#Heard Master of Puppets and took it literally

[djosephqueery]

Sometimes you have good serious drawing ideas, and sometimes you gotta draw the brainrot as puppets.

Thank you @corrodedcoughin for indulging (and enabling) my nonsense, that second drawing was ripped right from our dms (screenshots under the cut)

[entirelysein-e]

『 Tentacles 』

☼ synopsis: Mahito loves to experiment on you simply because you let him - loving how he pushes past your limits and pleasures you beyond belief.

☼ character: Mahito

☼ wc: 2.6k

☼ cw: DARK CONTENT! fem!reader, afab!reader, sub!reader, slapping, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bondage, tentacles, choking, throat fucking, spitting, humiliation, degradation, penetration with tentacles, anal, overstimulation, womb fucking, squirting

☼ notes: I'm bringing this cursed piece back because I miss my skrunkly rat 🫡

Mahitos eyes went wide when he saw the way you were looking right at him instead of through him like everyone else. He knew right that moment that you will be his, if you want to or not so he gave you a silly grin while waving at you. Talking to him was so easy, he would always have interesting topics to discuss for hours as time flew by whenever you two hung out, always listening to you, always agreeing with you without making it too obvious but before you knew it you were craving his company. You fell so hopelessly in love with the man who did nothing but sweet talk you, luring you in and giving you a sense of being heard and seen along with this false sense of security - his plan worked. He's not a master of manipulation for nothing, not even surprised that you were seeking out his attention all the time, almost addicted to it like a lost puppy.

The fact that he wasn't human didn't even surprise you when he broke the news to you, already aware that he was a little different from your average man but you never once minded, finding it quite appealing actually. Mahito’s lighthearted attitude along with his dumb jokes never failed to make you smile, always pushing you to your limits or having you be the butt of the jokes. It was playful banter to you, an experiment of how far he can take it for him. Testing you… you were never more than just an experiment to him, while you called him your boyfriend in such a loving way it always amused him. Your giggles lit up his heart but he wouldn't admit it, blaming it on everything but you. He's a curse after all, made out of hatred… he can't love.

It was just a question of time until he took these little experiments into the bedroom though and before you knew it, you found yourself pushed far past your limits but his sweet encouragement in your ears made it bearable. “You're taking me so well. Just a little bit more, cupcake” he chuckled and rubbed little circles on your clit to distract you from the almost unbearable pain he caused with his slaps to your thighs and ass - skin painfully sore to the point where it's bleeding. But you were his good girl, his perfect little human, you didn't want to disappoint him so you took everything he had to give despite your cheeks being stained with tears. Seeing you this broken, eyes all red and puffy from crying and far out of your comfort zone got him hard like nothing else, knowing he had you in the palm of his hand like a little puppet he can control made him feel invincible. The orgasm that followed was earth shattering, little slaps to your over sensitive clit gave you a high like never before after getting edged for hours on end, drooling on yourself and the bed beneath from the exhaustion and barely noticing how Mahito cleaned you up with utmost care, bandaging the wounds he caused before kissing each of them. “Can't have you breaking from this… you did so well for me” he praised while wrapping you in a fuzzy blanket and cupping your cheek to prevent you from moving while he kissed your forehead with a tender kiss. The collar around your neck jingled when you moved to cuddle up to the curse, a tired smile spreading over your lips at the reminder that you're his and he is yours - your name carved into his soul and there to remain.

You didn't need to know that even if you ever used the safeword, he wouldn't stop. It just existed to give you this false sense of security but worry not, he would never quite literally split you in half. Mahito was so much sweeter with you than with any of his experiments before, adoring you for the way you wanted his love so badly, how you humiliated yourself just to get some words of praise from him. All you were to him was a little project to study humans on, liking to see your reactions to various things and how you seemed to mind it less whenever he encourages you, how the unbearable pain suddenly became bearable with simple praise never failed to make him laugh, how desperate you cling onto his words to guide you out of it and towards your sweet reward for being such a good little human to him. He could own you and you would thank him for it, making him feel like a god.

This was your mistake - trusting him to never take it too far, that he's doing this for your pleasure rather for his curiosity but this mistake is what made you end up in this delicate situation. Your hands were tied behind your back, a spreader bar preventing your legs from closing as Mahito manhandled you onto all fours, a sickenly sweet smile on his face when you just let him move you the way he desired, not thinking much of this since he does this a lot. Your eyes locked for a moment while he caressed your cheek with his hand until something changed…

You tried jerking your head away when you felt these cold and slimy appendages slither over your cheek instead of his beautiful slender fingers you loved to feel on your body. “Hold still now, bunny. You don't want to get hurt… or worse, now do you? He asked in a playful tone, letting his fingers - now tentacles slither over your face and neck. Tears started forming in your panicked eyes, the sensation of tentacles on your skin new and frightening when they slowly started choking you. Mahito was laughing menacingly as he watched a fresh wave of fear mixed with disgust wash over your face when one of the appendages slithered over your lips which you pressed into a thin line. “You need to open that little mouth of yours… or i might let them go through your nose” He hummed in amusement, proving his point by letting one of them move towards your Nostril. Your head was shaking violently from side to side, panic increasing as your tears streamed down your cheeks in thick streams now and he sighed, one tentacle pushing into your nostril to let your know he was serious while a look of disappointment started forming on his face - His once so obedient little human suddenly refused him.

Every single hair on your body was standing from the feeling which caused you to reluctantly open your mouth, the tentacle immediately removing itself from your nose and slithering over your lips, slowly ascending into your awaiting mouth. Your body was repulsed by it, gagging wildly at the salty taste the slime left behind on your poor tongue, making sure to rub itself all over your wet muscle so you had no other choice but to taste it. “Look at you, taking it like a good girl. Now close your pretty lips around it, treat it like my cock you love so much” He chuckled but it turned into a laugh when you were pleading him not to make you do this but Mahito wasn't asking you, he was demanding so you behaved like his good little human and did what he wanted, sucking on the tentacle as if its his cock. It took everything inside of you not to gag when you felt a second one slide into your mouth and down your throat, moans from your lover filling your ear when he saw how beautifully your throat was bulging from the intrusion until he decided you had enough, taking the tentacles out of your mouth and kissing you forceful, his tongue invading your mouth like the slimy tentacles did just seconds ago.

His face showed pure euphoria upon tasting your saliva mixed with the salty taste of his tentacles. His kiss distracted you from the way his other hand transformed now too, letting slender tentacles slither over your naked body that was at his mercy until you couldn't ignore the cold sensation anymore, crying out for him to stop but still not using your safeword, which would have been useless regardless. Mahito positioned himself behind you, your ass still propped in the air, your face now resting against the mattress. Wet tentacles slowly slithered over the globes of your ass and along your thigh, ultimately resting at your folds to pull them apart, giving your lover a perfect view of your pretty slit. “Look at you, little pet. Crying and screaming but your cunt is drenched” he mused, smirking at your miserable frame before spitting onto your core that was fully on display for him which made you whimper out of humiliation, feeling his saliva along with your juices slowly dribble down your thighs and staining the mattress beneath you. He was right - it felt disgusting and you wanted it to stop but at the same time it felt so good to be forced into submission by him, letting him do everything he wanted to your body. Unbeknownst to you, a moan slipped out of your lips when one of the tentacles slowly wound itself through your folds, missing every sensitive spot on purpose. This made Mahitos wolfish grin spread further, the tentacle stopping dead in its tracks, resting right next to your bundle of nerves. “What a naughty little thing you are, bunny. Enjoying this like a needy slut” He whispered the degradation in your ear before wiggling the slimy appendage over your clit in a barely there touch, making you cry out from the weird, yet intense sensation.

The way your juices mixed with the slime of the tentacle caressing your clit made it unbearable to you, whines and moans cascading out of your mouth in a desperate way, needing a little more to tumble over the edge than just the feather light touch but Mahito heard your prayers, the slimy appendage now adding more pressure to your sensitive clit, making your jaw slack with a silent scream. The wetness of it aided as lube, easily flicking over the nub until it had you screaming out loud in pleasure, the knot in your abdomen finally snapping and Mahito laughed at the mix of emotions on your face, pleasure and disgust when you realized just what gave you this mind blowing orgasm and that this would not be the end. Your fears were correct when you felt four tentacles play with your entrance, taking turns on slipping in the tiniest bit until two of them slithered in to spread your cunt open, opening you up for the third one. A scream escaped you, begging him to stop but it was only amusing him further, letting the tentacle grow in girth as it slowly pushed itself inside of you. You felt every nub inside of your walls and the way it wiggled inside you let you feel things you've never felt before. “There you go. Give up your little fight… accept the pleasure it brings” Mahito cooed, feeling the way you slowly stopped clenching around the tentacle, making it much easier

To slip it further inside of you, the two smaller ones which spread you open slowly joined the thicker one and stretching you further than you've ever experienced.

Your jaw hung wide open at this sensation, one tentacle pressing against your sweet spot as the other two rubbed against your walls and prodding at your cervix to give you pleasure. With your eyes closed you slowly allowed the sensations to make you feel good, another tentacle playing with your clit again had you whimpering for more, growing greedier by the minute. “Awh are three inside of you not enough?” your lover teased and slid another one back into your mouth to fuck your throat but this time you welcomed it, sucking on it like a pacifier. It muffled your moan when you felt another tentacle enter your stretched cunt, but there was no pain, the little appendage rubbing your nub made sure you're enjoying it all as two more sucked and pulled on your hardened nipples. Pure ecstasy spread through your body, moaning loudly around the tentacle in your mouth but your eyes shot wide open when you felt another small one massage the ring of muscles at your ass, slowly prodding into your puckered hole. “I can't believe you let a disgusting tentacle take your little anal virginity, aren't you disgusted by it? By yourself for feeling this much pleasure?” Mahito asked sinister as he pushed it further into your behind but you only shook your head - it didn't hurt and you the disgust was long gone. You knew he didn't mean it, he loved the way you were so eager to please him by letting him do everything to you, he would never shame you for feeling pleasure since that's exactly what he wanted, for his little experiment to discover new pleasure and the way you slowly succumb to it.

The torturous assault of tentacles lasted hours, your holes stretched and your poor body begging for a break from the continuous orgasms Mahito brought you with his newest experiment. “Give me one more and I'll let you rest” he cooed, pushing against your sweet spot repeatedly with a smaller tentacle as the thick one nestled itself into your womb, making you feel as full as never before. It was enough to have you screaming until your voice was hoarse and with a last flick against your clit he had you squirting all over the bed again, taking one tentacles after the other out of your abused cunt until only one remained on your clit along with the other inside of your behind. “I need to see you break, bunny. Think you can cum again just from this?” He asked, nibbling at your neck while one of the slimy appendages kept rubbing your clit as the other one thrusted into your puckered hole. Your head was shaking violently, overstimulated to the point where it started to be painful but you still didn't use the safe word and allowing him to continue with this torture until he had his fill from seeing you cum over and over just from the anal penetration until you passed out.

You don't know how long you were gone but your legs were aching, your holes sore which reminded you that this wasn't a nightmarish wet dream - it really happened and you felt like crying when Mahito pulled you closer into his arms. “Did we go too far today, my bunny? Does your tiny body need a break?” He cooed in a fake sympathy but you still appreciated his care, nuzzling your face into his chest to return to the safe space in his arms. You knew he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't, at least not physically. “You did so well for me today… such a good girl. My perfect little human” he whispered as he played with your hair, hoping you can fall asleep soon since he already cleaned you up while you were unconscious. Mahito may be a curse created out of hatred, unable to love but he felt something towards you, something that runs deeper than just his curiosity - your name was carved into his soul after all.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[ravencincaide]

A second chance at life 

Summary:  You were done with life, done with being trapped and abused. But it was just your luck that you’d try to take your life on the borders with Port Mafia territory. And that there’d be an executive who had opinions. OR the time you found out that not all Mafia are heartless bastards. 

Pairing: Suicidal reader  x Chuuya Nakahara 

Raven’s Special prompt: “Hi Raven, I'm the same anon that asked for the Chuuya x fem reader where she's abused and runs away, I forgot to add that reader is poc (brown skin).” 

Warnings: Dark content with triggers, proceed at your own risk!

This fic contains: suicidal reader (who’s making an attempt- jumping), hint abusive-manipulative past/family, Cursing & mature language, Chuuya comfort/help, I think I didn’t miss anything.. i hope. Hope this brings you comfort and that you enjoy~

“ Oj don’ even think about it; I ain’t got any fucking wish to waste man-power on cleaning up civil splatter” 

You froze in your spot; your hands automatically re-grasped the safety bar of the rooftop,  keeping you upright and steady on the edge you were just about to leap off of. “ W-What?” you asked as you turned your head to the right, towards the stylish ginger haired man who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Instead of trying to talk you down from your suicide attempt however he just proceeded to light himself a cigarette. He took a deep drag of it before he pointed towards the ground below. “ The fucking ledge bottoms out onto Mafia territory. You jump- my men gotta clean that shit up” he answered in the most unbothered tone anyone could master as he took several steps towards you in warning. Something told you that even if you were to let go of the bar, he’d reach you quicker and pull you back to safety than you could accomplish your goal. Then he’d no doubt hound your ass for ignoring him.

You did not have the energy for all that drama. But you didn’t know what to say to him. You were so tired of life; of being a bother. A burden to everyone around you. Not good enough for anyone- in fact it was better if you weren’t around. But were you selfish enough to cause him more work? You glanced back at him; took notice of the dark rings below his eyes. The paleness of his skin made him look almost sickly. A powerful yet exhausted man. “ Sorry” you mumbled as you moved your body into a sitting position in defeated surrender. It seemed you were incapable of even dying right. Silence lingered for a while- you thought he had finished up his cigarette and left. Instead you heard him light another one somewhere above you.

“ So, why aren’t you trying again elsewhere? Packing your shit and getting away from whatever’s driven you up here?” You snapped your head up to face him but he wasn’t looking at you. His body leaned against the railing, his focus onto the city below. An unreadable expression on his face. 

You scoffed at him. “ Please, where the hell would I go? I’m penniless and unlike those pretty white chicks, I won’t get a job overnight. Even as an escort” you didn’t bother saying that your family held onto your payslips with no chance for you to gather even a little bit of savings. You were literally trapped under their control- a puppet to be pushed and pulled at their every beck and call. “ Ehh so you think it’s easier for ‘em?” He sounded doubtful yet curious. “ I know it is,” you answered somberly, “ It took me a year to get the job I have now- had to beg an old classmate for her to recommend me. Still I’m the lowest paid among all my other colleagues with the same title and less experience. And get reminded daily that if I don’t like it, I'm replaceable.” You sighed and rested your head back on top of your knees. “ ‘round here it’s hopeless and I got no money to go elsewhere” In your eyes, you were trapped with no reasonable way out. It left you with suicide as your only option. Your only hope. And even it was stripped away from you, leaving a dull numbness in your body. A defeated surrender to your fate. Silence lingered for a while longer as he finished his cigarette and lit himself another. Clearly not denying your words as if understanding both the said and unsaid implications behind them “ You willing to work hard?” he asked suddenly. You snapped your head up and fixed him with a determined look. “ Harder than anyone you know.” you promised in a heartbeat. You did not care to know what his offer entailed. After all, what did you have to lose? Your enthusiasm amused him. It prompted the man to stretch a gloved hand down towards you. You stared at it for a long while before you finally rested your fingers in it. The leather was cool to the touch, his grip strong as he pulled you up to your feet in a single tug. He shifted his hold and then shook your hand, as though you two had just reached a deal. A mutual agreement. 

“ Well kiddo I got an idea what the Port Mafia’s gonna do with you.” he smirked a boyish grin. An action that should have filled you with dread, but instead, you felt hope. A ray of light amidst the suffocating darkness “ Port Mafia?” you asked instead making him bark out a laugh. “ Damned right. From now on you’re Port Mafia property, and I, Chuuya Nakahara, am your boss”  

Author note:  Sweden is placed in the top four for racial equality IN THE WORLD Still those with non Swedish sounding names get significantly less callbacks for job applications than those with Swedish sounding names. Of those called to interview, how many get rejected because of accent/way of pronouncing words, skin colour or religious expression is something we’ll never know. And the thought of what and how it is in the rest of the world just shows what a cruel, unequal and sad world we live in. Truly it is a heartbreaking reality we exist in. This fic tried to portray that while adding a tiny bit of hope that only Chuuya could gift.. Hope it served its purpose.

Liked this work and want to see more? Check out Raven's masterlist for more stuff to read! ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[blooming-violets]

💔 heart break headcanon

I sat with this ask for quite a few days now. I thought it over whenever I went into my daydream world. I had about fifty ideas come and go but none stuck like I wanted.

Until tonight thanks to this picture of Andrew:

Time for some modern day, superhero Romeo and Juliet.

Let's do this!

Wilson Fisk, New York City's most powerful businessman, infamous crime lord, one of the most feared men in the state, mayor of the city...or as you like to call him...dad. He has his hands in every inch of this city and puppets it to his will. His extensive wealth is spent on spoiling his wife (your mother), Vanessa, and his only child (you). His businesses activities were not exactly something that was hidden from you. Both parents made it clear that danger followed your father wherever he went. You knew he was into shady business. One doesn't get power and wealth like he has without stepping on people on the way up the ladder.

Your life was spent inside a protective bubble. Privacy was not something you were used to. Armed guards followed you wherever you went, your internet activity was heavily monitored, and you were never allowed to have friends.

Your childhood was spent by your mother's side instead. She home schooled you, took you to museums, and gave you as much knowledge about the world as she could. She instilled her love and appreciation for art into you at a young age. Lucky for you, the city was crawling with art museums. The first place you were ever allowed to go alone (as alone as you could get with two body guards trailing behind you) was to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. It became one of your favorite places. Your happy place.

On this particular evening, you were wondering through the MET, making a straight line towards one of your favorite pieces of art work. Tonight, there was a young man standing in front of it. You pushed up beside him to admire the work together, craving any kind of human interaction you could get.

"Isn't it beautiful?" You asked him. "The Dissolute Household. Jan Steen is the master of creating the perfect depiction of domestic chaos."

The man turned his head to look at you with curiosity. His face was scruffed with stubble like he'd forgotten to shave this past week. He wore a red beanie to hide the overgrown, greasy hair poking out from under the brim. Dark bags deepened his bright brown eyes. He seemed to take in your outfit in comparison to his own. You were well dressed and put together, perfect posture, not a single hair out of place. The epitome of wealth and class. Meanwhile he looked like he shuffled in from an overnight bender and couldn't remember how he ended up in the museum but was just going with the flow to not draw attention to himself.

He gave you a weary smile, "I wasn't sure why I stopped at this one but I found it hard to look away."

"Steen is good at holding the observer's attention because there is so much to look at. That's him, in the painting, and his wife. It depicts a variety of sinful acts happening. He's lacing fingers with the maid behind his wife's back, his wife is clearly intoxicated, a bible is being trampled on the ground, there's broken bottles and food strewn about, someone is warding off the beggar at the door. Chaos and merriment all around. And above all of them hangs a literal basket full of future misfortune like a terrible fate hovering over their heads. The items in the basket promise poverty, disease, and bad luck. Steen enjoyed painting commentary into his work. Everyone always looks so happy amongst the chaos even with the darkness of reality hanging above them."

You never had chaos in your life. Everything was controlled and quiet.

The craziest thing to happen to you was when you were 13 and your mother woke you from a sound sleep. The two of you had to evacuate the house into a private helicopter and be flown to the airport. You heard shooting happening in the hallway as you ran but you never actually saw where it was coming from. The two of you then spent the next year in a beautiful home in Sicily. When you were finally able to return back to the city, your father had set up new, stricter measures of security. No one ever told you what happened that day and that kind of thing never happened again. Despite being terrified in the moment, it was the most excitement you'd ever experienced in your entire lifetime. Sometimes you longed to feel that again.

"I never really looked at art too deeply before," the man mumbled. He was quiet, speaking as if he was in a library, afraid to be scolded by a rude librarian. "At least not paintings. I'm more of a photography kind of guy."

Whoever he was, he was attractive in his own grimy kind of way. You found yourself wanting to lean in closer to hang onto every word he spoke. You'd never had a boyfriend before. Once you flirted with one of the younger guards assigned to you. You hooked up with him in a coat closet at a fancy party. That was your first and only time being intimate with someone. When your father found out, that guard disappeared from your life. You liked to pretend that he was just let go and fired but you knew the darker truth. That man was no longer alive.

You wanted to know this new stranger even with the threat of death hanging over his head. You needed excitement. You craved the idea of having someone to love. So, you introduced yourself. First name only. Last name's were off limits. He smiled. It was a nice smile. And told you his name was Peter.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening wondering around the museum together. You insisted on showing him all your favorite works. He would listen intently, like he really cared what you had to say, while you over explained every little bit of knowledge you had on each piece. You could tell he was hyper aware of the two men following behind you everywhere you went. Even if they were dressed in civilian clothes, it was obvious they stood out as your personal bodyguards. It was even more obvious when you leaned in extra close to Peter while he unleashed his own knowledge about a particular old photograph you two were staring at and a gruff, pointed cough echoed out behind you, making you immediately jerk back and take a step away from your new friend. They may be here to keep you safe and out of trouble but they were loyal to your father, not to you.

Before you left for the night, you made plans to meet Peter back at the museum next weekend. He asked for your number but you refused to give it to him. Not yet. If you wanted to see him again, you would have to do it carefully. Slowly.

It took two months of weekend museum visits before you worked up the courage to tell your mother about him. You were certain that the guards assigned to you had already informed your father you were meeting a friend every Saturday night. You wouldn't be surprised if he had full intel on every detail about Peter Parker's life neatly stacked into a binder in his office. No one mentioned it to you though so you never brought it up. Until now.

Peter had asked you out to dinner. Up to this point, the two of you had never left the MET property. That was your safe place but you both wanted more.

Bringing up the idea of dating had to be run by your mother first. She was the more reasonable of your parents. She valued romance, loyalty, and love. If anyone could help get your father on your side, it would be her.

It was over dinner in your shared penthouse apartment that you brought it up. Just the two of you...and the security standing outside the room.

"How did you and daddy meet?" You asked, keeping your tone casual.

Vanessa smiled at the memory, "You know this story all too well. I used to tell it you as a bedtime tale when you were a girl."

"I know but I want to hear it again."

"He wandered into my gallery one night. He was very entranced by a particular painting I was trying to sell. The one hanging up in our bedroom. Rabbit in a Snowstorm. I found him standing in front of it, quietly taking it in, and I knew I needed to know more about him. It takes a certain kind of man to appreciate a painting like that."

Funny how her story mirrored so similarly to your own. You pushed your food around your plate with the end of your fork as you hesitantly brought it up, "I met someone. At the museum. He was standing in front of one of my favorite paintings. We got to talking and next thing I know, we've explored the entire building. Head to toe. Every inch of of the place. He seems like an amazing person, mom. He loves listening to me talk about art and I love hearing him explain all the details of photography. I feel like we're on the same wavelength. I want to see more of him. He asked me out to dinner but I told him I would get back to him. You know how daddy can get..."

Vanessa sighed, studying your face and seeing a lovestruck, desperate look gazing back at her. You could tell you won her over with the story of your first meeting. She knew you were in your twenties and never had a chance to date before. You couldn't stay locked in your tower forever. "What's this man's name?" She asked.

"Peter. Peter Parker. He lives in Queens with his aunt. He's been helping take care of her ever since her husband died a bunch of years ago. He's compassionate and kind. He cares about other people. He had a really good heart, I can see it. Please, can you talk to daddy about it. I can't stand the thought of trying to get close to someone only for him to hurt them. I can't let him hurt Peter for being interested in me. That's not fair. I really want this to work out. Please, pretty please, will you talk to him."

And she did. With his begrudging blessing, you were allowed to date Peter.

Peter knew limited details about your life. He didn't know who your parents were or your last name. He just knew that you were the daughter of someone important and that you two needed to be careful. Strangely, he took it all in stride. He never seemed nervous by the fact he was always surrounded by loaded guns or constantly being watched. The potential danger hanging over his head never once phased him. You weren't sure if he was naïvely stupid or just really brave. You liked to think that he didn't care as long it meant he got to stick around you.

He was definitely in a different social class from your family. Peter didn't grow up with wealth. He'd never even left the state of New York before. That shocked you. Your mother and you loved to travel.

You upper class lifestyle was probably the only thing that ever shook him. He seemed to fidget and get uncomfortable the more fancy, high end places you brought him to. He preferred things to be more low key. You'd never stepped foot inside a McDonald's until he brought you there after a date to get McFlurrys. It was surprisingly delicious even if the floors stuck to the bottom of your feet as you walked.

The longer you two spent together, the more you fell in love.

Six months in, you decided it was the right time to tell him more about your life. You were sitting on a bench in the middle of central park. You liked this spot because the men following you had to stand further away and it put you two out of their direct ear shot.

Peter held your hand, his thumb brushing over your palm. You laced your fingers through his.

"I have something to tell you," you both spoke at the exact same time.

After a pause, the two of you broke into laughter.

"You go first," he offered. "Mine can wait."

"Did I ever tell you who my father is?" You knew the answer was no but you asked anyway.

He shook his head and shrugged, "I figured he was probably some politician or something. Someone important. That's why you always those guys following you. They keep you safe so that makes them alright in my book."

You nodded, "Yeah, I guess so. It sucks having them around but I guess they're useful if shit goes south. My dad is Wilson Fisk, you know, the big, giant business man and current mayor of the city. That's why those guys are always around. I thought it was probably time you knew since he invited you to attend our family dinner this weekend. He wants to meet the man I've been spending all my time with."

Peter tensed. He tried to play it off like he wasn't bothered but you noticed. His shoulders hunched and his back stiffened. You watched his jaw clench together and quickly loosen again as he forced a smile.

"Mayor Fisk, huh? He's your father? I didn't even know he had children." His voice was strained.

You slowly nodded, carefully taking your hand out of his grasp to place in your lap, you didn't like the reaction he was giving you. Something was wrong. You glanced over your shoulder to the guards a few few feet away just in case you need their help. "...Just one kid. Me. He likes to keep his family separate from his work and the public eye. There are bad people in the world who want to hurt him so he keeps my mom and I off the television and news as much as he can."

Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek. His shoulders still hadn't relaxed and he refused to look at you. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Tell you what? That my dad was the mayor? What does it matter to you? It's not something I go shouting off the rooftops. It's not a big deal. I'm not the mayor. He is."

"Not a big deal?" He gave a stiff, dry laugh. "Do you have any idea the kinds of things that man has done? Your father has caused me-" He cut himself off with a heated grunt of annoyance.

Your brow furrowed and you leaned away from him, "What are you talking about, Peter? Why do you have anything to do with my dad?"

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, obviously thinking better of whatever he was planning on saying.

Tears welled up in your eyes at his reaction. You expected him to be mildly shocked or maybe even nervous about having dinner with the mayor but you didn't expect him to get angry as if he had a personal vendetta against your father. Even if he wasn't shouting at you, you knew what silent anger looked like. He was fuming.

"I don't know if I can do this," he huffed, still refusing to look in your direction.

You gave a soft gasp of shock, "What are you talking about? What are you saying?"

"I'm-" he glanced back at the the men who were still oblivious to the conversation being had. "I can't. I don't want to be associated with anyone who ties themselves with Fisk."

"Associated?" You voice heightened, causing your security team to take an interest in what was going on. You quickly lowered your voice again to ward them off. "The only way I'm associated with my father is when we have the occasional family dinner when he can spare the time."

Peter scoffed, "Yeah, right. You'd have to be stupid to not have any idea what shady shit he gets up to? Human trafficking? Drug trafficking? Weapon trafficking? Murder? Anything illegal, take your pick, and Fisk has his hands over it."

This was news to you. You assumed he got his wealth through shady business deals and backstabbing his opponents. You knew he had hit men who would kill for him if he asked them to. Maybe you just never wanted to think too deep about it. Your silence was all Peter needed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just can't."

He got up and walked away, leaving you silently crying on the park bench.

You made up an excuse for why Peter couldn't attend dinner with your family. You smiled and kept the sadness out of your face. Even though he hurt you, you knew what crying to your father would mean. Your heartbreak wasn't enough to risk his life over. You weren't your dad. Revenge and violence wasn't in your blood.

And maybe Peter was right. As you sat across from your dad at the table, you couldn't help but wonder how the rest of the world saw him. You wondered if your mother knew. She had to. They were in this together. You felt like a stranger in your own home. These people you knew all your life were no longer covered by their masks.

A week passed before Peter found you again. It was late at night. You were in your bedroom when there was a knock on the balcony door. That was unusual due to the fact that you were over 50 stories in the air and the balcony had no other entrance besides your bedroom.

You looked over, the bright lights of your room making it impossible to see out into the blackened night. You slowly stood up from your desk, your heart racing, as you grabbed a pocket knife from your drawer. You couldn't see anyone out there. It might have been a bird attempting to fly in the dark. You unlocked the door and stepped out into the crisp night air with your knife held at the ready.

There was no one.

You were alone. Your arm slumped back to your side, the knife loosening in your hand. Just as you were about to turn around to go back inside, chalking it up to your sleep deprivation, the presence of a body lowering behind you made you jump. Before you could let out a piercing scream to alert the guards, a heavy gloved hand clamped over your mouth. This was it. This was how you die.

You struggled against the mass pining your arms down but it was solid. You were no match for the intruder. A hushed voice whispered in your ear.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he hissed. "Stop struggling and I'll let you go. By the time you scream, I'll already be two blocks away so I'd rather you not try it. I'm here to talk."

It was Peter's voice. You had no idea how he got up here, your mind was going a million miles an hour, and you nodded. His grip around you loosened and you pulled away, whipping around to face him. Except that you weren't face to face with the Peter you knew. The sight of Spider-Man standing before you made you almost scream but you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth.

"Wha-" you stuttered out. "Peter?"

"Can I trust you?" He asked.

You weren't sure. If there was on thing your father hated, it was vigilantes. He'd go on long rants over his hatred of people like Spider-Man and Daredevil. They were the bane of his existence, always throwing a wrench in his plans.

The more you thought it, the more obvious it was that he wasn't a good man.

You nodded, making up your mind then and there, "Yes. I won't tell a soul."

That night Peter revealed his truth. It was a hard pill to swallow. The poor, disheveled man from Queens, your first love, was your father's sworn enemy.

You had many doubts. There was no way those two men could ever be put into the same room with each. Your family and Peter could never mix. You two stood on opposite ends of the equation.

But you didn't want to give him up.

And he felt the same.

The relationship progressed as normal and you vowed to stay out of whatever your father or Spider-Man had going on. That was not your concern. Peter wouldn't ask about him and you wouldn't ask about Spider-Man.

But that knowledge always hovered over your heads. Once the truth was out, there was no way to reverse what you knew.

You were the key to tipping the scales. You could destroy Peter Parker and Spider-Man by snitching to your father. Or you could destroy your family by feeding Peter private information.

There was only so long you two could pretend to ignore the obvious.

A time would come when you would have to chose between love or family. There could only be one winner in the battle between good and evil.

And, which ever way the scales tipped, a piece of your heart would be ripped out and buried alongside the loser.

AND I'M GOING TO STOP IT HERE because it's getting too long for something that was supposed to be simple headcanons. I'm very sleepy and have not proof read my mad ramblings so please excuse any forgotten words or mistakes. I'm tired old lady just trying to do my best.

[deathsplaything]

Auld Lang Syne || Alistair & Zofia

TIMING: New Year's Day LOCATION: Out and about, then at Alistair's apartment PARTIES: Alistair (@deathsplaything) & Zofia (@zofiawithaz) SUMMARY: Alistair and Brutus run into a familiar face, and Brutus refuses to leave Zofia's side. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

It was a somewhat off day. It had been a busy holiday season between being understaffed at the tea shop and random walk-ins from those who needed his other services. He had been at Melody’s house and decided to walk home with Brutus leading the way, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth, happy as could be. It was getting darker to the point that he didn’t need the sunglasses for light sensitivity but kept them on to hide his scars. It was New Year’s, and Alistair had resolved to walk around town more. Might as well start today, he mused. 

Suddenly, Brutus took off, practically dragging the necromancer. “Brutus, what’s going on?” Alistair yelped, eyes comically wide behind his sunglasses. Brutus had caught sight of a familiar face and took it upon himself to drag his owner to greet Zofia. Brutus sat down before the woman, wagging his tail with great fervor. 

Frowning, Alistair quickly took on his familiar’s eyes, only to see the vampire that had attacked that innocent man in the alley. Instantly, the necromancer was on edge. They hadn’t exactly ended on good terms. “Sorry about him. Once he sees someone he remembers fondly, he forgets that he’s working.” He hissed the last part down at Brutus, clearly annoyed. “I’m sorry, I’ll… be on my way.” He attempted to tug Brutus by the harness to get him back in order, but the dog let out a low whine. Brutus wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted: pets. And treats. Lots of treats.

Alistair threw his head back with a groan, a bit melodramatic. “Brutus, you’re killing me. We’re halfway to home.” For his part, Alistair harbored no intentions of controlling the woman again. Hell, he’d hated doing it once. “Brutus, please.” The redhead begged his dog, who remained an immovable object. “Right, then.” Alistair dropped the harness from his hand and crossed his arms across his chest. “Guess I’m stuck here.”

New Years had been… Well, at the very least Zofia had thought it was nice to salute the past year with her middle finger and send it off straight to hell with whatever drinks and dancing Dance Macabre would provide her with, and whatever debauchery she could find in the arms of others in the wee hours of the new year. Now that the revelries of the past evening were in the rear view,  it was… quiet. A peaceful silence that Zofia found herself uneasy in. There was a clean slate of a year ahead of her. A clean slate where things could finally begin to look up. Or perhaps, the universe would decide she could still fall further to absolute rock bottom. 

She rubbed at her eyes, the previous night's makeup still smudged there as she walked back to the room. She wouldn’t call it home. Calling the room that Cassius had tucked away in his house for her felt wrong. She couldn’t explain why, exactly. Only that Zofia felt like it tasted like a lie. Bare feet softly padding along on the chilly concrete of the sidewalk, the vampire walked along with her heels in hand. Then she heard raised voices and stumbling. 

Zofia tensed, eyes whipping around to find the source, to assess the threat- only to see the same sweet creature from weeks before ambling toward her, heedless of the necromancer he dragged along behind him. A tight smile crossed her lips as she took half a step back, prepared to flee into the night and get as far from the would-be puppet master as she could. But if she did that, Brutus would likely tangle the man in his leads, and literally drag him after the escaping vampire. She sighed, what little remained of her conscience telling her to stay put, and let the dog say hello. 

“Apologies.” She muttered, noticing the way he tensed upon realizing who his guide had brought him to. Zofia let her hand hang down in front of the dog, hoping he’d catch her scent and be satisfied, and the pair could go on their way far, far away from her. 

But Brutus sat firmly on the sidewalk, unwilling to follow instructions until he got what he wanted. The vampire sighed, stopping further to scratch the dog between his ears. “You shouldn’t come to play when you’re on the clock, kochanie, you know better.” Zofia said to the gentle beast. Her eyes shifted to the man, trying to assess if he’d trap her for the offense. “How do I get him to let you leave?”

———

Alistair gave a crooked smile as the dog wagged his tail, whacking it against his leg. “Nothing to apologize for.” He shot back, shaking his head. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him. “Listen, I…” He trailed off, realizing she probably didn’t want to hear it. Still, it would at least get it off of his chest. “Having you around, my magic instinct felt like it was poised to go off at any moment on you. I didn’t want that.” He frowned, realizing that explaining himself was a hell of a lot harder than he thought it would be. 

“Having you leave was the only thing keeping you safe from me.” He finally said, eyes falling downward as he realized what a danger he really posed to Zofia. “As for how to get him to go back into work mode, I really don’t know.” Alistair admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He hasn’t done this before.” He further explained. Attempting to tug on Brutus’s harness to no avail. 

“I think he just likes you that much.” He surmised with a shrug of his shoulders, hand rubbing his chin. “You can try and leave, but I can’t promise he won’t follow you like a baby duckling.” Alistair let out a tired sigh, not liking the idea of being stranded in place because his dog decided to go rogue. “How many treats did you feed him, anyway?” He then asked, brow raised in suspicion. “He’s acting like you hung the moon.”

_

She stood unnaturally still as he started to speak. There was no giant circle of carefully crafted spell work ready to ensnare her on the street. Zofia knew better than to think herself safe. Her skin prickled with the memory of invisible strings ensnaring her, pulling her back. Trapping her. 

But it was an apology. Coiled muscles slowly relaxed as she studied him. Was this part of some game? Some ploy to lull her into security again? Brutus grinned a silly dog smile up at her. That didn’t seem to be the case, based on the pups reaction to her. 

“And does that make me safe now?” The vampire asked, still prepared to run. Zofia couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t lie, but she hoped she could tell. She could at least believe that the working dog didn’t make it a habit to drag the man across streets to greet random people. 

“If he follows me like a duckling, he’ll drag you into the street,” Zofia sighed, crouching to pet Brutus. She pressed a kiss to the dogs nose, which earned her a lick on the cheek. She let out a soft snort of laughter. “You are supposed to be working, kochanie.” The dog snuffled at her pockets in response, hearing his owner mention treats. “Not that many… he wasn’t working when I gave them to him.”

———-

The necromancer held up his hands in the air, no tricks or hidden things up his sleeves. “I promise you’re safe.” Alistair spoke, knowing that for some, those words held weight. He never spoke them lightly. Brutus gave a soft huff as the two spoke, satisfied with the kiss he received to his nose. There was something teething Alistair in place that he couldn’t quite name. Something he was afraid to address. 

The truth was, Alistair could easily get Brutus to listen to his command. All he needed to do was speak in Scottish Gaelic and the dog would obey. But for whatever reason, he’d decided not to. “Well clearly he’d rather belong to you,” he huffed as he ran a hand through his red locks. “Would you like me to walk home without eyes?” He asked Brutus, who was content to lay in between the two. 

The dog only licked Zofia’s hands in response, which caused the redhead to throw his hands up in the air after removing the glasses from his face, revealing the burn scar that covered his face. She’d already seen it once, there was no reason to hide it again. “I don’t make a habit of controlling undead that have a mind of their own.” He began to say, knowing he had to explain himself. “But you were killing that man, and I panicked. I was scared that if I interfered without it, you’d go for me next.” The amber eyes darted about, not knowing where to focus their unseeing gaze. 

“Then you stepped into that circle, and I felt the control beginning to take its hold. I had to push you away. You weren’t safe.” Alistair bowed his head, eyes drifting to the ground beneath his feet. “I understand if you cannot trust me anymore. I wouldn’t trust me either. Nothing good comes from necromancy, trust me.” The latter half of his statement was more of a whisper of shame, he hated who he was. He hated that of all the areas of magic, he’d been forced into the one that controls the dead. He was no better than a monster himself. Realizing himself, Alistair threw his glasses back onto his face, the scar fading away. 

_

He promised. She wanted to take him at his word. She really did. Zofia kept one eye on his hands, trying to track any movements and if they meant anything. Brutus seemed to trust her, at least. And the dog was easy to trust in kind. Animals were simple creatures to understand. Their motivations were clear. Kindness and food and comfort and safety. That was all they looked for. She could respect that- relate to that. Even if she didn’t trust as easy as the dog did. 

A soft huff of laughter rumbled in her throat as Brutus licked her in response to Alistair’s question. Zofia tried to give the dog a disapproving frown, but the corner of her mouth drew up in a small smile. The smile faded quickly as Alistair resumed talking. “I thought he was someone else.” Her voice was cold, devoid of expression. She tugged her coat tighter across her shoulders. “What would have happened to me, if you hadn’t let me leave?”

_______

Thinking about her question for a long moment, Alistair frowned. “I’m not a hunter.” He answered simply. “I would have taken the man away from you and made a run for it.” It was the truth, he realized with a deep frown. “I’m in the business of helping people as much as I can. Not hurt more than I need to. Leave that to the professional idiots that hurt people for money and because they have a ‘calling.’” 

Alistair didn’t think much of hunters. He didn’t think much of anyone, if he was honest. He only thought of those who needed healing and those who were past redemption. He found that most people weren’t past redemption. Zofia wasn’t. Once, the person who needed healing brought in their own sacrifice. It presented a lot of questions, but in the end, they’d paid him a lot to keep him quiet. So he’d done it. Having Melody with him made things easier. She wiped the minds of victims and clients alike. 

“Brutus, I think Zofia would appreciate it if we left her alone.” Alistair said to his dog, who simply groaned and rolled onto his side. “Are you serious?” He spoke to his dog as he realized Brutus only got more comfortable. “Fine. Be that way.” Alistair waved a dismissive hand at his dog before taking a careful step forward. 

_

“Professional idiots is putting it politely,” the vampire rubbed at her wrists absently. It had been months, but she still felt the ghost of her restraints there. “I took him to the hospital.” Zofia didn’t know what had happened to the man afterward. She hoped he had survived. He hadn’t deserved the fate that she’d reserved for those who had done her wrong. 

Alistair attempted to get Brutus to go, but the dog seemed far too content with Zofia. She kept her hands away from the dog who snuggled up to her, hoping he’d decide to go back to work. He only cozied further up to the vampire, who watched as the necromancer attempted to find his way home without a guide. 

Zofia frowned, clucking her tongue at Brutus, and pointed at Alistair. The dog had the good sense to look remorseful, but still was reluctant to rise. Zofia sighed and quietly walked toward the man, watching as Brutus followed her. She scooped up his lead, and placed it silently back into Alistair’s hand. 

———

“Yes, you did. You proved me wrong, which I’m glad for.” Alistair responded with a nod of his head. “I’ve worked with slayers in the past. Some of them have their head on straight, some of them are overzealous killers with a bloodlust for people that just aren’t as human as they’d like.” He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly he was overall indifferent to hunters and monsters and the fighting that went on between them. “When it comes to who I take, I take those who don’t have redeeming qualities. I usually get them from monsters and hunters alike.” 

Alistair paused for a moment, then let out a tired sigh. “Aidan Gallagher. He sustained severe bloodloss but managed to pull through.” He was silent again, then shook his head. “I checked for you.” He then added, realizing he should probably explain why he knew that information. “Don’t ask my sources, I won’t give them.”

As soon as Zofia began to move, Brutus groaned as he got up and began to trot along side her, but swiftly sat down again the second she stopped walking and Alistair continued. This caused the redhead to stop in his tracks after being kept firmly in place by the harness lead that had been placed into his hand. “Oh fer feck’s sake…” the necromancer grumbled out, finally having enough of his dog’s misbehavior. “Brutus. Leighis.” He commanded with a frown. 

Brutus’s ears quickly swiveled at the command, and the dog begrudgingly followed the command. “Oh, stop your whining.” Alistair complained to the dog, who began to lead him in a circle, back directly in front of Zofia. “He’s led me right to you, hasn’t he?” Alistair asked with a raised brow. “Well. Seems like he’s dead set on making sure we be stuck together. I don’t think he’ll let you out of his sight, quite frankly.” Alistair narrowed his eyes, looking down to the ground. “You wouldn’t happen to want a dog, would you?” He asked, giving a threatening gaze in the direction of Brutus’s panting.

She nodded. Zofia could respect that. She could respect a moral code. She had been trying to implement one for herself with her new habits. If she was going to feed directly from the source, she found it easier to reconcile with sinking her teeth into those who were at the very least assholes. It was easier to forgive herself if the people she fed off of could stand to be knocked down a few pegs. And I’m doing so, she could try and make the world a little bit better, as penance for the unhinged monster she’d been those first few weeks, that beast that still lurked in the corners of her mind. 

She stood as still as the grace at the sound of an unfamiliar name. She’d never heard of Aidan Gallagher before that moment, but Zofia knew exactly who he was. The woman let out a long hiss of a breath that she’d been holding since she’d realized what she’d done that night in the alley. “If I’d,” she began, pausing as she contemplated her words. “If he hadn’t pulled through, would you have come after me?” By his own set of rules, he should have. Alistair should say ‘yes, if he died, then you killed him, and you’d be fair game.’ “I won’t hold it against you, if the answer is yes.” 

She watched, trying to stifle quiet laughter as the dog utterly rejected his duties and merely walked Alistair in a large circle, before Brutus sat right back down in front of Zofia. The dog looked up at her happily as though to say ‘Look, I’m back! It’s time to give me a treat!’ She tried to force her expression back into its usual, carefully neutral expression, but the dog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as he grinned up at her goofily. “I think if he was stuck with me, he’d hate it fairly quickly. I can’t play outside during the day when all the other dogs are out” 

It was abundantly clear, though, that Brutus was not leaving without Zofia. The vampire sighed, shaking her head. “I could walk with you, just until you get back to your flat. I think if you’re home and I disappear, he’ll forget about me quick enough. Especially if you give him one of those peanut butter biscuits.”

——————-

Zofia asked a good question, but Alistair knew his answer immediately. “No. I wouldn’t.” He was genuine, and his eyes looked directly at her, though they looked more through her than at her. “I know your story. I know that there’s a person in there that fights for freedom. The people I take, they’re not like that.” He dropped Brutus’s lead again, letting the dog snuggle into her side. “The people I take have no humanity left in them. They’re past redemption. You’re not past redemption. You’re scared and trying to survive. I don’t need to have eyes to see that.” He didn’t know why he was being so honest with her, why he felt a vulnerability with her. It was stupid, is what it was. 

Alistair sighed, then nodded his head. “Yeah, fine. Walk with me.” He gestured for hand, knowing that she would be a far better lead than Brutus was being. “He’s usually so good. Maybe he sees you and forgets himself. The whole world doesn’t matter.” He let out a wistful sigh and took hold of Brutus’s lead, who began walking the second that he knew that Zofia was coming with. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke up again. “I really am sorry.” He spoke, his words cutting through the tense silence with a knife. “You have every right to be terrified of me. I could fully control you. But I don’t want to. I’m not… my family. They would control you. I’ve always been the black sheep in that regard. I hate it. I hate that I’m good at it.”

_

A soft laugh escaped her as the dog shrugged off his duties once more to cozy up to her. It made the words less jarring when she thought about them. She wasn’t past redemption yet. A day would come when humanity would slip like smoke between her fingers, and she’d be more beast than anything else. That day hadn’t come yet. She was still herself, still Zofia, no matter how changed that woman was to past iterations of herself. 

She looked down at the hand he extended to her. Recent history told her not to accept it. She shouldn’t let anything that could have power over her close enough to have a conversation, much less close enough to touch. But the New Year's celebrations had been a swath of bad decisions on Zofia’s part. Drinks, and kissing people she’d met moments before, and finding herself in the bed of a perfect stranger who could have easily been a threat to her. Holding a necromancer’s hand as she guided him home seemed relatively innocent compared to those choices. She hesitantly slipped her hand in his. 

She snorted, stooping to scratch the dog’s head. “I used to have that effect on people, but I’m certain it’s the first time I’ve had a dog enamored with me.” She continued on in silence, following the path she vaguely recalled to his apartment. Zofia mulled the words over. “You’re hardly the most frightening thing I’ve encountered.” She decided, choosing not to elaborate further. “You have a conscience. Not everyone does.”

———-

A smile broke across Alistair’s face at being told he wasn’t frightening. “I don’t know, my face is pretty terrifying.” He retorted with a soft chuckle. “My conscience is the reason I’m not controlling an army of the dead.” He wrinkled his nose at the idea, then shook his head. “Like what would I even do with that many dead people? What am I waging war against?” He rolled his eyes as they walked hand in hand, finding it easy to trust that she was leading him to the correct destination. 

Brutus was watching the pair as he walked alongside Alistair, almost as if he were trying to decipher a puzzle he didn’t quite understand. “Do anything fun for New Year’s Eve?” He asked to fill the silence. “More fun than playing Monopoly with a 12 year old? And letting said 12 year old kick your ass with the dog?” He wiggled his brows as he turned his head in her direction.  

__

She snorted a laugh at his comment about his own appearance . “You really must be blind if you think that’s true.” Zofia thought a moment as they strolled along. “I’m not certain exactly. You would probably be well prepared for a history themed trivia night with an army of undead at your disposal.” The vampire quipped with a wry smile. 

The smile turned to a smirk at his questions of how she’d spent her New Year’s. They’d been fun enough, she thought. There definitely would have been worse things to do to ring in the New Year. “Just went out and pretended I was alive with some of my very dear, closest people I have never met before and will likely never see again. Revelries extended through the day.” Her eyebrow ticked up. “How badly did you lose?”

——-

The necromancer scoffed at her comment, acting affronted. “You doubted my blindness for a second? For shame.” Alistair admonished the woman by swatting her arm before taking her hand again. He then thought of the idea of a team entirely comprised of undead from different periods of history. “You know, you could be onto something there. But I think you should make the trivia team, not me. I think most undead would run at the sight of me.”

Alistair smirked at the idea of going about celebrating New Year’s eve in such a way. “You know, I did that a lot in my younger years.” He told her with a soft chuckle. “When you’re single and eternally youthful, you might as well, right?” He shrugged his shoulder at her question. “Well the little bastard cheated, so of course, I went bankrupt.” He told her with a wink. “Nah, I let ‘im win. Didn’t buy any of the properties I should have. Let him have it.” 

As they walked into Oldtown, Alistair became familiar with the sounds, even in the middle of the night. “You want to come up?” He asked before he could realize what he was asking. “I mean, if you want to.” He cleared his throat, letting go of her hand as he made for the door of his apartment. “No pressure.”

“I’d be horrible on a historical trivia team.” She laughed. “I lived it, and I probably could do about as well as your run of the mill university student taking a history class as a gen ed.” Zofia laughed. “Though I did have fun with it. Once on a dare I pretended to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia - back when absolutely everyone was convinced they’d found her… poor thing.”

She made a noise in feigned offense and rolled her eyes. “A lady never kisses and tells.” The vampire reached down to pet Brutus once again, as though he would come to her defense. “But I do agree. Always have. Perks of being young and newly dead with a bunch of open minded French vampires who are far older than you ever thought possible.” Enjoy life for all it has to offer you. The voice whispered to her on the wind, and she shivered, pulling her coat tighter against her to shield from the memories of those she’d lost. 

Zofia raised an eyebrow. “You’re inviting me up for a night cap?” She was keenly aware of what had happened the last time she entered that apartment. She hesitated to do so again. But the necromancer seemed different this time, and she’d be lying to say she wasn’t intrigued. 

——-

“You’d be better at it than me, and that’s what counts.” Alistair quipped back with a nod of his head. “I wasn’t exactly schooled in traditional things. Parents were more concerned about making sure my siblings and myself were the best of the best at everything. Extreme homeschooling with a dash of actual fun.” He made a face at the memory. Gods, his parents were awful. “Some people shouldn’t be parents,” Alistair spoke sourly.

As she questioned him, Alistair decided that was absolutely fair of her. “I guess I did.” He replied as he pulled a face. “Is that a bad thing? You don’t have to. I understand if you didn’t want to.” He shrugged his shoulder as Brutus sat at the door to the elevator. “Though if I’m honest, I don’t think he will let me get up there without you. Seriously, you sure you don’t want a dog?” He raised his brows, pointing down at Brutus, who was whining. “Honestly, it’s like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him,” Alistair complained as he abandoned his dog and made for the elevator. “You feed a guy for three years, and suddenly, he turns his sights on the pretty woman that enters his home. Unbelievable.”

Zofia paused, thinking about it. Was it a bad idea? Most likely. Especially since there was a giant magical circle that could spell out her certain doom hiding beneath his living room carpet. Or at least that was what she assumed the spell did. She was quite certain she did not want to find out. 

But the lingering sentiment of fuck it, it’s a new year danced around her mind. So what if the end of the last year had been horrifically, devastatingly bad. This one was off to a riot of a start. “Well he would be the only one to consider me that.” Zofia patted her leg in a motion for the dog to follow her. “He’s your dog. I don’t think he’d really enjoy life with me, anyhow.”

———

As they entered the elevator, Alistair smirked and pressed the button for his floor. “Nonsense,” he responded with a wave of his hand. “You party and go out and find a bite to eat, you give good treats. What’s not to love?” He reached down and ruffled Brutus’s head. “Isn’t that right?” He told his dog sweetly, earning a tail wag that whacked against Zofia’s leg. “That’s what I thought.”

He fished the keys out of his pocket and inserted them into the lock, then opened the door to his apartment. “Make yourself at home,” Alistair told her before removing Brutus from his harness and putting it on the wall hook. Brutus, for his part, continued to look up at Zofia with his wide brown eyes, waiting for her to walk into the apartment and not back out his life. Curious, Alistair glanced through his eyes and then rolled his own in reaction to seeing that his dog was staring up at Zofia like she hung the moon. 

“She’s not going anywhere for a second, you big softie.” Alistair groaned to his dog as he headed for the makeshift bar he kept on the side of the room. “What can I interest you in?” He asked, pointing to his array. It wasn’t much, but there were a few whiskeys and bottles of red wines.

Zofia snorted, shaking her head. “The ‘bite to eat’ would be the complaining party.” Brutus’s wagging tail seemed to dismiss the argument, making it abundantly clear that the dog cared only for the vampires ability to give him treats and head scritches.

She clung to the edges of the room. She didn’t want to get any closer than she had to to the carpet she knew hid the spell circle. Zofia dropped down into a squat to be on the same level as Brutus. “Now, you have to be a good boy and listen to him. Or I won’t visit. Or bring you treats.” She scolded, stroking the dog’s nose. “He depends on you. You can’t follow me around, even if it’s very cute.” 

She glanced to where Alistair had gone, her eyes flickering over his assortment of bottles. “Whatever you’re having sounds good.”

———-

Pulling out two short glasses, Alistair poured whiskey into them and then picked one up and held it out in front of him. “Here,” he spoke to the woman who was clearly occupied with admonishing his guide dog in the most unscolding tone the spellcaster had ever heard. “I dunnae think that tone of voice’ll get through to him.” Alistair remarked before picking up his own glass and taking a drink from it. 

“So how's it been? Keeping out of trouble?” He asked, free hand crossed across his chest. “Reindeer break into your dwelling space yet?” He took another sip, thinking to the chaos that was unfolding on the streets. At least it wasn’t all goo anymore, however. 

Alistair snapped a finger, then pointed in the direction of Brutus’s dog bed. “Theirig dha do leabaidh,” the man commanded with raised brows, which caused the dog to let out a soft huff before tromping toward his bed with a wagging tail. “That’ll teach you to misbehave,” he grumped with a roll of his eyes. 

_

“It’s not my fault he’s sweet. I can’t yell at him. People are much easier to yell at.” She said, moving to take the glass of whiskey from him. Zofia took a sip, letting the liquor burn down her throat. 

“I’ve not eaten anyone, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Zofia sighed, tapping a nail against the lip of her glass. “And no, not to my knowledge. But I’m hardly there anyhow, so perhaps a reindeer has moved in in my absence. Is that a common issue people are having? Reindeer trespassing?”

She watched Brutus walk away to his bed with a begrudging huff. “What did you say to him. The poor thing looks offended.” She laughed as the dog stared across the room, forlorn. 

_______

Alistair took the sunglasses off and rolled his eyes. “Hm,” he hummed in response. “Sweet until he’s faced with something that pisses him off. Like walking away from you without trouble, apparently.” He finished the glass and put it down into the bar cart before walking over to the couch and sitting down. 

“Hmph. I don’t care what you do with your dietary needs.” Alistair waved a hand dismissively, crossing a leg over the other, leaning into the cushions. “Yeah, reindeer everywhere. Luckily none came to the shop yet, but they aren’t leaving so there’s always time.” He raised his brows and widened his eyes. It was only a matter of time from the way he saw things. 

“I told him to go to bed!” He responded with a laugh. “He misbehaves, he gets sent to bed. He knows the rules.” He sat there for a moment before smirking. “Isn’t that right, Bruce?” He called out to the dog, which earned a sharp bark in response. “See? He knows.”

_

“Sorry Brutus, I don’t think you can keep me,” she called to the dog from her spot, leaning back against the door frame. She huffed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t quite buy that line. “No? Your shiny spell circle under the carpet says otherwise.” Zofia understood she was a threat. Even if she had no real fighting training, she was still strong. Still willing to fight like a caged animal if she needed to. He needed his fancy spells to ensure she didn’t decide she liked the idea of him bloodless better. 

“Maybe the fact that you have a dog is deterrent enough for the reindeer. Maybe Brutus has them spooked.” She shrugged, taking another sip of the whiskey. “And I think he was rather well behaved for going to his bed. Maybe if you gave him a treat for doing so, he’d stop following me about.”

——-

The spellcaster slunk into his seat a bit more, shrugging his shoulders. “I care when you kill people without realizing it. That’s when I intervene.” Alistair tapped the spell circle with his foot. “Doesn’t work without me putting things down and doing magic. Just a symbol on the ground right now. You’re perfectly fine.” He let his gaze look in the direction of the woman’s voice. “Besides, I’m not in the mood or capacity to cast any spells. A bitch is tired.” He nodded his head, as if that were going to dispel the fear that burrowed in the vampire. 

“Oh yeah, nothing screams scary quite like Brutus.” Alistair muttered with a roll of his eyes. “He doesn’t get a treat for every basic task or else he expects it. Besides, he gets a big treat each night before I fuck off to bed. He’ll get one later.” He shrugged a shoulder, leaning onto the armrest of the sofa. “Maybe he wants you to be his new owner.” He turned over his shoulder. “Oi! Ye wan’ a new partner?” He asked Brutus who simply tilted his head in curiosity. 

Alistair turned his head back forward. “If you’re uncomfortable, you can leave at any time. I’m not keeping you here.” He felt the need to let her know that he wasn’t a danger. He hated that his existence set off alarm bells for people. Not just undead, but the living as well. He was a necromancer, he went against the natural order of things. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve scared someone off,” he muttered under his breath. 

_

Zofia sucked on her teeth, looking down at her hands. He may have had a point. For all the people she’d drank from, all the blood she’d spilt since coming home to Wicked’s Rest, mistaking a man for someone he wasn’t sat the worst with her. The gnawing guilt was slightly eased with the knowledge that the man had survived the night. 

Her mouth ticked ever so slightly at the way he decided to describe his being tired. She stepped away from the wall, still giving herself more than enough room for an easy out. “I still say he’d hate the living arrangements with me. He’d have to be nocturnal.”

Her eyes flickered back to the door, to the window. To each exit she’d seen and evaluated the speed that she could get to them at. “Please, don’t take it personally,” she said quietly. “I cannot think of many people I don’t look for exit strategies around. Regardless of whether or not they have the power to control me.”

—————

Alistair sat with the information for a long moment, letting the silence fester. “Always looking for an escape sounds… exhausting.” He spoke quietly, his gaze looking straight ahead of him. “I’m sorry that you feel the need to live life that way. You deserve better.” Usually he didn’t concern himself with people’s problems. Usually, he looked the other way. So why was she different all of a sudden? The question gnawed at the threads of his consciousness. 

“I swear I’ll never do it again.” Alistair spoke, head turning toward her. “I swear that, unless you turn into an uncontrollable vampiric spawn, I will never use that power against you ever again.” He held up a hand, as if he were swearing an oath. “I know my words mean very little, but I mean the truth when I say it.” 

_

Zofia shrugged. She’d quickly grown accustomed to living looking over her shoulder. She figured it was better to be exhausted than to be caged again. Or worse. “It suits my needs for now.” Was all she said. 

She took one last sip of her whiskey before moving across the space to place the empty glass in his sink. The vampire walked back toward the door, studying him and his raised hand. “Well,” she sighed. “I will just have to hold you to it.” Zofia’s hand rested on the door knob. “So I can consider you a friend now? Or at the very least an acquaintance who won’t stab me unprovoked.”

______

Thinking about the idea of having a friend outside of Melody alarmed Alistair. Sure, he talked to people and formed connections, but assigning the word friend to it was dangerous. It opened him up to getting hurt later. He stayed silent for another moment before nodding his head once. 

“Friends.” He echoed with a crooked smile. “And if you’re ever in need of my services, you know where to find me.” He waved his arms around the apartment. “Let’s just hope you don’t need them.” He then added, frowning. The last thing he needed was someone he knew getting hurt. 

He heard the tug of the door knob, then smirked. “You’re free to go.” He told her, amused that she was so eager to flee. He couldn’t blame her. He’d controlled her once, after all. “And I don’t stab people. Not unless it’s ritualistic, of course.”

_

“Friends it is,” she said softly. “I don’t plan on needing your services anytime soon. I don’t have time to get hurt again.” It wasn’t a joke. Not really. But humor colored her voice anyway.  Her hand slipped onto the door handle, and she quietly turned the knob. Zofia glanced back at Alistair who seemed entertain by her exit plans. “Ah. Well… that’s comforting, I suppose.” She said, pulling the door open. “Happy New Year, Alistair… Bye Brutus.” The vampire called, before slipping out into the night.

[youremyonlyhope]

The Giggle

Final Fourteen episode*. If I've added an asterisk it means that I correctly interpreted the vague spoiler I saw and am not happy. (Edit: Yep added the asterisk.)

Anyway. I'm just glad this means we'll finally get Gatwa!Doctor. We should have had him already.

Also forgot to put this in the last post. But. Pandemonium, the world ending, people going insane, and a Toymaker. My prediction for the plot of this episode: StarKid's Black Friday.

Sorry, all I can hear is Barney Stinson. I'm sure he did a bad German accent at some point in HIMYM. I like dolls but these puppets are creepy even to me. "Sunnier climes" OH, SO HE'S A RACIST. Hey dude. Tell Baird about the human hair before it blows up. "Imagine if it could talk." No no no. Be careful what you wish for.

Something I forgot to say much much earlier. I don't know how I feel about the intense zoom-in on the TARDIS in the opening sequence. It's almost a Torchwood level of dramatic zoom.

Very carefully not showing us Wilf's face. I wouldn't have wanted Bernard present for all this chaos either though. I'm sorry. UNIT has an Avenger's Tower now? I don't like that. I liked the Tower of London. But I guess Kate wanted to make sure they definitely didn't get shut down again. I was chanting "Slap him, slap him, slap him" as Kate walked up and when she hugged him I said "Aww" in disappointment. Oh Mel! I had been vaguely spoiled of her showing up too. RTD2, I would have preferred an Old Who companion showing up in the 60th special episode that was closest to the actual 60th, but oh well I guess I should be happy we got something Old Who at all since this really was getting close to being a purely RTD focused anniversary. "The pilot declared his right to land wherever he wanted." Greaaat. Sounds like an average day here in 'Murica honestly. "Why should I care about you?" I mean look everything I've ever seen of the Tories tells me that's just what they're like anyway. What is a Vlinx and why is it here and why do we trust it? I don't trust it. Ah. Bad idea to deactivate it for even more than a couple words honestly. So is everyone just prejudiced now? Like the racist toymaker?

TRINITY WELLS!!!!! NO WAY. NO. WAY. THEY GOT MY GIRL TRINITY BACK ON MY TV!?!?!?! THAT'S MY GIRL RIGHT THERE. I LOVE HER. Ohhhh Trinity deserves the big font for that.

I've found the one bit of RTD era nostalgia that instantly gets to me. Have Trinity Wells show up. I guess this is how everyone else has felt the last few episodes. Not even Wilf got that reaction out of me. I literally just SCREAMED "Trinity Wells!" Out loud. I can't even be mad she's spewing stupidity and is "anti-Zeedex" I am just happy to see her. That's my girl.

If nothing else comes from this episode, if I don't care about anything else, I got to see Trinity Wells again. Ok that really made me so happy just now. The Trinity Wells Show. Really showing us it's her. Ahhh I love her. Seriously I'm reacting the way I probably would have reacted if they ever acknowledged Frobisher during Twelve's era. Only Martha showing up could get a bigger reaction out of me right now. Truly that was a cameo aimed at me and only me it feels like. So like the Master's network? "It's not like the old Archangel Network." Ok never mind. Oh so Rose only came out as trans 6 months ago. I WAS GONNA SAY THAT THE CHILDREN'S VOICES WE HEARD BEFORE THE TIME-SKIP WAS MY VOCAL WARMUPS. God I need to write things down when I think of them. NOOO. I THINK I KNEW ABOUT THE FIRST TV VIDEO BEING A PUPPET OR SOMETHING. THIS SOUNDS FAMILIAR. I don't mean to be That Person but the whole human race isn't connected by Internet yet. We still got uncontacted/limited contact tribes and groups all over the place. Hundreds if not thousands of people who have never seen a screen. Oh yeah! They're President of the World!

(I took way too long searching to find that specific gif. But I love that gif so much.)

"120 plus five weeks holiday." "Done." YAS GET THAT MONEY DONNA. Also find Martha to see if she's still freelance or not. "So you talk about no one. Ever." I don't mean to quote Jack Harkness, but not if they're blonde... Doctor. You are. Avoiding. Still so much Thirteen in you. NOPE. LOL at them having to use basically refurbished still images from the lost episodes. BBC, this is only the fault of your own that they're missing. I hope you two have learned from last episode to STAY TOGETHER. Rules of play. Lawless. Hmm. So the Toymaker made everyone act like kids where the world revolves around them and only them? WHAT DID I SAY. STAY. TOGETHER. Oh no he's way too light. That was way too heavy for the Doctor to lift. Who's your mummy? Not an Empty Child reference just me being convinced his mummy is going to be someone. Oh nooooo not the "mama" and the teeth. OH RECAP TIME. Is this because they know a bunch of people skipped Twelve and Thirteen and even Eleven? Oh well. At least some acknowledgement. Still wish it was in the first of the specials but ok. "Oh, well, that's all right then." Ok look Toymaker has got a point for those three "surviving" but dying. Why only reference the Flux and nothing else Thirteen went through? Part of me is upset at no mention of the Fam and Dan, not even at least Yaz since Fourteen would have seen her only days earlier, but Thirteen had a clean track record of companions surviving so it's ok. Ok NPH's using his Barney magic trick skills ok. I see you. What do you mean a jigsaw of the Doctor's history? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT. PLEASE BE A REFERENCE TO THE ORIGINAL OLD WHO EPISODE. DON'T BE A HINT THAT RTD2 IS GOING TO TRY TO RETCON THE TIMELESS CHILD. JUST LET IT BE. I'm sorry the Master is in your WHAT. "The one who waits." Amy? Rory? They both waited. "That's someone else's game." huh. Sorry, all I see is Barney Stinson even in the mannerisms. I was wondering why if they went back in time that things would still be bad in the future. Since if they fixed it in 1925 it wouldn't happen. The Toymaker wouldn't be there. But no wibbly wobbly timey wimey just a different order. They should take the little toy box. Oh good took it. Don't you dare kill of Mel right here while she's watching the box. Don't you dare. I haven't even seen any of her episodes but I swear if you kill her.... WHAT. IS. THE. VLINX. THOUGH. Hey Doctor, at least tell Kate what you're up against. I was about to say that NPH was pretty perfect casting for a role like this, then the Toymaker threw Kate into a wall and too I'm mad now. DON'T HURT MEL TOO. Oh no. Kateeee I love you I do but listen to him ok? NOW you tell her about the Toymaker. Maybe some warning next time? Eh. He can shoot it. I didn't like this new UNIT building anyway. This is very Christmas Invasion. [thud] [glass shattering] OK that was dark. Wait celestials were a thing in Do You Hear Me? right? "And yet, I have fallen in love with humanity." Really hitting the nail on the "just like the Doctor" head here. OH. WOW. OOOOOOOOOOH. Next Doctor. Oooooooooooh. "It doesn't matter who. Because every single one of you is fantastic" RTD2 that better be a purposeful Nine reference though I know it's not. Don't you dare say "I don't want to go." for the third time. "Allons-y." Ok I'll accept that.

NO. NOT AGAIN. WE ARE NOT DOING ANOTHER TEN REGENERATION FAKE OUT. NO.

"What?" No. Nope. The spoiler came true and I am not happy about it. Time to add that asterisk. No. Is he not even wearing pants? Oh but I love Gatwa as the Doctor already so much. He's here. Oh Fifteen (fine I will say the number. I think this is the first time) gets to keep the tie. I meant to say I liked the grey knit tie earlier like 2 episodes ago. And the shoes. Oh and Ten's in an undershirt, I thought the shirt multiplied somehow just to not leave Fifteen totally naked. "Someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" I am so happy to see you. Why must your first scene involve you not wearing pants though? The disrespect. "I think you're beautiful." "Do you come in a range of colors?" "Yes." I... do not know how I feel about that line. I really don't like that Fifteen has to LITERALLY share his start with Fourteen. I was saying it when Gatwa was first announced as Fourteen and then not Fourteen because then Tennant got announced. And now it's literally happening. They're sharing the lines, the scene, 1 of 3 specials. Really more like half a special if we're being generous. I really wish we had just not done this Tenthree thing at all. See even Fourteen got to say "I'm the Doctor" first while Fifteen said "And I'm the Doctor." like. Come on. At least let Fifteen have that first line. HEY. THE CAPTIONS SAY [TENTH DOCTOR] NOT FOURTEENTH. SO WHICH IS IT. WHAT IS THE TRUTH. DOES THIS NOT COUNT?

Ok seriously. Give the man some pants. Like come on.

Eeek did he have too many teeth? He looked like he had too many teeth. Flat, 2D, like Flatline? "My legions are coming." Ok and that means... Oooh I did not like that the laugh's arpeggio didn't resolve. "And bind it in salt." SO. IS THIS SALT THING. REALLY A THING NOW? REALLY? Or is it just because the Doctor mentioned the whole salt thing being the leak that let the Toymaker in? And what about mavity? There's 15 minutes. The ball fell but did it hit the ground yet? Gravity? Maybe the game didn't end? The Doctor kissed themself. Not in the way the Master did but still.

Give him some pants please.

NO. NO. NOT ANOTHER LADY WITH RED NAILS PICKING UP SOMETHING THAT HAS THE MASTER INSIDE IT. NO. SERIOUSLY RTD WHY ARE WE DOING THINGS OVER? Unless it's Dhawan!Master. Then I will accept that. I will gladly have Dhawan!Master back. BUT OTHERWISE NO. I REFUSE. Why is Fourteen explaining this to Fifteen, he should remember it since he's him. Like come on. "This is great. I think. Is it?" That was a Thirteenism right there. "One thing you need in this place is a chair." see that's the Doctor channeling Bill judging Twelve not having chairs close enough to the console. "Adric." "Adric." ADRICCCCCC. Seriously that hurts me and like I said I haven't even watched that part of Old Who. God. Stop bringing up Rose come on. OH WAIT. WAIT.

WAIT.

"I loved her. And Rose." OH MY GOD. I hate Tenrose but even I'M freaking out that the Doctor just admitted to loving Rose out loud. OH MY GOD. I mean still fanservice pandering. But FINE. Fine. Tenrose shippers take this one I'm giving it to you. I got so distracted by my annoyance at the still constant bringing up of Rose I almost missed the weight of what that meant. Still mad about the Rose-colored-glasses of the RTD era but good for you guys getting this.

Mavic Chen? Remind me to look that up it sounds really familiar. Ah, wish I didn't look it up, gotta love that 60s racism. Rehab in reverse. So you're saying we're gonna check back in on Fourteen in the future and he'll properly regenerate and/or kind of pop into existence in the moment that Fifteen bi-generated? Maybe? Hopefully? God if I had a nickel for every time RTD had a second Doctor separate from the main Doctor and had Tennant's face stay on Earth with a companion, I'd have two nickels. Don't you dare split the TARDIS too. That's too much. I assume this hammer is an Old Who reference. If so, very cute. They split the TARDIS. And Fifteen gets the second TARDIS. I can't really describe my mood besides -_- "I am so sorry." Yeah you better apologize to her. Ok that's cute the ramp. Why the jukebox though. Traditional Earth ballad? If Billie Piper shows up I'm literally stomping across the pond to RTD's house and killing him because that'll officially be Too Much. I can't even be completely happy at Gatwa's first proper TARDIS flight. "You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye were you?" Of course he was. Ask Sarah Jane. ASK SUSAN. "As if I would ever do that." At least you're self aware. Have these two been the first Doctors to hug? So Fifteen tells people he loves them. Willingly. Openly. Frequently. And a lot. I like that. (Yes Fourteen said he loved Wilf and River but shhh that was over the course of days. Fifteen has said I love you twice in like 3 minutes and was very affectionate to Mel)

Can we PLEASE put this man in some pants though!?

The little 2-finger salute from Fourteen is cute though. "The eyebrow story." TWELVE? Nope an alien species. "Oh, you're family, darling. Sit down." AWWWW. AWWWWWW MEL GETS A FAMILY. Ok. Ok that's really sweet. That's what I care about. Not even Tenthree/Fourteen getting a family. Mel gets one. Empty chair. It's for Wilf yes but let me pretend Martha's just running late to dinner ok? Ok. "I've never been so happy in my life." That's good. Fifteen really split off from Fourteen and was like "Ok you carry all the trauma and deal with it. I'm gonna keep running away."

I knew the Vlinx was voiced by Nicholas Briggs. What IS the Vlinx though? Because I really was waiting for it to be like a plant by the Toymaker.

God I can't believe we're really gonna do the same thing all over again with the Master. Like I said, if it's Dhawan!Master then I'm overjoyed. If it's another, I'm not as happy. I'm hoping that because it was the same way Simm!Master had came back as himself, it means Dhawan!Master will too. We'll see. And who grabbed the tooth this time? At least last time the ring was in a forest. I could believe someone was nearby to take it. But they're on a HELICOPTER LANDING PAD. In the secure UNIT building. Seriously who picked up the tooth?

GIVE. MY MAN. SOME PANTS. I feel so insulted that Gatwa spent all of his moments in his first episode IN HIS UNDERWEAR.

The absolute highlight of the episode was seeing Trinity Wells. Literally the most excited I've been about any of these fanservice moments. That feels like it was fanservice just aimed directly at me. As if RTD2 was like "Hope's not gonna enjoy this. What can we do? No no I'm not bringing back Martha. Oh! Trinity Wells!"

*Asterisk time! I can only hope that Fourteen is just another Tentoo and will live and die a normal human life but that's not what seems to be the case. I don't like that there's just another Doctor floating around. I had been spoiled for it. I hoped I had misunderstood the post since I hadn't properly finished reading it once I realized it was a spoiler. But I interpreted it correctly. If it ends up being that Fourteen does eventually regenerate and kind of hops back into the moment the body splits into Fourteen and Fifteen, then fine. But like. Otherwise, if there's now just a separate branch of Doctors and regenerations and then Fifteen technically has to share the title of Fifteen with whoever regenerates from this Fourteen then I will be so mad. Is this Fourteen really Fourteentoo? Or Tenfour. CAN WE JUST STOP REGENERATING INTO DAVID TENNANT AT THIS POINT. Just have him come back as Ten, he doesn't need to be three maybe FOUR different Doctors!

Oh my god. If RTD2 pulls a "Fugitive!Doctor is actually a Doctor AFTER Fourteen and regenerated and forgot everything and then met Thirteen" instead of being a pre-First Doctor then I'll actually riot. If that's the meaning of the jigsaw of their history, I'm really gonna actually riot.

Of the 3 specials. The Meep was eh. It was fine. Pure nostalgia and a nightmare fuel alien monster of the week. However, I REALLY enjoyed Wild Blue Yonder. That was right up my alley combining aspects of a lot of my favorite past episodes. And the Giggle was fine. Better than the Meep, definitely. I love Fifteen. I'm mad about the bi-generation thing. I would have preferred if after the Toymaster was gone for a bit that Fourteen got sucked back into Fifteen or something as a way of the Universe correcting itself. I'm mad that for most of Fifteen's scenes, it felt more like he was Fourteen's companion. Not the next Doctor. ALSO WHY COULDN'T WE GIVE FIFTEEN SOME PANTS PLEASE. AT LEAST IN THE LATER SCENES.

Also is it still mavity? Did Donna really just ruin all of human history with that one joke?

Oh I just started proofreading and I realize my prediction of Black Friday was wrong. I really thought the Toymaker was gonna make everyone go crazy over a puppet toy.

GIVE FIFTEEN SOME PANTS.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Someone said it’s a Halloween store and I love that actually.

And while it’s jumping ahead, I really love DRAMATIC reveals after a long while of identity and secret shenanigans.

So we enter in our favorite sad man in a trench coat, the staple of Danny ends up in DC somehow.

Goodness knows what Constantine needs a more or less disposable puppet for, maybe to retrieve some dangerous magic thing that will destroy whoever retrieves it from its resting place, or just curses the absolute hell out of those who touch it. Normally it’s sealed away, but some dumbass took it out, and now it’s the Justice League’s problem. Constantine knows a few ways around it, one of them being to have a puppet of some kind. Puppet masters capable of having puppets that work as well as they’d need to get that stupid thing back in place are… rare.

But there are whispers of someone like that in Gotham. Specifically, Danny has had ‘volunteers’ consisting of his rogue gallery. It was a bid to throw off the bats that, by the way, did not work and frankly backfired. One hour of volunteer work was an hour where Danny Simply Did Not See what the idiots did so long as no one was hurt and property damage was both minimal and not bothering him personally. Again, backfired terribly. But it also meant that somewhere along the lines of them talking about ‘Phantom’s creepy-ass clone shop’ became the general somewhat-misunderstanding of what Danny was doing.

Poorly, if you asked him. He was doing poorly.

So, as these things go, with the background-quickly-becoming-foreground plot of this magic whatsit giving us Problems and Red Herrings, Constantine hears of these whispers and tracks down Danny, code name, eh. It probably got the telephone game treatment, so Phantom might not be the name Constantine heard, and Danny could easily choose to go ‘well, sure, Phantom’, with or without revealing his full ghost nature. He could also use a new code name, or the weird mangled version that Constantine used. (I’m gonna say Pantomime. Cause puppets, puppet strings, the hand gestures—it’s a stretch but it kind of works.) Point is! Danny is found and is dragged, possibly literally kicking and screaming, into this whole mess.

“Saul!” he shouts to his strongest duplicate puppet. A duplipuppet, if you will. Saul is short for Assault, as this month’s theme was ‘crimes’. “You’re in charge!”

Saul salutes, immediately beaming himself with the mop he was holding.

Danny is choosing to say it’s the programming’s fault, and not something he himself would do. Jazz would say he’s trying to make a perfect him and it’s going to end badly. Danny is also choosing to ignore that.

Anyways, Danny gets dragged in with appropriate dramatic timing into some warehouse with a bunch of other Justice League members, including the batfam.

“Is he our sorcerer? The one that took this thing out?” Batman growls.

“I knew he was fishy,” says Nightwing. “Didn’t expect this though, right under our noses?”

“What? No,” Constantine says, idly wondering if that most recent bite went through the fabric and into his arm. It sure wasn’t comfortable, either way, kid had a hell of a bite force. “He’s a puppet master, supposedly.”

“Not really,” Danny spits out Constantine’s arm. No blood, somehow, and he’d been trying. Damn magic clothes. “Why would you need one, anyways?”

“Cursed object.”

“Ah,” Danny finally actually stands, not as combative as before as he slips through Constantine’s hold. “I guess I’ve got experience with those. What’s wrong with it, does it release boy bands onto the public?”

“Ah… no?” Flash says. “Kills anyone that touches it I think.”

“Oof.” Danny isn’t sure if it’d work on him, due to the Halfa thing. But he does know that curses used on his duplicates don’t effect him. Ask him how he knows. “So you wanted a puppet to do it. Aren’t they, like, a pain to get right?”

Tucker and Sam both had a bit of magic at this point, and had complained at LENGTH about it. Sam was even more miffed to find out that dolls in witchcraft were usually used for health and self care, not just hexes. Tucker was more skilled at the puppetmaster thing, but it kind of just boiled down to him using coding and magic as an artificial intelligence. And that took time.

Based on the… whatever the hell that pitch stuff running out like veins from Cursedy Cursed Thing, they did not have that time.

“That’s why I went to you, ya wank,” Constantine says. “Heard you were specializing your magic in it, and doing pretty well to boot.”

“They’re mind controlled people,” Red Robin says. “We can’t let him do that.”

“They’re not—“ Danny sighs. “You know what, I’ll show you. And then you’ll leave me alone. My business is officially, I bribed everyone appropriately.”

“That’s…” Superman frowns. “That’s not how that works?”

“It is in Gotham.” Danny stretches his hands out in front of him, a mix between asking for a hug and holding a box as far from his body as possible. His face is strained, and his brow sweats, and his hands…

They…

They droop? Fleshy goop seems to come off of his hands and forearms, faster and faster, and before anyone can even blink, there’s a flash of light and a second Danny standing there, dazed and wearing—

Was that a goddamn bathrobe?

“I got tired of losing my shirts,” Danny says to the raised eyebrows of Danny The Second’s attire. To be fair, it’d be less of a shock if it wasn’t electric pink with various yellow superhero symbols. Wonder Woman was pretty sure that she could see a bargain bin discount tag on the collar.

“Is that why your “employees” all wear shitty Halloween costumes?” Red Hood asks. “Because the maid costume bit was weird.”

“I did try to tell them not to, actually,” Danny says, walking up to the blank duplipuppet. Since it wasn’t programmed yet, it was just an empty shell, looking dazedly off in the distance. “Once their programming phase is done, though, it’s really hard to change them without doing a full reboot. In which case, it’s easier to just melt and retry.”

“They… they weren’t trafficking victims?” Red Robin says, disbelief dripping from his tone as his shoulders sagged under his cape. “They were-“

“Duplicates,” Danny says as an oversimplification.

“Really fucked up puppets,” Constantine says.

“That too,” Danny agrees. A faint green glow comes from his hands as he holds them against the duplipuppet’s temples. “I’ll ignore putting in the typical reactions and stuff—maybe a wince for pain, just to be sure that he’s not about to drop whatever it is?”

“… Does he feel pain?” Flash asks.

“No, not really, it’s like… if you program a computer to say ouch after being hit. It just knows what happens, but the human part is… detached.” That’s what Danny’s trouble usually was. Duplicates couldn’t be thought of as real, even as a part of yourself. It required a certain aspect of just not caring. Vlad was… disturbingly good at that. Kwan’s clones, back during that whole ghost bug thing, were afterimages, technically. Similar, but not the same, and much more fragile to boot. The internal justification was slightly different. Kwan never saw them as him, and Vlad never did with duplication either. Danny… he never could just not think of himself as, well. Himself.

Danny could make these empty husks all day, but to make them him, any aspect of him, even parts he normally didn’t explore? Difficult. Hence, all this.

He continued mumbling as he worked, ignoring the stares and the comments. He really needed the focus on this part, making the balance of reacting enough for them to know if something is wrong… and not reacting enough to make them think that he, the puppet, was really human.

He… wasn’t. How could he be? Danny certainly wasn’t.

Complex task management and dexterity. Listens to exact commands and instructions. All things Danny learned and struggled with, and usually couldn’t give or shortcut his way into doing very well. The complex energies required were… a lot.

There was one way to cheat it, though.

Shelf life—max, five hours.

The duplipuppet would be dead by then, Danny knew. He got these feelings sometimes, even back when he was a little kid. He really shouldn’t get at all attached to his duplicates. Just like he never got attached to his duplipuppets and other clones and just like he never memorized them all and just like he wonders if a piece of them came back to him when they die.

Danny names him. His clone, the perfect sacrifice to the greater good.

Danny didn’t mean to be so shady.

He had been working hard on his duplicates and had recently gained the ability to morph his appearance.

So he decided to challenge himself to see how long he could run a small business only using him and his clones.

The plan was to, at most, seem to have a group of quirky employees.

Unfortunately, it seems he has accidentally left more of an impression of being a shell company for less than legal reasons.

Good news is that he had did all the legal legwork properly and was not breaking the law.

Bad news was that the bats were getting suspicious and were trying to catch him in some sort of act.

Oh well, this just means that the difficulty has ramped up!

[melodyfics]

fridays, part 2

eddie munson x female reader

summary: you had been going to eddie’s house for a couple of fridays now, but it wasn’t until today that things changed.

warnings: innocent kissing.

word count: ~1.4k

a/n: part two is here! this has too much dialogue and it bothers me vejnrandka but i hope you people like this fluffy mess.

part 1

Friday movie nights at Eddie’s were now a regular occurrence. They all consisted of laughing at horror movies, eating pizza, and, above all, admiring Eddie. He often put on a show for you, recreating scenes from the films you watched. Every night you grew more and more comfortable around him.

Right now, Eddie was sitting in front of you, pulling a long string of cheese from his pizza with his mouth. Even his eating was theatrical. You nibbled at your slice in silence.

“How did we manage to not speak to each other during high school?” he suddenly asked.

You swallowed the food that was in your mouth. “I was very quiet. Well, I still am, but it was worse in high school”

“Yes, I remember. We had some classes together, and you were always paying so much attention.”

You were surprised to find out that Eddie had noticed you, and that he even remembered you. Not once had it occurred to you that you were being perceived, as you spent your days living in a shadow. You preferred it that way because you did not like to be the center of attention, and social interactions were not exactly your area of expertise, to say the least.

“I remember you, too. It was hard not to notice you,” you said.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Are you telling me I’m an attention whore?”

“No, no,” you shook your head rapidly. “You were just very flamboyant.”

“That’s a big word, Y/N. Still think it means I’m an attention whore, but thank you.”

You rolled your eyes. “What I mean is that you stood out a lot.”

“Being the school freak is no easy task, but I am nothing if not committed to the part.”

“Eddie, why do you call yourself a freak?”

“Because I am.”

“Oh, don’t say that. I think you’re very cool. Always thought that.”

Eddie smiled. “I think you’re very cool, too.”

You blushed. “Thank you, Eddie. I don’t agree, though.”

“What? You don’t think you’re cool?”

You shook your head.

“Come on, Y/N! You watch horror movies and listen to Metallica. That’s peak coolness.”

“Eddie, I’m literally a little nerdy mouse.”

The man chortled. “Well, you are, but that’s not a bad thing. You’re very smart, funny, and,” he cleared his throat, “you’re really cute.”

Your cheeks turned pink when you heard the last word. You were speechless; the boy you had been crushing on since high school just called you cute.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized to Eddie. “Well, I- I also think you’re handsome.”

Eddie smiled. “You really think so?”

You put your pizza slice down and covered your face with your hands. “Eddie, this is so embarrassing!”

He laughed. “Why? Thinking I’m handsome is embarrassing?”

“No, no. I just never thought I would get to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Actually, you’re more than handsome, Eddie. You’re a rockstar,” you couldn’t keep that last phrase from coming out of your mouth, making you feel even more embarrassed.

Eddie chuckled. “Thank you, again, Y/N.”

“I really mean it. You even had a band. What was its name? Cannibal something?”

“Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh, yes! Do you still play with them?”

“Yes, we still do.”

“I don’t think I ever saw you guys play, though.”

“Well,” Eddie started, “I am learning a new song. Master of Puppets by Metallica.”

“That song’s amazing, Eddie! Can I hear it?”

“I can’t play it perfectly, but if you ask nicely, I could show you.”

Without thinking, you put your hands on Eddie’s excitedly. He looked at them and smiled, then back up at you. You quickly retreated your hands and put them in your lap, blushing.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N.”

This time, you plucked up the courage to put your hands over Eddie’s voluntarily. He opened them and you took them. They were warm. He brushed your hand with his thumb faintly, and you wondered if he did it on purpose.

“Please, please, Eddie,” you solicited. “Could you please play for me?”

With those eyes, you could make me do anything, he thought. “Okay, you win. Let’s go.”

Eddie stood up without letting your hand go and took you down the hallway into his room. “Sorry. It’s a bit messy.”

You couldn’t care less, though, because it was his room. It finally dawned on you that you were inside his most intimate space. You could see the posters of his favorite bands on the walls and his unmade bed. This was the place in which he laid down and dreamed, unbothered by the world that was so cruel to him, and he had let you in.

Eddie took his guitar down from where it was hung. It was a very cool one, red and spiky. He sat on the bed, and you sat on the floor in front of him with you legs folded underneath you. That kneeling position was appropriate for the occasion, because when Eddie rested the guitar on his leg and started playing, you wanted to worship him.

His fingers moved swiftly on the fretboard, pressing the strings firmly and accurately. He furrowed his brow. The tip of his tongue was out, sliding across the lips that he would then bite. Your hands formed into fists in your lap as you leaned towards him. He was bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music. The sight made you fantasize about some things that you were ashamed to think of. When he was done, he looked at you expectantly, only to find you wide-eyed and with an open mouth.

“So,” he asked, “what did you think?”

You were speechless but managed to clap. Eddie smiled. “Thank you, thank you.”

“No, Eddie, it was really good. I mean it.”

The man laid his guitar on the bed and sat on the floor; his legs spread out in front of him. You scooted next to him so that you were facing him, your legs now crossed. He brushed a strand of his hair off his mouth and sighed.

“Thank you for playing for me, Eddie. I’ll say it again: you’re a rockstar.”

“Thank you for listening to me.”

For a second, you got a glimpse of what could be longing in Eddie’s eyes. Invoking all your courage for what you were going to do next, you chose to not waste your chance. Your elbow was on your knee, and you leaned forward to rest your chin on your fist, moving your face closer to Eddie’s. He did not move his head away.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“Can I say that you have the most beautiful eyes?”

You blushed and covered your eyes with your hand in embarrassment. He was too close, and you couldn’t handle it. He grabbed your wrist gently.

“You don’t have to hide. Can I see them again?”

You nodded, and he pulled your hand down to uncover your eyes. Fighting the urge to drop your gaze, you looked into his. The brown buttons swayed as he examined your irises. They were in a calm kind of awe, trying to absorb all that they saw.

“Y/N,” he said after a minute, “your eyes are mesmerizing. I remember seeing them glued to the board during class and wishing it was me they were staring at.”

You had to look down because his stare was too electric. “Oh, Eddie.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You looked up.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Those four words hit you like a gust of wind and propelled you into the air. All the hairs in your body stood on end. You wanted him to kiss you, yes, of course.

All you could do was nod, and his lips were on yours.

He kissed you in the softest, most gentle way. You didn’t have much experience with kissing, but he was an excellent guide. Your lips danced to the rhythm of his. His hand was cupping your cheek, and you felt the light caresses of his thumb on your cheekbone. The rings on his fingers laid cool upon your jawline. You were shivering, out of breath. He pulled away slowly.

“Hey, are you shaking?”

You put your hand on your lips, not believing that you had just kissed Eddie Munson.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You unglued your eyes from the ground and looked at him, gasping. “I- I’m okay.”

He smiled and said, “You have no idea how long I have dreamed of kissing you.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Was I too obvious?”

“No. I know because I have wanted to kiss you all this time, too.”

[bluesdesk]

ZELDA HEADCANONS

Sun:

-- considers "Zelda" and "Hylia" as 2 different identities. When she has to act as Hylia (to give a serious order, to do some magic...), she moves her fringe to her left side. Also when Sky makes her angry in a discussion she is like: "remember I can be Hylia!" and  not "remember I'm Hylia"

-- she wears shorts under her dresses, she would be pretty uncomfortable without them.

-- She has a very strong personality, like a girlboss, and she's as chaotic as Tetra

-- She's Hylia, and so she must handle magic pretty well. Also Sky didn't have problems, if not more frequent nightmares and lightning scars and fear of thunderstorms... But "fear of thunderstorms" doesn't even count! However, she noticed her hair became lighter near the tips, and wavier.

-------------

Dot:

-- the girly princess? No way! She grew up with Four, she's a smith too, she loves adventures and festivities. The fucsia jacket is a hoodie (she covers the hood with her cloack), she wears leggings and seakers nunder the dress, that's actually a high waisted long skirt she can remove

-- her hair is kinda orangey! Also it's pretty long

-- she's a relative of Four! In the italian version of Minish Cap she refers to Link's grandpa as "uncle Smith". This might mean Smith is her uncle, grand-uncle or greta-granduncle? Dot's mom might be Smith's younger sister for example.

-- She had a pretty simple life before MC and FS.  Dot had learnt some magic because of the whole "descendant of a goddess" thing. Not much, and she preferred to not use it. So, when she got petrified by Vaati's magic, she got the signs of it. Her hands and feet are as small as when she was 12 (MC), and her hair got way straighter than before. And when Vaati kidnapped her, she got some eye markings, like tattoos, on her arms.

-------------

Lullaby:

-- genderfluid! But their father doesn't really support them and when they feel like a boy they just become Sheik and go in the woods or at Lon Lon!

-- They have a tanned skin and dark blonde hair

--They do want to be a mom though. Dusk is their daughter!

-- They can handle magic well, but Lullaby turned into Sheik for the first time when they were really young, and this had an impact on them. Their blue eyes became red with the Sheik mask (yeah I headcanon it as a mask!), and the repetitive use of it made their eye color turn from blue to violet even when they're "Zelda". They also got a sheikah eye symbol on their left eye, which they cover with their hair.

---------------

Dusk:

-- She grew up with her grandpa (Lullaby's father)

-- She has Lullaby's skin color! Also she's thin and tall

-- She  didn't attend a royal/exclusive school but went at Twi's same one so they were friends as kids. She also studied swords and archery!

-- She simply didn't recognize Twi as a wolf, she thought he had become a spirit, because she didn't know he had the triforce too!

-- When Ganondorf turned her into his puppet, her skin became pale, and she had those black scars/signs and her eyes turned yellow. Her light power kinda healed this, but she now has light brown eyes, that turn blue when she's really happy and yellow when she's angry. Her skin color changed back to normal but her lips are always more violet than normal and she still has those black scars.

--------------

Artemis:

-- Dusk's great-great-granddaughter! She has a similiar face, but her colors are different. Also she has chubbier legs.

--When the war started, she took the master sword and trained with it, until Impa told her she had to leave it for the next hero

-- She's been training with magic for a long time, since she can really use it perfectly, and she masters different kinds of magic. Every scar/sign she got is from the enemies' weapons, and not magic

-------------

Flora:

-- She refused the whole princess/goddess thing, she just refers to herself as a scholar, researcher and adventure.

-- she loves Sheikah clothing!  She has stealth lessons with Paya

-- she tries to imitate Wild's cooking in secret, but she refuses to admit it because of the "powerful hero/ useless princess" thing

--She has also been training a lot with magic, and when she sealed herself and Calamity Ganon, her powers were awake. But being sealed for 100 years, with constant light powers on, and Calamity Ganon surely did something. The constant light made her photosensitive, and her hands are burnt, not as badly as Wild's face of course, but you can recognize they are. The usage of a newly awakened magic, for so long time and with that intensity made her unable to use magic for the next years after she came back, and if she'll ever get her magic back, it'll be only few.

------------

Tetra:

-- She grew up knowing her name wad Tetra. She didn't know it was just a nickname, so for her "Zelda" is a nickname she doesn't even like. In the italian version of WW/PH, her name is Dazel. She prefers Dazel over Zelda when she has to do royal stuff.

-- even as Zelda her skin is dark and her hair is all curly

-- Wind's grandma loves her and already adopted her in her mind XD but she keeps telling her she needs warmer clothes and she also gives her lots of Wind's clothes that became too small for him

-- she has blonde freckles on her dark skin, Aryll says she's a starry night

-- chubby!!

-- She had never heard of magic before her first adventure, so you might imagine she must have taken it really badly. She has a messed up sleping schedule and she falls asleep in the strangest ways, positions, and times. One second she's arguing with you, the next moment she's asleep, even if she's on her feet, this thing can get dangerous for her so she always brings someone (mostly Wind) with her. She has scratches everywhere from her petrification too, and being petrified surely didn't help with her previous situation.

------------

Fable:

-- she loves to wear pink and sky blue together! Pink is her favorite color and sky blue represents the goddess. She's a fan of jewels too!

-- Don't touch her hair, she'd get mad!

--Legend's step sister and somehow twin! She and Legend have different mothers and the same father (the father became a king after the marriage with Fable's mom, the queen). Oddly enough, they were born the same day of the same year.

-- She knows how to use a sword but she mostly uses magic and she can kick pretty well!

-- She can use magic almost perfectly, like Artemis! However, being in a painting gave her some lighter/"discolored" spots on her skin, pretty much like vitiligo. Just few spots, as she could handle that magic well too.

----------------

Aurora:

-- a child. She's like 10/12. A pretty smart kid!

-- redhead, tanned skin, curly hair and lots of freckles!

-- autistic, her stims are most likely jumping and moving her arms! She loves springs and water in general, she could spend her entire days with fairies in a spring! Pretty enthusiastic about literally anything too!

-- she sees Hyrule as an older brother

-- She had negative memories about her brother, and giving the adjective "brother" to Hyrule is  like turning the page, seeing that adjective with a new meaning

--The poor kid often thinks her dreams are reality. She has problems in distinguishing vivid dreams from reality as she had been asleep for too much. On the other hand, she barely sleeps.

----------------

BONUS:

Phantom/Angel (Spirit Tracks!):

As the great granddaughter of Tetra, Phantom and Link should be related (One of Spirit and one of Phantom's parents must be cousins) Unless Spirit isn't the great grandson of Tetra and Wind... but maybe the great grandson of Aryll instead! This would explain why Spirit is in contact with the pirate crew but not royal, and since their first common relative is so distant (Wind and Aryll's parents) they wouldn't be considered as related and the fact they didn't know each other before would have more sense

-- She took her personality from Tetra AND Wind: her will to help and be a hero too, still being a bit sassy, and a little rebel (escaping from the castle). She's like, a perfect mix of their personalities.

-- As for her design, she has wavy hair, a slightly tanned skin (she's not dark skinned, unlike Tetra), she loves earrings and she has a lot of them!

-- She wasn't used to magic, she knew that but not too much, so being a phantom and leaving her body because of said magic had an impact on her. Her eyes were originally dark blue like Tetra, but they're now pink to purple and yellow! Her skin got lighter after ST, and so she wears makeup to seem less pale. Her eyes get irritated easily (red eyes when possessed) and she spaces out a lot, sometimes she has dissociative events

[spaceorphan18]

I think you're the glee queen of analysis, I was watching puppet master and I had a question...

We know the whole Sue being obsessed with Klaine plotline was a last minute take to get them back together, however in the canon of the show it established that, even tho this is the first time we heard of this, Sue has been obsessed a long time, however her shipper behavior doesn't fit some earlier attitudes (again, I know this is because it was randomly added), but if we took it all literally, how would you explain why Sue took Blaine's Kurt puppet and didn't let him go to NY?, if she's such a shipper she wouldn't stand in the way of Klaine, but Idk I was just curious of how can her behavior be explained if we knew before hand she was obsessed with them, Idk if I explained myself lol.

Ha, okay!

Well, here's my thing about Sue... if we're going to ignore the outside influences (and I mean it's hard to with Season 6 because everything they were doing was purposeful so to encourage their satirical narrative - even if it didn't really jive with the previous five seasons) you can explain, somewhat, Sue's obsession...

Or more so - there is canon evidence that if there was one Glee kid she could tolerate (I suppose besides Quinn - but that is a different dynamic all together) it was Kurt. For reasons that are never really explained, Sue looks out for Kurt whenever she can. Maybe we can say it was because of Madonna week, lol.

But there's a whole lot of evidence that Sue looks out for Kurt - and wants to make sure he's okay. There's even a theory out there that one reason she's kind of a dick towards Blaine is that she isn't a fan of the cheating (or whatever).

So, I don't think it's out of the realm of possibility that she'd secretly wish for his happiness.

I'd also like to make the argument that... who knows, maybe this is a recent fixation. I mean -- haven't we all dived head first into a fandom and just gorged ourselves on everything possible? Maybe Sue's an embodiment of the new kind of shipper. ;)

But in all honesty - the truth about Sue is, especially by season 6, we can't really use real world logic on her. At that point, she is no longer a functioning human being (character). She's really a satirical mouthpiece for whatever the writers want to say, and a possible catalyst to get the plot where it needs to go. Trying to apply logic to the narrative won't really work.

But I mean... don't let that slow you down with your theories, guys ;)

[entropicquilibriumofchaos]

Master of Puppets

After a year away at college, Margaret Byrnes is called home to Hawkins, Indiana when her father turns up missing after an earthquake swallows half of the town. Something is different about Hawkins, though, and she stumbles right into it, quite literally. After along fall and a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger named Kas, Margaret will have to reconsider every thing she believes as her world mixes with a strange world on the other side of her hometown.

Eddie Munson/Original Female Character

READ IT ON AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Disposable Heroes

Chapter warnings: Description of character death

“So, it’s like an alternate dimension?” Mags asked with skepticism in her eyes. Kas had taken the last fifteen-or-so minutes to try to explain to her where she had fallen into.

“As far as I can tell, yeah,” he replied, “A really shitty alternate dimension. Like, of all the alternate dimensions that could exist, it had to be the one with slimy vine monsters and killer… everything. Oh, and it’s stuck on November 6th, 1983.”

Mags cocked her head to the side. “Why that day?”

Kas shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I’m not entirely sure. Something about a super powered kid opening a portal to here or something.” 

It was silent for a second as Kas briefly parted the blinds that hung over the window and looked out. The silence was broken by a giggle, which turned into a chuckle, which turned into an all out raucous laughter. 

Kas whipped around to see Mags holding her side and laughing so hard that tears had begun to run down the dried up dirt on her face. He frowned at her. “You think I’m joking,” he sighed. 

Mags struggled to catch her breath for a second. “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly, still smiling, “I’m sorry, I just-”

He shook his head and she saw a small smile spread across his face as well. “It’s okay,” he reassured. “It sounds bat shit crazy, I know.” He walked back over to the wall and slid down to sit next to her. “But, don’t worry. We’re gonna get you back up to Hawkins and then you can forget that any of this ever happened.” He reached over and took her hand gingerly in his. His brown eyes bore into hers with a gentle kindness that Mags didn’t expect. 

“What about you? Don’t you want to get out of here too?” she asked, the smile falling from her face. She had only known Kas for a limited amount of time, but during that time he had only been kind to her. There was a fondness in her heart for the dark haired man and it was only growing larger. 

He looked away, not wanting her to see the frown that replaced his gentle smile. “I can’t go back. I belong here now,” he explained softly. He felt her squeeze his hand in her own and turned his head down to look at them. His calloused hand dwarfed her smaller, softer one. He heard the question before she could speak it. “I died in here and I came back different. I don’t even know how long I’ve been down here, but every moment that passes, I lose who I was before.”

Mags shuffled around to look him in the eye, careful not to move her wounded leg too much. “I don’t understand, Kas.” 

He took a deep breath and held it before letting it come out in a shaky exhale. “I came to the Upside Down with a group of crazy dumbasses that thought we could, essentially, kill a god. My job was to distract the demobats so that the others could infiltrate Vecna’s lair and blast him full of lead while he was stalking his next kill.”

“Vecna is the guy who opened the gates to Hawkins right?” Mags recalled.

Kas nodded, “Yeah. Everything was going really good, too. Until the bats lost interest in our distraction. So… I bought the others some time and led them away from his lair.”

It finally clicked in Mags’s mind what he was getting at as the room fell silent. “You sacrificed yourself so that your friends could get to Vecna,” she whispered and he nodded solemnly. 

“I can still feel the tails around my neck and their claws digging into my skin,” he said, his voice breaking as he tilted his head up slightly. Mags gasped softly and without thinking about it, let her hand trail up to the angry red scars around his neck. “And Dustin… I can still hear him crying. It’s the last fucking thing I heard and it haunts me. It fucking haunts me.”

Mags bit her bottom lip and rested her hand on his cheek. He leaned into it slightly, relishing in the warmth of her skin. A tear ran down his cheek and she wiped it away with her thumb. “I’m sorry, Kas. I- I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”

He turned from her embrace and wiped his own tears, avoiding her gaze that felt it was ripping his heart out again. She was just so… nice. So caring, even though she had just met him. Even though she was terrified, instead of lashing out, she was caring for him. 

“I don’t know how long I was out for,” he continued, “But, when I woke up I could hear his voice telling me that we failed. That I died for nothing and no one was coming back for me. He offered me strength, tried to tempt me with revenge. He seemed to think that I should want to kill them for leaving me here. And I was so confused and disoriented that I accepted.” 

Deciding not to push him, Mags let her hand fall back into her lap, but kept the other hand in his grasp. He hadn’t let go, to her surprise. His grip was steady, as if he was using it to keep himself grounded. 

“I don’t know what happened next. But when I woke up there was blood everywhere and a whole flock of the demobats dead and dying on the ground. I feel like I’m still picking out their leathery fucking skin from my nails,” he laughed half-heartedly. “I can do things now, like what I did with the venom that was in you. And the demobats listen to me sometimes, but it takes a lot out of me to command them.” 

The air shifted in the room slightly. He looked at Mags again with that same gaze that had paralyzed her while he was taking the venom out of her system. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to be scared, okay?”

Mags nodded slightly, feeling his words grip her mind and thinking about how he could never scare her. She didn’t know where the thought had come from, but she didn’t fight it. 

“I’m hungry. I’m so fucking hungry all the time,” he explained as his eyes bored into his. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized by him, his pupils almost completely overtaking his brown irises. 

“A deer fell in through one of the gates a bit back. And something came over me and I killed it. I can still feel how its heart stopped as I pinned it down and ripped out its jugular.” Tears were streaming down his face now as he recounted the event that confirmed his suspicion of Vecna’s curse. “I ate it raw. And the worst part was that I fucking loved it. The thrill of killing it and watching its life drain out of its eyes.”

He broke his eye contact with Margaret and she let out a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. Fear gripped her heart as he pulled his upper lip up, exposing a canine that was much sharper and longer than it should be. 

“I’m a monster now. I can’t go back to Hawkins; I won’t.”

Kas stood up and walked away from the girl that he had saved. Ashamed of himself, but oddly relieved to finally have told someone about what happened to him, the last thing he expected to feel was Mags’s hand return to his. He watched as she limped closer to him and took his other hand as well. 

She looked at him with wide eyes. “You saved my life, Kas,” she said softly, not wanting him to push her away. “You could have let me die… you could’ve killed me yourself. But, you saved me. That doesn’t sound like monstrous behavior to me.” She released one of his hands to brush a piece of his hair out of his face. “Nothing you’ve told me makes me think that you are a monster. Scared, maybe. But monstrous?” She shook her head. “You sacrificed yourself so that your friends could live. That sounds like a hero to me.” 

Without a warning, Mags wrapped her arms around him and embraced him. He froze for a second before mirroring the action and holding her close to him. He muttered something into her hair that she couldn’t quite hear. 

“What was that?” she asked, pulling away slightly.

He shook his head and wiped under his eyes. “Nothing,” he lied. “Just saying thank you.” 

Kas pulled away and looked out the window again. Regaining his composure, he turned back to Mags with a resolute determination on your face. “As much as I’ve enjoyed your company, I think it’s time we get you back home, sweetheart.”

Mags nodded, not giving up on convincing him to come back with her, but deciding to drop the subject for the moment. “And how are we going to do that?”

He led her to a pile of furniture that he began tossing across the room to reveal a door. “I’ve got an idea, but we’re going to have to be sneaky,” he said, opening the door quietly and poking his head out. He nodded to himself and ducked back in, scanning the room for something. “Ha!” he exclaimed, bounding over to what looked to be a beat up trash can lid with long nails driven through it. It was covered in black ichor and dented to all hell. He held it up like a shield before smiling with satisfaction. “Never go anywhere around here without a little bit of protection.” 

Mags chuckled lightly before limping over to him. He dropped his make-shift shield to his side and made another quick scan of the room before grabbing a piece of thick metal rebar. Dropping the shield, Mags watched in awe as he straightened it out with his bare hands almost effortlessly. He then grabbed the puffy vest that she had been laying on and affixed it to the top of the rebar with some rope.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the make-shift crutch into her arms before picking up his shield once more. “Don’t want you injuring that leg anymore, ‘kay? Doctor’s orders.”

“Yes sir,” she responded with a smile as she tucked the crutch under her armpit and tested her weight on it slowly. It seemed sturdy enough and she was grateful to not have to put her weight on her injured leg.

Kas let out a laugh that was almost like a snort before beckoning her to the door and looking out once again. She hobbled over to him and poked her head out. The boiling, red storm overhead had calmed slightly and there was no sign of life across the barren landscape that lay ahead of them. He pointed to a group of trailer houses in the distance that looked oddly familiar and out of place in the foreign world that Mags had fallen into. 

“There’s a gate that runs through that trailer park over there,” he explained, “As long as we can get over there without attracting the demobats or alerting Vecna that you’re here, I should be able to get you back to Hawkins through it.” He stepped out cautiously and Mags followed. “Watch out for the vine-y things and stay close.”

[thankskenpenders]

I know Mogul is supposed to be playing a Kingpin role, but does it seem weird he’s just walking around acting like a legit businessman with seemingly enough public support? He didn’t escape jail through a team of lawyers, he held several people hostage, took the kingdom’s emerald as ransom, and then broke himself and other inmates out. Plus his other crimes, like abducting Tails, killing Knuckles, etc. Last issue even established Bean and Bark are still wanted, but not Mogul?

I'm willing to bet that most people on Mobius haven't heard of Mogul and have no idea what he did. He's not Robotnik. Most of his greatest exploits are quite literally ancient history that most people won't know about (like the aptly named "Forgotten War"), and he's spent most of his time since then working from the shadows and being a secret puppet master. He attacked Knothole and New Mobotropolis, sure, but how many people other than the Freedom Fighters actually saw him? There's very little reason for most people to have ever heard of him

We also don't know who exactly was in that casino or where they came from. Rouge did specifically call it an "international success," which implies that people are coming from all over. All we know is there were some random Mobians, who could be from places other than Knothole/New Mobotropolis and therefore have no experience with Mogul as a villain, and a LOT of Overlanders and/or Station Square humans, who almost definitely don't hear about anything that happens in the Acorn Kingdom

As for why they aren’t going after him: I mean, Sally DID wanna prove Mogul was still up to no good. She sent Geoffrey to investigate, and we got that whole scene at the end. But they had no solid evidence that he’s still plotting anything, and they’ve got countless other foes to deal with with limited resources, so what can they do

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

First chapter of the immortal prime boys au is out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32884102/chapters/81605941 or, under the cut (tw: abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, references to past character death)

There is no such thing as a fate worse than death.

That’s what Dream says, at least, and Tommy’s learnt it’s so much easier to just go along with what Dream says. He’d grown tired of fighting even before his hair had faded fully white. He wasn’t even sure why he ever bothered. Dream was his friend- his older brother in all but blood, really- and he’d always been. He’d reassured him of that over and over again when he couldn’t help but think through the Wrong Memories. Maybe back then he believed them.

Tommy hated the Wrong Memories. No matter how many times Dream told him the truth, they still remained stubbornly stuck in his head, even more vivid than what was real. He knew it wasn’t his fault, he was too trusting, too naïve, but he still despised it. He hated being weak like that, even though he knew in truth he was a silly child who foolishly insisted he was more.

Still, he couldn’t help but blame himself for screwing up so much. He couldn’t help but blame himself for falling for Wilbur’s lies about Dream being corrupt, somehow believing Tubbo cared. They just wanted to use him, Dream had made that clear. That’s all anyone wanted from him but Dream.

He understood that. He wouldn’t go as far to say he was fucking grateful or anything- Prime no, Dream could be as annoying as shit and was always as overprotective as fuck- but he understood. Big brothers were meant to be like that, right? He certainly knew little brothers were meant to be a fucking pain, and he certainly hoped he counted as that.

(Not because he’d ever want to hurt Dream, of course, he learnt his lesson on that front so long ago. But that was the role Dream had him play, and it was far easier to let the strings be pulled than try and dance your own tune away from the puppet master’s grasp.)

If there was one thing for Tommy to be proud of, it’s that he could play his role excellently. Sometimes, even he couldn’t tell when what he was saying was him playing along because not doing so only led to pain or things he genuinely, earnestly believed. It didn’t matter anyway. It didn’t make a difference to Dream, and he was the only person who cared.

So, Tommy sat as motionless as a doll, fake (fake?) smile plastered on his face as Dream delicately braided Tommy’s hair. It was part of the delicate, unchanging routine that’d end up shattered and forgotten sooner or later like the last however many routines the two of them had, rearranged into something similar but wrong. Nothing was a constant, not their routine, not their home, not even the colour of the sky. Nothing, of course, but Dream.

Tommy’s hair was styled in the way it always was, however Dream decided it would look for the next however long. Tommy didn’t have a real say in it anymore. He hadn’t, even back when the memories were Wrong. He pulled it out in chunks, hating the white slowly clouding out pale blond, hating how long it was getting. It touched the floor by the time he and Dream became immortal, so that’s how it would be forever. It was annoying as fuck, but that’s just how things were and always would be.

The main braid at the back was what took the most time, but the smaller braids pulling at his hair, keeping his curly fringe barely any shorter than the rest of his hair from constantly being in his eyes, weren’t exactly quick either. It was nice, though, the touch, no matter how much the pull of the braids stung. He could tell Dream, and Dream would probably listen, but the pain was grounding, made him feel almost mortal again, and Dream still got anxious when Tommy hurt himself- which was fucking ridiculous, he literally couldn’t kill himself anymore even if he wanted to, but Tommy supposed it was natural for big brothers to be overprotective.

Tommy was resigned to his immortality, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fucking hate it. The glimmering gold crackling over his body like a web, replacing the familiar pale peach and raw red of his scars, the heavy unhealing bruising around his neck the same gaudy shade, made him feel more like a doll than a person. Even his freckles had turned the same metallic shade. His eyes, too, but he didn’t mind that. It was better than the ghostly pure white glow they had after the first dozen or so resurrections.

Back then, whenever he looked in the mirror, they reminded him of the Wrong Memories. About Eret, the only one to realise the lies of L’Manburg, and Ghostbur, the mangled version of Wilbur he made up in his head unable to comprehend he hurt him and ruined his mind. Thinking about them in that way made Tommy want to bite his tongue until he bled, even though he knew it was true because Dream said it was true.

(He missed when his blood was red. Now, it was the same shimmering gold that everything but his hair was.)

(Was his blood even ever red? He couldn’t quite remember the shade.)

Tommy had been good recently, so Dream had allowed him to listen to one of the battered and broken music discs he treasured so much. He didn’t know why he did, but it made Dream laugh, and that was good. He thought they might have been something important from back when he was in the server. A gift from Dream, maybe? No, Dream didn’t talk about it, so they must have been from bad times, when he was brainwashed by Wilbur and Tubbo and the other L’Manburgians. His only source of comfort in those dark times, he supposed.

He should be glad they’re dead. Dream made sure of that, made sure they suffered for what they did to his Tommy. He didn’t, though. He just felt numb, and a bit sick.

The music disc was the one with a striped purple sheen, delicately and painstakingly repainted many times before whoever had been doing it gave up. It was once a melancholy tune, but now it skipped and stopped and started so much it was barely recognisable. That didn’t matter, though. Tommy had the song memorised, and that was a memory he knew was real and felt was real, and that was so few and far between he knew he’d treasure it forever. He’d have to.

At least he’d have Dream. That was terrifying at first. He wanted nothing but to be free. That just seemed ridiculous now, though. What would he be without Dream?

(“Yourself,” some traitorous voice from a false memory whispers. The “nothing,” he’s been trained to respond with all but drowns it out.)

“Tommy?” Dream’s voice snapped Tommy out of his thoughts.

“What’s up, big man?” Tommy said. Fuck, his voice was all dumb and raspy again. He had some water like, what, at least like five sleeps ago? His throat shouldn’t be dry yet, should it?

“We’re moving again. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fun!” Tommy rolled his eyes. Dream’s definition of fun involved other people too much for Tommy to do much more than tolerate it. He almost hoped this form of fun was the violent type. It made him feel sick and awful, and he’s pretty sure it’d make him cry if he hadn’t forgotten how to do it except on command anymore, but it wasn’t the all-consuming terror that having to be around people other than Dream gave.

After all, Dream was the only person that cared. He was the only person who was ever kind to Tommy for reasons other than just manipulation. Dream had told him horror stories of how people could be, and the ugly gold-tinted brand roughly scratched just above his hipbones he’d seen while taking Dream’s measurements to sew for him made Tommy wonder if any of them were personal.

Dream hurt him, sure, but it was either just play or punishment. If it was play, then Dream would stop if Tommy asked, and it wouldn’t be that bad, he didn’t even use the axe, and Dream would spoil the shit out of him after. And if it was for punishment, Tommy deserved it anyway, and he needed discipline. He was a brat, and Dream was just being a good big brother.

Still, he swallowed his fear. Dream wanted him to be excited, so he forced as much enthusiasm as possible into his voice. “Fun?”

Dream laughed. “Oh, absolutely. The most fun the two of us might have in a long while! See, I’ve heard rumours about the Goddess of Death. There’s a village in the wilderness that worship her, and they say she protects it.”

“And?”

“And that means we can investigate,” Dream said, in a tone like he was talking to a fucking little kid. Tommy hated it when he did that. He was sixteen, not six. Honestly, he was pretty sure Dream just did it to fuck with him. “She could be the only thing that could pose a risk to us anymore, and you know there’s no such thing as a fate worse than death.”

Tommy nodded. Honestly, he was pretty sure this wouldn’t go anywhere. He’d continue his existence like always, hiding behind Dream’s cape like a fucking pussy and hating what he’d become. He was resigned to that being the constant state of his existence, now.

This, it turns out, wouldn’t be the case.

[ladykissingfish]

Under The Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part One// Konan

**This is a small “series” I’ve been working on. The concept is that it’s the holiday season, the Akatsuki has decorated accordingly, and one of the items on display is a mistletoe plant hanging in the archway between the living and dining rooms. Each member will at some point find themselves standing under it, and, as per tradition, share a kiss with the person nearest them. Each individual member will get their own post ((and I will likely post once a week)), and scenarios will be imagined with each other member kissing them. Enjoy!**

Konan

Konan stands under the little green plant, and she looks absolutely beautiful. She’s wearing a form-fitting soft velvet green dress, and her hair is adorned with several poinsettia blossoms.

Kisame

This is the hardest (and the longest) that anyone has ever seen the shark man blush before. He shuffles his feet and sounds extremely apologetic when he mutters to her that she doesn’t have to kiss him if she doesn’t want to, because “I know I’m just a freak, Konan-san.” Hearing this causes Konan to ball up her tiny fist and sock Kisame on the shoulder (which he barely feels, but still). She tells him that she doesn’t want to ever hear him say something like that again, that there’s not a single member of the Akatsuki that doesn’t have something “uniquely wonderful” about themselves, and Kisame is no different from anyone else. Still, he reiterates that she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to — but is interrupted when she puts her small soft hands on his face and pulls his face into a kiss ((and Kisame is much taller than her so she’ll have to raise up on her tip-toes to do this)). Kisame is so surprised that he forgets to blink or breathe, and the moment, although it only lasts a few seconds, seems to go on forever. When Konan is done, she’ll give him a warm hug and be on her way — but Kisame will stay stock-still for the longest time, until somebody (likely Itachi) finds him and snaps him out of it. Also should be noted that his blue skin stays a flushed red for quite some time, making him appear a delightful (and tease-inducing) purple.

Hidan

Will literally take his scythe and swing it at anybody nearby to clear a path when he sees Konan under the mistletoe. Grabs her around the waist and yanks her as close as possible, but ... once her face is so close, once he’s actually looking into her eyes, he freezes. She sees his sudden shyness and chuckles, and asks if he’s okay. He blushes a fierce tomato and insists that he is, that he’s done this a million times before, but Konan (or anybody else for that matter) ain’t buying it. Decides to quickly man up and kiss her; he closes his eyes and puckers and pecks in the direction of her lips, but his eyes being closed (and his coordination not being good to begin with) causes him to miss and instead kiss the bottom of her nose. But he’ll feel proud of himself regardless, and Konan will laugh at how characteristically cute he was throughout the whole ordeal. He’ll murmur a “Thank you” to her before he leaves, and when she asks why he’s thanking her, he’ll lean close and whisper into her ear that this was his first kiss. Nobody hears him say it, and Konan won’t betray his secret, simply giving his cheek a soft peck before he goes.

Deidara

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” EVERYBODY chants at him when he and Konan happen to end up under the mistletoe together. He scowls and blushes; during his time in the Akatsuki, he’s come to regard this woman as being like his big sister, for God’s sake. This is the one who took care of him that time he had the flu, the only one in the house he lets experiment with his long hair. There’s no way in hell he’s going to make out with his sister; so he chooses to be humorous with it. He’ll put one of his hands on each of Konan’s cheeks, and, while the hand-mouths are giving her cute tiny little puckers, he’ll lean down and give her forehead a smacking kiss. The others are grossed out by the hand mouth thing, but Konan thinks it’s adorable. She knows that Deidara is extremely ticklish, so while his hands are occupied she’ll quickly reach down and poke his belly, which will make him yelp and scramble away. She’ll “make it up to him” later by bringing him some of the chocolate chip cookies she makes that he loves.

Kakuzu

Thinks that the whole mistletoe thing is childish and a waste of time. However the others will keep on him until he sighs and complies. He’ll lean down and quickly kiss Konan’s cheek, but as he turns to go, Hidan points out that the kiss didn’t count because “your mask was still on, douche. it has to be your lips.” Kakuzu sighs harder but nevertheless listens; he pulls down his mask just enough to expose his lips, leans down once more and kisses Konan’s other cheek this time. Konan will giggle; Kakuzu has the slightest bit of facial hair stubble that tickles her soft skin. She’ll smile and thank him, and he’ll gruffly Mm-hm, pull his mask back up, and go on to whatever task he was doing before. Later that night he’ll sit in his room, reading and smiling; it’s been a long time since he’s shared a sweet gesture of affection like a kiss, and to do so with a woman as beautiful as Konan? He can’t help but feel like he should have been charged for such a privilege.

Sasori

Never heard of the concept of kissing under the mistletoe, and, like Kakuzu, feels it to be a pointless waste of time. However he registers the look of disappointment on Konan’s face when he initially declines, and, because she’s one of the few Akatsuki members he genuinely likes, he swiftly walks up to her, and kisses her lips. There’s no pause or moment of hesitation like the others had before kissing her; to him, this is just an empty gesture, with no feeling behind it. At the end, not really knowing follow-up procedure, hel’ll actually stick out his hand for a handshake, which she’ll return, trying her hardest not to laugh at how seriously the puppet man takes everything. Later that night he’ll think really hard about the entire act of kissing, and starts thinking of ways to design puppets so that they can pass on poisons through lip contact.

Itachi

For all of the women (and surely some men) that lusted after him when he was a younger man (and in the present day), Itachi has never gotten close enough to anyone to desire something as intimate as a kiss. And kissing Konan — how would that work? Is there such a thing as a casual kiss, or should it only be done with somebody that you’re in love with? He thinks very fondly of Konan, but he’s nowhere near in love with her. Konan sees the internal struggle he goes through and gently tells him that it’s just a game, he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. He settles for a hug instead, which honestly to him has almost the same cosmic impact as a kiss would; this guy has been starved for affectionate touches and comfort for a criminally long time.

Zetsu

Black Zetsu and White Zetsu have a hell of a fight with each other over kissing Konan. Black Zetsu: We need to do this, we’ve never kissed a woman before! White Zetsu: But we’re not ready! This is scary! Black Zetsu: You think EVERYTHING is scary! You need to grow up and be a man! White Zetsu: But we’re not a man! We’re a plant! Eventually the two sides just give it up, and stalk back to their room. Konan breathes out a sigh of relief; she honestly didn’t trust that Zetsu wouldn’t have tried to bite her face off, should they have kissed.

Pein

Nagato would feel strange about kissing his longest-time friend, but as Pein, he knows that the others would expect him to take place in this lighthearted tradition. So he’ll quickly bend down and kiss her cheek — or try to. Konan will turn her face at the last second and he’ll end up kissing the corner of her lips. He won’t blush, but Nagato will; and out-loud Nagato will find himself muttering “Sorry, Yahiko”.

Tobi

As with Kakuzu, Hidan will be nearby and insist that Tobi take off his mask before he kisses Konan, or else it “doesn’t count”. But the situation is a bit different; everybody at some point has seen Kakuzu without his mask, but nobody has seen Tobi without his. It’s widely assumed that he has some sort of physical deformity that he’s hiding, and the others (except Hidan) are respectful of members’ personal choices. But Tobi compromises; he moves his mask just slightly to the side, which exposes his lips but nothing else. He leans in and kisses Konan, and everyone blinks, surprised. The goofy mess that they know as Tobi has disappeared. The person with his lips on Konan’s seems ... older. More experienced than ANY of them. Masterful and in-control. The expression on Konan’s face is somebody who is experiencing the best possible dream, and doesn’t wish to be woken up. Tobi eventually breaks the kiss but Konan seems unaware of this; her arms are still clutching his shoulders and her lips are still in their pucker. Tobi’s visible lips smile, and he reaches out a finger and traces it slowly across Konan’s pink petals. Then he quickly slides the mask back on all the way, and, in his signature idiotic voice, asks if there’s any more candy in the kitchen. He skips off to check, leaving Konan (and everybody else that had been watching) staring after him in confusion.

[sunmaylight]

TGCF Book 3 Reaction pt. 6 - We are going to Mt. Tonglu!

hahaha. So, funny thing. I got impatient and just breezed though the last two books and consumed all of the post-canon content I could find. But, even though I have finished TGCF, that doesn’t mean I didn’t leave notes that I want in big chunks like this. So I will continue working on this

Even though I read the novel, I will stay true to my notes to the best of my abilities.

Ch 138: Xie Lian remembering that he threw his meatballs like bullets without any spiritual strength, like how he went about the past 800 years

- Me: Why do people not realize that Xie Lian is buff. Buff Xie Lian art, where?

Qi Rong turns out to be a better chef than Xie Lian. Like possible House Husband material

- Me: Yo. WTF. I call hack! How did- *remembering Qi Rong’s backstory*... Okay, but how did he learn and hone his skills?

Heaven’s Eye cultivator group about to chow down on some hair when Xie Lian steps in with the pebble toss

- Me: Xie Lian saving cultivators from committing c*nn*bal*sm

Ch 139: Hua Cheng builds a little golden palace outside and then kicks it. The shady inn illusion crashes as well.

- Me: Can this get animated? 

Feng Xin mentioning of an ascension acceleration method with dead babies

- Me: Wait! What if Feng Xin’s ascension is the suspicious one instead of Mu Qing

Ch 140: Xie Lian finds Guzi to be sick and dehydrated. 

Mama Bear Xie Lian - Awaken

- Me: Oh shit. Xie Lian is pissed at his cousin.

Ch 141: Learning about who the father to the fetus spirit is. Learning that the fetus spirit is named Cuo Cuo. Secrets around Cuo Cuo’s birth abundant

- Me: WAIT! HE HAD S*X WITH LAN CHANG. HE F*KED?!

Xie Lian reassuring Hua Cheng, but Hua Cheng turning it around to saying that his actions are up to him. Xie Lian feels something.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng had a moment when suddenly they see someone sitting at the table making tea

- Me: No! Is it Jun Wu?

Jun Wu is pouring three cups of tea

- Me: He saw the intimate scene between the two

Red flower that slips on the edge of the flower pot is about to fall when Xie Lian caught it like it’s the most precious thing in the world

- Me: Foreshadowing???

Xie Lian basically saying that Heaven will fall if the Heavenly Emperor is dead. Xie Lian basically saying that Heaven is floating in the sky because of the Heavenly Emperor

- Me: Man, I really hope that the Heavenly Emperor doesn’t die and make Heaven crash onto the ground, only to be upheld by the power of Xie Lian and then create a parallel of that scene in book 2, or Atlus holding up the world.

Ch 143: Heaven and the Ghost Kings have a mutual beneficial relationship

Hua Cheng using this fact to exploit Heaven singing him praises for a year.

- Me: Cunning bastard. I would have asked for praises sung to me and Xie Lian if I was in his shoes

Mt. Tonglu has the Klin and both places is that one poisonous jar where the last poisonous creature that is alive after x amount of time is emerged as the victor. 

- Me: Battle Royale to the death.

Xie Lian sneaks with Ghost as a Puppet Master

- Me: Oh, nice disguise

Swift Life-Extinguishing Blade says he can find if a ghost is suspicious

- Me: Okay, but what if you are the suspicious one?

Xie Lian crouches down to hid behind the 8-12 year old looking Hua Cheng

Hua Cheng as the “Puppet Master” disguise: “No one shall touch what I love except for me”

- Me: Impressive acting there

There is a cloaked figure that Hua Cheng says they are wearing a fake face

- Me: Is it Pei Ming?

Swift Life-Extinguishing Blade dies from one slash. Xie Lian making an observation that sounds like a joke 

- Me: lol

Ch 14-Mt. Tonglu gate

Some ghost ladies get hurt and the cloaked stranger immediately asks: “Are my ladies alright?”

- Me: I was right. It was Pei Ming

Pei Ming about to tease Hua Cheng when Ruoye whips out to hit Pei Ming

- Me: I don’t know if that was all Ruoye or influence from Mt. Tonglue, but go Ruoye. 

Pei Ming’s mysterious candy he got to disguise his spiritual powers is revealed to be shady candy made form Ghost City. Consuming the candy is the equivalent to rubbing skunk spray all over yourself.

- lol

E-Ming has been affected like Hua Cheng. It is now a small sword

- me: Cute

Pei Ming can sense the atmosphere around Hua Cheng and Xie Lian

The Swift Life-Extinguishing Blade turns out to be alive still. Both halves are moving freely

- Me: It’s still alive. how?!

Pei Ming is revealed to be the “General Who Snapped His Sword”

- Me: *Four Tales of Heaven Background Understanding Update*

Wine: 100% Understanding & Truth of Creation

Flower Crown: 100 50% Understanding of Creation & History -Second Ascension & Third Ascension are Unknown-

Princess: 15% Understanding of Identity & History

Sword: 25% & Growing...Processing backstory now

A giant savage, dark skinned burly man in broken armour appears

- Me: Wait. Do I know this character?

It is revealed to be Ke-Mo

Xie Lian pulls a trick on Swift Life-Extinguishing Blade/Ming’Guang and Pei Ming saw it work. The trick was actually the most vile swear word of the Banyue kingdom that is the most disrespectful insult ever.

- Me: What did the army teach you Xie Lian?

Xie Lian calls out for Banyue & Pei Su knowing that they are not at Mt. Tonglu as a tactic to distract Ke Mo

- Me: lol. What if they actually come after Xie Lian called them.

When things start to look good, Xie Lian calls out on it. It is immediately changes into a bad thing

Tiny E-Ming grows with praises from Xie Lian.

Pei Ming does a big brain and smashes E-Ming’s hit to Xie Lian’s lips. E-Ming grows to a very long scimar 

- Me: Pei Ming caught on what Xie Lian didn’t. Also E-Ming reflect’s Hua Cheng, so, affection makes E-Ming grow. Hua Cheng

As Ke Mo and Ming’Guang are abotu to beat Xie Lian and Pei Ming, Banyu and Pei Su do that badass entry of jumping down a cliff and kicking the opponents.

- Me: lol, Banyue and Pei Su actually appeared. 

Banyue throws a scorpion-snake at Ke Mo fully knowing what she is doing and the 200 years of mutual dislike is behind it.

- Me: Ultimate betrayal.

Banyue: We came here with Rain Master

- Me: Wait. Rain Master is here?

Ch 148: Xie Lian thinks that if he does the same things he did to E-Ming to help him grow, it will help Hua Cheng grow

- Me: Awe. So cute.

Ke Mo vs. Banyue & Pei Su - Round 2: Banyue is too embarrassed to throw her snakes again at Ke Mo. Pei Su swoops in and yeets a basket full at Ke Mo who screams at them

- Me: For some reason I find this scene really funny.\

Xie Lian: Moves into kiss Hua Cheng. He kisses the forehead and is sad about it. 

Pei Ming learns that Banyue is that Banyue while she backs away from Banyue as Pei Ming comes close to her

- Me: Oh wait. Does Pei Ming still smell of those Ghost Candies?

It is revealed that Banyue is weary of Pei Ming because of the candy scent

- Me: Lol, it was the candy

Rain Master is brought up

- Me: *random thought* Does Rain Master & Pei Ming have some history together?

Rain Master is at Mt. Tonglu because Qi Rong stole some of her farmers.

Pei Ming is revealed to be the opposing General of the Rain Master

- Me: Oh, they do have some history together.

Xie Lian & Readers learn about the ‘Tale of the General Who Snapped His Sword’

- Me: LORE! 

Sword: 75% Understanding

Ch 149: Pei Ming insults Banyue for not knowing how to cook like other females

- Me: General Pei, I understand that in your time that might have been a norm. But modern times that is different.

Xie Lian says he will teach Banyue how to cook

- Me: Oh no. Someone please stop them.

Banyue is holding a pot of food

- Me: Oh shoit. Did Banyue?

Ch 150: Banyue’s chicken meal is a black mass of questionable origins

- Me: *sob* it’s over. Banyue is now added to the list. But at least she took up her cooking skills after her adopted dad.

Pei Su takes the dubious food and eats it after watching Hua Cheng try some.

- Me: RIP Pei Su

Hua Cheng telling Xie Lian about the history of Mt. Tonglu while Pei Su is dying in the background. Banyue’s cooking somehow turned into a spirit or eldrich horror

- Me: *sob* please. You two are so adorable together, but someone (Pei Su) is literally dying from food poisoning. You are like that one pool meme

Pei Ming has given up on Pei Su to hang with the oblivious couple

Xie Lian has heard of Wuyoung before from his past while training to Ascension.

- Me: Oh. Interesting. 

Little Xie Lian learned how to recite the Ethic Sutras like nothing because he was a curious child about a forgotten kingdom and the Guoshi made him shut up through sutras.

- Guoshi, how are you real?

Xie Lian: Pei Su is talking weird. Is it because of the Scorpion-Snake?

Banyue: Pei Su has immunity from them

-Me: God you two are so oblivious.

Ch 151: What if Jun Wu is from Wuyoung? Nah. He has a 500 year difference from then.

- Me: *Remembers Qi Rong calling Jun Wu a faker and thinks there is some truth in those words* What if he became an immortal 500 years before his ascension and just loitered around for 500 years until he achieved ascension status.?

The group is Scooby-Doo investigation with Ace Attorney observation skills on the temples. of the Kingdom of Wuyoung to learn why it fell

- Me: intersting. I hope they find something interesting.

-----

Alright. Going to stop there cause the actual journey to the Klin starts and it is a long journey where there is actually more than what I commented on. Man, I just really picked and choose what to highlight while reading

[crimsonprincessbenihime]

Puppet Imagery/Symbolism and Benihime

Kisuke Urahara is often described in very unique, often negative, ways: shady, manipulative, etc. 

However there was one description, well term, that was used that I found extremely fascinating and very befitting of him: puppet master 

This comes to no surprise to me as the title fits. I will not deny he took many underhanded actions or manipulated people. The reason he did all those things is not because he is evil or that he really wants to, it is always for the greater good. He carries a lot of guilt and regrets because of the actions he was forced to take. 

I will not really get into his faults, but he had a hand in setting up people into the necessary places for his plans to be executed with the least amount of damage/casualties. Even if the outcome really hurt the people who were used...Essentially, there is manipulation behind the scenes that was orchestrated by him. Thus, the comparison to him pulling the strings behind people or having a hand in events is not an inaccurate description. 

It's really fitting that Benihime, the reflection of his soul, is puppet-like or doll-like (whichever you prefer, though a puppet is better fitting). 

I have always wondered why Benihime was given jointed arms and hands (I also hc that her legs are jointed as well). The first thing when you see her, the vibes you get, is that she is powerful. Ethereal. Doll-like. Why? Kubo doesn’t include random details like this on a whim. It has to mean something. Something about Kisuke that is blatantly reflected onto Benihime. But it all clicked when I heard “puppet master.” Benihime herself is a massive puppet. Or at the very least symbolic of one. 

BUT, this does not mean that she bends and obeys the whims of her…”master”. In a puppet show, who is really controlling the story? The puppet or the master? Sure the puppet is the entertainment, the main focus of the show. Dancing and acting through the strings or hands that control them. We all think that it is the person that controls the story and the puppet. Are they really though?  

The control goes both ways. The master controls the puppet. The puppet controls the master. The master cannot force the puppet to do what doesn’t fit the puppets character. The puppet, once given a story, a narrative, effectively becomes its own person. The master...now has to perform the story that is true to the puppet. It cannot make the puppet do what it doesn’t “want” to do. THEREFORE, the master themselves becomes the puppet of the puppet. The puppet controls the master to tell its story. The master and the puppet are one in the same essentially. Both are playing the other. That’s essentially the symbolism behind Benihime. You can see how despite Benihime appears to be the “puppet” in this relationship, in the TYBW arc in her bankai form, she looks like she's puppeting Kisuke herself

Kubo went extremely hard with the puppet imagery and Kisuke in the TYBW arc in chapter 666. Literally titling the chapter “Empty Hall of the Puppet Temple.” The name of the chapter could also be referencing what she symbolizes. Puppet. Temple. Benihime is based on Kannon, goddess of compassion and mercy, after all... 

Anyways, when you think of puppets you think of strings. Strings control the puppet, right? Depends on the type of puppet. There are many different types of puppet and thus, many different ways to manipulate one. What I’m going to liken Benihime to is a traditional Bunraku Japanese puppet. Those almost life-sized puppets are usually controlled by hand by at least a minimum of 3 Ningyōzukai (puppeteers). 

Ironically, I do think Kisuke doing a lot of work to work with Benihime is very accurate XD (Work of 3 people given to him). Benihime makes Kisuke work to attain shikai. Bankai...would have been like pulling teeth, for years. No wonder Kisuke took the easy way out by using the Tenshintai. It would have taken years, if not at least a minimum of a decade before she would even think about giving him bankai. 

Kisuke, when you think about it, is essentially symbolic of a Ningyōzukai. Ningyōzukai are in full view of the audience but most of the time they wear black robes and hoods to indicate that they are not part of the story. But in more modern practices the main puppeteer, the omozukai, is visible and can even be wearing colorful clothing while the other puppeteers wear the black robes and hood. It kind of reflects how over time it becomes more apparent that Kisuke has his hand in things...  

This is all I have for now about the symbolism behind the doll/puppet-like imagery we get from Benihime. I may or may not amend this as I further explore this in the future.