#(i want her to just be completely unhinged. we MUST go deeper.)

[undefeatablesin]

Dealing with the tail end of another artblock by brainstorming feral Good Hunter Aloysha looks. Because she was not already feral enough for me I guess lmao ✨️

[yuseirra]

I really enjoy drawing them as gods! :) I'll keep drawing this version too while I can (and even after things clear up~)

I jotted about these guys earlier AGAIN and it's so funny, I'll put it in the read more

(was written in another language, translated in bulk by chatgpt~)

I set up my tablet to draw all weekend and started listening to Fatal again.

Seriously, this song… it’s just Kamiki, saying, “I can’t live without Ai~~ I want to see Ai so badly… Without her, I’m really going to die, I feel like I’ll die—what am I supposed to do?” That’s exactly what it sounds like.

It’s like Ai is Ame-no-Uzume, and Kamiki is her husband. He’s like a god who lost his wife and went completely insane. I can’t hear it any other way, seriously. If this isn’t the case, I’d be so disappointed! There’s just no other explanation for all the bizarre situations in the story. Every time I hear this song, I feel like I’m losing my mind because of this interpretation…

This isn’t Aqua. Right now, Aqua let go of his wish for Ai and is sinking deeper as he saves Ruby. No, it’s Kamiki who’s crying about not being able to live without Ai, wanting to see her that badly. What are we supposed to do with him? Why does he love Ai this much? (To be fair, the backstory is there. Watching his character unfold, I thought, "Yeah, it makes sense he’d fall for Ai.” Even before the song and Chapter 154 came out, I was certain of it.) He’s the only character who’d have such a “lack of Ai.” He lost Ai, and now he’s like, “My destiny is to get her back!” I’m sure that’s what’s driving him. He studied science in college, built a company, and went around doing all these things while telling himself, “It’s my fault, my fault,” and witnessing people dying. Seriously… what is this?

And his eyes—I feel they were originally golden, but it feels like something mixed in because of that black star, which changed the color. His eyes look so murky. I don’t think they were meant to be purple. Every other character has clear eyes, but whenever they show his in the anime, his color is cloudy, almost like something else is mixed in.

The Hoshino family’s eye colors connect to their names, but Kamiki’s name means “light,” so why the sudden purple? It could be, but his eyes look so cloudy, and no other character’s eyes have that quality. He’s not in his right mind… he really seems possessed. And why are the lyrics like this? Why do they have this meaning? If this isn’t revealed, I’m going to seek out the author myself. It’s almost funny. This song is just so strange.

It sounds like constant crying—a song of intense longing, he’s losing his mind. Once again, this isn’t Aqua’s emotional arc. Kamiki’s emotions are ten steps deeper than Aqua’s, maybe even more unhinged. He literally seems unable to live without Ai. But this makes sense if they’re a divine couple; they literally can’t function without each other. They need to be together, which even aligns with the things Kamiki says in the story. He was hers and she was his- What is he, really? He isn’t your average person. He’s genuinely strange. What he does is something that can't just be explained with charisma or “because he’s charming.” No, Ai and Kamiki must have originally been gods.

Honestly, Kamiki must be a god who was deeply devoted to his wife, driven to madness because people killed her. That’s why Aqua was assigned to dunk him into the sea to get him… This storyline would make so much more sense if this is it.

Ai must be crying in heaven if she sees what’s become of her husband. It’s so absurdly tragic. I feel like this direction would make more sense. I mean, what kind of story would it be if Kamiki were just “the bad guy”? We already know he was fundamentally a good person. How could an ordinary person even do all these things? I know the setting is modern, with cell phones, electronics, law enforcement, etc. But honestly, people buying into this guy’s ideals to this degree is baffling. He could only pull this off if he were a god.

Fatal… I’m sure I’ve shared my thoughts on this song countless times, but every time I listen to it, I feel like I’m one step closer to understanding its meaning. This song’s emotions are just so Kamiki. If this is Kamiki, though… well, he must really have loved Ai. He’s struggling so much, and you can really feel what it means to not be able to live without someone. He simply can't bear it. That’s how strong his love is.

At this point, can’t we just let him meet Ai again already? He fell apart because he couldn’t see her, even though he wanted to so badly. Was he really at fault for all of this? Is he actually responsible for Ai’s death? I don’t think so… If Ai had been there, he probably wouldn’t have ended up like this.

We need to find out the real reason Ai died, don’t we? This song has to mean something, right? There has to be a reason this song came out. I wouldn’t have started down this path if I didn’t feel I already knew the answer. If I were the author, I’d never make a character who wants to see Ai so desperately into her killer. Maybe Kamiki has some godly power that became unstable out of his anxiety, causing the chain of events that led to her death, but...

Now that we know Ai truly loved Kamiki, I can’t believe he’d even lay a finger on her. It just doesn’t fit his character or story. His behavior shows he isn’t capable of that. This is the same person who couldn’t even retaliate against people who treated him horribly, even those he cared less about than Ai. He was a kind person.

Looking at Kamiki’s consistent behavior, there’s always this gentleness, almost peacefulness. Even if he’s lost it now, that gentleness seems closer to his true nature. I feel like something forced its way into him and twisted him.

The person Ai loved was probably this part of Kamiki, the gentle exterior. If you look at it, it makes sense why she’d fall for him. He’s fundamentally that kind of person, but something happened to him.

I’m rarely wrong about things like this… There aren’t many chapters left now, so if I’m wrong, I’ll just take it as it comes.

Was Kamiki really the kind of person Aqua could treat that way? Honestly, I wasn’t satisfied watching the interactions between Tsukuyomi and Aqua. It didn’t feel good to watch them connect and talk sympathetically. Plus, if it turns out Ai loved someone who was truly insane, that’s another problem.

If Kamiki really did do horrible things, it would make more sense if they were god-level punishments from a god who went insane. If he were just a regular boy who lost it and became a serial killer… what even is that? That would be so disrespectful to people who have similar backgrounds. For a character like this, I feel like there should be a certain amount of care in how he’s handled. Otherwise, I'd really be upset. I’m sure the author understands that.

Anyway… it feels like the answer’s already in the song. Like the answer’s already been given. There aren’t many chapters left, so I guess we’ll find out soon.

[yinyuedijun]

hiiiii i have not read or seen windbreaker my only interactions with it are bc some of my moots r into it now so ive read some fics and i saw tokyo vice on my dash and i was really pulled in by the summary so i read both parts and sincerity and the little prequel piece and oh my god it’s so good. i love the humor, the narrative voice is so witty. suo’s character is so intriguing bc as much as the reader loves and knows him there’s still so much going on that we can only guess at and i felt like that was communicated really well. i enjoyed the fact that sincerity and the prequel let us see their relationship at a different time and how we got to where they are in the present. im really interested in the reader and i felt like u did such a good job of weaving in the comedy to make some of her internal dialogue more lighthearted while still developing her emotional state really well. plus the smut was insane like 11/10 no notes. when the reader said she was excited for pussy inspections >>> like fuck yea me too!!! but anyways i loved the details we learn about her and how her fantasy is have really mundane romantic and vanilla sex. it really speaks to just how fucked up her life has been to the point where her biggest romantic dream is just to have regular sex with the man she loves. like ugh the angst interspersed with the comedy and smut was just chef's kiss. AND THAT ENDING??? WHEN HE THINKS SHE'S ASLEEP. like that did tug at my heartstrings especially when he talked about what their old friends think of him :(( and how if he was a better man he'd let her go. i read another organized crime x civilian fic for a different fandom a few years ago and it ended with the civilian person leaving his partner/his partner letting him go bc the deeper the partner he got into organized crime the more unhinged he became and how his mental state began affecting the civilian. thats a really condensed way of explaining but the events were crazy and it had me crying and screaming every chapter but that's something that ive never seen in other yakuza/gang/organized crime aus so i thought it was really cool to see how that is something that suo thinks about and has to come to terms with now that its been a few years and he can look back at his behavior.

but anyways i really really loved it and im gonna watch/read windbreaker as soon as i can now :)) so thank u for the wonderful fic 🙂‍↕��� and is tokyo vice over? i dont think i saw a completed tag on it on ur masterlist so i wanted to ask if u were leaving the world open

ANONNN I LOVE U SO MUCH TRULY THANK YOU!! 🥹 tokyo vice was an absurd self-indulgent project so I'm so very happy you gave it a shot despite not being into wbk!!! I must confess that it's wildly different from canon LOL but I do adore the canon series nevertheless, and I hope you enjoy it :-) (let us know if you do!!!)

I can't thank you enough for sending such juicy feedback abt tokyo vice, especially about the reader! I did find it somewhat stressful trying to balance the comedy of her narration with the horny and angsty and deranged events of the plot, so I'm glad that you liked that aspect of the fic !!! 🥹 and yeah despite all the comedy, she really is a traumatized meow meow. but it's okay, she can now have the normal sex of her dreams with the love of her life - as long as she can survive 4 months of orgasm denial before their wedding 😭

and LOL I love yandere charas with self-awareness so in general I love writing arcs where they love the reader enough to understand that they should let them go. the plot you're describing is sooooo up my alley and I think suo would absolutely have that thought process if the reader were even remotely mentally normal. unfortunately she is equally insane. I guess that is the tragedy of it for suo - he knows that he can never get better, and he also knows that as long as they are together, she can never get better either. fortunately for him, she could not care less ♥️

I do think tokyo vice is complete, but I do want to finish that sakura wip at some point and also write about suo and mc's sex life after they get together (which is very nasty premaritally and then really vanilla and emotional on their wedding night). I want to finish this kitsune suo pwp first though and finish my ffg commitments too 😭

anyway sorry for yapping so much HAHAH I'm just so happy that you commented on all these aspects of the fic!! thank you for reading and for sending such a wonderful ask 🥺💗

[indigomarina]

Hazbin OC x Canon Week Day 5 - Heartbreak (FrostedApple)

For @hazbinocxcanon

Glacia/Gloria is from this for anyone who wants to see more of her.

This is like an alternate ending to the 'The Show Must Go On' chapter.

Alastor approaches Glacia in the newly rebuilt hotel lobby, a bouquet of blue hydrangeas clutched in his hands. He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. "Ah, Glacia! Just the lady I was hoping to find." Alastor said with his signature smile. "Alastor! What's all this?" Glacia asked, smiling warmly. She gestures to the flowers as Alastor steps closer, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. "These are for you, ma lune. A small token of my affection." Alastor said, he offers her the bouquet, and Glacia's eyes widen as she accepts them, breathing in their sweet scent. "They're beautiful, Alastor, but I don't understa-" Glacia started. Alastor interrupting her gently, "Please, allow me to speak my piece." Glacia falls silent, sensing the weight behind Alastor's words. He takes her hands in his, staring deeply into her eyes. "Glacia, from the moment we met, you've captivated me in a way I never thought possible. Your kindness, your strength, your radiant beauty…they all drew me to you like a moth to an irresistible flame." Alastor confessed. He strokes her cheek tenderly, and Glacia's breath catches in her throat. "At first, I told myself it was simply admiration, a deep respect for the incredible woman you are. But the more time we spent together, the more I realized my feelings ran much deeper than that." Alastor said. Glacia's eyes widen as realization dawns on her face. Alastor smiles softly, his expression full of longing. "I've fallen in love with you, ma lune. Utterly and completely. You've bewitched my heart and soul in a way I never dreamed possible." Alastor said. Glacia's mouth opens, but no words come out. She's stunned into silence, her mind racing as she tries to process Alastor's confession. Unbeknownst to them both, Lucifer has entered the lobby, catching the tail end of Alastor's declaration. His face falls, his heart shattering at the sight of Alastor holding Glacia's hands, bearing his heart to her. "Gloria…no…" Lucifer whispered in anguish. Alastor takes Glacia's silence as an invitation to continue, stepping even closer to her. "Say you'll be mine, ma lune. Let me worship you as you deserve, shower you with the love and adoration befitting a goddess like yourself." Glacia finally finds her voice, but before she can respond, Lucifer turns and flees the lobby, unable to bear witnessing the woman he loves accepting another man's affections. "Lucifer, wait!" Glacia called after him. But he's already gone.

Glacia rushes out of the lobby, dropping the hydrangeas carelessly as she searches frantically for Lucifer. "Lucifer! Lucifer, please wait!" she called some more. She finds him in the hotel gardens, slumped on a stone bench with his head in his hands. His shoulders are shaking with barely restrained sobs. "Luci…" Glacia said softly. Lucifer looks up, his eyes hollow and brimming with unshed tears. He forces a pained smile when he sees her. "Ah, Gloria. I…I'm happy for you, truly. Alastor seems like a fine demon. A bit unhinged, but then again, who am I to judge?" Lucifer asked. He lets out a hollow chuckle, his smile not reaching his eyes. Glacia takes a seat beside him, "Oh, Luci…you've got it all wrong." Glacia said. "Do I? Because it certainly seemed like he was confessing his undying love and you were about to accept." Lucifer said bitterly. Glacia cupped his face tenderly, "Listen to me. The man I've fallen for, the man I love with every fiber of my being…is you, Lucifer. Only you." Glacia confessed. Lucifer's eyes widen in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat. "M-Me? But Alastor…the flowers…" Lucifer stammered. Glacia shook her head, "I was too stunned to respond. Those feelings I may have had for Alastor long ago have faded into something familial. You're the one who holds my heart, Luci. You're the only one I want." Glacia explained. She leans in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, trying to convey every ounce of her love and devotion. Lucifer melts into the kiss, his arms winding around her waist as tears of joy stream down his face. Unbeknownst to them, Alastor has been watching the exchange from the shadows, his ever-present grin now a tight grimace of heartbreak and rage. "So that's how it is, is it? The jaded old king wins your heart yet again." Alastor muttered darkly. His hands clench into fists, the hydrangeas he gifted Glacia now crushed and forgotten on the ground. "Don't worry, my dear Glacia…this isn't over. Not by a long shot. If I can't have your love, then I'll make sure your precious Lucifer suffers for taking it from me." Alastor said. Alastor's eyes burn with vengeful determination as he melts back into the shadows, already plotting his retribution against the king who dared to steal his beloved's heart. Meanwhile, Lucifer and Glacia remain locked in their passionate embrace, oblivious to the darkness brewing or the high price their love may soon demand.

[free-pancakes]

Hänge angry because Levi hides his injuries and when he went to the infirmary they didn't treat him fast because he was so good at hiding it

sorry it took forever!!

warning: very angst with a happy ending

-------

“Wow, look at Hange-san go!”

The newest group of Scouts watched in awe during their first expedition, as newly promoted Squad Leader Hange blasted herself around the forest, slashing up titans left and right. It really was quite impressive. Whispers amongst the Scouts praised her, knowing that her titan kill count would reach a record high.

But it didn’t fool Moblit.

Hange was unhinged, laughing crazily into the wind with each fall of a titan, suppressing how she felt so deeply that she was essentially numb. Moblit noticed how she was careless with the amount of gas she was using, her movements just a little too carefree. It was not the Hange he knew.

Nifa praised Hange and she kept going at it. But Moblit was worried.

He called out to her, telling her to be cognizant of the amount of gas she was using. She gave him a subtle look, and he saw it—an extra tube of gas on her just in case.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and focused more on the titans for the meantime.

The Scouts fought and after sometime, the tides turned unexpectedly. A group of larger titans appeared, and a few of the newer Scouts were...lost. Yells to retreat began and they all started making their way back.

Squads reconvened to make sure all were accounted for.

Hange’s squad gathered, but their eyes widened fear. Moblit felt his heart drop in a panic.

Where was Hange?

The squad made their way back into the forest—Moblit happened to catch the eyes of his closest comrades.

Erwin, Mike, Nanaba watched him pass. They saw a panicked look in his eyes, much more concerning than his usual worried look as Hange’s right hand man. The three nodded at each other, headed back with him, commanding the rest of the Scouts to continue in retreat as they went back to search for Hange.

The group of them sped deeper into the forest, titan steam heading from all directions, several large bodies on the ground. Hange really was impressive, though. She must have taken out almost all of them singlehandedly.

“Looks like she might have taken them all out, I don’t think we should worry!” Nanaba called out, trying to reassure everyone’s trust in Hange.

But Moblit pushed forward faster at the sound of that. He had a horrible feeling churning around in his stomach. Memories of the past week flashed through his mind.

Just one week ago from now, they had gone on an expedition, one that produced more injuries amongst the Scouts than the usual. He and Hange and brought Levi to the infirmary—he seemed okay but Hange wanted to make sure that he got checked out. Erwin had called the two of them to help with some matters in the meantime, so they left Levi, saying they’d find his room and check up on him later.

The tasks took a bit longer than expected, but Hange made sure to come back to check on Levi, and Moblit tagged along. They searched through infirmary rooms, many doubled up with people since so many were injured. But they couldn’t find Levi anywhere. They wandered back into the triage area to find Levi sitting in the same spot they left him in hours ago. Hange smiled and head over to him, but suddenly, Levi’s face turned a ghostly white.

“Levi?” Hange asked.

And Moblit stood, watching Levi fall to the floor, the Hange’s scout hoodie falling from his hands, revealing the other side—sopped with blood.

Moblit stood, dumbstruck as Hange rushed in to help Levi. He must have waited, letting all the younger Scouts get checked and tended to first, likely downplaying his injuries to the infirmary staff. But clearly, he lost a lot of blood.

Moblit watched, ears ringing in worry, so much so that he barely made out Hange’s yelling. She had gone absolutely berserk, clearly in anguish and rage that no one had checked on Levi.

It was all a blur of yelling, Levi being tended to quickly, and Moblit having to hold Hange back from severely injuring anyone within reach.

Levi was in critical state, and Moblit checked on him and Hange everyday. She fell asleep sitting next to Levi’s bed each night, but slept so lightly to make sure he was taken care of properly, that at any time he stirred, she was ready to act. Moblit urged her to rest and that he’d take over watching Levi, but she refused.

Moblit and the rest of them knew how much Levi and Hange cared for each other, but this was the first time any of them saw Hange so outward about his protection, wearing so clearly the fierceness of a mother animal protecting its young from predators. To anyone else, Hange had it together. But Moblit knew she experienced such severe turmoil within. There was a chance Levi wouldn’t survive, and Moblit saw through Hange’s facade, and how much she was collapsing within.

Moblit pressed on hurriedly in the forest, slight relief as he finally found Hange standing over a dead titan. He called out to her and she turned, a blank look in her eyes, sending shivers up Moblit’s spine. He beckoned her to come, but as she blasted up towards him, her gas finally ran out. She hit the ground hard, but quickly began replacing it with the extra tube she had.

But out of nowhere, a large titan hand struck at Hange’s side, knocking the tube out of her hand, rolling away, lost under the foliage of the forest floor. She moved slowly, as if she didn’t care that she’d get grabbed, and just that happened. The titan grabbed Hange and she barely put up a struggle. Moblit dashed forward, Erwin and Mike charging out of nowhere to detach the titan’s hand, Nanaba slashed at the nape, and Moblit grabbed Hange as she fell from the grip of the maimed hand.

Together they rushed out of the forest, and all the way back to the walls. The rest of the Scouts had returned long ago, and they arrived at the wall, the sun already setting in the bright orange sky.

As they set up the horses to be brought up the wall, the group heard a rustle of gear.

Moblit had grabbed Hange by the collar, staring straight into her face, and began yelling.

Hange’s squad, Erwin, Mike, and Nanaba stared, completely shocked to see the normally quiet and hesitant Moblit make such a rash move against his superior, and person he respected the most.

“Moblit!” Nifa yelled, followed by the rest of Hange’s squad to separate the two.

But Erwin and Mike silently held out their arms, stopping them. Whether it was out of curiosity of what would come of the situation, or out of shock at Moblit’s actions, they all stood and watched, figuring Moblit should get to say what he wanted to say.

Hange was just as surprised as the rest of them, warmth slowly returning to her eyes after the cold numbness they all witnessed this whole week.

“Moblit?” Hange let out in a detached, cool tone.

And Moblit yelled.

He yelled and yelled into her face. Bits of the conversation drilling painfully into everyone’s ears as they watched Moblit release a repressed rage onto Hange.

“You can’t just throw your life away like that!” Moblit yelled, his words echoing heavily through the air.

“If Levi dies, do you think you could just choose to die too? Do you really think that would help?!” he yelled, tears welling in his eyes.

“The world doesn’t just revolve around you, Hange! To lose Levi would be horrible, but to then lose you too?!”

Hange stared back at Moblit, and then her eyes wandered to everyone around her. She saw the sadness in everyone else. Moblit yelling at her for the first time, and the tears in everyone else’s eyes was basically a slap to her face.

How could she have been so stupid?

How could she forget that Levi meant something to all of them too? That this week was painful to them as well?

And how could she also forget...that all of them loved her too?

——————

Levi woke up groggily, feeling a warm hand in his. He looked down and as his vision came to focus, he saw Hange holding his hand, her head lying on the bed, clearly deeply asleep. He lifted his hand, carefully moving the messy strands of hair behind her ear.

“Welcome back, Captain.”

He looked up to see Moblit standing at the foot of his bed.

Levi listened to Moblit explain all that had happened, and stared back down at Hange, running his hands through Hange’s hair.

“Thanks, Moblit,” Levi said softly. He couldn’t thank Moblit enough, really.

Moblit carefully scooped up Hange in his arms, and gingerly laid her on the bed next to Levi. She was so tired, she didn’t even stir.

Moblit walked to the door to let himself out. As he turned around to close it, he stole a glance at the two—Levi closed his eyes as he fit Hange’s head perfectly under his chin, hugging her close, holding her like he never wanted to let go.

Moblit felt a sincere smile fall upon his lips, and he closed the door quietly behind him.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 2

The Girls Are Fighting!!!

We return to Aguefort Adventuring Academy where the man himself has just told the Seven Maidens that their party is being split up which they are NOT having even though it doesn’t seem to be a malicious plot so much as the fact that Danielle, Ostentatia, and Zelda are Juniors while the other four are graduating Seniors. Antiope casts Hunter’s Mark on Aguefort, Penny pleads, Katja threatens (well, “threatens”; she walks up menacingly and then says that he can’t do this because it’s the only group of friends she’s ever had and it’s heartbreaking like all of her non-hilarious dialogue is).

Aguefort understands that it sucks and has no respect for rules but says it’s out of his hands. Sam clocks that he’s hiding something (along with the fact that he seems to know about something going on with Antiope and Penny which we know is their respective internship/apprenticeship offers) and calls him out, hitting him with a Lightning Lure to drag his ass back when he tries to turn into a bat and escape out the window. She’s unhinged and I love it. 

So does Aguefort who decides to let them in on some school secrets, leaving a decoy while he leads them all to the super secret part of the forbidden library which is bondage themed because sure. Also, Ostentatia is topless for this also because sure. He does a lot of pomp and circumstance to summon a book which Yelle flatly says better not just be the syllabus and it isn’t but she’s close. It’s the bylaws of the school district which he has summoned for the guidelines on the special, magical thing the girls can get so they can graduate together…

Their GEDS!!!!! Trés mystical. 

Basically what they need to do is complete a level A, B, or C quest together (which Antiope knows are like the top 3 highest difficulty quests--they go from A-F) and get signoff from the superintendent. But the superintendent has been missing for 12 years and there can’t be a new one until she’s dead (which she isn’t or else they’d be able to appoint a new one). Her name is Tectonya Karkovnya (who I will be calling TK) and Aguefort calls her, “chaotic and impossible to predict,” which coming from him is como se dice, troubling. 

Sam pulls out her mirror to do a little snooping on TK’s past and sees that she’s a coppery, earth genasi woman. She also sees her talking to Aguefort and saying that the magic of consciousness is far superior to his beloved chronomancy. Then the scene shifts to show her getting more and more worried as she got deeper into her studies and then going to a dwarven holy site in the Mountains of Chaos with some kind of shadow figure following her. 

Penny gets photos of the super cursed bylaws and Arthur leaves since he very much is the principal of the school and has to do his job (ostensibly). With Aguefort gone, the girls discuss the proposition after conscripting a very reluctant Antiope to be their leader (Aabria hilariously improvises that a shaft of sunlight somehow comes down to illuminate her and she has to step out of the spotlight). 

They discuss whether they want to do this GED quest or not and Zelda says she wants to but she wants to give anyone who has other stuff going on an out so they don’t feel beholden. Ostentatia immediately shoots back that Zelda is just saying that because she has plans with Gorgug. That brings down the mood and Sam, despite being a water genasi, fans the flames by saying that Gorgug has lots going on that doesn’t involve her so she shouldn’t be running back to him all the time. 

Yelle tries to calm things down and says they should sleep on it but Sam and Ostentatia are taking this super personally and are offended that they’re even having this conversation. Penny accidentally lets slip that she has some kind of apprenticeship (she’s trying to keep it on the DL because it’s supposed to be a secret) and oh man it becomes a Whole Thing. They fight in the way that you do when everyone in the fight actually wants the same thing and cares deeply about each other but are in completely different headspaces which are making them lash out.

Penny, not wanting to be around the conflict, goes invisible. Zelda is suppressing going into a rage and says that maybe she should go be with Gorgug. At least he won’t yell at her. Yelle once again tries to cool things down and suggests they have a text thread where they can say if they’re in or out by the end of the night instead of hashing it out in the open. She’s accused of not being in and, in response, texts that she’s in. Ostentatia and Sam also immediately text that they’re in, which basically makes her “solution” entirely moot. 

Zelda is finally fully fed up and leaves (Penny following invisibly). Katja also follows. 

Antiope can tell that Sam is upset about something that’s not this but Sam brushes her off rudely and storms off (quite literally, causing storm clouds outside in her wake). Yelle goes after her. Ostentatia is left with Antiope.

Time for a string of very emotional mini scenes which I highly encourage you to watch because they are peak improv.  

Zelda, Katja, (Invisible) Penny

Katja runs to find Zelda who is under a tree crying and asks if she’s OK. Zelda says that Sam and Ostentatia are so beautiful and confident and eloquent and she gets so tongue tied and useless when they disagree with her because she’s so timid. Zelda wants this so bad but she doesn’t want to feel like she’s forcing her friends to stay with her. 

Katja, as we know, has major abandonment issues because of her constantly away dad (and prob her mom too) and she doesn’t want to be left behind again but she also doesn’t want her friends to factor her in so she tries to be stoic and says that the people you love have to want to stay. But with a 3, Zelda immediately clocks the emotion behind the words. Instead of calling her out, Zelda offers to listen to music with her. 

Penny takes this opportunity to make herself known (which has got to be terrifying--unless you’re used to it and then it’s like same shit as usual from Ms. Luckstone) and Zelda goat jumps to grab her out of the tree she was crying in above them and tells her that she doesn’t have to go invisible every time there’s conflict. They all agree that they hate confrontation and Rehka gets the funniest lowkey line of the episodes: that she wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t agree on that. We then cut to…

Ostentatia and Antiope

Where Izzy gets the high key funniest moment of the episode by transitioning in with a big, “You know I LOVE confrontation,” which breaks everyone at the table. But she says it as a preface to admitting that she may have been a bit of a bitch to Zelda. She plays coy for like a half second before she breaks down sobbing with Antiope catching her before she sinks fully to the floor. Antiope comforts her and admits that while she wants to stay with the party, she hates having options taken away from her as they have been her whole life effectively. She was honestly kind of relieved when she was trapped in the crystal because it meant all that pressure was gone for a bit. They affirm that they love each other then Ostentatia goes to apologize to Zelda. 

Danielle and Sam

Yelle goes to talk to Sam (who she adorably calls “merbae”) and while Sam doesn’t wanna talk about it, Yelle says they don’t have to. She just wants to be there for her in whatever capacity she needs. She knows Sam loves her friends and would never hurt them on purpose so something must be wrong with her-- “History of abandonment?” Sam finishes, almost glibly. She’s tired of losing people. She doesn’t want to lose more. She doesn’t want things to change. Nature is change, Yelle says. Nature sucks, Sam says. Yelle is gonna pretend like she didn't hear that. 

Sam feels bad that she snapped at Zelda and Yelle says that they’re all a family. Things will be alright. The storm clouds that Sam reflexively summoned peter out into a cool, refreshing mist. 

Ostentatia and Zelda

Ostentatia goes to where Zelda and the girls are and full ass runs at her like they weren’t just fighting. After assuring her that she’s not there to fight she apologizes, saying she was a cow. Zelda says she honestly agrees with Ostentatia that she wants the group to stay together and wishes she could be bolder in non-rage settings. Ostentatia says that maybe if the Seniors leave they can still have a party and Penny vetos that even though, as Ostentatia says, it’s a pretty reasonable compromise. Anyway, they basically all go in a circle saying they love each other and it’s very sweet. 

I’m serious, I can’t do these heart to hearts justice in this format, just go watch them for that emotional girl group goodness.

Anyway, outside of the main group, Antiope goes to talk to her sister Corsica who is currently teaching a class. Antiope does not give AF. She orders the students out and they scatter. Wouldn’t you?

Antiope wants advice. Should she stay with her party after flaming out of her last one? Should she take the internship and stay on the path her parents want her on? Corsica really feels for her. Antiope has had to struggle in a way that she and their brothers never did. She finally answers that she and her brothers are awesome and successful fighters but none of them have been able to do the scariest thing possible: disappoint their parents. They’re soldiers. They like it that way. They fall in line. But maybe Antiope isn’t a soldier. Maybe she’s a leader. She ordered those kids out of the room without thinking after all and they obeyed. It’s an extremely good speech and Antiope basically has chills, as do I.  

I assume while this is happening or perhaps right before everyone goes home, Penny goes to see Jawbone (who has some spiffy new art--as did Gilear who cameoed early in the episode when Aguefort atomic wedgied him invisibly because sure) and talk about this uber difficult decision she had to make. Jawbone gets to the heart of the matter pretty quick. Penny is a high achiever who’s lived a life without choice. But now that she’s about to be off the rails for the time she’s freaking out. Penny sees the truth in the statement (after hilariously trying to solve his metaphor about an amusement park) and thanks him for the perspective. She then, in a very Fig move, tries to kiss him and Jawbone basically stiff arms her and breezes right past like it didn’t happen, showing her out. What a trooper that Jawbone.   

Moving on to Katja. When she gets home she tries to call her dad who is unreachable on his hell mission. She leaves him a message saying that he should call her back when he can and she knows what she wants for her graduation present now. She wants her party to not break up. This breaks Brennan and me. 

She then snoops arounds for info on TK. She sees letters of her dad trying to get her into Hudol. And she sees some stuff from the Ministry of Adventure, asking if he knew where TK was. But she doesn’t get anything else. At least, she doesn’t get anything else that’s helpful. She does however find a picture of her mom which makes her bolt to go talk to Cinnamon who prances for her to make her feel better. She joins in dancing, badly.

EDIT: I initially wrote that Katja’s mom was dead because that’s what I thought she said but @ennn said that in the Adventuring Party, Rekha said that her mom didn’t die, she left. Which is less dramatic in some ways but SO MUCH WORSE for abandonment issues so, yikes girl!

Yelle meanwhile goes home to talk to her unofficial third mom, Holly, who is the awakened tree under which her house is. Picture a Grandmother Willow situation from Pocahantas basically. Yelle talks about the conflict a bit and, as usual, ends up on a tangent about how the world is unfair and she has to speak for the voiceless. Holly is concerned for her (as are her other moms which I may have neglected to mention in the last recap). She asks Yelle if she can tell her something that might be painful. Yelle agrees. Holly says that Yelle is great and wonderful and kind but she spends so much time speaking for other people that she never speaks for herself. Her moms worry that there will come a day when she needs help and will have to ask for it without couching it in terms of the greater good and she won’t be able to. 

Yelle really hopes she’s high when the time comes. 

At her home, Ostentatia casts Commune With The City to see if TK has been around and she’s not there now but she can tell she has been (though there’s no indication on if that’s recently or not). On a 17 religion check she knows that there is a dwarven holy site in the mountains that matches Sam’s description from the mirror. She’s still avoiding her dad but when she prays for her spells, she asks for her dad to feel like himself again too. 

Hey, what time is it? Let me check my watch. 

Ah yes, it’s time for Sam to make some rash decisions. 

She feels like she should text Zelda but doesn’t. Instead, she goes into Penelope’s room. And she takes out her mirror. And even though she’s expended the charge for today, she tries to make it show her Penelope. 

OK, says Brennan. Sure. Hey, can you roll me a quick little Wisdom Save?

5. 

Haha, Sam’s in danger. 

The mirror heats up as it’s pushed beyond its limits and Sam sees an image of a young Penelope with braces grabbing her hands and grinning and saying that they’ll be best friends. Then, the image shifts and she sees the Penelope of the present in her tattered prom queen dress and glass shard crown. Her eyeless, haunting, demon prom queen form, teeth razor sharp as her words. 

“A call without a text,” she says. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You look better than you ever did alive,” Sam spits back. 

It is a battle of the bitches right out of the gate. The girls are fighting part two if you will. They snipe at each other for a bit and Brennan has Sam roll insight into herself. On a 19, Sephie says that’s not enough for Sam to get a read on herself (yikes girl) so she doesn’t understand that this fight can only ruin her because while Penelope enjoys causing people pain, Sam doesn’t. 

They both get in some very choice barbs but when Penelope tries to entice her into making a devilish pact and disparages her new party, Sam does the mic drop of the century by telling her that her parents are divorcing and hanging up. The entire table LOSES THEIR MIND. It is like a real life representation of one of those Draw The Squad memes. Everyone brandishes their fans in a salute to that truly epic conversation ender. 

As the night draws to a close, Brennan asks the girls who haven’t responded to the text chain yet if they respond. Katja texts that she’s in. Zelda texts Antiope and Penny that she’s not going to text whether she’s in or out until they respond because she doesn’t want it to feel like a 5 on 2 dogpile.

Antiope and Penny call then text, then call, then text, then call each other to discuss what they should do and also hype each other up because with all the drama, they didn’t really get to celebrate their opportunities. Penny tries to downplay her thing and insinuates that it wouldn’t be a big loss if she wasn’t in the group anymore and Antiope shuts that down immediately. You’re the last thing so many people see before they die Penny! That’s so cool! 

They both decide to text that they’re abstaining from voting for now and go to bed.

The next day, Antiope gets up and sees that her party’s schedule has been cleared for the next two weeks by the school for quest reasons. She tells her dad she wants to talk to Charity Blythe (the woman at the Ministry of Adventure she needs to talk do) and he sets up a no pressure (but actually tons of pressure) meeting with her before turning her 5 mile run into a 12 mile run because she is a Jones and 5 mile runs are for Amateurs. 

Ant texts the rest of the Maidens that this meeting is happening so they can maybe get some quest info from Charity and Ostentatia has in the meantime texted (after the 2 abstains) that she will be going for the GED regardless and anyone who wants to join can. Of course, there was never any reason to NOT go for it (besides the danger which they obv don’t care about) and getting it doesn’t mean any doors are closed to them. It’s just that emotions are running so high they can’t fully seem to see that (or at least some members can’t). 

Ant doesn’t have the clearance to meet at Charity’s office so they meet at the Museum of Adventuring instead. In it happens to be the skeleton of Kalvaxus who they killed (if you don’t remember, the Bad Kids killed him first and then he was resurrected so the Maidens could also kill him for catharsis reasons). Tensions are still super high as evidenced by Sam’s snide abstention comment to Penny and Ant and then by her TRYING TO LIGHTNING BOLT THE DRAGON SKELETON TO DESTROY IT.

GIRL.

That doesn't happen though because she’s Counterspelled by Charity Blythe who walks in, surprised to see that Antiope brought her whole party. Antiope says they were just leaving but Charity can sense shenanigans when she sees them and says if they’re gonna spy on the conversation they might as well stay for it which they of course do.

She gives Antiope a rundown of the internship: 1 year commitment with a possibility to expand to 2-3 years. Stipend. She’d have to live in Bastion City.

Katja remembers that her dad was talking to the Ministry of Adventure in the letters she found and asks Charity about it. Charity says they were asking him about TK’s whereabouts because he was friends with her. On that, Yelle casts Detect Thoughts with a Stealth roll of 17 (we see on a secret Box of Doom roll that Charity got a 26 to see her cast it). Anyway, she sees that TK took some object with her when she disappeared (which she later sees is a crystal screen with a map seemingly marking quest locations from A-F) and of course the fact that Charity knows this. Yelle shares this info with everyone as Antiope walks off with Charity to talk further. Katja suggests to the group that maybe Ant should take the internship to get more info for their quest. While she’s talking to Charity, Ant feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

See looks up and sees a figure with blood red lips look at her and disappear.

Yikes! Combat time baybee!

Superlatives 

Danielle: Most Likely to Talk Her Way Out of a Hostage Situation 

While, like her mothers, I am slightly concerned that Danielle is the type to set fire to herself to make sure others are warm, I also very much love her chill, warm, encouraging vibes. For those of you coming off of MisMag, she is like vibing at the same wavelength as Whitney Jammer but with the intensity turned all the way down. Danielle encouraging Sam honestly gave me like second hand calm. Excellent vibes. 

Random Thoughts

If you’re wondering how long it took for it to come up that Aguefort banged a phoenix, the answer is 12 minutes.

The concept of phoenix chlamydia is the definition of thanks, I hate it. 

Aguefort saying that TK is a crazy person could literally mean anything tbh. It could mean she is the most batshit person on the planet or it could mean she’s totally normal and just kinda bugs him. Literally no way to tell. 

Someone (I think Rekha?) mentioned that the cursed bylaws book is copper and so is TK. Idk if that’s relevant but thought I’d flag it anyway. 

We learn in this episode that the friendship bracelets Penny made them last week let them track each other and see each other even if one of the in knocked out (which is what gives it utility outside of what their crystals can already do).

We learn in this episode that Skullcleaver Elementary School is actually named after Katja’s family. 

Nothing like the fear you feel when a DM gives you what you wanted even on a failure. And on that note...

Sam, I wish you a very happy Please Go To Therapy. Please girl. 

This episode was such an emotional roller coaster. I deeply empathize with the horrible feeling that your friends have stuff going on and you don’t and you’re going to be left behind. It’s so rough to see everyone hurting and lashing out (or in the case of Yelle for instance, trying and failing to diffuse the situation). But it’s so nice to see everyone trying to be there for each other and apologizing and affirming that they love each other (from Antiope saying that she would kill and die for any of them to Danielle defusing the ticking timebomb that is Sam). The players really get the cadence of how teenage girl friendship works and it’s such a treat to watch. 

“Did we ruin your life?”

Do you think ep 7 of The Seven is gonna be when everything pops off? As a DM I wouldn’t be able to resist that.

Penny’s response to being told that she can’t take every path is, “You can with chronomancy” which isn’t a bad point. 

Rekha is the Zac of The Seven which is to say low key the funniest person on the planet. Her saying she was so scared that she wasn’t gonna be told “I love you” during that scene was so funny. Her comic timing is impeccable. 

Katja fainting at the end of the “I love you” session after Penny says she loves her and Cinnamon. 

I love the table ambient whisper of, “LCAB” under Antiope’s scene with Corsica. 

I really felt for Zelda in this episode. Like, I felt for everyone but especially her, being the quiet one with all this yelling happening. When she was talking about how much she hates to have to fight with Sam/O my heart really broke for her. I’m so glad she got all her hugs in after that. 

In this episode Katja, Ostentatia, and Sam roll nat 1s. No nat 20s.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silent Night

Based on this: “You aren’t a big fan of Christmas and just want to get out of the city and away from the hustle and bustle. However the one and only Captain America has had his eyes on you and wants to spend a perfect Christmas with you whether you like it or not."requested by anonymous.

Warnings: noncon sex (fingering, intercourse)

Note: Okay, so I’ll be working on holiday drabbles over the next few days.  Hopefully one or two a day if I can manage! Thanks for all the requests so far and I’m working at keeping up.

Hope y’all enjoy. Like and/or reblog!! <3 Reblogs really help especially since I haven’t been getting many.

A quiet Christmas. A once in a lifetime occasion. Convincing your parents to let you skip the family dinner had been a task in itself, only exchangeable for your labour. The old cabin your aunt hadn’t visited since her fall down the stairs a year ago was far away that it guaranteed a holiday undisturbed. A favour, you negotiated, a gift for your aunt who would soon be in shape to once more respite to the northern forests. The place must be dusty, it would need a cleaning before that. Your selfish reclusivity disguised as generosity.

More difficult had been your departure from work for the two weeks that encapsulated both Christmas and New Years Eve. Stark was the festive sort and Nat was the talkative sort. She’d let slip just as you informed your boss you’d be away and unable to attend his respective holiday parties that you hated the time of year. You cringed and it told Tony all he needed to know. But, begrudging and with a vow you’d attend the next year, he approved the time away. You scowled at Nat and promised her payback.

The drive was peaceful. The further you drove along the single lane highway, the deeper the snows grew, the quieter the air. You thought of how nice it would be to be alone. Somewhere where even the howls of wolves were muted in the sheets of snow, completely serene. 

Not hiding in the corner of the room as others drank and made merry in the false spirit of the season. Not putting on a smile to assuage propriety. Not lying about your plans for the days of cheer. Only you and nature and silence. Well, maybe some non-Christmassy music too.

Then your mind strayed. You had tried to be covert. Tried not to let on your pending absence. FOMA was not an emotion for you, in fact you feared having to partake. You made Nat swear not to tell anyone else; not to let Wanda know until it was too late, not to goad Pepper into her nagging, not to allude to Peter that his “second aunt” would be miles away. 

It had almost gone to plan. You woke up early to leave. You lifted your bag, afraid the wheels would give away your escape. You crept to the elevator but when the doors opened, Steve was there. He didn’t miss the guilty frown or the suitcase. He stayed on the elevator, though he’d only just taken it up, and made the descent with you.

“You’re leaving us?” He wondered. “Without a goodbye?”

“I’ll be back. I just didn’t want a whole...thing,” You gripped your suitcase and his hand settled next to yours.

“Let me help you with your bag at least,” He offered. “A Christmas present since you won’t get mine until you return.”

“Present? You didn’t have to--don’t have to--”

“What is it? You hate us, don’t you? Just put up with us for the paycheck?” He kidded.

“Steve,” You rebuked and he subtly tugged the bag away from you. “You know that’s not it.”

“Family?” He asked.

“Well...not exactly.” You admitted as the doors opened and he waved you out ahead of him.

“Not exactly?”

“I’m doing a favour for my aunt. Cleaning out her old summer cabin.” You explained as he followed you across the lobby. “A nice solitary reprieve.”

“Oh, are we that chaotic?”

“Not what I meant,” You grumbled as you passed into the parking garage. “Really. I’ll see you after when the city isn’t so...shiny.”

“Alright.” He wheeled your bag to your car as you popped the trunk. “But I don’t think you realize how much we’ll miss you.”

“You’ll survive,” You scoffed as he lifted your suitcase into the car. 

“Mmhmm,” He nodded and you closed the trunk.

“Don’t,” You warned him. “I already got the guilt trip from Tony. You’re better than him.”

“Sure I am,” He shrugged and you shook your head. 

“Alright, enough. I gotta go.”

Your farewell was more than that. Steve was persistent, as always. You’d finally managed to get a final goodbye as you were halfway in the car and he blocked you from closing the door. Maybe he didn’t realize how often he was in your way. How often he was at your desk gabbing away as you tried to concentrate on Tony’s chicken scratch or how he always found you on your lunch and kept you from listening to the latest episode of that one podcast. Maybe he didn’t, or maybe he did. Maybe the golden boy was a bit more tarnished than he let on. Or maybe he was as oblivious as he seemed.

You tore your mind back to the road. To the dull lights that shone in your rear view. When had they shown up? You were the only car for the last little stretch, not many ventured into this area later than September. You squinted at the car, the specks of snow obscuring it enough to be just discernible, and looked back to the road ahead. 

You were almost there, hopefully before the snow made the way impassable. Before you were forced to park your car in the forest and trek the rest on foot. You’d done it once before, but without the feet of snow to slow you. You wondered if you’d even make it should it come to that.

You made it though. The headlights disappeared from your mind and when you turned off they passed smoothly. You continued up the winding path, just wide enough for your car. Slow, steady, safe. When you pulled up to the side of the cabin you sighed. You’d have to shovel your way in, and maybe out when all was said and done.

You awkwardly pulled on your snow pants in the cramped interior of your car. You hit your head and elbows several times before you were left out of breath but protected. You had to push your way through the snow and into the garage. The shovel was covered in frozen cobwebs, the dusty and undisturbed space smelled like snow and isolation.

You grabbed the shovel and turned back. The snow continued to fall, adding to your chore. A few paths, to the door, to the car, around the back. It’d tire you out and see you til the morning when the real work began.

-

Your first day was spent dusty and wiping down the tables and walls. The work carried over into the second when at last you managed to sit still for more than a couple minutes. There was wood left in the shed but you were nervous you’d be out in the drifts, almost taller than yourself now, chopping more. You didn’t use much in the summertime when it was reserved for evening fires. Now it was shoved in the stove to heat the front room where you huddled under a blanket and shivered.

The generator powered the 70s style fridge but little else. You were left to flashlights and even an old oil lamp your aunt had bought at a yard sale. It was close to evening, the sky a pale blue threatening to turn pitch black. You sat with a book open in front of you, the words bolder in the reserved quiet of the cabin.

Your cell held the pages down, lifeless and without signal. Your mom couldn’t remind you of your desertion, Tony couldn’t try to guilt you, Nat couldn’t send those weird memes that were frighteningly dark. You were entirely unbothered by the winter owls and the distant snowy creatures of the trees. Christmas Eve had never been so perfect.

The date was in the back of your mind. You’d barely take note of it if it wasn’t on the lock screen. You moved to the sofa and reclined to read another chapter, yawning and curling into a ball. You’d been sleeping there to stay close to the stove and feed it in the early hours to keep it from dying. 

Another half chapter and your eyes were closing against your will. You closed the book around your phone and set it on the floor beside the couch. You pulled the blanket to your chin and clicked off the flashlight. You nestled into the cushions, the fire crackling and coaxing you deeper. You fell asleep, a slumber unusually rapt on the night before Christmas.

You didn’t wake to stoke the fire though, not that you realized in your sleep. Undisturbed, unworried. Until you did wake and not of your own accord.

The old cabin was known for its creaks and cracks. First built in the thirties and renovated in the seventies, it was expected. But this wasn’t a groan of aged wood, or the wind battering the old shingles, it was a footstep, and then another, and another. Soft against the hardwood, the clink of dishes, the sound of living.

Your eyes opened and you saw the stove glowing amber; finely stocked and burning boldly. Your heart seized and you sat up so suddenly you had to keep yourself from toppling to the thin carpet below. Surely a bear wouldn’t be so tactful, so careful.

You turned and looked into the kitchen. You recognized the golden head, the broad shoulders as the intruder stood at the kitchen stove. The smell of pancakes filled the cabin and you shivered as the blanket fell from your shoulders. You stood but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You tiptoed to the fireplace and grabbed a log from the stack. Surely a meagre weapon against him but what the fuck was he doing here? Steve Rogers in your aunt’s cabin, uninvited and quite possibly, unhinged.

You neared the door of the kitchen and he turned back to you. You held the log at the ready to swing. He held a spatula and was entirely unfazed by your fearful approach.

“Did I wake you?” He asked as if all was as it should be.

“What--What the hell are you doing here?” You clung to the log as he stepped closer.

“You can’t spend Christmas alone,” He said coolly. “I couldn’t let you.”

“Better yet, h-how did you even--did you follow me here?” You pointed the log at him as he tried to step closer. “No. Don’t. Steve, this is weird.”

“It’s dangerous here. All the snow. Out here alone. You need someone.” He replied as he turned back and flipped the pancakes. “Go on and grab a plate, these are almost done.”

You flinched. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the Steve you knew. Well, it was in that he was sweetly making you breakfast but he was also intruding on your privacy. You stepped closer with the log and poked him. 

“Steve, you need to go,” You said. “Now.”

“Now that’s not very grateful, is it?” He ignored the log and went to the cupboard. He pulled out two plates onto the counter and switched off the stove. He piled the flapjacks on them and went to the fridge to find the syrup. “I’ve come here to keep you company, to keep you safe, and I’ve even made you breakfast.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” You kept the wood in front of you as he opened the silver drawer. “You’re really freaking me out.”

“And you want me to go out? Into the storm?” He nodded to the window, white with the whirl of the blizzard just outside. “I barely made it here.”

“Steve,” You whined. “Steve, stop.” You jabbed him harder with the log. He dropped the cutlery on the counter and turned to you slowly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing is--” He grabbed the log and wrenched it from your grip. “Wrong with me.” He broke it in half easily and dropped it. “What is wrong with you?”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You insisted as you backed away.

“Will you just sit down and eat your breakfast?”

“I don’t want to. I want you to go.” You said.

“Jesus,” He breathed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “You always do this. You’re such a little tease.”

“What are you talking about?” You felt around as you passed through the doorway backward and he neared slowly.

“I might be born last century but I’m not stupid,” He said. “Your blouses, that smile, the way you chew on your pen when we talk, that fake laugh you put on.”

“Steve, you’re wrong, I never--”

“I just want you to have a Christmas to remember. For us to make our first Christmas special.”

You gulped and peered around. You looked back to him and lunged for the poker leaned against the wall. He grabbed it before you and tossed it away just as he pulled you back. He spun you around and threw you against the sofa. You fell onto it with a painful bounce and tried to push yourself back up. He was on you in and instant.

“Steve!” You yelped. “Steve, please stop!”

You beat on his chest as he wrestled with you. You had to be dreaming. This was some sick nightmare. He was so strong, so decisive. You tried to wake up, hit him hoping you would suddenly jolt up and find the cabin empty, but your eyes were already open and this was just as real as it felt.

He soon had you beneath him, straddled and squirming as he held your hands beside your head. You kicked your legs helplessly and he squeezed your hips between his thick thighs. His blue eyes were dilated and sinister as he pinned you down.

“Shhh, calm down. Please,” He tried to soothe you. “Honey, you can’t open your presents if you’re bad.”

“Honey? Don’t call me honey!” You spat. “Get off of me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said. “Please, don’t make me.”

You stilled suddenly. You stared up at him, shocked. Was that a threat? From Steve Rogers? Well, he was on top of you and you felt the twitch in his jeans as he stared down at you.

“You wouldn’t,” You gasped.

“Only if you make me,” His voice was low and grimy. “Don’t make me.”

“Steve,” You pleaded in a whisper. “Please,” You tried to move and barely jostled him. “Let me go.”

He closed his eyes and huffed. He lowered his head and squeezed your wrists. He was angry, frustrated. You were terrified.

“You’ve already let our breakfast go cold,” His words were measured though his tone trembled. “You better start listening, honey, or you’ll ruin the whole day for us.”

“Steve, please…”

“Don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No. Don’t make me.”

“Steve, please, you’re scaring me.”

He let go of your wrists and for a moment, you thought he would get off of you. But he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed the neck of your loose sweatshirt and the tear of fabric was like a crack of lightning. The thin tank top beneath showed your nipples, hard from chill air, and he ripped it just as swiftly.

“No,” You tried to bat his hands away, tried to keep them from your bare chest. 

He pushed past your struggles and ground his pelvis into you. “You have to be good.” He hissed. “Or I’ll be bad.”

“Stop,” You sobbed. “Steve.”

You tried to shove him away but he didn’t relent. He bent over you, sliding back just slightly. He held your chin in his large hand as his other tweaked your nippled painfully. “Shhh,” He pressed his lips to yours and muffled your pleas. 

His hand continued to toy with you, kneading and pinching painfully. He groaned into your mouth and rocked his hips against you. His hand moved lower as his other threatened to break your jaw. You were forced to open your mouth and he quickly devoured you.

He tugged at the elastic of your sweatpants, hooked his fingers under your cotton panties as he pulled them lower. You reached down to keep them at your waist but he yanked them sharply from your grasp. He lifted his pelvis as he edge them down your thighs.  

He withdrew from your lip and held you down with a hand on your chest as his other worked at your pants. You grabbed his wrist, unable to budge him as your pants reached your knees. He got to his knees and you wriggled to get away. 

He caught you and pulled your legs out from beneath him. He leaned them against his torso, your feet at his shoulders. He pressed his thighs around your ass as he reached down between your legs. You squirmed and pushed at his hand. Kicked your tangled legs against him. He grabbed your ankles in one hand and held them to his left shoulder.

He shoved his fingers between your thighs and forced them between your folds. He shuddered and pulled his hand away. Your eyes widened, hopeful again. You tried to move your legs but he kept them firm against him. You looked down as he unbuttoned his fly.

“Steve.” You begged. “Steve, I’ll be good.”

“Too late,” He warned. “All you had to do was listen, honey. But you wouldn’t.”

You wheezed as he unzipped his jeans and you looked away as he revealed the head of his swollen cock. You felt him pull himself out entirely and you closed your eyes. You reached down to shove him away with just your fingertips. He ignored you, if he noticed your pathetic resistance at all.

He moved your legs. Pulled them as wide as they would go still caught in your sweats. Not much but enough. He held your left knee and guided himself along your most tender spot. You tried again to draw away but he had you trapped. He leaned over you, bending your legs just slightly as he rubbed his tip against your pussy.

He pushed inside just a little. You were too tight and too dry. You exclaimed and he pulled out. He sighed and you opened your eyes to watch him lick his fingers. You grunted desperately. “Please, don’t.”

He rubbed his slick fingers along you, wetted them again and forced them inside of you. He pressed his thumb to your clit and your body stiffened. Despite your fear, your body responded. He licked his fingers a third time, to taste, to add a little more, and shoved them even deeper.

He played with you a bit and then pulled his fingers out to spread your juices along his cock. He pressed his tip to you again, this time he slid in easily but not painlessly. He didn’t ease himself in. He pushed himself to his limit and past yours and you cried out.

“Ow! Ow! Steve, it hurts. Get off! You’re hurting me, please!”

“I told you,” He thrust once, sharply. “To be good.” He thrust again and you writhed in agony.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to hold back your yelps. He rocked against you steadily, each time you winced at the strain. His hands went to your thighs as he brought himself as deep as he could go. He leaned over you, your back curved as he curled your body beneath him. 

He planted his hands beside you as he raised himself over you. He lifted his pelvis and slammed it down, each time adding to the reverberations along your spine. He hammered you into the cushions as you whined. He watched your face as he worked against you, his pupils dark and wide. You grabbed his biceps and dug your nails into his skin.

“It really h--” Your breath caught. Surprised by the sudden tickle that crested the pain. “St-op...It--no.”

You covered your face with your hands as the coil wound tighter. You were ashamed and shocked at your response. The suddenness of the rise. The sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you added to the heat. Filled your head lewdly and carried you higher. You grunted as you were drawn thin and then the release washed over you.

He kept a hand beside you and pulled away your hands as you came. You closed your eyes and he carried on. Never wavered, only sped up. Didn’t let up as he chased another hill and you were forced over the edge again. You could feel his eyes on you, could feel his pleasure at stealing yours.

His groans grew louder and mingled with the sound of his body against yours. They sickening symphony reached its climax and you felt his release. Felt the gush within you as his hips jerked wildly. He emptied in himself inside you. Let forth all that he’d repressed. Anger, longing, resent; every ounce of it spilled out. He was left panting and weak, crushing your legs beneath him as he barely kept himself from slumping over you entirely.

He pushed himself back onto his knees. He pulled out and let your legs fall. Your body twisted as your knees hinged over the edge of the couch. You were shaking as you pulled your sweatshirt over your chest and his large hand settled on your ass. He caressed you, as if he cared, as if he had been sweet.

“We should eat,” He said as he drew away. The couch shifted as he stood and you heard his zipper. “Then we can start opening presents.”

[ymiwritesstuff]

Decaying Promise

So I replayed Three Houses and fell in love with Dimitri once again so I wanted to write this piece. I haven’t been feeling well lately and the lack of sleep may affect this scenario, apologies for that, but I hope you enjoy.

Fire Emblem Three Houses

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd x Fem!Reader

Summary: A promise made years ago keeps Dimitri somewhat hopeful, despite the screams of his loved ones tormenting him internally.

Notes: Angst, SPOILERS FOR THE BLUE LIONS ROUTE!!

The greenhouse of the monastery bathed in the afternoon sun, the plants and flowers enjoying the blessing they received while surrounded by the light. You found yourself enjoying the warmth the sun provided as you kneeled in front of a certain flower, having just arrived in the greenhouse. Your (E/C) eyes lit up in sheer amazement as you notice that the beautiful white flower in front of you is blooming, having completed its growing process. 

You bring your fingers to the petals, desiring to feel the velvety surface and take in the flower’s delicacy. It practically glittered under the light of the sun and just like you had read, it had a stunning iridescent glow that made it look as if someone had put a spell on it.

“That’s quite beautiful.”

The voice beside you belonged to a person you didn’t even hear or notice coming, which caused you to quickly turn your head towards them, only to notice the Prince himself, carefully looking at the flower you had picked up.

“Dimitri!” You exclaim, placing a hand on your chest and standing up, slightly startled at his sudden appearance. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this!” Despite your words being anything but rude in nature, the young Prince’s eyes still receive an apologetic glint as he humbly bows. Polite as always. “My apologies. It was not my intention. I simply saw you running here quite enthusiastically and curiosity got the best of me.”

You look at the flower in your and bring it up, desiring to show Dimitri its beauty. “Oh, I was just checking if this flower started to bloom. And as you can see,” You bring your hand closer to him, in order for him to witness the sight before him. “It’s blooming rather beautifully.” A gentle smile decorates your features and a sense of pride latches itself onto you. Usually, gardening was done by more capable people like Dedue and the Professor, and you didn’t have too much experience in the craft, so it was very rewarding to see this special flower bloom under the rays of the sun.

“I must agree, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flower like this.” Dimitri’s blue eyes carefully examine the plant before him, intrigued by its abnormal appearance and seemingly otherworldly exterior qualities. Though he’d rather not hold flowers in his own hand, fearing they would just fall apart due to his inability to control his own strength, he appreciated their bloom and was more than happy to look at them.

“It’s called Sothis’s Lily. It is said that it was the first flower the Goddess created. Well, according to some legend I don’t know much about.” Stories about the Goddess didn’t grasp your interest too much, as to you they seemed quite silly at times. Still, you couldn’t deny the fact that the flower currently in your hand looked resplendent and special. 

“I see. Well, it certainly looks extraordinary. It wouldn’t surprise me too much if there was some divine power embedded in it,” He says, a slight hint of playfulness and rare sarcasm you didn’t often hear apparent in his pleasant voice. A small chuckle escapes your lips.

“Perhaps. All I can say for sure is that this particular flower is excruciatingly difficult to grow. It’s a miracle we’re even witnessing it in this state!” Having read about this rare flora, you knew the challenges of attempting to grow it the moment you placed the seeds beneath the dirt, and seeing it in front of you, in full bloom, made you happier than ever.

“However apparently, this flower can stay in this prime state for at least five years! Can you believe it?” Dimitri’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mixture of shock and amazement hitting him. It was no surprise to anyone that flowers generally withered away in a matter of days, so if this supposed rumor was to be true, this lily was truly special.

“Is that so? That is quite impressive, (Name),” He states, gentle smile dancing across his lips. He found your enthusiasm quite amusing, yet oddly admirable. Due to the recent, some quite grim, events at the monastery, the atmosphere had been quite dull and colorless, so seeing someone with this much happiness in them was uplifting for the young Prince.

“Five years is a long time for a flower, but not so much for us. A lot of things can change in such a short amount of time.” With Dimitri’s words comes a breeze of uncertainty and mystery that hits both of you like the cold winds of Faerghus. It was true that no one but perhaps the Goddess herself knows what the future holds and admittedly the thought scared you. There were things that people assumed would happen naturally, like Dimitri becoming the King of the Holy Kingdom, but in the end, even those things weren’t certain.

“We might not see any of our classmates after we leave the Officer’s Academy.”

“You’re right.” Your gaze falls on the ground for a moment as the weight of the ambiguity slowly presses itself against you. You look at Dimitri, your dearest friend, and wonder what the flow of time brings and how it would affect your strong yet so easily breakable relationship. “However, we won’t change.” Dimitri blinks a couple of times, waiting for you to continue your words of determination.

“You know what?” You suddenly say and point at the flower still in your hand with your eyes. “I’m going to keep this flower. No matter what the future holds, we’ll see each other after we graduate. Think of this lily as me. So long as it blooms, I’ll be around and ready to meet you again. And remember, this beauty blooms for a very long time.” A reassuring smile widens the corners of your lips, a playful shimmer glistening in your eyes and fortunately, you notice Dimitri smiling as well.

Your words are rather silly, and you don’t expect him to take them to heart as you are more than certain you will see the man in front of you before the flower has time to even think about withering. However, by then, he is most likely the King of Faerghus and buried in royal duties.

“Sounds like you’re proposing we make a deal.” He chuckles briefly. “Very well then. Let’s promise to reunite after graduation.” Your smile widens at that and you nod, eyes brimming with determination and hope.

“It’s a deal.”

~

The aftermath of the battle was like any other. Enemy soldiers on the ground, laying on top of a pool of blood, the Kingdom troops exhausted but satisfied with the victory. Just like they had been told, (Surname) territory had been taken over by Imperial forces with no challenge. No one was defending the territory during the five years the war had been going on and with a fraction of the Imperial army vanished, the Kingdom Army had reclaimed yet another part of their nation. However, this victory meant little for the King.

When you weren’t present at the highly grim class reunion, Dimitri knew something was amiss. His already unhinged mental state sunk deeper into the dangerous abyss that was his mind and his new obsession, other than killing Edelgard, was finding the very person he had made a crucial deal with all those years ago. 

The (Surname) territory was undefended, empty, no signs of the members of the family anywhere; In the perfect state for an invasion and now that the Imperial soldiers had been disposed of, the atmosphere should have been better, but it wasn’t.

Dimitri searched and searched, looking for the one he cherished, desperately trying to find any evidence of your whereabouts, all the while the merciless demons within him screamed at him. He tried to ignore them, because finding you was the only thing that mattered in this very moment, however at the same time he was afraid. Afraid that he would suddenly hear your voice in his head.

“There’s no sign of her, Your Highness.” A kingdom knight said to him, having searched the entire area and returning to his King with a sorrowful look upon his face

“Keep searching!” He said, voice filled with anger, impatience, and underlying sadness and hopelessness. With heavy steps, he headed towards the manor where the noble family would spend most of their days in, a place Dimitri himself had been in many times before. Before his mind hungered for revenge.

He had to find you, his mind let go of his desire to avenge his family for this brief moment as his vision was clouded. The last bits of his sanity he didn’t notice were hanging onto him, dependent on your reunion. The broken man stepped into the manor, heading straight for his beloved’s room and ignoring the concerned Professor most likely following him.

Despite saying to himself he wanted to see your face once more, in reality, the thought scared him. Should he find you in this mansion of yours, you would most likely be but a decaying corpse, and even more than not finding you, he was terrified of seeing you in front of him with no life left in you. He tried to push the thought away, but it was stabbing him, burying its knife into him deeper than any other. He was in pain, and the screams were getting louder the closer he got to your room.

The door opened with hesitation, an overwhelming anxiety rampaging all around Dimitri and inside him as he stepped in, expecting and also secretly hoping to find an empty, lifeless room that was nothing but a decaying memory of his childhood. His mind was a mess, much like it had been for the past five years but the desperate desire to see you and you wonderful smile with his now dull blue eyes kept him partially sane. It gave him hope. But that hope was reduced to dust and blown away the moment he looked around the room. Because what he saw, was far worse than the sight of your corpse. Because what lied in front of him, on the cold floor, wasn’t a corpse at all.

The thing that completely broke him, surrounded by the grueling silence that was only broken by his desperate, painful sobs,

Was a certain, white lily, withered away.

[arofili]

The Second Kinslaying

for @feanorianweek, day 5: Curufin. this fic is my headcanons for how the Second Kinslaying went down. this is a dream/flashback from chapter 4 of a longer fic about the Feanorians’ rebirth, but it stands on its own and i’m quite proud of it so i wanted to share it again!!

CW: canonical character death, graphic depictions of violence

~

Maedhros tells them to hold back as long as they can. Curufin tries to listen, but he is so full of anger; the Oath pushes him forward...

They are met by a line of guards—marchwardens summoned home to protect Menegroth from attack. They are not enough, not without Melian's protection. Maedhros orders not to kill them unless they must. Curufin tries to obey, he truly does, but the first marchwarden cuts down one of his warriors and he sees red. Before he knows it, he has killed again.

It's never easy. Looking into the glassy eyes of another elf, their blood on your hands, their fae drained away... Your own fae is tattered at the edges, bleeding out its light. Curufin isn't just tattered, he's shredded into pieces.

Caranthir charges forward, wreaking a path of destruction. He screams Dior's name, taunting him, goading him to come out and fight. "Or are you content to let your people die for you?" he cries. Curufin is too caught up in the battle to feel anything other than a brief pang of fear for his brother. Caranthir fights alone: it is his way, has always been his way.

Maedhros and Maglor are together, bellowing commands to their warriors, trying to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. Maglor weaves between Maedhros' swordstrokes, dancing in a rhythm only he can hear. He is preparing for something, Curufin knows. Something powerful. Maedhros stands tall, defending. He cuts down only those who come for him, never seeking out an opponent. He doesn't have to: he is the leader, the eldest, the fiery beacon burning through the gaping wounds in his fae. He is the target.

The twins are hidden in the trees. They and their archers rain arrows upon the warriors; the strategy is not as effective as it would have been in their own lands. The marchwardens know their home too well, and clamber up the branches to fight them closer.

He and Celegorm are back to back, working together as they always have. They are better as a unit, fiercer and sharper and faster. United with his brother, Curufin is unstoppable. Celegorm is wildness, he is cleverness. Together they are a force to be reckoned with.

The carnage outside the throne room is sickening, even to Curufin. He wades in blood, widening his stance so he does not slip; he watches less experienced fighters trip over the bodies of their fallen kin. When one marchwarden falters in such a blunder, Curufin lunges, splitting him open from groin to gullet.

At last they see Dior. He is radiant, glowing like a Calaquendi, but all seven Fëanorians can see at once that he has hidden the Silmaril. It may still be on his person, or it may be elsewhere—where is it? where is it? where is it?

Caranthir screams and rushes forward into the throne room. He babbles some nonsense about a Maia's bastard, coming completely unhinged. Curufin exchanges one look with Celegorm, and they hurry to their brother's aid.

They can't get close enough. Behind him, Curufin can hear Maglor's voice raised in a song of power, and the earth trembles—the walls outside the throne room collapse. They are trapped inside. The fighting intensifies; Curufin and Celegorm protect Caranthir's back, holding back anyone who tries to assault him in his march to Dior, but they cannot reach him.

"What is he doing?" Celegorm bellows. "This is madness! He'll be killed!"

Caranthir has cast down his shield. He holds a blade in either hand, and he leaps toward Dior, who catches those twin blades with his own curved sword.

Madness. Yes, that was the right word. Caranthir had gone mad, heedless of his many wounds, completely berserk. Celegorm cried out to him, but Curufin knew it wouldn't work. Caranthir was too far gone inside his own mind.

"NO!" Celegorm shouts, and Curufin can't find words, can't find air, can't find meaning—

Dior's blade has sliced through Caranthir's armor, through his skin, through his belly, straight through to the other side of his body.

Caranthir goes still, staring into Dior's gleaming eyes. "Kinslayer," he says through a mouthful of blood, before he falls limp, Dior's blade sliding out of him.

Fool. A damn fool, that's what he was. Curufin's hot tears blind him as he rushes forward, heedless of who he's killing as he fights his way to his brother's body. Celegorm roars, and he's no singer like Maglor, but the sound sends a wave of force throughout the throne room. Every elf tumbles to the ground—only Curufin, standing in his shadow, keeps his footing. He darts forward, slicing throats, slitting wrists, stealing life from all those around him. He isn't sure if all his own warriors had already fallen, or if he had killed them all too, but by the time he regains control of himself, only he, Celegorm, and Dior are standing.

"You know," Celegorm growls as he advances on the murderous king, "if you had surrendered and given us the Silmaril, we would have spared you. Even if we'd already started fighting. But now?" He lunges forward, nicking Dior on the arm before his blow is deflected. "Now, I don't care what you do. I'm going to fucking disembowl you."

"Oh, yes," Curufin hisses, mirroring his brother as the duel begins in earnest. "You killed our brother. I am going to enjoy your suffering, Dior Eluchíl."

(The worst thing, Curufin thinks later, after it is all over, is that it is absolutely true. He never took pleasure in murder, despite what the stories may have said. He accepted it as part of the Oath they had sworn and didn't waste time obsessing over the guilt—not the way Nelyo did—but he never liked it. But this time...)

This time, he relishes every second of Dior's pain and fear. He draws it out, longer than he needs to, balancing Celegorm's impatient fury. Dior knows he's losing, but he holds his own against the two most fearsome warriors left living in Beleriand. He must have known this day would come, must have been raised in fear of the Fëanorians.

Well, good, Curufin thinks as he cuts one of Dior's sleeves off, then the other, grinning as Dior gasps from the pain of the shallow grazes on his arms. He deserves every second of terror, for what he had done to Caranthir.

"Shall we finish him, brother?" he asks Celegorm.

"I think we shall," Celegorm growls. He raises his sword for one final, heaving blow—

And Dior, faster than Curufin thought anyone could be, twists away from Curufin and drives his blade right into Celegorm's chest.

Celegorm finishes his movement, thrown off balance by the deadly wound but still managing to slice open Dior's stomach. His guts spill across his body with an acidic stench that rises to Curufin's nostrils, but he barely notices as Celegorm heaves his last breath and falls, glassy-eyed, to the blood-drenched floor.

Dior tumbles to the ground, groaning horribly, his sword clattering out of his hand. Curufin turns away from him, kneeling beside Celegorm's body, howling his grief. He feels as if half his soul has been torn from him. Celegorm is dead.

Curufin rises, trembling. He casts aside his own blade and picks up Dior's sword, advancing on his fallen foe.

"Where is it?" he hisses. "The Silmaril! Where is it?"

Dior laughs, an awful, guttural sound. "You'll never get it," he rasps. "Never. Not even—" he coughs, choking on his own blood— "not even if you slaughter everyone in Doriath. You'll never find it."

Curufin's rage is controlled, precise. He has honed it over his entire life like he would any other weapon, and even now he does not lose that control.

"My brother was always true to his word," he says softly, almost conversationally. "He promised to disembowl you." Curufin prods the mass of putrid guts spilling out of Dior's stomach, chuckling. "And he did it. I, however, am a known liar. I said I would enjoy your death. Now I am not so sure. Perhaps I will let you lie here until the rats come to feast upon you. I should let you bleed out, long and slow. You are going to die, you know."

Fear flickers in Dior's eyes. Curufin smiles.

"Yes, I think I'll do that," he says. "Let you go at your own pace. That will delay the inevitable."

"You..." Dior rasps, but Curufin cuts him off.

"Ah ah ah," he tuts. "Talking only makes it worse."

He shifts as if to turn around, letting Dior think he's gotten off the hook, that perhaps there may some way his Ainur blood could stitch him back together. He sees Dior relax slightly out of the corner of his eye.

Then he spins back around, shoving Dior's own blade down his throat until he chokes on it, bursting through his esophagus and pinning him to the floor. Dior screams, as much as a dying man with a sword through his throat can scream, and the awful noise causes a thrill of sadistic joy in the pit of Curufin's stomach.

The scream trails off into a hideous gurgle, and Curufin's shoulders slump. Grief at last overtakes him, and he shakes as sobs rack his body. Caranthir is dead. Celegorm is dead. Dior is dead, also, but the Silmaril is not on his body. Unless the others have discovered it, this horror is all in vain...

The others. Maedhros, Maglor, Amrod, Amras. He must tell them what had happened. He must be the one to deliver the heartbreaking news that two of them had fallen. He must—

"Oh," he says softly as he feels cold steel run through his back and watches as a sword slides through his belly. He is dizzy all of a sudden, though his rhaw has gone numb and all sense of pain is dulled.

Curufin topples backward, falling on the hilt of the sword, the weight of his body pushing the blade deeper into his torso. He looks up, mouth hanging open in surprise, to see a slight and silvery figure hovering above him, her bloodstained hands clasped over her mouth in horror. Nimloth has taken vengeance for her husband.

He locks eyes with her. He is barely aware of what he whispers in his dying breath, but she hears it, the echo of Caranthir's last accusation:

"Kinslayer."

~

[read more about Curvo’s thoughts “after it is all over” in ATATYA, the fic i pulled this snippet from! and please, please leave a comment if you enjoy!]

[mw-draws]

we've only properly seen him for five minutes, but i already absolutely love Dhawan!master. he's completely unhinged and manic and his giddy little clap is just so master-y. the complete glee he's got about the entire situation is incredible as well. he and 13 both bounce off each other amazingly in fact and I think it's because how they contrast against each other. obviously, they're gonna clash and contrast, but having a villain that's so like 13 but incredibly different to her is amazing and she needs that contrast. she needs someone to make her this angry

I mean, we have never seen 13 get this angry, it's unsettling, unusual even, but it's good, we get to see deeper into her character. the Master is honestly the perfect villain for her and there's none better than Dwahan!master. he could easily unravel every one of her secrets because he knows how much she doesn't want that to happen and because of his chat with Graham, he knows how little her companions actually know about her. and what better to start off with than "the doctor has got a best enemy who go a way way way back".

the way they talk to each other would set alarm bells off in her companions' heads because to them, they don't know who the Master is, they don't know how bad this is for the Doctor and they don't know why she's reacting so badly. to them, they must think he's with Barton up until the Doctor starts looking about like this

then they figure out. he's not just with Barton, he's much more than that. he's someone dangerous, someone from the Doctor's past and this big show that the Master has put on plants something in their minds: doubt.

soon, they'll start asking questions like "who is the Master to you?" and it'll soon lead to Graham asking "who are you, doc?". its the master's plan to watch the Doctor's life crumble around her, so why not knock over the first piece?

[gamergirluprising]

Alastor’s Possible Backstory, Emotional, And Mental State.

Okay, so, I find Alastor from Hazbin Hotel one of the few characters that interest me due to his sheer mysterious aura. He has a lot of secrets and I’d like to dissect this man down to his mannerisms, his beliefs, his (low-key/high-key?) pessimistic view of life, and his use of voodoo. I personally am not a fan of the said show since it’s pretty vulgar and hasn’t caught my attention due to the possible problems I see in the show (Why the heck did the God in this universe allow a hierarchy to take place AND give people superpowers by turning them into magical animals and such? Why did he even make a Hell?) 

But anyway, I’m not here to discuss my likes and dislikes about the show, I'm here to discuss the Radio Demon and what could have possibly happened in his life as a child to start this craziness and explain his complex personality, mental state, and emotional state. Alrighty with that being said, LET’S DISSECT!

ＭＥＮＴＡ L~𝓔𝓜𝓞𝓣𝓘𝓞𝓝𝓐𝓛 ~BEGINNING

Dude’s got a mental problem fam, and I'm not saying this just cause this man’s teeth are as yellow as Bill Cipher’s entire existence. No, no, no this man is crazy for not just his unhinged need to see other’s fail and to have utter and complete control(Will tackle later) he’s crazy for his huge narcissistic behavior. Dude, Honestly thinks he’s better than everyone and ONLY allows those he thinks are worthy into his “friend” circle. I quote friend because I’m not too sure how exactly and deeply he feels about Rosie aside from their relationship being like Jack and Mary from Mary Poppins Returns, as stated by Vivzie on twitter. He finds those who don’t always smile as people who are WEAK and LAUGHABLE and regardless of how they are, he still finds them to be weak, which BY GOD is such a flawed way of thinking GEEZ. Now after reading about Alastor and becoming more intrigued, I decided to do research on his behavior and when and how it starts. 

𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐦 has 9 defining traits. I’ll go over a few that I’ve noticed.

1. He really thinks he’s more important than anyone else and has shown this through his mannerisms, the way he speaks, his vibe and just his general character scream “I’m better than you!”

2. HE LOVES SHOWING OFF! Dude can’t seem to get enough of the spotlight, thus why he LOVES to broadcast his carnage on the radio! Why else would he do so!? He finds constant admiration and respect when he does his “little” display of power!

3. Now, we ALL know he has done some pretty...gruesome things to claim strength and be seen as the strongest, even when there are others who are stronger he displays himself as if he is more dominating and wouldn’t waste his time with, how you say, vermin. This is evident by his response to Vox

You can find where I found this here at Faustisse’s cleanup and Inking vid of the upcoming Alastor Comic https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_15UYpcWJ_Q

In case it is too hard to read due to the bad quality, Alastor is saying “Show off all that and no cattle.” which is pretty much  “all hat, no cattle” (or, alternately, “big hat, no cattle”) which refers to someone who is all talk with no action, power, or substance behind his/her words. I’d applaud this power move, and still kinda do, if it weren’t for this dudes BIG HEAD lol.

BUT, you get the point, the dude is an egomaniac! “We already knew this, I mean DUH!” you say to me pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do you point out the obvious?!”

Well, notice how severe and prevalent these traits are. Don’t you find it odd how this dude has SEVERE megalomania? Well, I did research and found out that Narcissism has a very sad connection most of the time and affects males more than females.

at https://www.healthdirect.gov.au/causes-of-npd here’s what I found

Notice the parental factors during early childhood are all abuse-related. This could very well be one, if not the main reason, why Al is the way he is: He was abused as a child! And to make matters worse, as I was looking deeper into this, I noticed that sexual abuse is ANOTHER factor, which would explain why Alastor doesn’t like being touched without consent or by surprise but will GLADLY invade other’s personal space to feel in control (He's a hypocrite like that). Sexual assault victims ALSO don’t like being touched without consent so this just adds more proof to my claim! And serial killers tend to have a rough family life and have been molested, taken advantage of, neglected, or all of the above! 

It’s also come to my attention that Alastor enjoys talking with women more than men for 2 reasons. 1) Alastor finds it easier and more enjoyable to talk with women. 2) He finds men to be dumb brutes at least in hell.

I give COMPLETE CREDIT to @dollymoon

Thank you for the awesome amount of facts you’ve provided! RESPECT! https://www.tumblr/dollymoon

Alastor most likely has a very harsh grudge against the world due to his treatment as a young child. His abuse, and possible loss of his mother growing up, lead to him finding joy in seeing those suffer and fail EVERY SINGLE TIME! Notice the way he talks creepily to Charlie about watching sinners “Repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pits of F A I L U R E.” Look at this man’s face as he’s saying this! The man looks turned on with the VERY fact of people suffering, that’s his kink, y’all, he a damn sadist! (No, being asexual doesn’t mean you can’t have kinks, I’ve checked, lol. Got you fam.) Ima kink shame the hell out of this man (Pun-unintended) 

Ahem, anyway, this dude has got a hate boner for the world and finds relief when exacting pain on others because he feels wronged and feels the world is to blame. He does seem to acknowledge and accept that where he’s at is the end of the road for those who want to change, their chance was when they were alive, and has accepted that this is the natural order of things and they can’t fix that. I had this vibe that he must have gone to church as a kid due to his mom being religious and he loved his mom so he obeyed, Has been stated by Faustisse that he’s a mama’s boy, BUT remember, Vivzie said anything that comes out of HER mouth is what’s canon. Unless she has already stated it as fact any other info can’t be trusted. (Even though this info is PAINSTAKINGLY clear just by him mentioning his mother’s cooking and it just makes too much sense, lol.)

So he must have grown up to be low-key violent but with manners like he practiced being slick and suave in order to trick people into trusting him so that he may kill them without getting caught, which would work perfectly with him not chasing people due to his moral code. He practiced and practiced and seeing as how he was well-off in his later years, I’d assume he started doing his radio schtick when he was in his early 20s or at the age of 18. So he began when the roaring 20s was just starting, a new beginning for him! 

Alastor's name means "he who does not forget", "avenger", "persecutor", "tormenter", "one who suffers from divine vengeance".

(This also makes me think his real name is Alexander/Alexandre since it's the exact opposite of his Hell-Name and more interestingly, in terms of name-giving traditions, between the latter half of the Spanish period (1790-1803) and the beginning of Jim Crow Segregation (1893-1964), gallicized names of classical Greek and Roman origins dominated in Loiusiana. This may be due, in whole, or in part, to the fact that New Orleans had North America’s (excluding Central America and the Caribbean) first Opera Houses and Theatres, owned, frequented and operated by Creoles from Louisiana, Cuba and Saint-Domingue/Haiti. Adonis is my second choice since It literally means "handsome man" and that would totally fit him for his handsomeness to the fact I feel that his mom would def name him this outside of Alexander/Alexandre.) http://www.mylhcv.com/common-creole-names-for-males/

This is a HEAVY hint to what happened in his life and why he’s so drawn to seeing people fail and helps hold my theory together quite a bit, if not a lot. Of all the names to give this dude, he was given a name that legit is on par with the word “Vengeance” and “Avenger”. Vengeance for what? Avenge who? He was wronged. He possibly is angered also by the death of his mother, who was most likely his ONLY ray of light. He is a broken man who most likely has insecurities, based on the info of narcissism which tells us that narcissistic people are the most insecure sorts of people. Alastor is aware of this and sees it as a weakness, something to be culled and hidden from the world never seeing the light of day. His only way of making himself feel stronger and more in control was through voodoo and cannibalism. Many Cannibals believe to be the bees-knees since they go a step FURTHER into crime by devouring their victims and placing themselves into a rank different and more feared by the rest. They see that no one else would even have the balls to attempt to reach that spot, which again leads back to the way Alastor thinks. He just adds oil to the fire when doing voodoo and doing BLOOD RITUALS which you can see him doing when attacking Sir Pentious!  https://twitter.com/hntrgurl13/status/1197918059836690433?s=20

Dude has so much baggage that he hides behind a smile he thinks ALONE brings strength like niBBa are you serious? I’d like to see this man try and say that to the faces of strong people like Superman, Goku, Midoriya, Naruto, Broly, Wonder Woman, GOD. Yo even GOD shows emotions. Wanna know why these beings are strong? It ain’t just cause they smile, Nah, it’s cause they’re determined or the very literal embodiment of determination. they have a damn balance and that strength helps them smile through the pain, they don’t need to exhibit a smile to be strong cause them being themselves and having the strong mentality is what gives them strength, not a damn smile. Watch Charlie hit him with the good old reality check when the man attempts to freaking take over her joint (Both hotel and hell) and she proves strength ain’t just gained through smiling or dominating others. He high-key sounds weak for even having that mindset, only weaklings think like this. He has a very weak view of life which brought forth a monster, or should I say DEMON.

Here’s the info of him not liking being touched.

I’d also like you guys to keep in mind that Vivzie has stated that none of the characters have split personalities, proving Al knows EXACTLY what he's doing.

It’s all them but some have a DUALITY to them. As hinted at by the word "dual" within it, duality refers to having two parts, often(but not always) with opposite meanings, like the duality of good and evil. If there are two sides to a coin, metaphorically speaking, there's a duality. Notice how Alastor also has a duality in him. What kind tho? Remember those shadows that follow him everywhere? Yeah I'm pretty sure those shadows represents his duality in some way, shape, or form.

I also forgot to add that Masochism and Sadism both ALSO stem from the same things Narcissism does or similar things like being sexually abused as a kid. Remember not all cases are the same, I just wanted to put that out there (Not sure If Al is still a Masochist since that’s old info from him being just a deer and liked it when people tried to kill him.)

So in conclusion:

-Dude was possibly abused as a child by his Father

-he hates society/the world due to his terrible child life

-He possibly feels shame for what he has done and thus has accepted his fate

-He loves his mama and MOST LIKELY hates his father who probs is the one who did him a terrible service for just being his father growing up, this would explain his view on men as well

-He also feels shame for being so weak to even allow his father or any male figure to do what they did to him

-Man gets turned on when seeing people like sinners suffer.

KEEP. IN. MIND. None of this excuses his terrible behavior and excuses for being so power-hungry, He’s an interesting character and I love his quirks but he is by no means a victim without faults. He is a product of society and that’s sad but he needs to pay for his horrible actions. Cannibalism is going to far, using you and your victim’s blood for voodoo isn’t excusable, and just killing someone for the sake of vengeance won’t make the pain go away, so nothing he does that involves harming people is cute or a way to suppress his anger, which he’ll have to learn the hard way in this story, I bet. Hopefully, it’s done well cause he’s still very much a bad guy regardless of the fact that he is aiding charlie.

WHEW, that was a long post, one of my longest ones! I really wanted to write out my thoughts on this character cause I’m ALWAYS intrigued by the mystery characters like him withhold. They tend to have hints to their behavior and it was really fun traveling through the possibilities of his nature. I’m probably 100% wrong about all of what I said since I am still not sure about everything and I researched as much as I could. I wouldn’t have had such an easy time if it wasn’t for @dollymoon and their amazing efforts to inform the community, y’all crazy but y’all dedicated so respect. I am not part of the community so I wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint all the info and more. So this is my piece on Alastor the Radio Demon, a.k.a dude who looks like he’s taken ecstasy. 

P.S

-Why is this man wearing a torn up and ragged jacket when he can easily make himself a better freaking jacket? The man wore a one that was fresh as hell during his reprise, so what gives?! and why in God’s name is his damn teeth yellow? How you gonna say “You're never fully dressed without a smile” but got on one of the dirtiest smiles I’ve ever freaking seen? I'd rather not smile and be strong than to wear my clothes at its dirtiest(his smile I mean). Ain’t no way in the fresh hell would I invite an edgy radioman, who I know does voodoo, into my damn house, I am too black/Haitian for that bull.

-Y’all finna tell me why y’all falling for a man who canonically has stank breathe...?

At least clean his damn teeth and give him a mint first, D A M N people!

again, thank you very much @dollymoon

but yeah, that’s my theory y’all, hope you enjoy and sorry for the constant repetition in here! DISSECTION OVER. . .

[platinumbutthole]

Memories in Red

When a dream has gone on for too long, the thin membrane between reality and the clouded world of the mind may be broken, leaving the dreamer submerged in the dark void of their own subconscious. Another dream has come and went, even as it proves to be darker and more unpleasant than the last, I miss it dearly.

I awake to this padded room once again rattled, only to recollect that I am indeed crazy, spats of lucidity grace my presence as if pleading me to write out this memoir of sorts. This very well may be the only way I can gain a grip back into reality, or more likely, drive myself deeper into the thick fog that is consuming my mind. In this conscious state, I recollect only that of less importance unto myself; age, occupation, or even my damn name remains a mystery. But of what I know, I did have a life before my spiral into the abyss of insanity. A wife that dips into my memories only to taunt me with her mysterious beauty, a pocket watch that meant some special importance in my life, a dog, and a grotesque bastard child. You see, I was sent here of my own accord, I did not want to be locked up with the ingrates of the penal system, I felt better suited to be one with the shit eaters and comatose rotted vegetables that also live within the walls of this sanitarium. In here, bound up like mummified corpses, the fear isn’t of those around us, it is of what is inside yourself. I chose this route because of an urge that set upon me long ago, this urge is only one of the multiple memories that alludes me every time I find myself sitting on the edge of reality looking back into the grim horrors that clouds my true subconscious.

The bloody cuts across my hands and fingers are the only real source of entertainment here, it seems my writing has been going on for quite some time judging by the amount of scribble on the walls, red patches, and smears correlate into a jumbled mess of words directed only towards myself. These words scrolled out reveal portions of my life that I may have wanted to remember, or possibly forget. Judging by the writing on the walls, I must have been busy the past few days, so many words and phrases give way to more conclusive statements. “Children under god” and “remember” plastered in bright red imagery above the cell door, followed by multiple occurrences of the name “Virgil”.

In this place, time holds value higher than any currency, it is not easily retrieved, and the lack of a clock or workers doesn’t help the issue one bit. Thought my memories are few and far between, I don’t recall any staff member gracing me with their presence in a long time, I don’t know how long I have gone without human interaction, let alone food and water. Looking at my poor excuse for a body it seems like I haven’t indulged in sustenance in quite a long time, each rib visible as the last, a pale, bony chest leading to shoulders that have no fat left on them. My shadow being cast by the single white florescent bulb that hangs in the middle of my padded hovel looks like the creatures that haunt me late at night, I laugh, trying to convince myself that these nightly visits are all in my head, but the scars tell otherwise. I say this because being in a padded room meant for a mentally unhinged patient as myself, there is no tool for me to tear into my own flesh, no knife or piece of glass, gifting myself the sweet release of red ink that I so desperately crave. No, I get these wounds by another force, an unknown being in the shadows, the corners of my cell representing the shackles of my mind that won’t let me free. Sometimes it comes in the form of my wife, nameless and transparent she takes my arms, lifting them up and giving them the lightest kiss before slashing with her sharp claw-like nails, as I look up from the blood into her dark eyes, the calmness turns to fear as she opens her gaping mouth to reveal a black darkness that wants to swallow me whole. This vision of horror only to be set back by rapping on my padded door, no one is there, no one is ever there. I recall waking from a state of mental unsightliness to observe a black dog with bright yellow eyes peering at me from that damned corner of the room, growling and grimacing to show every razor-sharp fang only to leap onto me. I have heard the dreaded sound of tearing flesh too many times in my life, the beings that lurk in this room with me want me to write, they want to be heard. I am tired now, without the value of time at my disposal, the only thing telling me that night has come is when the power to the only light source in the room is shut off. It’s dark now and I must try to sleep.

As I am about to fall into a distant slumber, praying to not being visited by whatever horrible entity of my wretched mind has in store, I hear screaming. This is not an abnormal occurrence in this place, but these screams are different. It sounds as if a child had gotten loose and is running through the halls churning their sorrows into an inconceivable volume not meant for human consumption, and the sound is growing closer to my room. Most of the time the wailing of the mad are my lullaby, whisking me off to a gentle sleep, but not this, it’s been getting closer and closer by the minute, inch by inch the louder it gets. Screams forcing their way through my ear drums and into my very soul. I try to cup my ears with my bloody palms but it’s no use, my eyes feel like they are going to burst only for the screaming to pass my door and stop suddenly. I release my grasp on my head and slowly slide myself to the door, I can’t hear anything, but I feel breathing on the other side as if taunting me, anxiety then hits my chest and I can’t breathe, my heart throbs and the blood smeared writing on the walls beats at the same rate. I fall on my back, looking up at the dark red literature on the walls, only getting brighter with every beat of my waning heart. I can’t hear anything, but I feel something watching me, laughing at me so menacingly that it tears at my insides and would rip my intestines out if gotten the chance. As quickly as I was brought back into my lucid like state, I was taken back again. I find myself at the threshold of sound mind mostly at night, which makes me ironically yearn for more sleep because within this realm of what we know as real, I am brought back into the pit of despair that only those that have experienced true hell will understand.

It’s been a few days now, and I must give myself a hand for the mural now sitting upon the wall adjacent to the door. A painting depicting only what I can convey as a child, sitting on a tricycle peddling towards a grove which is overlooked by a structure deep in the distance. It is disturbing to say the least, not only for the gruesome open-mouthed scowl rippled across the child’s face along with hideously dead eyes, but for the mere fact that it was completely created by the glorious red ink, what a waste. I must have been out cold for a while due to blood loss from the magnitude of my work, but after a while of sitting and staring it seems to calm me, a haven to place my mind when it turns inward on itself once again. I have never been the artistic type, but seeing the absolute scale and detail baffles me, this would be an immense feat to accomplish with a brush let alone a bloody finger. I search my entire brittle body to find an entry point or wound that could have saturated this wall the way it appears, but I find no new scars, my body is the way I left it.

As I sit and marvel at my work of art, I start to hear a sound, the squeaking of wheels ever so gently moving down the corridor outside my cell. I know how ignorant I must be, but the sense of anxiety and dread fill my chest cavity and I can���t take another second. I cannot be taken back again so soon, I must sit and write and keep my sanity just this once, but the wheels keep turning, bringing themselves closer to my room, all I can do is pray to whatever being is still out there for them to pass. Every second feels as if I am staring at the blade of the guillotine waiting for the rope to be cut, but as it creeps closer, the sound suddenly vanishes. I am in silence now, my body aches but I am still, knowing that something is out there waiting, staring directly into the cell, its breath hitting the widow with such force I hear it across the room. I cannot bring myself to peer out of the small dusty window on the door, for hiding whatever alludes me is the only way I can still survive here.

My visitor has yet to show itself, just viewing my quarters through a tiny glass pane, mocking me for my cowardliness to not step up and peer into the eyes of the unknown. I have convinced myself time and time again that there is a good reason I am in here, for I have the tendencies of a mad man, and inside these walls is the only place I belong. But this entity standing at my door may be my last hope of salvation, an utterance of good in a place stricken with evil. I have convinced myself to stand up and show my face to the staring one, and as I stand, the lonely light in the room flashes and burns out. Darkness hits my skin and chills me to my core, I cannot be trapped in here again, alone, pleading for light, the salvation to my pain-stricken mind. This mustn’t stop me, I must see my viewing party firsthand or forever be confined within the madness of the unknown. Every step to the door of my padded cell takes longer than the last, heart beating faster and faster, red ink on the walls flashing to the beat once again, illuminating my short path. I step up to the door, feeling the buildup of anxiety piercing my internal organs, wincing at the pain I look up at the cold, dusty, window. I look through to see nothing, just the source of blackness that has poured into the confines of my cell. But still, the breathing continues at a more advanced pace, this time it is not hitting the door, the hairs on the back of my neck raise as the hot rush of air pours onto me.

I clench my jaw tight, close my eyes, and stand facing the door hoping for whatever is behind me to leave my presence, but it does not go away. Instead, I feel the grip of a bony hand onto my shoulder, long nails cutting into my skin, I glance down slowly to see the hand that is grasping me is a woman’s, I can see her wedding ring digging into the finger leaving barely any skin, only pure white bone. I have an instant of clarity, realizing I know that hand from so long ago, I turn back quickly to view my visitor only to be greeted by my mural, only it’s changed. Bright red ink glowing so bright in the pitch blackness, showing off the same detailed landscape, the grove with an overlooking structure, but the child is gone, what is left is the bloody trail of something dragged off the bottom of the painting. Before I could even look over the whole mural, the light in the middle of the room bursts on, presenting the painting in its entirety in which the pure sight of it all brought me to my knees, hands pressed tightly against the sides of my head I couldn’t scream, nothing was left in me. In the picture, the bloody marks where the child once sat and rode his tricycle, lead out of the painting onto the ground where I knelt, and at the end of the trail laid the red coated tricycle laying sideways, wheel still spinning, squeaking ever so softly. I start to shake erratically, as my eyes move past the toy, onto a small body lying face down near my feet, bloodied and battered, the ink to my mural.

I know now what I have done to be in this place, I deserve to be here, in this wretched cell, dipping meaninglessly into insanity only to be brought back to face the reality of my cruel ways. As I stare at the lifeless corpse laying at my feet, it begins to move, and twitch in horrible ways I cannot even try to describe, he lifts his head by a weak neck, dark dead eyes lead down to a hideous scowl wrapped around a twisted face. I squirm, the dreaded feeling tearing away at my guilt-stricken insides consumes my whole body, leaving me motionless, not a single breath left in my lungs. I know that face, as horrid and decrepit as it may seem, whatever lay before me was my son, but now just another entity meant to bring me exactly what I deserve. Now all I have left to do is stare into the precipice of my own despair, waiting for this entity to consume me in the most dreadful way possible. We can never truly block out the pain, it will always be there, waiting to torment us until our last breath

[xsteriism]

Breaking Bad

Breaking Bad (on ao3)

by celestial-irondad

2, 352 words

hello! this is a (late) fic for @princessmisery666’s challenge with @technically-a-little-dragon as co-creator. happy birthday and i hope you enjoyed this little something! (i mentioned tony stark a little since i couldnt help myself, but it’s very brief)

beware of cut!!

----

“I am not in danger, I am the danger,” Peter said as he took two deep breaths. “In fact, hydra should be scared. I’m coming for them and nothing can stop me. I am Peter Parker, I am Spider-Man and I am not afraid of anything.”

He kicked down the heavy metal doors to the hydra base, wincing when the door unhinged and made the loudest ringing noise that seemed to resonate throughout the building. He rushed to pick the doors up, leaning them against the filthy wall, holdings palms out in case they fell again. He heard Bucky chuckling over the comms, followed by the clicking sound of his safety going off. 

“Yep, kiddo, you laugh in the face of danger, don’t you?” 

Peter sighed, wishing the rest of the team was with them, but they were all around the world for various missions tasked by Shield. Natasha was in Budapest with Clint again, doing whatever they were doing. Sam and Steve were in Wakanda for a mandatory meeting about something Peter can’t quite remember. Bruce and Tony were back in the compound, working on the latest updates for their weapons and equipment. And Rhodey was on medical leave, having eaten something… unpleasant the day before. This left Peter and Bucky to deal with this mission— a rescue mission for any potential victims residing in the hydra base.

When they reached the mission site, both superheroes realised there was no way to source for the victims if they didn’t split up, so with great reluctance, Bucky told Peter to meet him at the rendezvous latest by seven in the evening. Peter nodded reluctantly and did as he was told, hence his little pep talk for himself. 

The moment he truly took into account his surroundings, Peter felt something unpleasant churning in his gut. His spider-senses were going haywire, screaming danger, danger, danger in his ears, but Peter just chalked it up to being in a Hydra base and continued in his search for the victims.

Meanwhile, Bucky was also feeling the same unpleasant feeling, instincts screaming at him to leave, but he had a mission to do, so he sucked it up and continued onward. But something was definitely off, Bucky knew. Usually, a Hydra base would be filled with scientists, guards and commanders, but this particular base had nobody in it, completely empty, save for Peter and Bucky. The lights in the building were flickering, dim to the point of being unable to see and the doorknobs were so rusty that even a non-enhanced could break them.

All these pointed to one very obvious fact, realised way too late: this hydra base had been abandoned. Bucky cursed himself for not noticing it sooner, causing the spider-ling to be in danger. Fear thrummed in his veins as he reached for his comms to contact Peter and tell him to get out of the building as soon as possible. Just as he neared the entrance he used, a voice suddenly made itself known, creating a static in his ears that made him realise that his communications system with Peter was offline. 

“Intruder alert. Self-destruction activated,” an automated voice spoke, before metal shutters started coming down from the ceiling, about to trap everyone inside to prevent them from escaping. Bucky cursed again, running faster and sliding under them right before they hit the ground. Before he could calm himself from the adrenaline rush, the building collapsed, some of the debris hitting Bucky along the way, temporarily immobilising him. Bucky could feel his survival instincts coming in, the way Winter was pushing forward to take control of his body.

‘Mission objective: find and protect Peter,’ Bucky managed to tell Winter right before he faded back into his conscience. He trusted the soldier enough to carry out the self-assigned mission, something that didn’t happen often. They were forced to survive, not to have any wants or likes. 

Winter crawled out of the rubble when it was stable enough, immediately starting to dig his way through the chaos to find Peter’s thin body. Before Bucky’s anxiety made Winter panic, they heard Peter's short breaths through the comms and could tell that he was either in the midst of a panic attack, or was about to have one, but at least they knew that the spider-child was alive. They took off in the direction of Peter’s location, with Bucky thanking the lord for the technology the world had in his head.

“Hey, Bucky? You there?" Peter’s voice was too soft over the comms and they could practically feel the panic choking the kid. Winter could faintly hear panicked breathing and broken sobs over the comms as they desperately tried to find Peter. The spider-child must be terrified, buried under the building. Bucky winced as he watched through Winter’s eyes, his heart feeling as if someone wrung it like a cloth and proceeded to stab a thousand needles in it. Damn it, where was Peter?

“Help, I-I’m stuck! I’m stuck! Please... Bucky please help me— I… I…” Peter was crying over the comms and even though it hurt their enhanced ears, he didn’t lower the volume nor did he turn it off. He could hear thudding and crying and silent screaming and Bucky wished they hadn’t split ways in the first place.

“Hold on, kiddo,” Winter’s voice was deeper than Bucky’s and he said the nickname in Russian to let Peter know he was in control. “I’m on my way. You still there?”

It was radio silence on Peter’s end and Bucky’s anxiety was going to consume them whole if the spider-child was hurt in any way. Winter dug through the large slabs of cement, throwing it like they weighed nothing, through snow slapping his face, some even entering his eyes and making him tear up.

No matter how much he denied it, Winter knew he was tearing up for a whole other reason. 

When the soldier found Peter under the disaster, he was cradling an unresponsive girl to his chest. Winter could tell that she was dead. From her pale complexion and her malnourished body, the soldier knew there was no possible way she could have survived the collapsing building. Even so, watching Peter’s tear stained face was almost enough to break the cold-hearted Winter Soldier.

Subconsciously, Winter assessed Peter for any injuries. His leg was bent unnaturally and chances were he had a few cracked ribs. His black suit was ripped, exposing quickly bruising skin. As soon as the adrenaline wore off, Peter would feel the cold and the pain of his injuries. Winter would have to ensure they got to their rendezvous point before then. 

In a moment of uncharacteristic behaviour, he knelt next to Peter, placing his metal arm on the dead girl, slowly prying her out of Peter’s thin but strong arms without him noticing. His flesh arm was wrapped around Peter, trying to provide a comfort he wasn’t used to. The young hero was mumbling, seemingly too out of it to even realise it.

“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken, dejected and forlorn. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, Uncle Ben. I’m… I promise I’ll do better! I swear I will— I’ll save…”

Winter winced, having no idea on how to break it to Peter that the girl was dead, so he pulled the smaller body closer to his side, hoping the warmth they were giving off would calm him. The soldier hadn’t seen Peter like this before, so bruised, so hurt, so lost, but still so protective of someone he hadn’t even met in his life.

“Peter,” Winter called his name softly, forcing his voice to be comforting, trying not to use his default monotone voice, the same one used to report back to his handler when he was under Hydra’s command. The kid needed his comfort right now and Winter was going to do whatever it took to ensure he was safe.

Once the soldier managed to wrestle the dead body out of Peter’s strong grip, the first thing he did was throw it away from them. He knew it was cruel and disrespectful to someone already dead, but he couldn’t risk Peter gripping it with his super strength. There was only so much Winter’s strength could do against Spider-Man.

Peter thrashed in Winter’s hold as soon as he realised what was happening. “Wint— what are…? No! Stop!”

Winter couldn’t even manage to carry Peter into his arms before he was escaping his hold, crawling on broken legs to the dead body. The soldier’s heart ached for the child, who was so young but already knew of death and destruction.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay, you’re safe now. Let’s go back to the quinjet, okay?” Winter coaxed, putting his arm gently on the kid to not scare him. This soft side of the usually cold and threatening soldier was new to Winter, but he knew what he had to do in order to keep him safe— to keep them both safe.

Peter shrugged his hand off his shoulder, reaching out to the dead girl. Winter frowned, the clock in his head ticking like a bomb, calculating how much time they had left before Hydra came to inspect their base for potential survivors.

“Pete, we gotta go,” he tried again, but when the kid ignored him yet again, Winter knew he had to harden his resolve. He slid his knife out of its sheath and, with his mind made up, threw. It was quick, of course. The Winter Soldier never missed by accident. He couldn’t miss, or he’d have to deal with an angry handler and Hydra’s torture methods.

But, the scream that escaped Peter as the white snow stained red was almost enough to wish he had. It nearly made him flinch, his heart feeling like shattered glass as he approached the kid, who was trembling like a leaf.

“Wint— Winter, why… did you do that?” Peter’s voice was barely even a whisper and if it weren’t for their heightened hearing, Winter nor Bucky would’ve heard it. Peter sounded like a parent who witnessed the death of their child. It was awful and heart wrenching.

If it were Bucky who was in control, he would’ve flinched, but even so, the soldier was known for being heartless, after all. It was only recently that he learnt how to love again, how to care and protect again.

“Let’s go, kiddo,” Winter tried again, voice soft, “you’re bleeding out and injured. Let’s go back to the tower and patch you up.”

“No! How could you— how could you just kill her?” Peter shouted, voice cracking with the emotions he was feeling. “I… I had a responsibility to save her and you—”

The ticking in Winter’s head was getting louder and so was Bucky’s panicked shouts to get them both out of there before Hydra found them. So, with a heavy mind and an even heavier heart, Winter knocked Peter out with the safest method he knew how, using his flesh hand and hoping to God he didn’t hit too hard.

Gently gathering the kid into his arms, Winter took off in the direction of their rendezvous point, hoping Shield had received their distress signals when their comms went offline and sent back-up. He nearly collapsed when he saw the quinjet they came in next to the Shield jet, relief coursing through his veins.

Winter ignored the agent waiting by the aircrafts in favour of demanding they get back to the compound as soon as possible. He didn’t even see her face in his haste to get onto the quinjet, Peter still limp in his arms. Tony had been extremely firm when he said Peter was not to be harmed in any way, shape or form, but no one had expected this to happen. 

Both Bucky and Winter knew they would have to do a lot to gain back the trust of Tony Stark, adoptive dad of Peter Parker. Everyone knew how protective the saviour of the world got whenever it came to the— his child. Especially when it came to his spider-child.

The man had lost the child, once, seen him fade to dust right before his eyes, right in his hands. Nobody would blame him if he was more than just a little over-protective of the child. 

Bucky knew he would be, too.

Growing restless by Peter’s unresponsive body, Winter started pacing around in the jet, wanting to go and hunt for the Hydra members but wanting to stay by Peter’s side in case he woke up. Before he could wear the jet down, a firm hand pressed onto his shoulder, stilling in his movements.

“Soldier,” the agent from earlier greeted, voice emotionless and Winter quickly realised that the agent from earlier was Maria Hill, not by Fury’s side for once. “I’ll take care of the kid. You go do what you gotta do.”

Winter faced the agent, eyes narrowed in distrust, stepping closer to Peter’s body and Maria immediately raised her hands in surrender to show she meant no harm, that she was planning no harm. “Will you feel better if I said Tony was the one who sent me when he received the distress signals?”

“Ton— Stark sent you?” Winter asked, body relaxing slightly. If Tony sent her, then she would mean no harm. He was overly cautious when it came to the kid, so unless he was absolutely sure Maria would do no harm to Peter, she wouldn’t be here.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I’m not with Nick, right now? I owed Tony a favour, so here I am.”

“If you hurt him, or if he’s hurt while under your care, I’ll kill you right after I come back from killing them,” Winter said, voice rough and eyes hard. Maria nodded, rolling her eyes again and waved him off. Winter grunted, snatching the parachute from the corner and tugged it on before jumping out of the aircraft.

It was time to test if Shuri managed to get his Hydra programming out of his head.

----

hello!!! thank you for reading my fic and please leave a heart if you liked it!! comments are welcomed and follow me for more!!

[foundouthatdabiistouyatodoroki]

do you believe hawks decent into villiany?you reblogged a post about it.

Do I believe hawks is going to fall into villainy? Yes.Mainly I found the whole “Hawks is going to die death flag” idea distasteful.

BNHA is a feel good series. We had Nighteye already die with his character arc resolved ending in a high note. It would be far too depressing if Hawks died with a grim conclusion of his arc;for a feel-good series having Hawks die would be gloomy end to his character arc.

The person who first mentioned this is cutiesabyle who brought up this theory and made a lot of good points about it.

In chapter 191, Hawks and Dabi’s conversation in these panels  is what made me think that Hawks is turning to the dark side. If you look at the panels his face is darkened out in them:

Hawk’s face covered in darkness while he’s talking to Dabi in these panels. After his conversation with Dabi when he leaves his back is swallowed up by the darkness while Dabi is walking to the light.

This could refer to him falling into darkness.Hawks is compared to the fall of Icarus (the Greek myth); that why a lot of people believed he would die when they read this.

But, it’s something entirely different.This meant that Hawks will fall in a more disgraced unheroic or better yet turn into a villainy.

As hamliet described it if you see the BNHA volume 21 cover it would be this:

Hamliet:Hawks has his back turned, and in front of Hawks are blue-ish flames and darkness, which seems to be again symbolic of the panel in which Hawks walked towards the darkness, perhaps foreshadowing a future fall to villainy and of course, representing the deal we know he’s struck with Dabi.

As hamliet once described about Hawks on volume 21 this could be the passage of another hint of Hawks falling into villainy and this cover foreshadows it.

Having more free time may seem like he’s carefree response to Endeavor, but when you look even deeper you see a glimpse of his background.

Here in the flashback  of chapter 192 of Hawks back when he was a child,  in this panel he looks to be from a impoverished background holding an Endeavor doll. The words “must become a hero” isn’t something Hawks has said. These words are from his handlers;not his words but the word of the people who leashed him.He was exploited at a young age because of his quirk and circumstances of his background:

All we see that his entire life he had no choice. He was never given a choice to live freely he was never given a choice.

Hawks was no more than a tool to be exploited when he’s given are orders he can’t turn down. Hawks is very well aware this but obeys their orders.Hawks mentioned the investigation with Gran Torino: he hides in his hood when asked. He can’t talk back to his captors but instead jokes not to earn their ire.

These people control Hawks. He’s treated as a tool by these people.

They exploit hawks for their own convenience. Hawks is very well aware that he is essentially a captive; he knows this and he can’t escape because the people are the ones leashing him and handling his reins. Hawks is used as a sacrificial pawn by his handlers and forced to investigate the league of villains.Hawks acknowledges this, bows, and does what he thinks has to do for his goal.

What does this say about hawks he was never free was never given a free choice? This has a much more deeper meaning.

Hawks is self-sacrificing by nature; perhaps too self sacrificing.His self sacrificing nature is going to rear its ugly head.

During Tokoyami internship Hawks is isolated from the rest of his sidekicks being flown too fast and to show the difference what he has gone through.

Tokoyami interns with him which allows Hawks not only to get info on the USJ incident, but also shows how he sees himself in Tokoyami.

This personal moment with Hawks giving wisdom to Tokoyami: “no need for you to be on the ground.” These words reflect a part of himself that is trapped with no way out and cannot fly away.

Speaking of which, didn’t Hawk’s intern have a darkness quirk?Tokoyami who has the dark shadow quirk, which could also be a part that foreshadows his fall into villainy; the personal moment he said birds should not be confined to the ground could be another foreshadow of him flying the coop.

Hawks is a fan of Endeavor; he admires Endeavor for never giving up despite it looking impossible. This is genuine.

We seen in the way he talks to Endeavor he doesn’t know that Endeavor abused his family for the sake of his entire ambition to surpass All Might. This is going to be heartbreaking when Hawks finds out what Endeavor has done to his family for his ambition. Tragically Hawks and Endeavor formed a genuine bond; finding out what he’s done will hurt him deeply–not just Hawks but Endeavor as well. The truth is going to hurt the both of them let me point something about betrayal in writing it’s done by someone you trusted the most as it says down here:

is done by someone you trusted the most betrayal if its someone you trust.

Horikoshi plays around with symbolism seen when he first introduced Hawks. Who he in many ways is related to the Icarus theory with the opening quote: flys to fast for his own good. His quirk using feathers relates to the wax wings Icarus had.This is seen again when Hawks gives Endeavor his feathers to fight being burning up resembling

Icarus wings when they melted from the sun. There’s an interesting detail about about Endeavor: his super move being “prominence burn” came from solar prominence. Endeavor could be the metaphorically “sun” to the theory. Hawks will burn if he gets to close to Endeavor;the whole “flying too close to the sun” would refer to how Hawks becomes too close to Endeavor.

If he does, Hawks will find out the truth faster than anyone, and if he found out the truth what Endeavor has done he will get burned. The fall could mean his fall into villainy and Dabi could have something to do with it

Let’s  talk about Hawks’s character. Hawks is very carefree smiling and joking with the situation even joking around with Endeavor.He doesn’t take things too seriously when in reality he is surprising hardworking and diligent.During the Hood attack, Hawks managed to remain cool-headed in the crisis shown to be very calm in stressful situations not panicking when things got worse. Hawks is sharp and quick on the uptake, catches on faster than anyone noted by several characters. Hawks is an info leech and good at reading at people like when he works he is looking for information and he’s observant and his able to think quickly giving him the ability manipulated the situation based on the people’s characters.

Something I would like to point out about Dabi.Dabi was put in charge of the raid pulled of the forest mission.I pointed there’re a lot of holes in the plan in my post yes the plan may have a lot of things to point out but despite the forest raid only suffering three casualties and things he did not predict he completed his objective he completed his objective in capturing Katsuki.Dabi didn’t only pull off the summer camp raid he also helped the league of villains in making UA take a huge blow to its reputation hero’s protecting its own students.

Dabi achieves the same thing with Endeavor who recently became number one.He send a high end nomu Hood, a nomu stronger than the others on Endeavor succeeds in severely wounding endeavor this started to cause people to question the security of the hero society in question. Dabi drove Endeavor and Hawks into a corner. Even Hawks was greatly unsettled by this.

Hawks was the one that Dabi notified about the nomu Dabi threw Hood on him and didn’t tell him that he is stronger.He set the hood nomu in a heavily populated area of the city knowing full well that hero always save the lives of others first to further drive the heroes in a corner.Dabi manipulated the situation one that Hawks didn’t predict, Hawks who is perceptive and observant was run over by Dabi. Dabi pulled all this over Hawks’ head.Dabi is the only person who gets under hawk’s skin  Dabi is the one who made Hawks lose his cool.

Here are things you need to note about Dabi. I mentioned that Dabi is not unintelligent; I stated before in his stats. Dabi’s good at seeing through people this is seen with Snatch, Eraserhead, even Shoto. During the forest raid mission Dabi distracts the pros from the league’s true objective: Dabi was keeping the heroes on their toes while the plan proceeded.

He knows what makes people tick goes under people’s skins and uses that to his advantage.He attacks when they don’t retaliate like with Endeavor and Hawks weakened after the fight with hood, as seen with Snatch when he used “hero always save the lives of others first”

he identifies Snatch’s weakness.

He noticed that the rational Aizawa is fierce and asks if he’s gotten unders his skin:

Dabi knows that Aizawa cares about his students leaving behind a cryptic message which visibly unhinged Aizawa.

Dabi taunts Vlad, anticipating his reaction and saying that he voicing completed his objective while driving the rest of them in a corner.

Dabs ran both Hawks and Shoto in circles. Shoto is very powerful,quick and smartest in his class, known to be very agile, yet Dabi catches Katsuki in front of him.

These attacks are done by Dabi. He pulled off two successfully He. led two of the major operations that put the league of villains in the spotlight. Dabi would is one put the league of villains in the spotlight Dabi might really have a big effect on the media as a whole. Despite his success and failure of the last two attacks he was really good at doing what he is doing. Despite being called weak he could be one of the most dangerous members that’s how deadly he is this demonstrated just how ruthless Dabi is as a villain.

What does that half to mean for the media attention for Dabi? Well in the meta liberation arc Himiko doesn’t want to be pitted by others she wants to live life her own normal way:

She never wants to die and be painted as tragic figure. Himiko doesn’t want to be used for media attention especially for the meta liberation’s army motives.

Himiko’s backstory would not be seen as sympathetic I mentioned in of my posts. it won’t work since her backstory is far from sympathetic it wouldn’t be justifiable just be picked apart by critics why more quirk restriction. The meta liberation army tried to use Himiko to show the truth but unfortunately she’s not painted as a tragic lead that the meta liberation is going for as Himiko is not a sympathetic figure.

Dabi and Himiko are foils when they are first introduced:

Dabi seems to have the flare for the dramatics seen in the beginning of the forest raid standing on top with his opening speech.

with Vlad he talks about how the league of villians already completed the objectives with abudting one of their students how the loss of faith will spread like wildfire all the while pinned down.

While talking to Snatch he’s happy that he got media recognition for his burn murders:

Dabi seems to be happy that he is getting more media recognition for his villainy. Himiko’s story would not garner sympathy, but Dabi’s will. Which would make his reveal being Endeavor’s son turned villain exposing Endeavor is going to cause public outrage. His story would have more media attention than Toga’s; Dabi could be painted as sympathetic, not Toga.

People said that Hawks is going to find out about Dabi’s identity; here’s the thing” he won’t.As I mentioned before Dabi ran Hawks in circles he knows something that he doesn’t and he holds something over Hawks’ head that and Dabi is incredibly ruthless he knows how to get under people’s skin. Dabi is going to spring this on Hawks in a more dramatic and unexpected way. Also Hawks’ entire situation is that he’s trapped :exploited and used since his childhood.

Hawks would be integral into finding out that Touya is Dabi in the theory. His bond with Endeavor would also serve as a focal point for his character. This would be very great narratively speaking for a hero becoming a villain. Dabi would be the one who is responsible for his fall by revealing that he is Touya Todoroki and Endeavor’s abuse.

This is why I believe Hawks will fall into villainy and why I don’t believe in the death flags but him falling into the darkness. Thanks to cutisayble that brought up this theory and allowing me to talk about it.

[scullyy]

Through My Eyes

Pairing: Clem x Louis

Word Count: 1660

Summary: After having a horrid nightmare, Louis distances himself from the rest of the kids. To them, it's nothing new. For Clementine, she's determined to get to the bottom of it.

A/N: Long-time no see! This is based off an ask I received a while ago where an anon asked me to write a one-shot where Louis has a nightmare and remains closed off from the rest of the kids. I really wanted to explore Louis's family here and how they impacted his self-esteem/how even one thing we hear as children can leave a lasting impression (and yes I’m just gonna give the characters the last names of their VA from now on). I hope you enjoy :))

-

Stop.

For one minute, he just wanted everything to stop.

It always began with the nightmares. At least once a week they would crawl into his head, attacking him at his weakest point. Sometimes they were about his family and the divide that he caused, other times they were about his long lost classmates, calling out his name yet he could never call back. After experiencing death and decay since childhood, they all lined up and repeated themselves like tracks on a broken CD. The same horrid imagery that once rendered him frozen in his tiny bed now only gave him a headache.

But he certainly wasn't ready for the darkness to turn his ray of sunshine - Clementine - into a monster, a physical form of every evil sensation, a vessel that his darkest thoughts could escape through.

Her voice didn't even sound like her. It wasn't soft like the tone she took to in the early mornings, wasn't strong whenever she listed off instructions or even delicate like the beautiful words she would share with him before the two would depart to bed. No. Whatever had possessed her was shrill. Each word she threw his way was like an icepick to the heart. "Better wake up before I die Louis. It'll be your fault if I do."

Louis pressed the same two keys over and over again. A and B and A and B. His thoughts held a new weight to them now that they had slithered out of Clementine's mouth. "She's gonna think you're crazy if you tell her about the dream. Everyone else does."

Stop.

He hated it. It gurgled in every part of his body, rendering him quiet and weak. Since the dream something within him was pushed to avoid Clem, pulling himself away as if she were a deadly addiction that no man or woman could survive through. "Besides, who would want to deal with me..."

-

His present didn't go unnoticed by her. How could it?

Clementine paid no attention to the fresh soup in front of her. "He's been avoiding me for almost five days now, there must be something wrong."

"He has nightmares from time to time, we all do, I wouldn't worry too much about it." Aasim directly informed her without blinking an eye. All the other kids shamefully nodded, silently admitting that they had no idea how to fix him.

Everyone hears the jokes, the piano but after that, they stop listening. You didn't.

Clementine slammed her wooden spoon down onto the table. "I'm gonna go talk to him whether he wants to or not." With great haste she made her way to the admin building, her body jolting every time Louis hit a wrong note. He never made such crude mistakes, not so many times in a row. Soft swears echoed along the hallway, she would have giggled had they not been coming from a place of obvious sorrow.

She gently pushed the door open, wincing at the obnoxious creak it made. So much for subtlety.

"Clem?" Louis quickly fixed his poor posture as she hopped into the room. "What, uh, what are you doing here?"

Her face fell at his attempt at normalcy. After years of being lied to, witnessing people go behind each other's backs, Clementine was near immune to lies. "You haven't spoken a word to me - or anyone - for days. I'm worried."

That word...worried. He heard it come from her so many times before, yet each time it simply rolled off his shoulders. "I just have these nightmares sometimes and they really fucking suck. They all start with this thing my grandmother told me when I was a kid, never really shook it off." 

He was only small. Too small to see over the edge of a table as his grandmother stood high above him, looking down upon him as if he were the cockroaches within her kitchen. "You were born a Sulieman, that is your birthright," His grandmother spat the name through her pursed lips, ashamed of her own heritage. "That is your burden."

The Sulieman empire, fucking over one person at a time. His hand had been dealt, time for his turn to bear the brute force of just how lost his family truly was.

"I didn't get it at the time, till I got older and it just...hit me. Like I was starring down the barrel of a gun my whole life, cluelessly wondering what was inside it, until the bullet got me and I wondered why I spent so long searching for what was inside," He was spilling over as if his heart was a cup that cracked beneath the weight of life itself. "When I could have paid more attention to what was around me, to what mattered." Louis merely shrugged at his words. Deep down he knew that Clementine would listen to him, willingly. She could help to mend whatever ailed him without fail. Like she said, she truly worried about him.

But how could it be true? A girl as level-headed and strong as her, worrying about a selfish boy such as himself...why? "If only you knew just how much of an idiot I was, you would clearly be disappointed."

"That's not true-"

"Yeah, it is. You're a goddamn idiot. Everywhere you go you destroy something. You can never save anything, can you? Of course you split up your parents, what else would you do? That's why Marlon's dead, that's why no one ever listens to you. What are you going to do to Clementine? What about her asshole-"

Stop.

His growing doubt stuffed his ears with prickly cotton, blocking everything except his own little voice biting back and forth at himself. He never thought it was possible for someone to lose to themselves, and yet here he was.

Clem's demeanour hadn't changed, except her eyes appeared more watery than before. "Louis, seriously what's wrong? What did you dream about?" Her palm caressed his cheek with such delicacy he almost broke right then and there. With what little energy he had, Louis swallowed the expanding lump in his throat, along with the vivid imagery playing behind his eyes every time he closed them.

“I was standing, in the woods. You were leaning against a tree that had no leaves on it, you looked clean and tidy. Suddenly you...you just started screaming. Your jaw was unhinged. Then you blamed me, for everything. One by one the trees died till it was just you and me.”

He didn't need to cry though, countless nights had been wasted that way. There was nothing but dry guilt that clogged his throat, dragging him deeper into older memories. Memories of seeing old friends ripped apart from their bones, feeling the tether between him and his best friend etch away like fog on a grim evening. If he dived in too deep, would he be able to get back out?

Before she had the chance to fight him, which she usually did in situations like these, he intervened. "Clem...do you..have a voice in your head? I mean, one that constantly talks over you, again and again, saying that you're worthless. Am I..." He didn't want to be alone in his madness. Was he mad? "Crazy?"

Her brief silence was nearly the thing that pushed him off the edge, till she moved in closer to the piano, her fingers tracing their intimate carving. Seems like yesterday it happened.

"All the time."

Louis wasn't entirely sure why he was shocked, he turned to face her completely, giving her his undivided attention. Hearing her mutter a somehow shame-free 'yes' untied the knot in his chest. "You do? You seem to always have it together."

"Gotten pretty good at hiding it, I've had to ignore my doubts to stay alive, keep AJ safe," Louis helped her to the seat, he always left a small space for her in case she ever came in. She always did. "I often wondered if I was doing right by him, if what I was doing was helping him or hurting him. But at the end of the day, I just had to trust myself and hope that I was doing a good job."

Louis scoffed, a welcoming return to his normal attitude. "I think you did better than just a good job." No one else could have done what Clementine did, she did it with such grace and patience, that's what he loved so much about her.

"I could easily say the same for you. Louis, dream me sounds like a bitch, you're amazing."

He immediately looked away from her, blocking off her words of praise. Louis couldn't move very far before her poised hand gripped his chin, forcing him to look into her amber eyes.

"You are a wonderful guy. You're kind to everyone here, you're a great role model for AJ and as far as boyfriends go you pretty much take first prize," She loosened her grip on his skin, letting her thumb draw small circles over his cheek. "You make everyone here, especially me, feel better every day just by being you."

They sat together in pure silence for a while as the last of Louis's thoughts melted away. For the first time in days, he smiled an ever so blissful smile. "Hey, Clem?"

"Hm?"

A faint sigh fell from his lips as he felt his heart mended itself, just as it always did around her and just as it always will. "Thank you."

[lovelykhaleesiii]

My Crush

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!Reader

Words: 2075

Summary: After Y/N becomes a permanent resident as a ghost in the Murder House: she witnesses Michael grow and mature, leading to something of their first time...

Warnings: mentions of murder, fluff, SMUT, oral receiving (girl gives guy) & fluff :) , short time jump (***)

REQUESTED BY - ANON 

“ Hey, first of all your blog keeps me going, you are so goddamn talented. I've had an idea floating around in my head after I saw a gif imagine thing and I feel like you'd write it perfectly (If you're still taking requests of course). Basically it's something along the lines of Michael's first friend & crush being a ghost in the Murder House and him losing his virginity to them. You don't have to make it smutty but if you can that'd be cool. You can change some of the plot to make it work :) ” 

A/N - AHHH thank you sm for the kind words, I really appreciate it xx so sorry for the delay lovely, but here it is! Hope you enjoy it xox 

Michael Langdon, the mysterious boy next door who had spontaneously grown to become your best friend. He knew who you were, or more so what you were…A ghost. You’d passed many years before Michael was even born: murdered by your own unforgiving parents. The house had driven them mad, enough to have persuaded them into believing you were some kind of threat. And there you were, your body left to rot beneath the depths of the house, with your parents unrelentlessly leaving behind the entirety of the house and their lives, away from their crimes…It seemed reality bit them back, and their guilty conscious could no longer bear the reminder the house held, nor your ghostly figure.

It was there that the previous ‘deceased’ owners of the house had now become your family: growing accustomed to their ways, that was until the Harmons had moved in.

All Hell had broken loose, and you decided best to avoid any interaction with the family, besides their youngest daughter Violet, whom you had grown close to. It was through them, right to the end of their humane lives did you witness Michael’s birth.

Constance was right…He was a beautiful boy. And yet, a part of you saddened that his family had all perished, you were relieved to hear, he wouldn’t be raised in the ‘Murder House’, it surely was no place for any child, despite knowing exactly what Michael was…

Although, you still continued to watch over him, grow into the little boy he was: always finding him standing outside of the house, peering through the window of the second floor, where you stood happily waving to him. It was only then, did his curiosity and bravery take the best of him… Going against his grandmother’s wishes, he entered the house himself, wandering through passing by each ghost until he’d found you.

The only exchange made was a series of smiles, aand Michael reaching to hold your hand. It felt pure, you believed from then on, that innocence resided in him: it was just a matter of time until he’d choose to accept it. Although, your meeting had come to an abrupt end, with Constance barging through the room, instantly picking him up in her arms, hastily trying to escape before any harm could come his way.

After that, you’d hardly seen Michael, each day growing worried that something terrible must have happened, or perhaps Constance had finally relieved herself of her attachment to this place, only to seek out a new town, a new home for Michael to grow. It pained you, although if it was for the betterment of Michael, it was all you could’ve asked for and more.

That was until, the creaking sound of the front door had swung open, except for the Harmons and Tate, all the ghosts had begun crowding around, intrigued as to who possibly would have bought the house now…And there he stood, an adolescent boy, who seemed just a few years older than yourself, you felt a sense of familiarity towards him yet couldn’t pin point who it was exactly…

“Y/N” He whispered, his voice broken, as his eyes having travelled from ghost to ghost finally locked with yours.

“M-Michael?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, realising that it had only been a few months since you had last seen Michael…This was all too impossible.

“Yes” He sighed, a bright smile growing on his face, with relief oozing from his body.

“Wha-What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, stepping closer towards you, reaching for your hand to hold: and instantly you’d remembered the first time you’d met…The little boy that he was no longer existed.

“I-I mean…You’ve grown!” You chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, not wanting to startle Michael who clearly showed no realisation of his drastic transition.

“It was my father!”

Nodding in agreement to his words, you’d only come to realise that his mannerisms were still that of a child…You knew that no explanation or conversation would aid him to understand, so you simply went along with the situation.

Each passing day you found, as Michael had become a regular visitor to the house, ‘only for you’ he’d shyly admitted, you noticed how rapidly he’d matured mentally, simply overnight.

You were perplexed yet impressed: you’d grown to become quite fond of him just being there. Your conversations changed drastically, from talking about video games, to discussing your previous life, and secrets.

He was a good person, no matter how many times Violet tried to persuade you differently, constantly reminding you that he was literally the spawn of Satan, you simply wouldn’t budge.

With Michael now, you just couldn’t see eye to eye with her: he was different to what everyone made him to be, especially around you. He was a good person, and that’s all that mattered.

And today was the day, Michael would prove just that.

***

“Y/N, I’ve been wanting to tell you something, something that’s been eating me up from inside.”

Anxiously seating himself up on the couch beside you, you knew something was up from the moment he arrived that evening. You both had organised to watch a film, one you hadn’t seen yet since technically, you just couldn’t leave the house. Throughout the entirety of the film so far, Michael seemed rigid, more silent than usual, and for most of the time, he was the talkative one.

“About time-” You sighed, directing your body to face him completely.

“it feels weird seeing you like this!”

“Y/N I-I have something to say, something that I’m hoping we both can agree on. Something I hope won’t change what we have…”

“Just spit it out, Michael” You plea, your impatience growing thinner by the passing second.

“Y/N, I think I may just have a crush on you...I think-actually- I know I have. I just feel like I’ve known you my entire life, and just being here with you right now… I wouldn’t ask to be anywhere else. This feeling is overwhelming for me, but I can’t deny that it is love...”

You froze, stunned by the words he so confidently blurted.

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t ever thought about it, the fact that you’d grown to fall for Michael. You were always too distracted by your fleeting moments with him, since his visits were always just him sneaking around before Constance could find out. It never really hit you, that you were indeed in love with Michael, until now.

Was it your fear of rejection, or that you simply were just too oblivious?

It no longer mattered now, he loved you this entire time and that was all you wanted to hear.

“Michael, I-I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that…”

Witnessing the growing smile on your face, he knew instantly that you were it… You were the one.

It may have simply just been a ‘small crush’ for him, though his next move proved that wrong.

The feeling of exhilaration, as his lips crashed down against yours, his hands gradually snaking their way up your thigh and onto your waist, you knew this was it.

He was a boy in love, and you were just a girl in love, both with each other, and this was the moment that would prove just that.

His body began to tower over yours, his hands pushing you to lay down against the couch.

It was Michael’s first time, just as it had been yours and it most likely was your only time. And yet, it was special.

“If you don’t want to-”

“No, no, of course” You breathlessly uttered, your lips slightly parting from his to agree to continue. You weren’t about to lose this moment.

Feeling his dick growing against the restriction of the fabric of his pants, protruding right againt your cunt, you felt an ache between your legs, wanting more.

His movements pacing themselves, feeling his body grinding against yours, your breasts squashed against his chest, you ached for skin to skin.

“Off...clothes” You whispered, and instinctively he knew. Kneeling himself above you, his arms stretching above his body, to remove his shirt, with you squirming below, to remove your dress. Unhinging your bra, you were prepared for Michael’s touch, just as he was for you.

Instantly, you both resumed to action.

This time however, you pushed Michael once again to kneel atop of you, as you fell from the couch, kneeling on the floor.

At first, he looked utterly puzzled, before your hands laid atop of his knees, travelling down his thighs, before unzipping his pants.

Thrusting his hips up, for you to lower his pants and boxers, did you instantly lean forward, not wanting to waist precious time.

Your mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock: a slight moan escpaing his mouth from the foreign, erotic sensation.

“Fuck.”

The deeper you engulfed his dick, the louder the moans had become, sounding more like grunts. His hand grabbed yours that rested on his thighs, gripping you ever so tightly.

“F-Fucking amazing, Y/N.”

You’d never seen Michael tremble as much as he did just then. On the verge of spilling anything, feeling his dick moisten to your touch, the way your mouth circled around his dick, massaging it plenty, causing him to grow ever more, expanding the walls of your mouth beyond their capacity. It was only then, you finally released.

Climbing back unto the couch, your legs bent upwards and completely opened for Michael to enter… It was all you pained for at this moment.

“In me…” You eagerly utter.

His lips smoothly nibbling your neck, leaving trails of wetness and goosebumps, you found yourself craving for more.

And just as you’d wished, feeling the sudden, painful thrust of Michael’s manhood inside of you, felt both painful and beautiful.

“Anything for my, Princess.”

His thrusts ever so sloppy and fast-paced, you felt ecstasy like never before. His lips now pecking your exposed breasts, you felt them perking and hardening against his touch.

“Am I making you feel good, Princess?! Hel playfully growls, as his dick continues protruding inside of you, growing in excitement and size… It felt unreal. You simply had no ability to formulate a response, moaning in silence, before hastily nodding in agreement.

“So fucking tight! Fuck!”

Your walls you felt, were indeed clenching around his dick tightly, each time he hit your clit directly, you screamed his name. The feeling of his throbbing dick against your vagina, you felt your immensely satisfied.

“Michael!”

“Say it again… This time louder, baby!”

And with perfect timing, in tune to each thrust, deeper than its previous, you screamed for “Michael!”

“I’m about to cum” You breathlessly retort, as your juices oozed from the sides of your cunt, drenching your thighs completely.

“Do it Y/N… Cum for me.”

Once again, in that exact moment, by his exact words, your cum had drenched his dick completely. The warm wave of your cum, triggered him to release a slight, disgruntled growl, as he tried to keep himself composed.

Yet, within a few passing moments, you felt your insides completely drenched, the pure combination of both your juices and Michael’s was exquisite, and like no other.

“Fuck me, baby… Look at the mess we’ve made.”

His comedy, causing you to release a slight, exasperated laugh, feeling his lips roughly stroke against yours, as your sweating bodies, radiating with steam, collide immensely. His thrusts became slower and much more sloppier, and yet still eventful.

Feeling each other in every way possible, the intimacy between you two was extraordinary, before simultaneously deciding to release one another. Just as he did, you felt his hands wrap around your waist/back, lifting and turning you to the side, just as he laid beside you. Your head rested against his shoulder, as his lips planted one final, heartfelt kiss of the night: you knew this was just right.

“That was amazing!” Michael exclaimed, ever so breathlessly that he was inhaling a breath of fresh air after every word.

“Agreed!” You chuckle, your hand slowly reaching over his bare, sweaty chest as your fingers began to smoothly trace over it.

“So I guess, I’m more than just a crush, huh?” You arrogantly implied, diverting your attention from his broad, heaving chest, meeting him eye to eye.

“You sure are, and I’ll make sure you know that now and always, my angel.”

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