#I don’t use it myself cause for some reason I really bothers me when I see it with my own writing???

[rotteneldritchhorror]

“[text] !” Is one of my favourite little typing quirks- just [space + exclamation point] is so cute to me, I love seeing it in other people’s typing styles

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[smokedscarlett]

late nights

summary: a small argument between spencer and the reader. the reader is bothered and stressed and spencer, at first resists, but then understands.

warnings: angst - > fluff, cursing, mentions of spencers job but no case particularly, if there’s anything i forgot please let me know! (some us of y/n). 

word count: 1.1k

You sit on top of your kitchen counter, legs swinging back and forth. You glance behind yourself and read the stove clock that reads a blaring 2:38. It’s understandable that you’re boyfriend Spencer wouldn’t be home at this hour, his job requires this of him, often leaving you to spend nights either waiting for his arrival or leaving out sweet notes for him to come home to as you curl in bed. However, tonight was different, well at least you felt different. Something in your mood caused you to be a little less then understanding about his late comings. All your friends tell you cute stories of date nights with their boyfriends and while you and Spencer do spend time together, you can’t recall the last time you went on a “date.” It isn’t your fault that you feel jealousy brewing in your stomach towards your friends every night. It is normal to feel a little neglected even though you knew the job requirements. You just need to remind yourself of this when Spencer walks through that door. Put on a brave face and act as though eating leftovers by yourself and your comfort show being your only company is an enjoyable night.

Tonight that reminder was forgotten.

The apartment door knob slowly turned and you got off from your seat on the kitchen counter. Spencer tries to sneak his way in, unaware of the fact that you are indeed awake.

“I’m awake,” you say, you can hear the edge in your voice.

“Hi (Y/N). You should be in bed by now angel, early morning tomorrow right?” Spencer questions his voice soft.

He seems relatively calm and not at all unnerved which isn’t what your expecting due to how late he arrived. You would assume that a case that takes this long wouldn’t leave Spencer in such a light mood.

“Good case today?” You ask, not responding to his previous comment.

“Actually, there was no case today. I got caught up in some paperwork and couldn’t stop myself from wanting to finish it.”

Your heart drops at this. As you were sitting here, alone and a little sad, your boyfriend was sitting at the bureau on his own accord doing paperwork.

“Oh,” is all your are able to muster.

Spencer finally looks up fully at you, before being distracted from putting his belongings down and taking off his shoes. His face reads a questioning expression as he tries to read your mood.

“Is something wrong,” he asks.

You try to refrain yourself and you try to be the understanding girlfriend, but the stress of this week has finally caught up to you, leaving you with inability to fake it for Spencer.

“You know I came home today to an empty cold apartment. Certainly not a rare occurrence but for some reason I really didn’t feel like eating dinner by myself and hearing about my friends dates with their boyfriends. I wanted to be with my boyfriend. But no, I understood the job calls and there’s nothing I can do to change that. To find out after all this that you fucking chose to stay at work late,” you feel anger rising in your throat as you cut yourself off before saying something you might regret. “So yeah Spencer I would say something is wrong.”

Spencer seems to be taken aback by your words, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to read you more.

“But it’s fine I don’t want to fight and I want to sleep,” you say quickly before he says anything throwing your hands up and starting your walk to your shared bedroom.

Spencer is quick to follow you and knowing him, this conversation is far from over.

“I’m sorry, sometimes I get caught up in my own world. I wish you would have told me you were feeling this way,” Spencer says trying to calm your anger.

Some part of you knows that he is right and you should have told him but another part argues that if Spencer can profile a stranger how could he not profile you. How could he not notice the loneliness you must be feeling.

“The last thing I would expect from dating a profiler is having to tell them the most obvious details of my life,” you respond, turning around towards Spencer quickly.

“That’s not fair.” Spencer doesn’t provide any further argument.

So you simply nod your head and crawl into bed, tucking yourself to take the least amount of room on the bed and face away from Spencer.

“Baby.”

You hear his soft voice say with a light sigh. He knows what he’s doing. Against your own will, you turn around and look at him with tears sitting on your waterline.

Without saying another word Spencer holds out his arms. You fight the urge to laugh slightly to yourself knowing that Spencer would rather die then hug you in bed with his outside clothes on, even in the midst of a fight.

As a form of compromise you pull yourself out of the sheets and into his arms. His lips are immediately on the side of your head and he is peppering you while whispering soft apologies.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, “ he places a kiss on your forehead, “Have I mentioned that I’m sorry.

You laugh slightly, still not able to form words.

“You’re right this is something so obvious I don’t know how I could have missed it. I promise I will make more time for us.

At that all you can do push yourself further into his chest and sigh.

Spencer finally pulls away to look into your eyes and double check that your tears have stopped. As on slips, he reaches out his finger to gently swipe it. 

“Are we okay?” he asks quietly. 

“As long as you promise not to choose to stay at work late,” you respond trying to make the air lighter. 

“Always,” he says seriously. 

As you stand there with his hand on your cheek, staring in each others eyes, Spencer suddenly wraps his arm under your legs and carries you bridal style. 

You shriek at the sudden movement. “Spencer!”

“Shhh angel the neighbors are sleeping,” he teases.

You swat his back as he carries you towards the bed once again. He gently places you down before going to bathroom to quickly get ready for bed. When he returns he finds you sprawled on the bed in half-asleep daze. He sinks down into the bed, pulls you close to his chest and kisses the side of your forehead. 

“Go to sleep now, we have date tomorrow,” he whispers in your ear as you both slowly drift off to sleep. 

a/n: this is my first every post so hii if u made it this far. any interaction is very much appreciated!!

[beachbabe000]

My Brothers Girl / / Christopher Sturniolo

summary: You're in a relationship with Matt, but you're slightly unhappy with some aspects. One night those needs are met, but not by Matt.

Warnings: Smut, cheating, relationship between brothers and y/n, fingering, enemies to lovers, use of y/n

There will be multiple chapters of this story. -----------------------------------------

         I walked downstairs to grab some water. Matt’s been busy on his games all morning and I’ve been working on my laptop. Suddenly parched I finally left his bed after a few hours, needing a break. After getting my water I close the fridge and turn around. As soon as I turned I walked right into someone causing me to fall to the ground, spilling the water.

“Watch where you’re going kid.” I heard. I looked up and saw Chris, he had a scowl on his face. Not even bothering to help me up he walked around me also grabbing a drink from the fridge. He did give a look over of my body before moving, causing my breath to hitch. He probably meant nothing of it, but why did it make me respond that way? Me and Chris are constantly fighting. Why? I have no idea, but for some reason we’ve loathed each other since we met. Which becomes annoying when I’ve been dating his brother for 4 years now.

“Maybe don’t stand so close to me and I wouldn’t have to.” Returning the attitude I stood up and grabbed a towel to clean the mess. “Maybe don’t be here all the time and you wouldn’t always be in my way.”

At this point we started bickering, getting into one of our typical arguments. Hearing our voices getting higher by the minute, Matt makes his way downstairs. “What’s going on in here?” He walks in asking me before moving his attention to Chris. “Can you just leave her alone man, why do you have to make things so difficult?” Chris raises his voice again, “She’s always fucking here! Just keep your pet out of my way and on  a leash.” Storming out of the kitchen. “What the fuck. Your pet? Where does he come up with this shit?” I ask angrily watching him leave the kitchen. “I don’t know. Sorry about him. Lets head back upstairs.” He pours me another water.

Night time comes around and I’m cuddling in bed with Matt as we’re relaxing for sleep. I turn to face him in his arms, burying my face in his neck and beginning to leave light kisses. He lets out a small moan and leans his face down to mine, capturing my lips in a soft kiss. He then picks his head back up sitting it on top of my head. “I’m a little too tired tonight babe.” I let out a sigh of frustration.

I love Matt, so much. But we’ve been together for years and haven’t fucked yet. I’ve even begged him, and every time he turns me down. Yet always teasing with passionate make out sessions. The only thing I’ve fucked at this point is myself during masturbation. My body literally screams for release at this point. “ima go to the bathroom. Be right back.” He lets me up and I climb out of bed.

I head down the hallway in the pitch darkness, I can’t see shit. This causing me to walk straight into something. At first I thought my lack of sight caused me to hit a wall. I heard a chuckle. God damn it. “I see you’re still blind to where you’re going. Matt still not keeping you out of my way.” I could feel his eyes on me, staring daggers. I then feel his finger tips lightly graze my cheek before disappearing. I felt his presence walk around me to continue his way. “Do better at being conscious of your surrounding princess.”

I stood there, face flushed and heat running through my body from the weird yet gentle contact. What just happened? I shake it off and continued my way to the bathroom.

Chris:

I have no idea what came over me to make that gesture towards her. Or to say what I just said. Can’t take it back now though. Why is she always here? Does she not have a home to go back to? It’s really finally getting to me at this point. Being around her is unbearable. Knowing she belongs to Matt and not being able to do anything about it, or be able to have my way with her how I’d like to.

I know they haven’t done anything together. Which is insane. Every time I try to ask him about it he completely avoids the question. I can’t say I haven’t thought about it myself. Imagining fucking my brothers long term girlfriend before he even does. The thought alone is exhilarating and it takes everything I have to not turn around right now and follow her to the bathroom. Pushing her up against the door, trapping her and having my way. Pleasuring her in a way she hasn’t been pleasured by another human. Being the one to take her virginity from her. I can feel the heat rush to my penis as I’m laying in my bed. I really wanted to go to Nicks room to sleep but I can’t in this state. Looks like I’m sleeping alone tonight.

The next morning I’m walking down the hall to head to the shower. As I pass by Matts room, his door is slightly ajar, just enough for me to see part way in. I was going to walk straight by, but then I saw her. Her silhouette. I stopped in my tracks looking in just far enough from the door that she wouldn’t notice me. I watched as she lifted her shirt over her head, revealing her perky breasts. Her nipples getting hard from the lack of warmth that was once covering her chest 5 seconds ago. I could already feel myself starting to get hard. I looked at her smooth legs as she began to pull down her pajama shorts. Her long hair swaying down as she holds them to step out. Fuck, I gotta get out of here. I get to the bathroom and jump in the shower to release myself from the discomfort in my pants.

That night Matt leaves to head out of town. He had some event he needed to go to. I was sitting in my room playing video games and listening to music. Then a thought suddenly crossed my mind. This is my chance and I can’t take this anymore.

I get up and walk quietly to Matts room. The light was already off meaning she was in bed. I walk to the door and slowly push it open, shutting it silently behind me. I tiptoe over to the bed and pull back the covers slipping in. She was facing the other way so I took the opportunity to slip my arm around her waist and pull her close. She made a soft moan at the intimate contact. “Matt? I thought you left what are you doing here?”

Not answering I pulled her tighter to me, leaning down to land small kisses on her neck. She let out another small moan. God that sound is amazing. My kisses slowly started to become harder bit by bit, turning into small bites in between kisses. She moaned again this time moving herself closer to me, letting her ass push back into my groin. I made a small grunt at the tension between the fabrics of our clothes. I run my hand down her side landing on her hip, squeezing it. She turns her head to face me. Thank god it was too dark for her to see it was me. She leans in for a passionate kiss, moving her hand up behind my head deepening the contact.

I let my hand start to sneak down her side more, rubbing down and back up her thigh, inching closer to her warmth landing on her inner thigh. I start to pull one of her legs up opening her for me. My hand runs higher up her thigh an inch away from her now. She lets out a slower, louder moan. “What are you doing?” She parts our lips just enough to whisper, I can still feel her mouth brushing mine. “Don’t worry baby, just let me make you feel good.” I whisper back. Luckily mine and Matts voices sound just enough alike that she doesn’t question anything. My hand moves up, running a finger down her fold through her underwear. She gasps against my lips and turns her head back the other direction, laying it against to nape of my neck. I begin to rub gentle slow circles around her clit. The sweet sound that escaped her mouth pushed me over the edge.

I turn her over and climb on top of her. One hand by her head and one reaching back down. I run my fingers on the line of her underwear, hooking one in and pulling them down. She immediately obliged and lifter hips to help me remove them. God she has been craving this. I can just tell by her haste movements.

My fingers returning to her pussy, I continue to rub circles on her clit again. “Ugghh yes” She moans into my mouth. “Does that feel good sweetheart?” I speak against her lips. “Yes. Please more.” She grabs the back of my neck to pull me closer. I slip a finger inside her, being careful not to hurt her. “Let me know if anything is uncomfortable” I felt her nod against my face. After a minute I slip in another finger. She moaned again, arching her back into my touch. “Fuck me”

I smirk into her mouth knowing she has no idea. It turned me on more. I leaned up to remove my pants and boxers. I move my lips down to her neck as I position my tip against her pussy. She sucked in a deep breath, her nails digging into my shoulders. “You ready baby?” I ask, fully ready to thrust into her. I have to remind myself to go slow when she sighs out a yes.

I gently start to push into her bit by bit. I heard a whimper come out of her and stopped. “You okay?” She nodded “Yeah, please don’t stop.”

I started moving again, finally in her I groaned. I sat there for a moment waiting for her to make the first move. After a few seconds she grinded into me, granting me permission to move. And god did I move. I started with small thrusts, her small moans hitting my ears, causing me to groan and moan.

 She arched into me giving me the go to which was all I needed. With that, I moved faster. Pulling completely out at one point to slam into her. A loud moan escaped her and I kept going. “Harder!” She almost screamed. “You got it ma”

I went harder, I went faster. “Oh god I’m gunna cum! Don’t stop! Oh god!” I somehow went even harder, if possible. I could feel my own release coming on. “Oh fuck” I let out a loud groan. “Fuck, yes, please, yeeesss!”

I felt her walls tense up around me and her legs shake a little, letting me know she was on her release. “Just hold on baby, ride this out with me” After another minute I pulled out, cumming onto her stomach. My hands land on either side of her head, I pant trying to catch my breath. Her arms are wrapped under mine, clutching onto my shoulders from the back as she also tries to regulate her breathing. “Fuck, finally.” She breathes out. I chuckle over her.

I stand to grab a towel from Matts closet to clean her off, tossing is to the floor after wards. Climbing back into bed with her, I wrap my arms back around her waist pulling her into me again.

Part of me is actually terrified how this is going to go from this point. I’m definitely not leaving this bed tonight though. Her reaction is going to be priceless when she wakes up in the morning to no one laying next to her.

I wake up the next morning early enough to move back to my own bed. Maybe an hour or two later I hear the front door open and steps moving on the stairs making their way to Matts room. I assume he plopped himself right on the bed next to her, she’s fully naked, a cum drenched towel on the floor next to her.

To my surprise nothing happened. What the hell? There’s no way she wasn’t confused right now.

[simp4fictionalmenandjesus]

yandere rin itoshi>>>

he will be soooo cold and not outwardly affectionate (at first) but on the inside he is absolutely OBSESSED.

like rin will seem literally so indifferent to you, but every-time you glance at him, he’ll be purposely not making eye contact because if he does he will be SOOOO RED, because even though it doesn’t show, your slightest acknowledgment cause rin to FREAK out. ‘omg omg omg she’s looking at me what do i do… she’s so pretty fuck i love her so much. if she keeps looking over here i don’t think i’ll be able to restrain myself🙏🙏🙏.’

you would think that when you start dating it gets better but bro… it gets worse💀💀💀. you’ll text him, not anything specific, just a normal text, something as simple as ‘hi, what are you up to?’ and he will leave you on read. it takes him around 8 hours to reply because he is overfilled with joy that you texted him. he is giggling and kicking his feet in the air type shit.

one day you texted him, asking if he wanted to get dinner, this was the first time that rin’s teammates have ever witnessed him smile. you texted him before his game against the U-20 japan team, wishing him luck and telling him you’d be cheering in the stands, and omfg. everyone in that locker room was like 🙀. rin was straight up smiling, and not one of those devious smiles his teammates were used to, this smile was a soft, ‘i’m so in love’ smile. you best believe that someone, (bachira), teased him PROFUSELY.

talking about the U-20 game, the first thing he did on court, before directing murderous thoughts towards his brother, was look for you in the stands. when he found you, he smiled softly, which you 100% could not see because well, you didn’t bring binoculars. after the match, he went to find you immediately, he didn’t even bother changing out of his jersey, so bro was sweaty as hell.

he hugged you incredibly tight, like bone crushingly tight. he lifted you up the ground and was kissing you profusely. this was actually the turning point in your relationship where rin started showing affection.

he introduced you to the blue lock team that day, just because he did not want to let you out of his sight for a second but he had to recuperate with ego and the team. so essentially. rin forced you to wait outside the locker rooms for him while he showered and since he was clinging to you straight after the match, his teammates finished before him and walked out of the locker room to see you, in rin’s jacket.

again, everyone went 🙀. you were bombarded with questions about your relationship, and by the time rin finished with his shower, you were already well acquainted with the blue lock boys.

rin was not happy about this at all. how dare they, his rivals, talk to you. he definitely dragged you away and kept you for himself, if his teammates and you exchanged numbers, he’d immediately block them and delete them off your phone.

he wouldn’t show his obsessive tendencies until you’ve been in a relationship with him for longer, the only reason he hadn’t kept you exclusively by his side so far was because he didn’t have the power to do so. he forces you to go to all of his games, press conferences, sometimes he’ll even drag you along to his practice whether you are busy or not, in fact, you probably won’t be busy because he’s made sure that you don’t have a job with long hours or a job at all. oh? what if you’re hanging out with friends? well, that won’t do… it’s time for some guilt tripping. “oh… but I need you there, are you friends more important than me?”

You’ll be spending every hour of the day with him, because after his games, press conferences and practices, he’ll bring you out for a meal, and then you’re going back home with him.

rin is the type of person who wants their loved one to rely solely on them. he’s really subtle with it too. he’ll slowly incorporate himself into every factor of your life, he wants your life to revolve around him, just as much as his revolves around you.

If you ever do realise how possessive and frankly, psycho he is, and try to leave him... well, i did say this man is a simp, rin will be begging on his knees, tears falling out of his eyes, hugging you tightly and not letting you go. honestly, you’ll be shocked because this is the first time you’ve seen him be sooooo emotional.

and if you try to get help from law enforcement? well, i hate to break it to you, but that’s never gonna work, because blue lock, and subsequently the government spent so much money to make these insane strikers and rin is one of, if not, the best strikers in the world. it’ll be covered up and you’ll be trapped.

as soon as you’re in captivity, his affection will dial up to 110%. now, he let’s his innermost thoughts out, because you’re finally all his. <3

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon "Ghost" Riley Pt. 23

Word count: 2686

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, death, use of weapons, use of a knife, graphic depictions of violence, blood, military setting.

They keep him locked away in complete and utter darkness. Not a single sound penetrates the two-foot-thick cement walls. Anything he hears is a fabrication of his mind. An audio hallucination caused by the psychological effects of the deprivation of his senses. I’m sure that’s not the only thing he imagines as his chilled bones rattle against each other and his joints stiffen from the cold. So when Ghost cracks open the vault-like door and flicks on the lights, I don’t doubt my father thinks he’s seeing things. Maybe that I’m not real or that I’m visiting him from the dead or that I’ve come for revenge. All of these could be true.

The frigid air penetrates through my long sleeves. It’s just warm enough in here to avoid hypothermia. It’s like 141 is refrigerating him, preserving him until it’s time to transport him back to their main base. That’s where the real fun will begin. In theory, at least.

Ghost keeps his word and leaves the room only after sharing the smallest nod with me. He trusts me. It’s not his choice to make. It’s mine.

I think I subconsciously knew what had to happen long before I could admit such an idea to myself.

All I’ve ever wanted since this began was for the hurting to stop. Not just the pain inflicted on me, but on every soul involved. I hated the idea of people suffering because of me. Even if they hurt me and even if they hurt others; I didn’t see the point in furthering the cycle.

But that’s just it. It’s a cycle that won’t stop until someone interrupts it. 141 thinks that’s what they’re doing, but they’re just as much a part of it as the Ultranationalists. I’d never tell Ghost that, but I don’t see any other way you can put it.

They won’t accomplish anything by locking him away and torturing him for days on end until he gives them some outdated information on my uncle that’ll just send them on another goose chase. The only thing they’ll accomplish is causing more pain.

141’s solution isn’t permanent enough.

“Y/n? Darling?” My father’s voice is weak. “Is that really you?”

For a moment I think he might cry. He looks broken. Genuinely broken. He looks like I’ve felt ever since I found out about who he is. All this makes me wonder how much his reaction is genuine.

“Don’t call me that anymore,” I respond and it’s enough to tell him that, yes, it really is me. And no, I’m not here to help. I take a step away from the locked entrance into the claustrophobic room.

I wouldn’t doubt these rooms are designed to be small for psychological reasons. The base isn’t lacking space by any means. Some psychologists at some point determined that people are easier to break when they’re caged up like animals.

“Don’t act like that darling,” his tone remains on the verge of cracking. “Can we talk? I want to know you’re okay.”

He’s lying. Something about the squint around his eyes isn’t right. Or maybe I want him to be guilty. Maybe I just want to feel justified. What would Ghost think about his body language?

It looks like it takes a significant amount of effort for him to rise his head. The once gentle, yet strong man I knew has since withered. I want to pity him. Some part of me even wants to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness. To cut him loose and let him take me back in time.

The stronger part of me won’t let that happen.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” I tell him. My voice doesn’t let on how nervous I am. The stress of the situation doesn’t seem to sink in. That’ll happen later.

“Look,” he admits. “I need your help. They’re going to kill me. Then you. We have to do something.”

Suddenly it’s we. Not me. Not I. Not your mother and I. No, she’s in New York. All he cares about is himself. I imagine Ghost standing beside me and striking him for lying. We.

“How many deaths are you responsible for?” I don’t bother entertaining his nuances. I feel uncharacteristically calm right now as I slowly approach him. My hands don’t shake or sweat. My mouth isn’t dry. My heart beats steadily. I am in complete control.

The switch blade weighs like iron in my back pocket.

“What are you talking about?” his mask starts to slip away. I need him to tell me. I can’t do this if he doesn’t admit guilt.

“The shootings: refugee centers, churches, homeless shelters. I saw videos, you know.”

“If you saw videos, what does my answer matter?”

“I want to hear you say it,” my voice is even. I almost sound unbothered by what I’m asking him to admit like I don’t care all that much. “Take ownership of your actions.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he tries to change the subject. For a moment I think he’s trying to make me feel stupid. Then I register something else in his voice. Something fearful and hesitant. What is he scared of? “This isn’t a mistake you want to make.”

“You’re ignoring me. Admit it. Admit what you did to those people. Admit what you did to me. To Mom,” The tips of my boots are just inches away from his chained feet. The air between us is charged with resentment.

“Look at what they’ve done to you, y/n,” maybe it wasn’t fear I sensed earlier. Maybe the emotion sneaking out of his chest was something entirely different. Because if I’m not mistaken now, he almost sounds disgusted. “You’re almost unrecognizable,” The flare of his nostrils confirms it. “Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you right now.”

I feel a dull twisting sensation in my chest. Like his cold hands have wrapped around my lungs and squeezed them. Breathing feels impossible as the thick muscle twists between his bloody fingers.

My heart pumps faster and molten blood races to my neck and cheeks. My calm composure is slipping and fast.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” the words snag through bared teeth. How dare he try to guilt me. I haven’t done anything wrong. The only reason I’m here is because of him. It’s all because of him.

“Nothing about me’s changed, darling. Your mother’s always supported me. You would too if you knew where the world was heading.”

“I doubt that.”              

“You’re looking at it wrong, y/n. Not everything is about making the world better. But our job, our family, will make it more secure. Those people were a threat,” he says matter-of-factly. A threat to what, exactly? They were innocent. They were children.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like you’re doing this for the greater good. There is no world where mass killings make things better,” I snarl.

“We work for what we want. We take things into our own hands. This little crew over here, 141,” he says with a measurable amount of distaste. “Is using you. Even now, y/n,” He says this like he knows. Like it’s the complete truth and to even think otherwise is utterly mad. “If you think you’re here on your own free will. You’re wrong.”

I blink. His absolute certainty is maddening. Never could I have imagined him to be so disconnected from reality. He truly is a stranger.

“I know why you’re really here, Little Bird, doing their dirty work like a good little whore,” he seethes. There’s a controlled sense of chaos to him that taunts me. I could pull the switchblade on him. I should. Just get it over with for god’s sake.

I close the minimal space between us. Only inches away yet the distance feels like miles.

“I’m not here on their business,” I say between my teeth. As I lean over him, it’s the first time in forever I feel like I am in control. “This all started because of you and I’ll be damn-“

Suddenly the tables turn swiftly and dangerously. He leaps from the chair and his hands are wrapped around my throat in a vice like grip before I can even process what’s just happened. My arms flail and it feels like slow motion as we fall through the air with him on top of me. How the hell did he get out of his restraints?

My head hits the cement hard and the sound of bone hitting rock echoes off the walls. Not just one, but two men are now strangling me and I struggle to make out which one is real.

“This is all your fault,” spit covers my face as he speaks. Redness runs up his throat to his cheeks as his eyes bulge from exertion. My hands desperately grasp at his arms to no avail. My ears ring as they search the floor for something, anything. Then I feel the tiny piece of metal, still in my back pocket.

Ghost’s training kicks in fast.

My brain barely regiseters the object in my hands as I thrust it toward him as quickly as possible while he’s still destracted. My vision is spotting as his grip seems to tighten even stronger. I repeat the desperate action several times more until the blade is lodged in his lower stomach and I finally manage to drag it across diagonally, completely bathing us in blood.

Only then, does he falter. The man’s hands reach for the wound as he crumples to the side and I take the chance to crawl towards the corner of the room furthest from him. I can’t feel anything but the hot, tacky substance that has fully saturated my clothes. My chest quickly rises and falls as my lungs fight to breathe, but for the life of me it doesn’t feel like any air is making it to them. Panic clouds my vision and my sight turns to static. Everything sounds distorted, like I’m underwater. For a moment I think that is exactly what happened and must be why I feel like I’m drowning.

Red emergency lights flash and an alarm blares in the background. In thirty seconds an armed team of 141’s soldiers will barge through the doors to address the security breach. When they see my father’s slumped body and the growing pool of blood around the bottom of his chair, they’ll look to Ghost for answers first, then they’ll look at me. There’s no hiding what I’ve done.

“Y/n, you’re hyperventilating,” his clear, calm voice breaks through the surface. My eyes flicker up to meet his and my whole attention focuses in on him. Simon. I don’t know where he came from or if he’s real, but right now he’s the only person that can save me. “Deep breaths sweetheart, we don’t have long before they’re here,” his gloved hands cup my bloodied cheeks. I almost don’t notice his skull mask. It’s not the scariest thing in the room anymore. I am.

I nod and Simon continues, “breathe with me y/n. Ready?” he searches my face before deeply breathing in, “and out,” he says through a deep exhale. “Keep breathing. You’re doing good, but I need you to listen very carefully about what is going to happen next,” I nod again and push through another wave of anxiety.

“A team of men is going to detain you and you’ll be brought to the med center. Once you’re cleared Price will have you locked in your room. You won’t get to see me again, but I’ll be watching, okay? You’ll stay there for a few days while the higher-ups have meetings, then eventually discharge you and put you under protective services,” Ghost’s thumb gently rubs back and forth, spreading blood across my cheek. I finally come to terms with what he’s saying. I won’t be able to see him again. They’ll have assumed he had something to do with this. Otherwise, how’d I get the knife? How’d I get through security? They’ll know it was him and they’ll punish him for it.

“But you-” My voice cracks.

“I’ll be alright y/n,” Simon is so calm that I can’t help but belive him.

I want to lean into his embrace, to feel his arms fully encompass my shaking frame and fully disappear into him. Does he mean it when he says I won’t get to see him again? My already clenched heart twists. How am I supposed to just accept that? There has to be something we can do.

I catch the silhouette of my father’s body from the corner of my eye and feel my breathing start to lose control again. I did that. I killed him. Even if it was technically self-defence, my intentions were already set upon deciding to visit him. He almost did me a favour by attacking me.

I’d be stupid to think Ghost and I could have a future after I’ve committed such a heinous crime.

In the distance I hear quickly approaching footsteps as a crew of men, armed and ready, sprint down the hall towards our direction.

“Simon, I-” my voice drifts off. There’s so much I need to tell him, but I’m at a loss. Under the mask, his eyes are calm. He knows. He always has.

“I know y/n,” his voice is low with remorse. The air is still. The alarm blares in the background and our faces are illuminated by the flashing red. My last ounce of hope is suspended by a delicate thread in the space between us. “Me too,” Simon’s brows furrow as he looks me over one sorrowful last time. His shoulders heave as he prepares himself for what he has to do next.

Ghost shifts back as he rises to his full height. The automatic riffle that is often clipped to his hip is taken into both hands and aimed directly at my heart.

“Simon?” my voice trembles. He isn’t there.

“Toss the weapon to the side and put your hands behind your back,” Ghost commands. He doesn’t have to yell or threaten me. I defeatedly do exactly as he says.

The sounds of the soldiers grow louder. Their feet loudly echo through the cement halls. The rattle of their equipment can be heard over the alarm as the leader of the crew yells something indiscernible.

Six more weapons are aimed at my chest as they storm the room. Five of the faceless, towering figures line the wall, completely surrounding me. The last one approaches my father, drops his weapon, removes his gloves, presses two fingers to my father’s carotid artery, and checks for a pulse. Thirty silent seconds pass, and nothing.

He is finally gone.

All their attention returns to me. Ghost remains in the background as one of the new soldiers approaches with a pair of cuffs dangling from his hands. He doesn’t say anything as he closes the gap. The metal is cold around my wrists as the cuffs tighten and click into place.

I fight every urge to look at Ghost. All I want is the comfort of his eyes, to know everything will be all right. I can’t risk it, my every action is being monitored. Even the wrong kind of eye contact can be incriminating. How badly will they punish him? My stomach twists at the thought.

The masked man yanks me to my feet. My knees almost buckle with the unexpected pressure. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I nearly fall. I barely have time to adjust before the familiar black cloth bag is tugged over my head.

Darkness.

I’m reminded of how I was brought to 141 in nearly the same state. It feels like so much has changed and yet nothing is different. My whole life was burned to the ground, yet for them, this is just another day. I am merely a small blip on their radar, almost small enough to disregard completely, but not quite.

I hope I never see them again.

[sleepysnk]

there’s some things i really wanted to talk about especially regarding my account and tumblr as a whole, so i decided to finally make this post as a way to sort of vent out my feelings on some things.

i’m not gonna lie, tumblr has become a very different place from what it was. i started creating content 3 years ago and it’s gone through so many changes (much expected). however, i don’t think tumblr has really changed for the better, especially when it comes to content creators. this used to be a really safe space for me to come on and create works for fandoms that i enjoyed, but recently, that safe space hasn’t felt, well, safe anymore. there is constant discourse everywhere on this platform and i’ve found that many people here are just extremely bitter? it’s almost like it’s become a mean girl center and it makes it difficult to interact with others.

obviously, this doesn’t go for everyone. i’m not trying to come at people specifically or cause issues, but i have seen my fair share of problems with people on here and some of it is just completely ridiculous.

next, i’d like to discuss the elephant in the room and that’s the lack of interaction/support to writers. it is just mind blowing to me that we as creators have to BEG our followers to reblog or even send us asks. obviously, some people are new to tumblr and don’t understand it’s algorithm, but there are people on here who just simply chose not to reblog for some reason?? it’s not only discouraging, but it puts less confidence in writers and then we aren’t motivated to create content. i’ve said this before, but there is no reason why a 2k note fic should have only 100 or so reblogs. likes mean nothing on this platform. it’s not Twitter. i genuinely have gotten so tired of repeating myself that i don’t even say it anymore because i know it won’t be acknowledged.

i understand people have lives, i do too, but it isn’t hard to send an ask to a writer about literally anything. i think the last time i had an anon ask was weeks ago and i genuinely get disappointed when i ask for interactions just to receive nothing? no one is obligated to speak with me or send me asks by any means, but a little “hey! how are you?” goes a long way. i probably sound ridiculous, but it’s just how i feel about the matter.

another thing that bothers me is when a writer doesn’t write smut or suggestive content, they hardly get any interaction. i’ve seen it myself before and i’m not sure why people just ignore greatly written fics?? i understand that smut is the main appeal. trust me, i 100% get it, but fluff writers hardly get any attention and some of the best fics i’ve read weren’t even smut related. i’m not saying every person here has to read fluff or angst fics by any means, but it makes me sad that people write these fics to hardly get any interaction because it isn’t smut content. the least y’all can do is reblog it.

to discuss my account, i honestly don’t really feel the most happy here. i don’t have as much motivation as i used to and i have contemplated removing my account, but i have some great fics i’d rather not have be deleted. i might start a new account for a fresh start, but i’m still not 100% on it.

and if you read this till the end, thank you! i probably sound like a whiny baby but i just wanted to express some of my feelings because it’s been weighing on me a lot recently.

[stars-and-inkpots]

Where I'll Stay (At Your Side) | Gale x Reader

You know Gale has his sights set on the crown. At first, you had agreed that it sounded like a good idea. But now, holding the book in your hands, you worry about history and it's tendency to repeat itself.

Despite the anxiety blooming in your chest, you hand the book over to Gale.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: light hurt/comfort, light angst, act iii spoilers

Notes: this wizard can carry so much hubris and self-worth issues. something kinda short that i wanted to write after playing through more of act iii (even though it is so very bugged rn)

Ao3 Link: Where I'll Stay (At Your Side)

Word Count: 1,042

Breaking into the basement of Sorcerous Sundries was no easy feat. But because it was Gale who wanted to do it, you were more than happy to try. Astarion was happy for the opportunity to go precisely where he wasn’t allowed to, and Karlach was eager to join because it sounded exciting. Together, the four of you managed to sneak your way into the librarians office and through the portal that led to the basement. 

There were traps, because the elaborate secret portal behind the very locked door wasn’t enough, and they were a pain to deal with. They were no problem for Astarion, however, who quickly disarmed them the moment they were noticed. 

Once you finally found the book, you were suddenly filled with a growing apprehension. Looking at it, the severe and intimidating cover, it made you doubt that this was right. 

You know Gale has his sights set on the crown. At first, you had agreed that it sounded like a good idea. But now, holding the book in your hands, you worry about history and it’s tendency to repeat itself. 

Despite the anxiety blooming in your chest, you hand the book over to Gale. 

---

Back at the Elfsong Tavern, Gale is flipping through the book with rapt attention. He hasn’t said a word to you while you sit on the bed with him. 

“Gale,” you say, breaking the silence. He looks up at you immediately. 

“Yes, my love?” He answers. He sets the book down beside him, and you feel relieved, for some reason, to see it not in his hands. 

You move closer to him, settling yourself in his lap, straddling his hips. He’s quick to move his hands to your hips. He looks up at you, big brown eyes catching the light from the lantern on the side table. You can’t help but kiss him, holding his face between your palms. 

“While I am not opposed to affection without reason, of course; I feel like I must ask if there is a cause for such sudden sentiments?” 

Gale has a knack for seeing through you sometimes. No matter your efforts, he always seems to know when something is bothering you, and he is surprisingly adept at prying the truth from you. 

“I’m worried about you,” you admit plainly. His smile fades. 

“About what?” 

“The crown,” you answer after a moment, hesitant even to tell him. He hums, brow furrowing slightly. 

“You trust me with it, don’t you?” He sounds vulnerable when he asks. The thought of your doubt in him is near painful to consider. 

“I do,” you’re quick to reassure. “I do, Gale, I really do. It’s just… will you still be yourself with power like that? How do you know it won’t change you?” 

“Well, of course it will change me,” he says, with a laugh as though it’s no concern to him. It likely isn’t, you realise. Gale doesn’t see what you see in him; the thought of him changing doesn’t strike him with the same fear that it does you. He watches your eyes betray your feelings immediately. “I’ll still be myself; just stronger. Isn’t that what you want for me?” 

“I want you as you are.” Your voice is strained. “I want you .” 

“And you will have me. This is no selfish endeavour, I assure you. I’m doing this for both of us.” His smile has returned, the thought of your future together is enough to give him hope. You hate that you don’t share the sentiment. 

You lean against him, resting your head against his chest. You’re quiet for a few minutes. Gale’s hand runs up and down your back, occasionally running through the hair at the nape of your neck. 

“If this is truly what you want, then I will stand behind you… But I’m worried that’s where I’ll stay; I’m worried that is where you will keep me, by no fault of your own. I’m worried I will never be at your side again. Gods cannot love mortals, not truly.” You feel Gale’s hand stop at your shoulder. “Gods cannot be tender, they cannot love in the way that mortals love.” You can hear him begin to say something, but you stop him as you continue speaking. “I don’t care about your powers.” You lean back again to look at him. “I fell in love with Gale. Gale Dekarios. Not Gale, wizard of Waterdeep. Not Gale, God of Magic, Master of the Weave.” Your palms rest against his cheeks again, and you press a kiss to his forehead. “If this is what you want, I will help you. But you must know that I will love you no matter what. You could lose all of your magic tomorrow, and I would still love you just as much. You are more to me than your achievements and your titles, Gale Dekarios.” 

Gale stares up at you, speechless. 

“You are entirely too generous. I deserve very little of your kind words,” he says finally. 

“You deserve all of them and more. I will repeat myself until you believe me.” You watch the tears gather in the corner of his eyes, with your own to match. He pulls you forward to kiss you. 

The book is abandoned, pushed to the side, and eventually hits the floor. Gale ignores it, far too concerned with you. You , who loves him for the man he is. Despite everything, you love him. Sure, he may not entirely believe himself worthy of such love yet, but the longer you stay with him, every reassurance you give unasked; it does slowly push him to believe that perhaps he is worth more than others have convinced him of in the past. 

You love him like no one else has. You love him, even with his flaws. You love him, would still love him even without his magic. You are the first to love the things about him that he would abandon; the things about him that are not perfect. He would be a fool to throw that away for the crown. 

What he knows he wants, as uncertain as the future may be, is to have you at his side. He doesn’t need the crown to have that. 

[hamiltonaf]

Payback | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: My apologies for not posting part 2 of ‘One More Dance’, I’ve been so busy and I’m currently working on it so hopefully it will be up soon. Inspo is from an old tiktok trend. Enjoy .xo

(Y/F/N) - Your Friend’s Name

The thud of heavy rain drops hitting against my window set the mood to do absolutely nothing today. Though it doesn't work like that today since I have an assignment due in a few days time. It would also be ideal to cuddle someone right about now but that's out of the question because of a certain someone.

After completing half of my assignment, which I was quite satisfied with, I decided to call it a day for work and take advantage of the gloomy weather.

Taking a look at Instagram was a bad idea since I came across rumours of Kylian dating another girl. So much for breaking up a month ago and wanting to 'focus on football'. His excuse still bothers me since it was a poor one after dating for almost 3 years. I don't see a change of performance on the pitch if I’m being honest. I guess everything happens for a reason, maybe we're just not meant to be.

I mean if he moved on then so should I, right ? It then hit me that I should spice things up and give something for people to talk about. We’ll excuse my petty behaviour and blame it on the weather for making me somewhat evil. Before causing some drama, I called (Y/F/N), "Ello !" she answered. "Hey girly ! How are you doing on this beautiful day ?" I asked. "Ugh I’m so bored, you have no idea” she whined. “But never mind me, how are you doing more specifically ?” She asked curiously. “I’m doing okay, but-“ “I can already tell something is up your sleeve” she cut me off.

“Damn you really know me well” I pouted. “Of course ! Otherwise I wouldn’t be your bestie. Anywho, spill the tea…I’m all ears” she said enthusiastically. “So word of mouth right now on insta is that he is dating someone else, there’s literally pictures of them at dinner together” I rolled my eyes. “Shut up ! What the actual fuck dude. That’s so messed up. He’s such an ass” she yelled. “Yeah yeah I mean it hurts but the only way for my petty ass to get over it is-“ “If you do the same thing” she finished my sentence.

“Exactly ! So remember that TikTok we wanted to try out ages ago where one of us is dressed up as the guy and take out a bunch of pictures to look like a couple” I reminded her. “Oh my god ! Our time has finally come ! Okay I’m on my way, I’ll literally be there in like 5 mins” she said lastly before ending the call.

As soon as (Y/F/N) came over, we went straight to my dresser and got working on her makeup. We started by accentuating her veiny yet bony hands and then contoured her cheekbones, as well as her jawline to look more masculine. I failed to mention how smart she is, she came through with a bouquet of my favourite flowers so I had something else to post about.

Once we were done with her makeup, she slipped into one of my high heels so she was much taller than me. With her oversized hoodie and cap on you’d literally think that she’s a guy - a hot one at that too. I changed into a black slip dress and took off my shoes to spice up the picture, and exaggerate her height.

When (Y/F/N) came up behind me in the mirror, we both burst out laughing over how accurate she looked to a guy. “Shit. Even I would date me” she said before getting serious and wrapped her arms around my waist. After a few pictures of my head tilted and her face nuzzled into my neck, we finally had the picture. Her side profile looked so sharp, it’s actually insane.

After all of this, I suddenly felt hesitant to post for some odd reason that even (Y/F/N) noticed. I think it was pretty obvious how long I was staring at the pictures. “Girl don’t hold back now, just do it. He should see that you also moved on” she wiggled her brows. “You got a point there” I said to myself. I then uploaded 2 stories, one of the bouquet and one of us together - both simply captioned with a white heart. “If I saw this for the first time, I’d literally scream. Everyone is gonna lose their minds, especially him” she smirked. “Feels good to throw this back at him” I smirked back. “Welcome to the dark side bestie” she patted my back. “Anywho I need to run, got a few errands. Love you and call me later to update me on the drama. I’ll desperately be waiting for your call” she said as she gathered her things. “Of course ! Will do. Thanks bestie” I quickly hugged her before she hurriedly left.

I proceeded to spending the rest of my afternoon binging on early 2000's chick flicks, it wasn't until the evening when I decided to check my phone again that I noticed how many notifications I received. My notifications were the highest its ever been, well shit. We love to see it I guess.

I received countless tags on reposts as well as comments from fans, and surprisingly messages from family - understandable how many messages I received since it’s so evident that it’s not Kylian in the pictures. Scrolling through my notifications I decided to ignore all until my eyes landed on Kylian’s contact name, 'Kyky'. Surprise surprise.

"Heyy" the text read, I rolled my eyes, I don't have time for a conversation starter. I left him on read and proceeded with watching my movies. It wasn't even 5 minutes and my phone started to ring. It was Kyky calling. My heart started racing, I was hesitant to answer the call because what are we going to talk about and why call now ?

"Hello" he greeted. "Hey" I answered plainly. "Are you busy ?" He asked curiously. "Well kind of.. I'm actually just getting ready to leave" I said with a devious smile creeping onto my face. "Oh. Erm okay never mind" he said disappointed. "Why ?" I raised a brow. "I'm actually outside your apartment" he said embarrassed "No way" I said lowly to myself. "Have a look" he said as I then walked towards my front door and was met with his face. I ended the call and looked at him in shock, "You- here- like..what are you doing here ?" I asked.

"Can I come in please ?" He asked pleadingly. "What for ?" I asked back. "To talk about us" he said. "Theirs no us anymore. Theirs nothing for us to talk about" I said as I was about to close the door. "Wait. Just give me a chance" he said softly. "Theirs literally no point. You moved on..I moved on-" "You have another boyfriend already ?" He asked in shock. "I'm offended that you think I'm not capable of moving on so soon" I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"So you must've known this guy whilst we were dating ?" He asked as he started to grow angry. "Yeah so ?" I scoffed. "You were just waiting for us to break up so you can date this guy" he said as he started to raise his voice. "You literally did the same thing. You made it seem like it was such a simple break up for your own good, but for the last 2 weeks you're rumoured to be with another girl !"I said as I started to grow annoyed. "Yes, but she's just a friend" he said.

"Funny how we’ve been together for so long and I never met this friend before" I said. Just then my next door neighbour yelled at us for raising our voices. "Please do yourself a favour and leave" I said as I shut the door. I then heard rattling of the door and in came Kylian. "You weren't invited inside" I said. "Well I had a spare key" he said as he held up the key. "That was supposed to be returned to me when we broke up" I said as I snatched the key from his hand and went to sit on my couch. “Also, how could you act surprised that I moved on when you’re literally here after I posted a picture with another guy ?” I questioned. He then sat beside me, "Can you just stop talking about that idiot ? I came here to talk about us…How do I make you love me again?"

"Love ? Dream on" I half laughed. "I'm being serious" he said as he looked between my eyes. "Forget about me loving you. How do I know that you love me ?" I asked. "Well I missed you all this time so I came back" he smiled. "It's not that simple. If you truly loved me as you say, you wouldn't have wanted to break up after all these years" I said. "Look I'm sorry okay ? I really am. I wish I could go back in time and reverse what I did...I just needed some time to myself to think about my future personal life and I kept imagining you in it..." he said as he gently moved a strand away from my face.

"Don't play with me right now" I warned. "No jokes. I love you. I really do, and I want to continue to spend the rest of my life with you" he said as he held my hands. "Okay cute. Anyways I have to go meet my boyfriend. It was nice of you to stop by..I'll think about it" I huffed as I got up. He grabbed a hold of my wrist and pulled me towards him to sit on his lap. "Stop lying" he smirked. "What makes you think I'm lying ?" I raised a brow. "I know your facial expressions when you lie. I just know you all too well because you literally could've left the second you opened your door instead of coming back inside" He said with a smile.

"Well I've changed my mind, I rather be with him right now" I shrugged. "I want my old (Y/N) back" he pouted. "She left the building the day you left her" I said lastly and got up to walk to my room. "Ouch" he pouted as he followed behind me. "I still love you no matter what. Always have and always will" I gave him a brief look before pretending to rummage through my closet. "So is this how it's going to be ?" He asked as he leaned back in my bed and watched me. "I told you that I need to think about it" I said as I continued to skim through my closet. "I'm not going until we stop fighting" he said casually "This isn't fighting. People don't get back together based off 5 minutes of talking to them after a whole month" I said as he stood up to stand in front of me.

"I like it when you're angry" he said as he got closer. "Don't" I said softly as I looked down. He lifted my head to meet his eyes as he cupped my cheeks, his thumb tracing over my lips. "You're making this harder" I pouted. Just when his lips were a mere centimetre away, he mumbled "It shouldn’t be hard if you have a boyfriend…Should I stop ?"

I hesitated to answer. To give up the game and kiss him or keep annoying him. “I can’t” I faked a pout. “Why not ?” His mood dropped. “I can’t do this to Nico” I said as I looked down. “Fuck Nico !” He yelled. “How the hell do you even know this guy ?” He asked frustrated. “We met at a party” I answered casually. “Besides him, it’s wrong of you to cheat on your girlfriend” I said looking everywhere else but him. He walked closer which made me take a step back, my back hitting against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of me, cornering me. “I just told you that she’s a friend and nothing more” he tried to say calmly. “I’m not convinced” I shrugged.

“Forget about her, she’s irrelevant right now. I came to claim back what was once mine. If I have to fight this stupid so called boyfriend of yours, then I will” he said as he inched his face closer to mine. There was a moment of silence. Both of us holding eye contact and switching between looking at each others eyes and lips. He leaned in and I didn’t stop him. It was a sweet soft peck. His forehead against mine, he sighed and said "I'll give you your space.” I surprised myself by grabbing a hold of his hand and pulling him back into place. “What’s wrong ?” He asked. “You’ll fight for me ?” I teased. “I know that I’m not fighting anyone because you’re lying, but if I have to then I will” he said as his hands were on my waist.

“How can you tell I’m lying ?” I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck. “Besides reading your facial expressions, we wouldn’t be in this position right now” he said. “Or doing this” he said softly before placing his lips on mine. I pulled him closer against me and just then he broke away from the kiss. “I think I should go” he teased. "No no wait just a little more" I hushed him as I pulled him closer to connect our lips once again.

[rowanraven08]

Unsolicited tma rant no one asked for:

I’ve been thinking a bit about exactly what makes me like the Magnus archives so much, cause I’m not really into horror anthology. Yeah, it’s a good aspect of the genre, but it’s never really caught my interest that much. And I consider myself a fan of horror, but I don’t actually like that many horror movies that much. I like it as a genre, and watching video essays about it, about how different horror affects us, that sort of thing. Horror doesn’t even make me scared usually. I’ll flinch at jump scares of course, but it’s pretty rare that I’m watching a horror movie and be genuinely afraid of the murderer or demon or whatever’s on screen.

Tma even took me a while to get into. I started it maybe in October or November? And it took me until January to get even a dozen episodes in. It was good, but I was really just waiting until it got to the good bits that made everyone love it so much. I knew there was some sort of meta plot, and had a cannon gay ship, that was all I knew when I started, and the reason I kept on with it. I hate to say it, but if I didn’t know even that, I don’t think I would have listened to more than a couple episodes, because short self contained stories isn’t what I’m interested in. Especially when there’s a magic Latin book and a coffin with knocking (I thought it would be a vampire or something) or some weird thing luring people into alleys to kill them. I took those early episodes to be generic devil worship sort of horror, that the weird details were added in just to add to the spook. That’s something that tends to bother me with horror movies, when there’s all this dark magic just for the sake of dark magic, and ends with this big question or realization that can’t be solved. And I do understand ending movies with something the audience can’t understand, because the mystery and strangeness can add to the horror. But I really dislike this, I’m all cool with hard or impossible to understand endings, don’t get me wrong, but when there’s no way to theorize, no dots to start connecting, I find that really frustrating. A good example (I can’t find what movie it is, so if someone know lmk) is a movie with the classic family moves into large old house, creepy basement, with satanic sort of imagery. I did actually like most of it, the stairs to the basement were normal, until there was a ball knocked down them when the light was off, and you could hear it keep going far longer than the actual staircase was. That these stairs kept going for who knows how long when the light is off. What I didn’t like was the end, where we got to see what was at the bottom of these endless stairs, and there’s long lines of people in this void, just standing there. But there was no explanation for this, no way to start theorizing as to what this could be, why it happens.

This is what I thought TMA was gonna be. Each episode never really ended with an explanation, or a way to theorize (early on) and I thought it would stay that way. I remember in January I was finally listening to more on a plane ride, and got to ep22, Martin’s statement about Jane Prentiss. It wasn’t even this specific episode that got me interested, not fully. I did like the worms, description of Jane prentiss, all that but it was when I kinda realized there was something to theorize about, that there was actually something going on behind the scenes. And it kept me listening. It was a bit frustrating how slow the season seemed to go, because I wanted to know what the worms were about, and I admit I rushed through a few episodes, again, thinking they were just filler short stories to break apart the real meat of it. The episode I think that really sealed the deal was strange music, specifically the bit between Sasha and Jon, I wasn’t too interested in creepy clown dolls, but that silly little debate over how to pronounce calliope was honestly charming. Like “oh, these characters aren’t gonna be overdramatized horror movies characters, at least not too much.” Once I got to the season 1 finale I was obsessed and basically finished the rest in two or three weeks (I listened to the last 120 episode in a single week).

And good lord Jonny I am SO SORRY I DOUBTED YOU. Because none of it was creepy books or creepy dolls or weird coffins for the hell of it, you weren’t actually left with no idea of what the ending meant. You just had to listen to Jon as he because paranoid and pulled out the red string, pulling all the pieces together for you until we finally got the big picture. I never once expected the fears, or avatars, or that Robert smirk was anything but a weird architecture, that Jonah Magnus was anything but a stuffy old man who founded the institute. And that’s why I think I love TMA so much, is there really is a big satisfying pay out as a listener, I didn’t even put the dots together myself and it’s still gratifying. The slow realization that these episodes aren’t just horror for the sake of horror, they have a reason, an explanation, and it still manages to keep a level of mystery and unknowability that makes you just always want to know more. Re-listening has been genuinely so fun, because especially with later episodes I’m able to connect those dots, and see the full picture as it unravels. The thing in the dark alley wasn’t targeting smokers to be spooky, it was a monster collecting victims to use in a ritual, and that addiction is part of the web.

So yeah, that was probably really redundant, but I just really love that slow reveal, all the little bits you can connect, and theories you can make. Jonathan Sims forgive me for ever doubting your writing, I see now you’re a genius, please give me your brain, I need it for my own creativity. Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[chavahlahdraws]

okay i see you’re obviously a fan of hmc, as you should, but i have a question cause i read the book but people on tiktok pissed me off (as booktok usually does i’m about ready to get rid of it) and a lot of people were saying it’s weird that people love the relationship even though sophie “didn’t really love him” because she was charmed. but i was like no y’all i thought she really loved him?? like she stays with him to have a kid right so???

ok. here is a real way to comment on this yippee! this is actually aweslome because i get to do my little sophie rant.

first of all and most importantly - sophie was never charmed by howl. quite the opposite, really, which i would argue is how she fell for him in the first place.

“Oh, confound that gray-and-scarlet suit!” Sophie said. “I refuse to believe that I was the one that got caught with it!” The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same. She stumped a few steps further. “Anyway,’ she said with great relief, “Howl doesn’t like me!”

this is by far one of my favorite sophie moments in the whole book: and i understand the confusion here for more than one reason (will explain more later!) but clearly she’s using the gray and scarlet suit as a euphemism because she’s in denial. after everything she’s seen of him, sophie refuses to believe that she could fall in love with someone who is so intrinsically flawed—however, as we find at the end of the book—they’re the same in that respect.

howl is by no means a bad person or an evil person in the slightest, and despite herself sophie falls in love with him because of his kindness (like most people do, anyway) here’s some times that they bond …

More about Howl? Sophie thought desperately. I have to blacken his name! Her mind was such a blank that for a second it actually seemed to her that Howl had no faults at all. How stupid! “Well, he’s fickle, careless, selfish, and hysterical,” she said. “Half the time I think he doesn’t care what happens to anyone as long as he’s all right-but then I find out how awfully kind he’s been to someone. Then I think he’s kind just when it suits him-only then I find out he undercharges poor people. I don’t know, Your Majesty. He’s a mess.”

“Behold the new Royal Wizard,” he said. “My name is very black.” Then he began to laugh, much to the surprise of Sophie and Michael. “And what did she do to the Count of Catterack?” he laughed. “I should never have let her near the King!” “I did blacken your name!” Sophie protested. “I know. It was my miscalculation,” Howl said.

Howl pointed a shaky hand up toward the canopy of his bed. “That’s why I love spiders. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try, again.’ I keep trying,” he said with great sadness. “But I brought it on myself by making a bargain some years ago, and I know I shall never be able to love anyone properly now.” The water running out of Howl’s eyes was definitely tears now. Sophie was concerned. “Now, you mustn’t cry-”

“If you come out here alone, bring your stick to test the ground with,” Howl said. “It’s full of springs and bog. And don’t go any further that way.”

As she had feared, the hard black-and-white daylight coming through the broken wall showed her that Howl had not bothered to shave or tidy his hair. His eyes were still red-rimmed and his black sleeves were torn in several places. There was not much to choose between Howl and the scarecrow. Oh, dear! Sophie thought. He must love Miss Angorian very much. “I came for Miss Angorian,” she explained. “And I thought if I arranged for your family to visit you, it would keep you quiet for once!” Howl said disgustedly. “But no-”

Howl rose up on his hands and knees with a scramble. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I’ve got to rescue that fool Sophie.” “I’m here!” Sophie said, shaking his shoulder. “But so is Miss Angorian! Get up and do something about her! Quickly!”

Howl looked a little sad, but he said, “We were both hoping you would. Neither of us wanted to end up like the Witch and Miss Angorian. Would you call your hair ginger?” “Red gold,” Sophie said. Not much had changed about Howl that she could see, now he had his heart back, except maybe that his eyes seemed a deeper color-more like eyes and less like glass marbles. “Unlike some people’s,” she said, “it’s natural.” “I’ve never seen why people put such a value on things being natural,” Howl said, and Sophie knew then that he was scarcely changed at all.

and finally…

“Sophie,” said Martha, “the spell’s off you! Did you hear?” But Sophie and Howl were holding one another’s hands and smiling and smiling, quite unable to stop. “Don’t bother me now,” said Howl. “I only did it for the money.” “Liar!” said Sophie.

howl and sophie are meant for each other! they compliment each other immensely, and it’s difficult to describe how well they do so concisely. what i can pin it down to is this: nothing is secret between them. they operate like best friends as well as they do as lovers; they never let anything slide between them! sophie refuses to take howl’s shit when he crosses a line, (and howl vice cersa, especially when sophie is putting herself down) but they also know each other well enough to truly know their intentions when they say anything. a great example of this in hmc is this whole conversation:

“Why did you pretend to run away? To deceive the Witch?” “Not likely!” Howl yelled. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell my self I’m not doing it!” Oh, dear! Sophie thought, looking round at the swirling grit. He’s being honest! And this is a wind. The last bit of the curse has come true! The hot grit hit her thunderously and Howl’s grip hurt. “Keep running!” Howl bawled. “You’ll get hurt at this speed!” Sophie gasped and made her legs work again. She could see the mountains clearly now and a line of green below that was the flowering bushes. Even though yellow sand kept swirling in the way, the mountains seemed to grow and the green line rushed toward them until it was hedge high. “All my flanks were weak!” Howl shouted. “I was relying on Suliman being alive. Then when all that seemed to be left of him was Percival, I was so scared I had to go out and get drunk. And then you go and play into the Witch’s hands!” “I’m the eldest!” Sophie shrieked. “I’m a failure!” “Garbage!” Howl shouted. “You just never stop to think!” Howl was slowing down. Dust kicked up round them in dense clouds. Sophie only knew the bushes were quite near because she could hear the rush and rattle of the gritty wind in the leaves. They plunged in among them with a crash, still going so fast that Howl had to swerve and drag Sophie in along, skimming run across a lake. “And you’re too nice,” he added, above the lap-lap of the water and the patter of sand on the water-lily leaves. “I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place.”

sorry for the chunky quote, but this is super super important for our two silly little characters and their dynamic!!

and as for the misconception that sophie was charmed by howl:

mrs. pentsemmon actually hints when she meets sophie that she cursed the grey and scarlet suit herself (out of jealousy, though she’d never say it) and the original passage says that;

The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same.

Sophie knows for a fact that she felt the same about Howl when he was wearing the blue and silver suit that she did when he wore the enchanted one, and she knew from that that she most definitely wasn’t affected by the charm.

also! a little note about misconceptions in general: the first time i read hmc, the ending scene felt out of nowhere. but that’s how subtly dwj worked in the character development throughout this story! at it’s core hmc is a character based story, and howl and sophie are the most important characters (sophie especially!) but in the first read through i think we all focused on the plot a little more since we didn’t know that was what it was. every read through since, i’ve seen how howl and sophie fall in love in real time! and it’s undeniable then. :3

anyways! relationships written by a woman always win fr. thanks for listening to my rant if you made it this far. and my good friend @thatfoolsophie if you have anything to add, please do to this already crazy long post lmao :3

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Queen of Hearts pt I

Yuu started preparing a room this time. She made it a point to get the Queen of Hearts the one closest to the garden, the beginnings of rose bushes planted and some of the trellises already growing vines and small roses, but nothing is really blooming yet. Ramshackle, previously being used for storage, works in Yuu’s favor when it comes to all sorts of things. Spare furniture for all the dorms, repair and maintenance for the boiler, gardening tools, even spare seeds.  

Professor Taka has been helping her take inventory of it all, what’s even usable and what goes in a burn pile, and has collected a few things himself. Savanaclaw pieces that must be a century or so out of style, but he seems happy to have a room with bright oranges, ruddy reds and golden yellows instead of the Ramshackle blue and green. When they work on her spells in the safety of a chalk circle or even just studying together, he looks regal and powerful.  

That’s how the Queen of Heart statue looks now, imposing down at her with a smile.  

“Come on Cub, what’s taking?” Taka asked, leaning against the Thorn Fairy’s statue.  

“I’m getting there!” Yuu said, clutching the hand mirror, “It’s just different, intentional. I don’t want to hurt her or myself or something.”  

“I’m right here if anything should go wrong, and that’s a big if,” he added, patting her shoulder firmly. “You aren’t even fully releasing her, just taking an imbuement to begin to get used to her magic. Think of it like a blessing.”  

Yuu nods her head, taking a deep breath before settling herself at the foot of the statue. Positioning the mirror gently to to reflect her on one side and the statue on the other, perfectly symmetrical. 

“Just as practiced.” he mumbles, taking the breath with her, “Clear your mind, let your instincts take the lead. Pursue what you need.”  

She had done this so often that it was like slipping into a sleep trance, the ripples of liquified glass below and above and around. It was a bit different than the Ramshackle mirror though. She could hear things. People? Soft murmuring, maybe converstations stalling, a sharp exclamation louder than the others though. It didn’t sound angry, just surprised.  

Another breath, another inch forward through.  

Cold grazes her hand. Sharp. A sharp movement of air. 

Her sternum shatters on impact 

Yuu breaks the connection with a cough, clutching her chest. Taka uses her body to support her, watching the mirror shatter and slowly reform. The air is thick with the smell of roses, a tinge of iron, and a spiced smoke. When it finally settles into the grass, it’s beautiful, polished to a shine and a sharp diamond at the end that would cause major damage. It’s a double headed heart shaped axe.  

Professor Taka looks as confused as she does, until it starts to shimmer with strange magic slowly, as if to make sure she is watching, into a heart shaped fan.  

“Your battle axe? Really Mary?” Taka mutters, rubbing his forehead. Not what he thought she would pick, but it could still work. Yuu picks up the metal, finding it lighter than she thought. It glints with purpose, edges sharp despite it’s appearance.  

“How is it doing that?”  

“Illusion magic, it’s a specialty of those born true UnderGround natives, though the practice has died out due to its rarity. I’ve yet to see anybody beyond the cat beastman you described having anything close to it.”  

“Can she teach me something like that?” She looks up at him. 

“I imagine she has a plan. Afterall, there is a reason that Heartland, then Wonderland, is known for its conquests.” He helps her up, her knees slightly shaking. “Let’s get you home, you’ll need rest. You can enter Mary’s room later and get explanations then.”  

She signs, simply nodding unhappily. There’s no arguing with him when he’s like this, so she doesn’t bother. She also knows the man doesn’t really sleep at night and simply waits until she’s at school, so no sneaking in either. Sometimes she misses having Ramshackle to herself, but it’s a fleeting thought. It’s so nice to have an adult there sometimes, even if it’s just him taking some of the decisions. After running around and doing extra studying on top of it just trying to catch up with subjects other people learned in elementry, sometimes even picking dinner is too much.  

The fan remains cool in her hand, and if her back is a bit straighter and her walk more deliberate, neither of them says anything about it.  

When she enters Mary’s room, she settles herself in front of large mirror they found with heart and card shaped motifs curled around it. The fan? Battle axe? Is set in front of her as the focal point.  

Taka had made her wait at least until she had three full meals and rest, and she was dying of curiosity. No matter how she fidgets with it, or moves it, it remains a fan. Lightweight, easy to use, functional and dare she say, cute. But she can also feel the heft of the axe, the danger, and she has to know how it hides like this. She can’t find this type of magic at all.  

She slips into her trance and with the next breath, it’s the smell of roses.  

It looks like the Heartslabyul gardens. Alot actually. The beginning of the maze looks roughly the same, but the floral walls stretch for what looks like miles down, red and white roses dotting the scenery. It's lush, but the smell isn’t only floral. It's that sharp smoke again, that iron taste in the back of her throat.  

It reminds Yuu a lot of when she fought Overblot Riddle.  

“There you are dear!”  

The Phantomblot that puppeted Riddle did not do her any justice. Queen Mary Elizabeth Hearts was a large woman, both tall and wide, with a double chin that would have made her look soft, if it wasn’t for the intense strong eyebrows and sharp eyes. The little golden crown was still present, with a simple twist bun to tidy her black hair. The dress surprised Yuu more than anything. The classic red and black corset was still the right shape, but it was a chest plate, leading up to a high collar that looked more like stiff and closed around the neck, more like a neck guard than a high collar. One arm was covered in teh same strange metal coverings, the other wrapped with leather around the wrist with a black lace edge to make it look almost like a glove. The skirt was open, swinging as she quickly walked towards Yuu, but the thigh high boots alternated in yellow and black laces.  

It's not what Yuu expected at all.  

“Oh Brave Heart, let me take a look at you!”  

She knelt, finally eye to eye with Yuu, taking a look at her head, her hands, and her knees.  

“Oh, the fall wasn’t bad. Good, good. You know, we weren’t sure if this would quite work! I’m happy to see you though, so happy!”  

Yuu hadn’t been hugged in a long time. Professor Taka wasn’t a touchy sort, Deuce and Ace may tackle occasionally, but this was the first hug she had gotten in months.  

She didn’t smell like home. She didn’t feel like her Mom.  

Mary fluffed out her skirts, setting the poor girl on her lap as she felt the hiccup travel down her back and break into a sob. She understood, bless the UnderGround she understood, rocking her back and forth.  

If nothing else, she could give her this. She could allow her this.  

[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 19: Welllp...

Summary:Things aren't going well...

Notes:Warning here. This is bad.

Barricade was less like himself. Sure he’d growl and he’d threaten anyone who came by, but it was done in such an odd mix of exasperation and a tired fashion that it was a cause for concern. He tore at the bandages and everything, but it was with less drive. It was more out of stubbornness and habit than anything that he kept doing it. He seemed far too tired to try much harder. He spent a lot of time on the sandy bottom and barely moved. He even just let Prowl rewrap the bandages without a fight. To make things more worrisome than they already were Prowl had taken to laying with him rather than within his nest.

Barricade glared at me as per usual when I walked up to the tank. I chewed on my lip as I watched him back. His eyes didn’t have as much fire in them as per usual. I touched the tank and he just narrowed his eyes. No growling. No lunging. He did not look well. Thankfully he had another appointment today. I leaned on the tank with a sigh.

“Just what have ya gone and done to yourself this time? All ya do is cause trouble. Can’t ya just… I don’t know, not? I mean look at yourself. You’re not doing that well the way you’re going it. Prowl’s worried. Aid’s worried. Arcee and Blurr are worried. Everyone’s worried about ya here. I mean this is starting to bother me. Sure I’m more worried about Prowl if ya kick it, but I don’t want ya to just die either.”

He hadn’t moved through my little one way chat. He just watched me. Prowl had draped himself over Barricade long ago and had refused to move. He would occasionally pull out a loose scale. Barricade normally didn’t like it when he tried to groom him and would make little grumbling noises until he was done, but he was silent this time around. Just letting him check and recheck without so much as a twitch. That had been a big red flag. Then of course there was the fact that their neighbors had been looking over at them more and more often. Now it was near constant watch. Prowl didn’t pay them any mind. He had been ripping apart the fish and bringing the scrapes to Barricade for a while before he even stopped doing that.

“Ya know maybe if ya actually tried to heal you’d be fine right now. I don’t know what possessed ya to go and do this, but you’ve really got yourself in a bad situation now. I can see the signs here. You’re really not yourself and add that to the guys next door watching ya and being more passive toward ya and I’d say with confidence that ya ain’t doing so well. I really hope ya didn’t do any permanent damage here. That’ll be another reason for Ratch to curse ya. Ya know you’re his worst patient he’s ever had. He keeps cursing ya and swearing that you’re Trying to kill yourself. All he does now days is complain about ya. That just means he cares though, but then again once ya get better he’s gonna hit ya so hard you’ll forget what ya did. I mean your ass is grass. No joke.” I chuckled to myself as I let my gaze linger on the door. “Ya had better pull through though. I mean think about it. Ya can possibly have another go with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Then of course ya could see the sea again. Just Think about it. Traveling the ocean with a complete pod again. Hunting and finding a new spot for a nest. There’s a lot of things ya will be missing out on if ya kick it now.”

He didn’t so much as twitch. That halfhearted glare had fallen like he was far too tired to keep it up. He just stared back at me with a dull and near lifeless expression. He really needed some help and hopefully he’d let them help him this time. Barricade didn’t even move to fight us. Prowl on the other hand had. Though it wasn’t aggressive and he didn’t do any damage physically. He whined and pleaded and followed us up to the top. He gave a heartbreaking cry when we took him. The other mers watched silently and it was a relief to finally shut the door.

44444444444444444 The Fours Are Gaining More Numbers! Fight Back! Take Back The Writing Government!4444444444444

Prowl paced and whined, looking at anyone who came in for answers that we didn’t have. Nothing that was good anyway. Barricade had opened and reopened his wounds so much that he had left himself open to illness and infection from what normally wouldn’t have done any damage. Pair that with the blood loss and how he refused to eat and was forced on a regular basis and he was in worse shape than any of us had thought. His wounds leaked a sour smelling pus and he whined when they were cleaned. His wing fin had a deep infection due to the damage. It was easier the prevent infection than to get rid of it, even I knew that.

He didn’t fight them and Ratchet was unnaturally quiet as Aid rambled on and on to himself under his breath. That was enough for us and we didn’t know what to tell Prowl. But Prowl had caught on and made it clear that he didn’t want to wait. His neighbors that had recently lost a pod member watched him intently as he leapt from the water onto the feeding stand and pulled himself down the steps and to the door. He had apparently been watching us and had figured out the doors because he pulled down on the handle as he leaned on the door as we rushed toward him. He dropped when he got it open a crack and pushed it open the rest of the way. He shoved at us with hisses as we dragged him back to the tank. He had done that on more than one occasion and now we had to have someone there at all times to watch him when the doors weren’t locked.

Barricade on the other hand was quiet and none of us were even mildly surprised when he passed. When we brought the corpse to Prowl he didn’t move for a while. When he moved to look over his pod member he froze halfway there. Then he did something that none of us expected. He jumped up onto the ledge with us and shoved himself into me with a broken cry. Clinging to me when I moved with another broken sound. Begging me not to leave him... So I held him.

Notes:I spent two days going over pros and cons. Even though he was an asshole it kind of hurt to kill him off... But if he stayed then Prowl wouldn't have been able to get close to Jazz again even if he did forgive him.

Then one day I went to my doctor for anxiety and work and then another day I spent eating pie and watching netflix. So... That's why I'm late. And it's not over yet so relax.

Next

First

Masterpost

patreon.com/BrightDarkness2013

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Interview with the Devil’s right hand

*Recording starts*

Interviewer: Is it alright if I record this?

Subject: Well you’ve already started so why bother asking me?

Interviewer: I’m sorry, it’s a force of habit.

Interviewer: I can turn it off and take written notes if you want.

Subject: Nah, recording is fine.

*Background noise of children playing*

Interviewer: May I ask why you chose such a public place for this interview?

Interviewer: It seems so out of place given your line of work.

Subject: Were you expecting it to be in some shady bar on the far side of town that holds all the ne’er-do-wells and vagabonds meet and scheme?

Interview: *sounds made of sentence starting and stopping*

Subject: Bars get boring after a while and I wanted some fresh air.

Subject: And what do you mean by “my line of work”?

Interviewer: Well, you know….being a hitman.

Subject: Been a while since I’ve been called that.

Subject: Personally I prefer mercenary.

Interviewer: Is there a difference?

Subject: I’m sure you’d be able to find any poor sod that’d give off a list of reasons and nuances, but at the end of the day we all just kill people for money.

Interview: I’ve heard that you have a preference for being called “The Devil’s Right Hand”.

Subject: I don’t actually.

Subject: But you do one job for a galactic dictator with a tad of genocide and the next thing you know you got a nickname.

Subject: You know how hard it is for people to just use my real name and not that cheesy nickname?

Interviewer: What is your real name anyway?

Subject: Francis O’Connell.

Francis: Never got your name by the way.

Interviewer: Mortica Preces.

Francis: Haven’t met a Peline since the resource wars on Nifelen II.

Mortica: You fought in the resource wars?

Francis: I did. I made myself a scarf from the all the sacred braids your people wore from the dead I left on the battlefield.

Francis: Was the only thing that kept me warm during those freezing nights.

Mortica: You scalped my people?

Francis: Only from the dead ones; I’m not entirely a monster.

Mortica: …..

Mortica: Do you realize the religious significance of our braids, and what it means to take them?

Francis: I did and I didn’t care.

Francis: You were my enemy and I was damn upset at your people’s attempts to end my life.

Francis: Thankfully the war ended and we can now meet here as friends.

Mortica: …….

Mortica: When you agreed to do this interview I had pictured this much differently.

Francis: I told you that I would give you my side of the story.

Mortica: You did.

Francis: Did you expect me to sugar coat it?

Francis: Make it like I was fighting for some noble cause and lost myself in the throngs of war to become the monster the universe now sees me as?

Francis: Well that’s just horseshit people tell others to make themselves out to be more sympathetic.

Mortica: So you don’t want sympathy?

Francis: What the fuck am I going to do with that?

Mortica: Then why did you fight in the resource wars?

Mortica: Why did you commit such acts of malice and cruelty upon my people?

Francis: Simple really.

Francis: Because I was paid to.

Mortica: That’s it?

Mortica: Because you were paid to?!

Mortica: You butchered thousands and helped rip a peaceful star system asunder because you WERE PAID TO?!?!

Francis: I was paid very well if that makes the difference for you.

Mortica: How can you sleep with yourself at night???

Francis: *pauses*

Francis: When I go to sleep at night I am greeted in my dreams by the faces of everyone I have ever killed in my line of work.

Francis: Not just from the resource wars, but from every conflict, murder, and killing I have ever committed.

Mortica: So that rumor is true for humans then?

Francis: Oh yeah; that bit is very much true.

Francis: Each dream is the same. I’m walking down a long hallway that stretches on far beyond the horizon, and lining each side like a decorative mask collection is the face of a person I’ve killed.

Francis: Some of them are screaming at me; shouting out their last words or begging for their lives as they weep.

Francis: Some have the bullet or knife wounds from their death fresh on their skin as the blood drips from them like a fountain.

Francis: Then there are the ones that don’t say anything and just stare at you as you walk by; their silence piercing me like a blade through butter.

Francis: It’s a bit impressive how no matter how far I keep walking I never see the same face twice. I would be walking for what seems like hours or days and yet each face is different.

Mortica: A fitting nightmare for one such as you.

Francis: Oh but I haven’t told you the best part yet.

Francis: Attached to each face is a tag, like the ones you see for clothing sold at department stores, and written on each tag is how much I was paid to kill them

Mortica: By the gods….

Francis: I’m not even sure how I remember that but I think it’s my subconscious trying to punish me for the life I’ve lived.

Francis: While I’m walking down the hallway I will stop every now and then and look at the tags and smile to myself at a job well done.

Mortica: I don’t think I can continue this interview?

Francis: Why?

Francis: Because you are just realizing why someone would be called “The Devil’s right hand”?

Francis: You need to grow up.

Mortica: Excuse me?!

Francis: I said you need to grow the fuck up.

Francis: I’ve read your puff pieces promoting military life and the benefits it brings to the enlisted.

Francis: I couldn’t help but notice you left out all the PTSD, the horrific injuries experienced on the battlefields, the emotional trauma of losing your comrades day after day and realize the only way to survive is to cut off any emotional attachment to your squad mates just to ensure that you have some sanity left by the end of the war.

Francis: Only to find out that even if you do somehow survive you find society no longer has a use for you so you are left to rot on some run down street corner begging for scraps.

Mortica: That may be what your people do with your soldiers, but we Peline’s know how to treat our returning veterans.

Francis: Oh do you?

Francis: Then please explain why one of them paid me to do this interview with you?

Mortica: Wh-what?

Francis: I doubt you ever spoke to one of your returning soldiers in your entire career, have you?

Francis: Too afraid to get the real details of military life in favor of keeping the status quo.

Francis: Much less than first grade Ensign Tublek Frent.

Mortica: Who?

Francis: Oh you know who he is.

Francis: He came to you after the resource wars, after losing an arm and a leg, and offered to give you the scoop of the century.

Francis: An in-depth look of how your military bungled the entire war and then cast aside returning soldiers.

Francis: But you didn’t meet him; oh no.

Francis: You reported him to military command, who then had him declared mentally insane and locked him away in some dark corner of your medical facilities.

Mortica: How do you know any of this?

Francis: See my government found out about Tublek and were very much interested in giving your government another black eye.

Francis: So they paid me to break him out of the medical facility and transported back to Terra for a live broadcast.

Francis: Job went easy enough and I was just about to hand him over when the old sod learned who I really was and slipped me a coin.

Francis: Can you guess what that coin was for?

Mortica: You would kill me for a single coin?

Francis: Having read your articles I would have killed you for the sheer pleasure of it, but a man such as myself needs to keep up appearances and the devil’s right hand doesn’t do jobs for free.

Mortica: We’re in a public place; not even you are so foolish to try killing me here.

Francis: On the contrary, it was the only way to make you feel safe and draw you out.

*Rustling sound and the click of a weapon being pulled out*

Mortica: This recording has been going live to my office. If you kill me everyone will know.

Francis: Eh, publicity is publicity these days.

*Cocks gun*

Francis: I wonder where your place on the wall will be?

Mortica: Wa-

*GUNSHOT*

*Screams of children in background and footsteps slowly walking away.*

[polarisbibliotheque]

Are you into MBTI? If yes, may I ask for your idea on DMC characters types? If no then feel free to skip this ask, sorry for bothering you.

First things first, my beloved: DON’T APOLOGIZE. None of you are EVER bothering me by sending an ask – unless, of course, you’re completely crass, deranged, borderline criminal (or full criminal) with your words or just gratuitously rude. Those types are bothersome and will get blocked and ignored.

Unless I’m on an Axl Rose like rampage and want to burn and fistfight people along my way, then I’ll use the stupid being in question to pour all my anger and have a good reason to spend hours in therapy :)

But you are NOT one of those, my dear. That’s a very fun question and do feel free to ask me random things like that, I enjoy answering!

Now, I’m not really big on MBTI – I know enough about mine and my family’s so I can make things work between me and them. I also like to know my friends MBTI’s because the memes are usually freakishly accurate with all our personalities xD

I am an INTP! Quite proud, if I might say so hahahaha I like the weird vibes and I have adopted in my heart Sherlock Holmes as an INTP ‘cause he was my role model when I was a teen (I know, HORRIBLE role model, but it is what it is) – and that’s how I got into MBTI.

(more under the cut, this answer is LONG)

Big introduction for me to say: VERGIL, THIS LITTLE SHIT. INTJ. I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.

I’ll start with him and then Dante. I won’t share my 2 cents on the rest of the crew because either they aren’t that much developed as the twins or I’m not really trusting my MBTI judging abilities here.

Without further ado…

Vergil

I debated quite a WHILE on Vergil, to be honest, because we all know INTJ is the typical villain archetype used everywhere on media because heaven forbid a villain is not calculating and devoided of emotions.

And there’s where I got a little stuck: emotions.

Vergil does have emotions, and I dare to say his run even deeper than Dante’s, so I got a little sidetracked. But then I took my own personality, INTP, and thought about it for a while. I have the same problem as Vergil: my emotions do run deep and I’m always guarding them in a dark, secret place inside of me so I won’t get hurt, opting for a more thinking, analytical and practical approach rather than the feeling approach. And oh boy does my life get difficult with feeling types like my aunt, my mom and even my sister.

I got to the conclusion, then, it’s not how you feel, but rather how you present yourself. I took the test as if I was Dante (I needed that to figure him out, not sorry) and a lot of questions are more leaning on that. It’s not that you don’t feel or don’t understand feelings, it’s more like you have a different approach when doing things and processing all of that – because it can be quite overwhelming.

So, there we go, Vergil is BLATANTLY Introverted and Thinking. The Introverted I got from what I heard some people saying that it’s not that “oh I like talking to people/I don’t like talking to people”, it’s energy: at the end of the day, do you prefer being alone to recharge or around people to recharge?

Me and my sister are opposites on that. My sister was always quieter and shy when she was a kid, and I was expansive and always came back with a new friend. Lo and behold, I’m an Introvert and she is an Extrovert. How? I HAVE and I NEED time alone, completely for myself, with NO ONE around at certain times of the day and I do get AWFULLY tired when I’m being social for too long, needing some me time with tea and a good book. My sister NEEDS to be around her friends after a long, tiring week at work, famously going to 3 parties in a row, in 3 different days, different groups, outfits and all, exiting one party to go to the other, and then BAM going to work on a Monday completely replenished. I’m an Introvert. She is an Extrovert.

Dante and Vergil seal of approval here hahahahaha

His Intuitive part, though, comes from the art – poetry, philosophy, reading, education. Vergil is obviously BIG on that, loving poetry since he was a child and always being found in libraries, we can all picture him going to art galleries, concerts, operas and such. But, particularly, I extend that to his thirst for knowledge: everyone who enjoys reading the dense stuff he does, tends to fall for philosophy, sociology, the metaphysical part of physics, mathematics, all that. There was a reason why great mathematicians of the past were also philosophers: knowledge walks together.

Loving that deeply, Vergil has to be quite Intuitive. Yes, he will do things with discipline and how they should be done to achieve the result – but he will rebel and do things his own way if the knowledge he acquired so far points him to another direction; he will follow his intuition. He’s not one to dismiss the big questions in life: quite the contrary, I think one of his favorite past-times would be drinking wine along his s/o while talking about philosophy into the wee hours of the night as if they are the only people in the world.

Vergil is an open minded, curious and always searching for the meaning of things kind of person, and I will die on this hill. There is no way a guy who likes learning so much would be against challenging his own point of views: to learn, you have to first be a novice; and to improve, you have to admit there’s much you still don’t know and keep an open mind to fail and do it again, and again, and again, until you master what you are learning. Just the way he fights tells me he is very much like that and I’m still dying on this hill.

And lastly, Judging. No, not because he’s the judgy bitch of the series who’s always side-eying someone and sighing while saying “pathetic” just because they got scared by their own shadow. I have to say I wasn’t too sure on this one when I realized Vergil could end up as an INTP and that bitch can’t be an INTP like me, I claimed it.

Jokes aside, Vergil can be quite Perceiving at times, because, wanting or not, he has had his moments of needing to improvise and spot opportunities that weren’t quite on his schedule… But, I do have to admit, INTPs are a mess and Vergil is FAR from being a mess – and when I say a mess, we are everywhere: reading 5 books at the same time, leaving them scattered all around the house, laying upside down in bed to think and come up with a great idea for something… INTPs aren’t pragmatic or schedule oriented. And Vergil would DIE in an environment like this, I think.

So, my conclusion was: his ability to survive does come from his Perceiving characteristics, but his pragmaticism comes from his Judging – and the second is a lot stronger in him. He would like the schedule, he would do things as he has programmed and, if you interrupt him, he’s counting the minutes to go back to his schedule or else everything he has carefully programmed for the week will be delayed and his plans are all but GONE (read: Verge at the Temen-ni-gru screaming “WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING?!” when ALL the plans he carefully executed for WEEKS so he could get to THAT moment and open the gates of Hell just went down the drain ‘cause he missed something in his calculations. Man is in excruciating pain he missed something and ALL was for NOTHING and he’d have to TRY again).

Verdict: Vergil is an INTJ. Expected, annoyingly villainous personality, but it does fit him wonderfully.

Plus, we are the 'we don't have feelings' types :D

Dante

Oh, Dante. My beloved. My red devil. The man who haunts my dreams.

Seriously, I had a REALLY hard time pinpointing his MBTI.

Remember I said I took the test as him? Yes. I did. To check some things and argue against others hahahahaa

I don’t think Dante is as black and white as Vergil. The blue devil is almost textbook INTJ, but Dante…? I have my doubts on SO many parts of his personality, because, unlike Vergil, Dante does a LOT just for show.

Starting with the Extroverted/Introverted. Most people won’t even think before saying Dante is an Extrovert, but I had my doubts when taking things in consideration. What we usually see is that, yes, he does love being around people – but Dante spends most of his time alone, without electricity, reading his old magazines at his shop, sleeping or eating pizza by himself.

Depression? Yes. YES. This man is more depressed than the San Andreas Fault. This can make people behave differently from their personalities, so I had to think a little more about it. Dante doesn’t really go out of his way to be around people, to party with his friends or just have a nice time with them around. Dante wants to be alone, because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be with people – and that they are better off without him, safer. He puts them in danger, at least that’s what’s on his mind. So, he isolates himself and prefers to spend time on his own, away from everything and everyone.

That’s where the energy thing comes into play! What gives Dante energy? Honestly, my man looks drained and just the dust of his being whenever they get to his shop and he’s been living in that condition for months. During the games AND after the games, though? He looks a lot better – even if he has been beaten up by a bunch of demons. And that’s because, I think, Dante gets energized by being around people – friends, family, loved ones. Just like my sister, he can conquer the world after going to 5 parties in a row. Vergil, in the other hand, would be drained and dying by the second one, just like Dante is when he hasn’t been around people too much, always isolating himself.

So, despite his depression that makes him behave differently, Dante is an Extrovert in my book.

One that I don’t even think too much about him is the Perceiving trait. Dante is like that, 10/10. He can’t thrive on a schedule, things in his life are Everything Everywhere All At Once, and my man is in his lane with that. Try to fit Dante in a box with a set routine and too many rules, he’s dying. Aside from that, he has a knack for improvising and finding the best opportunities in unexpected situations.

Hence why he has so many freaking weapons and is just using all of them and all of his fighting styles at the same time, taunting demons and dancing Macarena right after – and making it all look like it makes the most absolute fucking sense. No one can pull that off like Dante, king of winging it.

Now, I do believe he is Intuitive. Dante might not be the art and poetry type like Vergil, but he is well educated. He has to be, to do what he does. And I do believe his thing for philosophy shows when Dante is lecturing demons: that WHOLE answer he gives Agnus about what demons lack compared to humans, that is VERY much philosophy. Dante doesn’t just go and takes everything at face value, because, if he did, he would very much say the obvious: demons are, objectively, stronger than humans. But all the heart, all the internal things that make humans stronger than demons… That’s philosophy.

I can see Dante enjoying movies – blockbusters, yes, packed with action and special effects, but let’s remember… Titanic is a blockbuster. And there’s so much heart in that movie, so much philosophy, so much about choosing your own fate and not being tied to the one that was handed to you… Titanic can pack one hell of an existential punch and make you think about so much in your life – you just have to be open to it.

Differently from Vergil, Dante wasn’t the library and heavy books sort of guy. But he was the guy to go to the movies, to watch all of that. To go back home (wherever his home was at the moment, even if just a place for him to crash for a while) and think about everything he watched in the silent darkness of his room. To think about the things Eva taught him – and see the value of all that.

He’s not the type to go to an art gallery, or read philosophy, or go to the opera. But he will go if he is invited, he will discuss things the way he learned them, and he will enjoy it. He’d be more than willing to talk about what makes humans so precious and spend hours doing so, as he would be open to listen to his s/o explaining what makes him so human despite his demonic heritage. And he would spend days thinking about it, always willing to discuss those topics if his s/o wanted to.

He's not textbook Intuitive like Vergil, I think, but he still is, in his very own way. I’d say Vergil is academically Intuitive, while Dante learned his Intuitive trait on the streets – we all say Dante is a safespace for everything, and a man like has to be open minded and curious. If he wasn’t, he would have never welcomed Trish and given her a chance to be human: he would’ve killed her right away for being a demon. And that isn’t our red devil.

Last but not least, Dante is a Feeling. I’m always dying on this hill, even if that one ALSO made me have some doubts.

Because you see, Dante just pretends to be a goof, but he isn’t. He is very intelligent and cunning, very perceiving and observing, but wrapped in a reckless rockstar package. It’s his own way of coping, but that is what makes him SUCH a great devil hunter (sorry, Nero). Even if we might disagree on this, I do believe Dante has his emotions very much controlled.

Which is a little evidenced by the lyrics on his theme song in DMC V, Subhuman (I know we ALL love Bury The Light and Devil Trigger but OH MY GOD, I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT HOW SUBHUMAN IS AWESOME AND FITTING FOR DANTE). The song is VERY explicit how Dante is always controlling his rage and keeping his demon on a very tight leash so he has control over it all the fucking time. That isn’t very Feeling in my book – it’s quite Thinking, like Vergil.

That’s what made me think a little about Vergil’s as well. I have what might be an unpopular opinion about the twins after thinking so much about them and seeing how they react and act in all of the games: Vergil has a tendency to loose control and overkill, while Dante has a tendency to let his rage burn at the exact moment he needs it and use his power just as much as he needs to get the job done. Dante is more controlled with his emotions than Vergil – and in my opinion, it’s because Vergil bottles up and ignores his emotions until they become a storm that can’t be stopped (cough cough personal experience cough cough) while Dante controls things so he can use his emotions and let them be expressed/gets them off his system in “safe” environments for him, which would be killing demons.

So, why the heck is Dante a Feeling in my book? Precisely why Vergil is a Thinking. It has to do with how they present themselves – and that is the point that makes them so different and butt heads almost every game.

The devil on Dante’s leash is his rage, the feeling he allows and wants to run amok and uncontrolled is his love. Dante controls his bursts of anger and the demonic blood who craves for mayhem – but he doesn’t control his human heart that does everything out of empathy and love. He will run to the rescue when his loved ones are in danger, he will protect weak people against the powerful ones, he will lecture corrupted humans who see nothing but power in front of them, he will cry and he will do everything in his power to keep love alive and thriving. He will react immediately, he will understand, he will feel the pain of those who are injured and begging for help – he will let his heart melt and do everything for them.

Therefore, Dante is a Feeling. And I think that’s what makes him and Vergil opposites and always fighting: Vergil wants power and puts logic over feelings, avoiding them like the plague, while Dante wants love and puts feelings over logic, embracing them and acting out of what his human heart tells him is the right thing to do. The whole series is based on this – at least in my opinion.

Verdict: Dante is an ENFP. Didn’t really expect it, but after analyzing with care, it makes a lot of sense to me.

Also, all the memes with ENFP x INTJ relationship dynamics I just checked are basically Dante and Vergil in a nutshell - I’ll leave some of them below and you guys will HAVE to forgive me not really crediting the people who created these memes, I honestly just found on google and wanted to share so you can have an idea of what I’m talking about.

But I honestly have been wheezing for the past hour and I thank you SO MUCH anon for this ask – I hope you enjoyed this little TED Talk about the Sparda Twins’ personalities please Capcom hire me to write official canon about them

If this isn't Dante and Vergil, I dunno what is

And last but not least:

That's all the games in a nutshell, really.

[rookiesbookies]

COD Shit (P1?)

New intelligence joining the team.

Use of She/Her pronouns, no anatomy mentioned, no use of Y/N, might turn this into a series where there’s an X Reader for all my boys after this. I dunno this is my first COD Fic and first Fic in months, give me feedback. Im going to make hc for a bunch of the people next so give me your thoughts on who.

She thought back to the day she ended up at the coffee shop, the interview for a side job. She hadn't realized it was a government job. All she looked at was the good pay, need for a mild temperament, and someone good with communication and words.

After passing multiple psych evals and background checks, she was loaded into a plane like cargo. Her destination was some little island off the UK. She was greeted quickly by the ever charming Captain Price.

“Allow me to help you with your bags,” he said after pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, making her face flush warm. He had quickly introduced himself, his facial hair tickled her soft hand.

“Captain, I don’t have much, it's nothing I can’t get myself -” she began to ramble. She was cut off quickly.

“It’s not a bother,” he said and began walking towards the dull green building. “And call me John.”

The meetings wouldn’t start for the next bit. She got acquainted in her new room before she began slowly exploring the building and the base itself. She had restricted access so more than most areas were off limits but she was told to make her way to the recreation center before dark.

The center wasn’t anything amazing. There was an old pool table that needed to be re-felted, a broken pool stick in the wall, and two men playing pool whilst another watched. The walls were a boring gray and there was a kitchenette in the corner next to a large fridge. There was a high top table with 10 seats in the kitchen area where a half eaten sandwich sat. A couch sat in front of a reasonably sized tv and there was an old leather chair with a sign on it.

PRICE’S CHAIR. DO. NOT. SIT.

“Message received,” she mumbled to herself. Her eyes fell back on the men at the pool table.

“Johnny, I swear to God if you shake the table when I try to shoot one more time -”

“What will ya do? Huh?”

“Guys, its pool. Does it really need to get this aggressive?”

She had been shown their files before coming, Price wanted his new intelligence officer to understand what she was walking into. She shifted her weight, causing one of the floorboards to creak. The three men looked over at her.

“Oi, who are you?” Soap asked, earning a playful smack in the chest from Gaz.

“She’s the new intelligence officer. The one Laswell picked.” The man mumbled. “Price told us she was coming, how do you not remember?”

Ghost cleared his throat and the woman awkwardly waved.

“I just wanted to say hi and introduce myself… also someone should really finish that sandwich before it goes stale.”

“MY SANDWICH!” Soap quickly rushed back to grab his half-eaten lunch, taking a bite, “see this is why she’s in intelligence.”

“Don’t chew with ya mouth open, Johnny.” Ghost said sharply, smacking him in the gut with a swift back hand. This made Soap choke a little on his bite of food.

She made an awkward goodbye before skittering out.

Let me know in the tags, comments, or asks what you want to see next or who I should continue the start for as an x reader fic