He answered, though his feet stayed stuck to the ground, awaiting.

“No, you’re not.” Joel nudged to the chair. Catfish sat down with a sigh. Good boy.

“What’s the matter?” Acacius frowned, leaning back into the wooden seat. “Don’t like us talking about her like that?”

Catfish’s jaw twitched.

“You never had an issue before.” Whiskey added, the thick smoke of his cigar curling around him in the air. "you even fucked some bitches back then."

Catfish took a sip of whatever was in his cup, perhaps to deter the questioning, perhaps because of the way Joel burnt holes into his skull with his eyes was making him uneasy.

And they persisted.

“You are too soft on her,” Javier deemed between curls of smoke. "that's why she clings so much to ya."

They agreed silently, and Joel felt the flames of jealousy licking at his spine. Each time you mumbled his name softly, he could almost feel the need in your voice for it to be him. To be Catfish the man that was pleasuring you.

As if he was the only man that could do it.

"What were you talking about in the shower?"

Catfish's face paled, but he still cleared his throat. "Nothin'."

"Didn't sound like nothing." Joel bit, studying carefully the nervous flicker of Catfish's hands. "She wants ya to fuck her?"

Catfish grimaced at the crassness of his words, untouched by the way Joel dipped his hand onto the pocket of his shirt.

"She's loosing her mind." He cleared, voice a plea, an excuse, whatever. It didn't matter to Joel.

He shrugged before dropping the pin onto the table; Catfish's eyes flickered from the dark onyx pools that gazed slowly up at him and the tarnished metal that clattered against the table.

His lips parted.

Bingo.

"How's your boy?" Joel drawled, tapping his big, imposing fingers on the wooden table. For a mere moment, he was alone with Catfish, just them under the warm lamp light. "What was his name, Tyler?"

"Joel." Catfish groaned, eyes glued to the silver helicopter.

"When was the last time you saw him, huh?"

Hands curled onto fists, and they slammed against the table. Enough.

Perhaps Joel was blissfully ignorant of the men around them, but Catfish was painfully aware. They were the only thing deterring him from pouncing on top of him.

"What have you done?" He spat, voice shivering.

Joel chuckled darkly, "Nothin'." He retorted.

He could see the way silence clawed at his ears, oh so begging for an answer.

"I haven't done anything, yet." Joel punctuated, slowly feeding him. "Just like you haven't fucked our little bitch yet."

Realization casted on Catfish features, and he shook his head on instinct.

"Joel, this is serious-"

"You know what is serious to me?" He cut him short. "That I cannot possibly trust one of my men anymore, just because he is pussy-whipped with a pussy he doesn't even fuck."

Joel's glare was intense, diminishing Catfish with his sharp tongue.

"And if I can't trust ya, then I have no reason to keep evading that little camp were your son is at."

His final jab made Catfish's eyes cloud with frustration, tears almost brimming. Fear bubbled in his throat as he spoke.

"What do you want from me?"

Cracked.

"You have to fuck her."

Catfish let out a dry, humorless laugh. Panic was nipping at him.

"What do you win from that?"

Joel's brows furrowed. "I miss the times were you just obeyed."

But as his hand reached over to the pin, Catfish spoke again. "Fine, Joel, fine."

Sweat beaded at his forehead just below his baseball cap, and his puppy dog eyes were wide, fearful.

A smug grin tugged at Joel's lips, triumphant in all it's glory. He downed the glass and rose to his feet in anticipation.

"You don't mean-"

"Yes, now. Finish your drink."

Tags:

@tateypots @koshkaj-blog @paink1llerf0rm1ller @oldloganslittleslut @purple-fig @megjohnston23 @katwriteshardy @natalieispunk

@puduvallee @pedrofan @rant-throw-away @jalepp @lumpatto @miragens-para-uma-vitoria

STOP RIGHT NOW. I LOVE YOU SM. ♡

This is my "I made it" moment, really, I am so overwhelmed.

hot girls read @thehydraethereal before bed 🙂‍↕️

EXACTLY BABE! FINALLY SOMEONE THINKS LIKE ME.

like, i have only started one series with him because NO ONE REQUESTS anything 😭

i'll take him either way, scarred or not, because GOOD. LORD, is he hottttt

my genuine question is why is Brock Rumlow so underrated like...that man is delicious and y'all sleeping on him, I swear😭

fuck, I need him so much, and your talent is incredible, do I even have words? No. I don't. Oh, how I need more right now 😫

While holding you

Summary: Your second wedding night, but now under the General.

Pairing: Dark! Suitor! Marcus Acacius x Queen! Reader

warnings: noncon, abusive relationship, taunting, psychological abuse, suicidal thoughts, reader is describes as short in comparison but you can imagine Acacius as tall as you want (he's huge), unprotected sex (p in v), handjobs (f and m recieving), angst.

Series Masterlist

Acacius shut the door behind him, taking the key with himself. You were too tired, too tired to attempt anything as your eyes drifted to sleep.

You woke up from time to time, seeing the sun move behind the clouds. It was evening when you heard the door creaking again. From your position you were unable to see it, but despite smelling Lucius perfume, you knew who it was.

Clenching your eyes shut, you felt him near the bed. A cool circle fell on your stomach as he hunched over to untie you. You could smell mint, eucalyptus alike blood and dirt. Once your arms were free and you attempted to bring them close, you yelped out from the immense pain of the strain.

A hand propped you up, sitting you in the soiled sheets, and the ring fell between your legs. Seeing it brought a storm of emotions into you, a deep ache settled in your heart. A golden band with an oval shaped top and engraved with MAXIMUS inside. As your hands reached for it, Acacius undid the gag around your mouth. Your jaw ached as you closed your lips, tongue dry and throat hoarse.

“He is gone.” He told you coldly, and you didn’t reply. Too busy looking at the ring, propped in bloodied sheets. “Mourn him while you can, because tonight is our wedding night.”

The wedding. A reminder you didn’t need.

“You killed him.” You croaked, and he just gave you a blank stare.

“I didn’t,” He told you, matter of factly. “A Numidian ship comes to harbor carrying dozens of barbarians along Lucius; another one of them.”

You wanted to know more, to hear him confess; he kept his sentence short, punishing.

“He was furious; couldn’t kill him until he was captured.” He chuckled, as if telling you a funny anecdote. “Your Gladiator was a skilled fighter, but ten against one is no fair fight.”

You suppressed a sob, knowing that if it came out it wouldn’t stop. His hands were now in the sides of your chest, hoisting you to your unsteady feet. You allowed him, too weak to do anything against him, once again. As expected he guided you to the bath in your room. Perhaps the water had been prepared while you were unconscious. Servants did that all the time while you were sleeping, coming through the back door-

The back door. The one leading to the bath and then into your room.

You realized then how he had entered the room. But it was futile now. He lowered you into the bath tub at the floor of the room, and you sat down on the marble seat. Your head lulled to the side of the tub as you felt the grime of his actions unstick to you. You clutched the ring in your hand.

“Took it while I slit his throat.” He groaned, as if it brought him pleasure. “See how nice I am?”

Even while seeing you utterly destroyed he couldn’t come to he merciful to your soul. A cup was pressed against your lips and you could almost moan as the sweet, refreshing drink slid down your throat, easing your dry mouth.

Before you could down too much of the liquid he took it away from you, some dripping down your chin.

“Ah ah ah,” He tutted, using his other hand to dip into the water and clean your face. “Can’t have you drunk on our wedding night; want you to be awake.”

Your eyes clenched and a whimper attempted to escape your pursed lips, as if begging him not to. You shook your head, hands too weak to splash against the water in frustration.

“You’ll be the most beautiful wife.”

And with that he left, and you contemplated drowning yourself. It felt like the easiest way out, but what would that work for? You’d be leaving the people of Rome to his mercy.

It sped by you; your maids padding into the room, attempting to cover the bruises you wouldn’t speak about and stitching you into your dress. Soon enough you were sitting on the carriage, the veil shielding your shame from the City of Rome and the gaze of your fiancé.

You took pleasure in the improperness of the hasty wedding, the lack of a sacrifice, the absence of your father; he had been present in your first wedding. The dress you had been forced into was the same too, only with some alterations done that you assumed was Acacius’ idea. Only his sick mind would lower the neckline do much.

You spat out vows, bile rising to your throat as Acacius dangerous, canine grin stayed through out his. He was clad in white once again, as the day he had been presented the laurel wreath crown for his bravery. The color made his tan skin shine under the dipping sun; he looked as some wretched god.

The wedding party would be celebrated the next day; perhaps another hasty attempt to procure an heir. You sat down once again in the carriage, realizing through your haze it wasn’t taking you to the Palace.

“What are you doing?” You snapped at him, as he directed the golden carriage. He didn’t answer. Despite being in sight of the whole City of Rome, you didn’t falter to cause a scene. “Where are you taking me?!”

His hands tightened around the reins and his jaw ticked; what could he do in front of Rome?

Placing a broad hand in your back, he pushed you close to him.

“I am taking my wife to my Villa to fuck a heir into her.” He whispered, smile still present for show. “Think carefully of what you are doing, my Empress, think in whose hands you’ll be later.”

He hushed you, and you almost hid your face as tears streaked down. You still waved at your people, it was improper not to.

The stars had set over the night sky as you arrived to the torch lit villa; It was huge, imposing as Acacius himself. You remembered your first wedding night; June, and Lucius had chuckled when he had to pretend kidnapping you as you went so willingly. You didn’t need to pretend now.

He hoisted you from the carriage into his arms, you didn’t fight, didn’t want to please him further by carrying out the proper ritual. Your feet clanked against the door frame, and he took long strides into the Villa.

It was as you had expected; decorated strategically in bronze statues and climbing flowers that veined through the white walls; you gazed at the pool as he carried you through marble pillars.

His chambers were just like you expected; a big white bed with blankets as reds as his war cape, a thick brown closet and some paintings adorning the white walls; War, Ares and…Hades and Persephone.

He dropped you into a Lectus couch; another wedding tradition. The mattress felt soft against your sore body. He dropped too, caging you in his body, the gold embellishments scratching your skin as he dipped his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent. As you took a deep breathe, you smelled now leather and pinewood; he took the decency not to use Lucius’ perfume.

He looked at you with blown out eyes, so dark and menacing that they didn’t even look brown. You looked back at him, gaze unfaltering, and studied his features for any remorse. The scar on his cheekbone, the gray and white streaking his dark hair, the way his full lips parted beneath his thick beard. For a second he looked vulnerable, weak to his desires and ambitious. You almost felt pity, before his imposing hand reached for the top of your neckline, and the arms that had fallen to your sides submissively shot up to embrace his warm hands.

“Not the dress, please.”

Your voice was so soft and eyes so pleading he felt his cock stir in his loins, he hesitated, the thought of ripping any trace of Lucius off of you far too tempting. The ring you had placed on your thumb glinted at him, mockingly.

“If I grant you this desire of yours,” He spoke gruffly, as if testing you. “will you do as I please?”

You doubted what he meant, he can’t get worse than what he has already done, you thought. Still, the knot tightened in your throat as you nodded. Humming, he opened the arm that caged you to the room and allowed you to slip out. Carefully you undid the laces, letting the silk spill down your legs. You had turned around to do so, and couldn't muster the strength to turn around once again, couldn't face his hungry eyes.

As if knowing, he stood behind you and you felt the familiar clink as he disrobed himself; it brought tears to your eyes, as if reminding you of what had happened the night before and you found yourself wishing you hadn't spend the day sleeping, perhaps that would have made the day go by slower.

Acacius brought you out of your thoughts by pressing his chest against your back; your nape pressed against the swell of his pecs, his hardening cock resting against your lower back, and his fingers begun tracing a line from your thigh to your hip. You stifled a sob.

"Shhh," He cooed, hand delicate against you. "Come on, little girl, let me take you."

The softness in his voice made you cry harder as he pulled you back onto the couch, laying you down like you were some kind of doll, but you felt more like a corpse.

"You look divine." He muttered under his breathe as his big, thick hand rubbed away any makeup that was applied to cover the marks he had left on your neck and chest. He looked delight by his crime. "Even better."

But you just let tears fall down your temples, ignoring his words and touch. He didn't like him; it irked him, he wanted you to fight, it made things more exciting.

"Just get over with it." You mumbled.

Without another word, he dipped his hand between your thighs, expecting to find resistance but you just hoisted your thighs apart. His eyebrows furrowed, still he begun circling your soft spot. It took little until wetness spread through your lips; you clenched your eyes and thinned your lips, head turning to the side.

A fire settled in your core, traveling from your core to every nerve of your body, forcing you to ball your toes and press your nails against the fabric of the couch. A whimper escaped your lips as he pressed two thick digits into your entrance, pumping them rhythmically. His hand forced your jaw apart, allowing him to hear the sounds coming from your throat as he begun to fasten his pace. Your moans accompanied the in and out of his thick fingers, becoming shorter and breathier and ah ah ah.

You felt the knot tightening, as the night before, core probably more sensitive due to the prior abuse. It was about t snap, and your nails suddenly dug into his bare shoulder before he pulled out his fingers with a sudden wet squelch. You found yourself whining at the loss, and embarrassment rose to your cheeks.

He pried your head to look at him, at his wide open mouth grin. From his elevated position, the hand that was previously on your core wrapped around your wrist, pulling it to his semi hard cock.

"Touch me." He demanded, your knuckles grazing the heat of his manhood. He saw your eyes, the unwillingness as you pursed your lips. "I won't be so gentle if you don't do it."

That made your heart skip a beat, so you extended your fingers and grasped it. It felt heavy and smooth, thumb slipping through a vein as you attempted to reciprocate how he had pumped himself previously. His eyelids fluttered and lips made an "O" shape, and his hands planted by the sides of your head. Once again, he was vulnerable. Thoughts ran through your head, thinking how you could hurt him, pinching his skin, punching his balls, tugging too hard, but it only caused you you tightening your grip, eliciting more moans out of his mouth. To your discontent, such pleasure made him more impatient to bury himself into you, so he batted away your hand to align himself into you.

"Wait!" You cried, palms pushing against his shoulder. Brown fell over you, slightly maddened gaze, a silent threat. "Please, give it a thought."

Brows furrowed over his big eyes, confused by your plea. It was stupid, even for you, to ask such thing from him. Gripping your hip, he began coercing his length into you. You shrieked.

"A thought?" He chuckled, halfway inside. "I have given this so many thoughts; thought about it the very own night Lucius left, thought about it every time you sat your perfect ass on that throne, thought about it every night I heard you little paddling feet waltz around the room; thought about barging in and fucking you still."

He bottomed, making your palms curl against him, clenching into his skin as your cunt did the same thing around his cock. Thighs wrapped around his waist as he filled you up, member hitting a soft spongy spot inside you and balls nestling right on top of your ass. He hissed as you lowly muttered, too much too much too much.

It took a deep breath from him to start thrusting into you, now it was too slow, allowing you to feel as his cock destroyed your swollen walls. He let his weight fall on top of you, cradling your head and slipping his arm around your waist.

"Never thought, though, you'd feel this good."

He panted into your ear like a rabid dog as his pace quickened, making your body follow his thrusts and sliding up and down the couch. The stinging on your core wasn't even pleasant; you felt used.

Was this your fate? to be impregnated and made to push out a heir? if it was, why couldn't it be Lucius? Why couldn't he be the one doing this? why had he postponed this so much? You were far from undesirable...

As if realizing you were escaping away, numbing your feelings, Acacius slowed down. You were surprised when he pulled out of you.

"You are making this hard." He ruffed, a childlike complain.

"I do not wish this." You explained softly.

He lifted himself from the couch, and you felt fear. His bulging muscles tensed at his shoulder blades, and he...bent down to pick his clothes?

You stood still, scared that any movement would call his attention as he left the room.

my genuine question is why is Brock Rumlow so underrated like...that man is delicious and y'all sleeping on him, I swear😭

Sebastian won a Golden Globe. Wow...My little actor that I've been "keeping" in the jewelry box of my heart is now there, among the giants. As a Romanian, that "Romania, te iubesc!" at the end was just...wow. Now I am crying! Congratulations, thank you for bringing us so many beautiful characters, inspiration and smiles. I'll forever love you!

Also, the overly gorgeous Demi Moore won...and Colin Farrel. wow, what a night! I am writing this super sleep deprived and with like...600 calories in my body but damn, am I a happy person!

p.s: wow, my...my eastern european babyboy did it! HE FUCKIN DID IT! He looks SO good as well, like please-

HECK YES! I'LL BE FED! 😫😫😫

Falling from grace

You fall from grace as a group of raiders destroy your lavish community, taking in you as a macabre spoil of war

Warnings: Dark dark topics, noncon, abduction, mentions of killing a whole community, raider! characters, psychological, physical and sexual abuse, sexual slavery

Pairings: Dark! Joel Miller x reader, Dark! Javier Peña x reader, Dark! Marcus Acacius x reader, Dark! Oberyn Martell x reader, Dark! Agent Whiskey x reader, Dark! Dieter Bravo x reader, Dark! Frankie Morales x reader

coming soon!