#I had to stop proofing this because then I would just keep re-writing it and never post it

[wowbright]

Fic: Ancient Scrolls Don’t Lie

Klaine Advent 2022 #14: dispose

Words: ~1850 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Kurt finds out what happened to Elder Thompson. (Sort of.)

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2022! This vignette takes after Convergence (they’re still at the mission conference).

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes/warnings: Anti-Catholic sentiment (very). Well-intentioned but ignorant discussion of Judaism. White boys both grappling with and ignoring racism at the same time.

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The one good thing about being assigned the family bathroom for afternoon cleanup was that Kurt finally had a few minutes alone with Elder St. James. The news that had been nagging at him on and off throughout the day could now be spoken.

“I can't believe you didn't tell me about Elder Thompson,” Kurt scolded the back of Elder St. James’s head.

The latter missionary was stooped over the toilet of the family washroom, scrubbing it with a bristled brush. “Look.” Elder St. James flung the toilet brush into the bowl and scowled at Kurt. “I didn't really even know what was going on most of the conference. First a text message that he and Elder Flanagan were going to be late, then that he was missing, then that they had found him. And President Steele kept telling me not to worry about it, that it was for him and area leaders to take care of. I should focus on this conference.”

“Apparently I need to keep a better eye on my companions. I didn't notice you talking to President Steele constantly. Just your interview with him today in his office, and that didn't last more than five minutes.”

“I wasn't. It was mostly text messages. He wouldn’t tell me exactly what was going on, and Elder Thompson is probably the most stable missionary I've ever met, and Elder Flanagan—well, you've worked with Elder Flanagan. He's nice, but he's a little … let's just say I wouldn’t be that surprised if he wandered off with a girl. So I thought maybe he was really the problem, and Elder Thompson had gone looking for him and gotten into an accident or something and that’s why he was missing. But I didn't want to start gossip.”

“You? Not wanting to start gossip? That's rich. And what if he had been in an accident? We should have all been praying for him then.” Kurt scrubbed the final corner of the diaper changing station furiously.

Elder St. James looked like he was about to set his hands on his hips, then seemed to realize that he was wearing gloves besmirched with toilet cleaner and folded them together, instead. “Yes, I like gossip. But passing on existing gossip is different than starting it.”

“Fine. Glad to see you’ve grown in the gospel so much more than I have over the course of your mission.” Kurt slammed the changing table shut and latched it to the wall.

“That's not what I'm saying. Besides, President Steele was very firm about me keeping it on the downlow.”

“Apparently he didn’t tell that to Elder Flanagan!”

“You think Elder Flanagan is capable of following directions from anybody? Besides, everything he said this morning was wrong.”

“What do you mean? Elder Thompson didn't run off?” Kurt grabbed a bottle of glass cleaner and turned toward the mirror.

“No. That part is right. And he is being removed from proselytizing. But he's not being sent home when he only has one week left in his mission. He's going to spend the rest of it working at the genealogy center in Freiberg.” Elder St. James looked at the toilet, gave it one final scrub with the brush, and flushed it.

“I thought you said you didn't know anything,” Kurt said through gritted teeth.

“I didn't. But President Steele gave me a little update in my interview with him this afternoon. And I'm really not supposed to be talking about it with anybody, but …” Elder St. James lower his voice. “Elder Flanagan was also wrong about it being a girl.”

Kurt froze. He couldn't look at his own reflection in the mirror. He concentrated on a white soap stain in the lower corner and rubbed at it steadily. If it wasn't a girl, did that mean it was a— But no. Kurt had never clocked Elder Thompson as gay. But he’d never clocked him as a criminal or an apostate, either, and those were the only other two choices.

“Elder Hummel, you look as white as the sink. What do you think I'm gonna say?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, stop worrying. It’s not that bad.” Elder St. James pulled off his gloves and disposed of them in the trash. “At least, I don't think so. But … I guess there have been incidents. You’ve worked with him a bit, right? You know how he's sympathetic to other religious views almost to a fault?”

When Kurt had served in the same district as Elder Thompson, it had been Elder Thompson's idea for them to visit the local mosque on P-day. But they hadn't done anything there. They’d just stood in the back, listening to the prayers, and then they’d talked to the imam about the similarities in their religions. No one made a declaration of fealty to Muhammad. It wasn't much different from visiting a cathedral, which Kurt had done on many P-days. “I wouldn’t say that. He was open in a way that all missionaries should be.”

Elder St. James made a contradictory click with his tongue and grabbed the broom. “Are missionaries supposed to go to a Catholic church and take the Eucharist?”

Kurt almost dropped his paper towel. “He what now?”

“Yeah. Which I shouldn't have even known about, it was like three transfers ago apparently. But he told me … maybe a month ago? I told him to tell President Steele, but he said why should he, he used to do it whenever he was visiting with his grandparents and he was just feeling a little homesick—you know his grandfather died last year while Elder Thomas was out here, right? And yeah, it sucks not to be able to go home for funerals, but that's no excuse for cannibalism with the Catholics. I mean, seriously, who knows what's in that wafer? Catholics think that it's the actual body of Christ but it can't be, so whose body it it?”

“It’s bread, Elder St. James. Made out of flour. And wine. Made out of grapes.”

"I know it looks that way. But they do all those incantations and there's that incense and … I don’t know. It's like a Satanic mass or something. There's something creepy going on with those wafers.”

“Exactly how many Satanic masses have you been to, Elder St. James?”

“None, but I was an extra in a horror movie called—”

Kurt held up his hand to stop the onslaught of stupidity. “That's fiction.”

“Yeah, but … fiction can have a kernel of truth in it, can't it? And Catholic churches make me so uncomfortable. All those statues and candles and stuff. I don't feel the presence of the Holy Ghost there. Which is exactly what I told Elder Thompson.”

“OK. So he's in trouble for taking the sacrament at a Catholic Church?”

Elder St. James shook his head as if to clear it. “No. I don't think he ever told President Steele about that. Now it has something to do with Judaism. He’s been teaching a Jewish family for a while and I guess … they did a better job of converting him than vice versa?”

This conversation was a rollercoaster of the unexpected. “But Jews don't convert people.”

“Everyone converts people. That's what religion is for.”

“No. They don't. I mean, I'm not an expert, but I had Jewish friends in high school and I visited a synagogue, and no one tried to convert me. My friend Rachel told me that if I wanted to convert, I’d be turned away at least three times before they'd finally agree to consider it, and that would just be the beginning because the actual preparation for baptism or whatever they call it would take years. She thought that's how Mormons should do things, too. Said it would make us a lot less annoying.”

Elder St. James stopped sweeping. He rested his hands on top of the broomstick and tilted his head to the side, like a robin listening for worms in the ground. “She might be right. I mean, about the less annoying thing.” He smiled as if he had come upon a perfectly cut gem in a pile of rough stones, and shook his head again. “OK, so I don’t know his official status as far as conversion. But ever since they had this sort of pre-Easter celebration dinner over at the house of this Jewish family—”

“You mean Passover? Jews don't celebrate Easter.”

“Yes! Passover!” Elder Saint James snapped his fingers. “Like Jesus and the disciples did, except … different, I guess? Anyway, ever since he went to this dinner, he's been asking a lot of questions about the temple and the Book of Abraham and the Book of Moses. Which confused me, because if Judaism is so hot, why is he complaining about their scriptures? And he was like, ‘No, dummy, they’re in the Pearl of Great Price, not the Old Testament; Joseph Smith wrote them.’ He actually said that. ‘Joseph Smith wrote them.’ Not ‘translated them.’”

“Joseph Smith didn't write that stuff. He translated it from ancient scrolls.” Kurt tossed the paper towel into the garbage. He was no expert in the books of the Pearl of Great Price. It was probably his most neglected set of scriptures. But he remembered that much from seminary. The Book of Abraham was proof of Joseph Smith being a prophet and translator, because the church and the actual ancient Egyptian scrolls that he had translated it from.

“Right. I know. But Elder Thompson has gone off the deep end. He’s saying none of it is real, and if we really want to follow in Moses and Abraham’s footsteps, we should talk to the people who've been following them for millennia, instead of blindly swallowing what some racist white guy from America wrote about them in the 1800s.”

“But Joseph Smith was an abolitionist!”

“I know. But Elder Thompson keeps making me question it. He made me super uncomfortable the other day. He's been trying to prove to me that he's right, and he read out loud the part about ‘for the seed of Cain were black’—and I know it isn’t racist just like ‘the Lord God did cause a skin of blackness to come upon’ the Lamanites isn’t racist, because it really means that they were without the light of Christ and not that they were, like, African-American, but— Well. It sure sounded racist, when he read it to me.”

Kurt’s stomach churned the way it did every time he encountered those passages. He knew what Elder St. James said was true. He had heard it in Sunday School and seminary and from his bishop and from his father. God wasn't a racist, and the Book of Mormon and the Pearl of Great Price were the word of God, so what they said couldn't be racist either. If the words sounded racist to us, that was human fallibility. If too many of the Mormons he'd met on his mission took these passages at face value, that was a lack of spiritual discernment on their part, not a problem with the text itself.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

*

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

*

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

[ackerifle]

I personally see yan!Levi being like he is in the show, keeping his emotions in control, being focused and having the whole no-nonsense attitude. While being just a tad bit too overprotective. I doubt he'd ever harm reader if he's caught feelings for them or force himself on them. (just my opinion and personal preference!) But it makes me curious to see how he would genuinely struggle with his feelings, being self-aware of how too much he feels for reader while also being quite dense in a way. Seeing him deteriorate as he's trying to keep up with how he usually is with everyone else. While you see things from his POV, his psychology. And how the absence of any form of intimacy and probably not thinking he needs it affects him. I've read all that you've written and really like your writing and wondered what your take on this would be? a scenario or headcanons, Can be sfw and/or nsfw!

dramatis personae!

yan. levi ackerman x fem. reader

+ CW. — headcanon’s: internal morality conflict, stalking, possessive and manipulative behavior, slight intimidation, implied: forced relationship & eventual mind break; i fear the structure worsens as it continues; not proof-read.

first and foremost, you flatter me, i am delighted to hear that you’ve taken a liking to my writing, and your patience in waiting is well appreciated. this particular ask near reminds me that it is long overdue for me to create a work that is written exclusively in levi’s perspective, or rather, one that happens to centre around his general frame of mind as a yandere.

levi is no fool, love comes easy to the forlorn who have never had a taste of it. and when it comes to you? he knows it’s love, he knows it right away. but these feelings are so… intense, so peculiar, so persistent, so passionate, and so not normal. levi’s struggle with morality is a burden that rivals the responsibility of being humanity’s strongest soldier, truly. and although levi does his utmost to justify his unusual behaviors and progressively concerning actions, he simply can’t. you’re quite unfortunate yourself, to have a man such as levi absolutely and utterly enamored with you, and he wholly acknowledges it. but who is to pay the price, if not you? initially, levi’s solution to suppressing the severity of his feelings, if not the feelings altogether, is distance. but this proves only temporary as absence makes the heart grow fonder, and it isn’t long before he gives up because why would he deprive himself of happiness after just finally attaining it?

it’s almost too much, really. levi feels quite a lot, but most of all, he feels guilty— just not guilty enough to stop. and as time passes, his resolve inevitably weakens, and it becomes easier to rationalize what he does, even if levi is astutely aware deep down that acting upon his own selfish desires will always be wrong, at least with the way he’s going about it. it isn’t entirely justice, per se, but levi does happen to have a strong sense of righteousness, of rectitude, of common decency. human life holds great significance to him, but so does the quality of said life; he wants you to feel everything and anything but suffering by being with him. but there will come a point where i believe that he stops caring altogether. that levi’s erstwhile efforts of concealing his sincere intentions and ardent sentiments would waver in due time, but this would be late into his life, likely after the battle of heaven and earth when you’re even more emotionally eroded than he is.

it starts off small, considering that he is fairly unsuspecting as a yandere, and quite little would change about his mannerisms, at least until you’ve noticed too little too late. levi wants your relationship, romantic or not, to develop as organically as possible so he can get over the fact that it is quite literally anything but. not when he already knows everything he needs to know about you. levi is observant and watchful as is, but he also happens to have a plethora of resources at his fingertips; such as your legal documents, military papers, and medical records. furthermore, it would only take one little harmless white lie to attain more… personal information: family history, biographies, or even reports written by none other than yourself, ones that had been published decades ago, that is.

and while i don’t particularly envision levi as the obsessive, nor delusional, type (as much as i find him to be the possessive type), it may simply pass his mind that this isn’t insanely weird. only until levi finally reels himself in — with rare restraint that levi is usually well renowned for having, even in comparison to his most reticent peers — and he realizes that he’s violated your entire right to privacy, unbeknownst to you. it eventually registers in that lucid state of consciousness of his that he’s going out of his way to do this on his own personal accord, that it is taking time out of his work schedule, and that he cannot accredit this to assisting the survey corps in literally any way. when it settles, he’s honestly mortified. and the worst of it all? you’ve probably only interacted a grand total of two times, three if we’re being generous.

the feeling of levi’s presence is hard to miss, let it be from across the dining hall, or in close quarters, both of which levi will ensure that you become mindlessly accustomed to overtime. as aforementioned, levi is adamant about this bond forming naturally so as to prevent himself from digging a deeper hole than he already has, so the introduction of his company in day to day life will be the first steps in making himself known to you. of course, you already know him, all of the soldiers do, but you’ll find that he is just everywhere, and in particular, everywhere that you are. there is no shortage of his lingering presence; you see him often, more often than someone of your rank should. and it gets to be awfully concerning when your recurrent rendezvous with the man take a gradual turn from fortuitous close-shoulder proximity in the mandatory meetings, to levi cornering you in the furthest and deserted hallways of the headquarters to ask the most obscure and obscene questions that only someone maintaining close relations to you would know.

this is levi’s (not-so) subtle way of letting you know that he has taken an interest in you, even if you are likely to perceive it as him being a hardass that has spontaneously discovered that he fancies finding fault with and denigrating your performance in the corps. levi is a busy man, but never too busy to miss visiting you in one way or another; and although he prefers to demonstrate acts of service to indicate his affections for you, you two aren’t exactly close enough for that, yet. ironically, levi may find that doing anything for you is a little too forward, it is blatant favoritism at worst, and a telltale sign of his relentless loyalty at best; but his definition of forward is very different considering it wasn’t all that forward when he decided to hold you hostage in his office to do menial tasks simply because he wanted you there. and it isn’t that levi is intentionally acting with such amateur impromptu (although granted, not like he has had much experience to begin with), it’s rather him just being careful. levi has no issue when it comes to being straightforward, but this… this is surely quite different.

you may come to the conclusion that his sudden, awkwardly formal yet somehow equally as intimate interactions with you — given no prior history with one another, not even as fellow soldiers — is because he is too embarrassed to outright admit what he wants; which is you. that he is above pursuing whatever this is with another, let alone someone of (presumably) lower status. but levi isn’t necessarily shy as much as he is hesitant, and ideally, it would be you who initiates. for the same reason he feels beside himself and ashamed, it would ease the guilt if you had wanted him back in the first place, with levi believing that you may need a push in the right direction to do so. but that push is more like a shove… off a cliff, because it doesn’t even so much as cross your mind that these are levi’s questionable ways of romantic advancement, and not him attempting to intimidate you into woefully resigning from the military.

and when levi ascertains that he has to be the one to do something, he will. it wasn’t that levi was apprehensive out of fear, nor daunted by the notion itself (… like have you seen this man’s initiative statistics), it is just that it would have been for the best had you played along in the first place. to placate levi’s longing for something, anything, from you in return to give the illusion that his valiant efforts weren’t all for naught, he may have even been pleased, regardless of the fact he can see right through you. but you don’t, because you aren’t stupid enough to give yourself to him, and now that he’s been so kind as to give you a chance, you won’t be getting it again. he’ll be curt as all hell, terse with his wants, and unabashed about his desires; but it isn’t quite what you’re used to.

if i were to describe the connection you hold with yandere levi, it would actually be intimate. perhaps not in the traditional sense: physical, emotional, or other, but in the way that levi feels safe, something he hopes you feel with him as well. that he is free to express the innermost dark and delicate thoughts of his subconscious and as himself as humanity's strongest and levi ackerman— to you, as his confidant, as his comrade, and as his lover. real, genuine and authentic intimacy is something that levi has never had the fortune of experiencing. but once he has, he can’t get enough. let it be known that i feel that levi wouldn’t refer to you with typical terms of endearment, as they still remain rather foreign and ambiguous to him, but also because words alone don’t even come close to expressing the extremity of his feelings. he can just show you, if you let him.

levi may be a man who sustains exceptional self-awareness, however, he is a bit thick-headed when it comes to why he loves this way. it is… depraved to say the least, and while he fully understands that the process of falling and being in love is only natural, which he has reluctantly come to terms with now given his current situation, he just can’t place a finger as to why it has to be this way. his behaviors are susceptible to going unnoticed for an alarming amount of time by those around him, even the veteran soldiers who have come to know him for years; save for erwin who is far too sharp and perceptively nosy for his own good, and hange who is pertinaciously attentive as ever. it matters not in the end, as levi won’t be taking advice from them anyway. as exhausting as it may be to varnish over and conceal his deranged approach to love in the eyes of the public, there are only a handful of people that he owes such pleasantries to; and should a cadet have the gall to address him, levi will see to it that there will be no repetition of such daft inquiries following in their footsteps. but he prides himself in the fact that he is greatly disciplined, his self-restraint and intellectual control are unmatched, and it is a blessing that levi can regulate his emotions with the stability that he does, because by god, you would never know peace otherwise.

only partially have i discussed the manipulative potential that levi has (and already possesses) but not as detailed, nor thorough, as i am about to now. this man will drive you up a fucking wall. you can kick and scream, yell until your voice goes hoarse and berate levi to your heart's content, but he won’t budge. you’ll only be met with a blank stare. and it’s honestly terrifying, you’ll find that some reaction, any reaction; angry, sad, hurt, and what have you, is better than nothing at all. the silence after is what kills you, and it does well to remind you of where you stand. he won’t give you the reaction you so desperately wish to see to soothe the nerves that flare when levi goes dead quiet. but he has no reason to paint himself in any bad light, levi has done nothing but good for you, and this is how he is reimbursed?

levi can cope with a darling that detests him, it most certainly will get under his skin, but he’ll live. specifically because he knows that you never asked to be put in a position that you were, one where there is no way out. because levi knows that if what was left of humanity had fallen, obliterated and defeated by the titans as everyone had once feared, you would leave him without a second thought or even sparing a farewell. and as understanding as he is of the unfortunate circumstances (for you) and the wonderful situation (for him), there is no ounce of empathy or pity that could ever topple levi’s hunger to have you. but he is possessive through and through. your love is irreplaceable, priceless even, but it is merely a perk to having you.

thus, levi doesn’t fret when it comes to getting you to love him, though that isn’t to say he disregards the endeavor entirely. he is eerily forbearing, with the patience of a saint and all the time in the world, levi is nothing if not restrained. be it a day, a month, a year, thirteen years, levi can wait because your submission is bound to overcome any sort of resistance you have left. you are the prettiest when you cave in, give in, and although almost as pleasant, your love cannot compare to your compliance, to your acceptance. that isn’t to say levi won’t try, he wants you to like him, but he acknowledges that learning to love him as he does you will take more time, and he can wait.

levi is a slow burn yandere to the end, and if you think you can best him in the long game, you have another thing coming. at the height of his infatuation, back to the very beginning, you may have found yourself maddened and infuriated to your wits’ end by his constant presence, but he has always been the one person to take such tender care of you; to the point it would be almost strange if he had so suddenly stopped. and when the battle of heaven and earth had become the last calamity to finally break you, you stop fighting him. you’ve only one another left, and levi is all yours, always has been, always will be, and maybe you’ll accept that you really are his.

[makethemhoesmad]

Sorry this took me a minute to officially get out and so sorry if it’s bad. This is my first time actually releasing my writing for anyone to read other than me. It’s also kinda short because 1) I only worked on it for around a weekish and the latest episode parts of the night 2) I really wanted to get at least the prologue out before the end of the week which I did so yay me! But honestly if you have any tips, critiques or recommendations for the next part I will really appreciate it!! Enjoy lovelys🫶

🪐

(this has also not been proof read or really edited once I officially finish part one I will probably re-do this I have just been busy and wanted to get this done. I’m also not 100% sure about the title so if you have a opinion on that lmk babe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Take me home

prologue: Beginning of the end

Pairing: paige bueckers x Azzi fudd

Themes: promptly fluff

Warnings: none that i’m aware of!

June 26th 2018

(Paige’s pov)

It was the final week of the rounds for try-outs for team USA when we were split into two teams that we would be on this week. Some of the girls on my team I recognized from the previous try-out days.

There was one girl I didn't recognize, but she was pretty good from what i’ve seen. There wasn't any denying she was going to make the team. As I watched the girl walk over to the water table I had convinced myself to go and talk to her.

“Hey i’m paige” I extend my hand out giving the briefly smaller girl, who’s currently sliding on the jerseys we got during the beginning of try-outs.

"Oh" The girl slightly jumped. "Um sorry hi, Azzi" She smiled reaching her hand out to meet mine.

Her smile immediately lights up the room instantly causing me too return one to the slightly shorter girl. Once our hands meet the feeling of warmth they bring to my normally cold hands, and the instant feeling of comfort she brings me.

"-uh Paige?" Bringing me back from whatever I was a soft, and gentle voice calling out my name.

"Sorry, zoned out for a minute" I responded with a reassuring smile trying not to make it awkward. "But uh, Azzi like Jennifer Azzi?"

"Yeah, actually it is" Her comforting smile now bigger than before she explains while I just listen throwing in my thoughts here and there to keep our conversation afloat. But before I knew it, it had already been fifteen minutes and we were about to start practicing.

"-But uh fun fact! you’re the first person outside of my family to know where I got my name from" The now grinning girl confessed as we were walking to the baseline.

By the time we reached the other side of the court we then started running simple exercises and drills. Which had eventually got tiring enough before coach had finally ended today’s session.

"Okay ladies good practice, remember to get some rest and be prepared for tomorrow we will be splitting up starting tomorrow. And I believe that is all I have for you, you are dismissed" Coach explained for the following day officially ending practice.

Before leaving I caught up to the girl currently walking ahead of me before stopping her. "I think it's cool you know" I looked at the girl in front of me with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Your name. I think it's cool that you're named after someone that good" I couldn't help but smile at the girl before walking out of the arena in the hot summer air.

ahh! it’s finally out once again i’m sorry if it didn’t reach any expectations so please please let me know your thoughts and would appreciate your feedback! bye babe🫶

ong rhis is amazing

[meatcatt]

Hello!! I found some of your art on Pinterest so I went searching and I found your twitter which led me here! I reallllyyyy love your art!! It's so cute. Especially how you draw Shamura- They're just a little bean!!

I also adore your Redo AU! Especially how Narinder is getting babied by his siblings haha. Makes me wonder their reaction would be to Lambert (Who I feel so bad for. They did not deserve this, the poor bby)

First off I want to say thank you for liking my art work, it means the world to me that though I have left the cult of the lamb fandom behind (mostly) that my blog and the art I’ve made can still be enjoyed by fans new and old. Redo au is my baby, and I’m glad so many people enjoy it despite its lack luster writing haha…

I have struggled to answer this ask because I want to make it clear you aren’t the problem. But I also desperately need people to know.

The reason I left the cult of the lamb fandom, and for awhile tumblr as a whole, was because my art work was constantly being stolen and re uploaded despite my wishes. Even with credit. And the main culprit was Pinterest (though YouTube and Reddit didn’t help).

I want to say again that this person, or anyone who found me through Pinterest, is absolutely not the issue. I also understand that part of having popular art in fandom is that it’s inevitably going to get stolen. I understand that. But it’s just. It hurts. Every time.

I cannot describe to you the mood killer it is to scroll looking for fandom stuff and see your own art work flashed at you. No credit and sometimes your watermark purposely removed. And the fact that it’s plastered on every page I have “please don’t repost my artwork even with credit” it feels like even more a punch to the gut. Because of those I considered even credited work stolen, because it deliberately goes against my wishes.

I know some people say “it doesn’t matter because you’re getting free exposure”. And they are right. This asker is exact proof of that. But! I post art work online for likes, comments, and reblogs. I know that might seem shallow but it’s true. I want to see people like my art, I want to see what people think about it. If I don’t I just keep it to myself or just show my friends which happens to be the majority of my work. Most of my stuff has never been posted publicly anywhere! And those likes and comments drive me, they make me want to create because people like my stuff! It makes me happy. And I can’t get that if someone steals it and takes it off site.

I left tumblr for a bit after discovering my entire tumblr had essentially been re-uploaded to Pinterest by a single user (most of the time it’s only a few of my most popular posts taken). Credit removed. I doom scrolled it for hours. I had to stop when I saw someone commented on my artwork saying “I love this art but who’s the artist, I can’t seem to find them anywhere?” I don’t know. It hurt.

I joined in stars and time fandom hesitantly, and after scrolling on YouTube got recommended a video that had my art work stolen in it. Not credit. And I’m heart broken. Maybe this shouldn’t hurt me so much. But it does.

[rootvegetableboy]

cm dev log #9 - july 2024

i think july might’ve been my most productive month yet! i really surprised myself with how much i achieved. it’s really satisfying proof that development is only getting faster & smoother the longer i go on :]

some really really exciting stuff implemented, including but not limited to…

new mechanics!

a surge/dodge mechanic has been added! press the spacebar to avoid incoming attacks! you can use this both directionally for a boost of speed, or while standing still to become invulnerable to damage for 15 whole frames. woah!!!

healing flask!! fuck everything else i’ve said in every log, good game design is all about beautiful potions. like all good potion ui, you get a little visual of your flask emptying:

reworking older systems!

i’m currently in the midst of reworking my save/load system! i’m not going to say too much, because… it’s one of the main hooks of my game… but it’s going real swell. i only have to do one more thing before this is in a workable state, which is:

i need to create a new in-game menu system from scratch =_=

this is something i’ve known was coming for a while, but i find coding UI pretty annoying sometimes, so i’ve been putting it off. the current in-game menu isn’t up to par with the artistic style of everything else, so i want to re-do it. i also plan on separating out the save/load menu from the in-game menu.

HOWEVER! i was able to do a successful collisions/hitbox rework this month in its entirety! this is huge, it’s an issue i noticed in january and has been bothering me all year!! it’s kind of hard to explain this one, so let me whip out some visual aids:

the dark rectangle around her feet is her collision box; when i write code that references a collision with the player, it’s checking for a collision with that box. such as… collisions with walls! or furniture! having it just around her feet is what allows me to fake a 3D look with only 2D art, so she can stand/walk in front of walls and objects and it doesn’t look horribly strange.

if her collision box included her head, she would stop moving as soon as the top of her sprite touched the bottom of the wall.. it would look and feel very odd!

but, you can immediately see where this becomes a problem when enemy bullets are checking for a collision with the player. she would get shot in the head and just like, be fine, it would go right through her…

i had the same problem with one of the enemies i’ve implemented, where i wanted to figure out a way to have both the collision box that comes with the sprite and a differently shaped hitbox. i hunted through a lot of forum posts for the best way to do it, but ultimately decided on what i personally thought to be the most “elegant” solution:

an entirely separate invisble object that follows all of the player’s exact movements and handles all of the player’s health and taken damage. (that’s all it does: the player object got to keep all its other code.)

i actually have no idea if this is optimal! but it works, and i got it working with minimal effort. it was a little trickier figuring out how to apply this concept to enemies, but i was able to write a little script so that every enemy i place in a room will spawn its own hitbox object. task complete!! the 3D illusion is secure and i can still maintain expected combat logic.

actual game content!

ah, finally…! after 9 months of development, the first miniboss is here…!!!

like a lot of things in game dev, you never really think about how much goes into a boss fight until you make one… but i had So Much Fun crafting this. im absolutely buzzing with ideas for future fights!

so, this all included: a small arena, pre-fight dialogue that automatically triggers when walking into said arena, barrier objects that appear during the fight so you can’t escape, and associated save/load scripts so that the boss doesn’t respawn if you leave the room and go back in. as for the miniboss herself, she gets her own special health bar with her name attached, and a state machine that cycles through three different attacks until she dies. (i haven’t coded player death yet lol)

some miscellanious stuff!

you may have noticed if you watched the video above, but i’ve changed the aspect ratio from 4:3 to 16:9. i like the nostalgia of a 4:3 but… i think with the way combat is emerging, the experience only benefits from the added screen space. you get a lot more room to see, and thus more time to react.

i’m finally starting on implementing music!! it’s getting atmospheric, babey!!! i’ve also got a little list of sfx that needs doing and i’m stoked to get started on it. video above doesn’t contain any sound because, i have not written a boss theme for her yet, and i didn’t want it to just be the shooting/damage sounds… i promise i am thinking a lot about sounds. and i can’t wait to dive into vcv rack to whip some up!!

i finally set up a github source control. files are secured. every other hobbyist dev should do this way earlier than i did

i’m proud, i did a lot! ^_^ i really want people to be able to playtest the miniboss fight soon—currently i plan on having one available to those interested in a couple of months! i have no idea how hard it actually is and i need some different eyes on it asap, so please let me know if that’s something you would be interested in :]

signing off for now… have a good august, everyone!

[vickyvicarious]

To be fair I can only recall Dracula as a classic vampire novel that had the male vampire cause a reaction akin to "wanting it to happen" in his victim during the act of blood drinking.

I think it's pretty significant that, in this case, Mina might have been emboldened to admit it out loud because Jonathan chose to be honest and write down the same thing about the vampire sisters.

So she now at least didn't feel alone in this. Hence why she then says "I suppose that's the kind of effect that his touch has on his victim".

(re: this post)

I think a large part of why we don't see it more with male vampires is also just down to vampires typically being the opposite sex of the narrator/victim. As the narrator is generally male (or a third-person POV closer to a male main character), the vampire is usually female. I assume this is because unless the author is specifically going for a gay vibes thing, as in Carmilla, they don't want to even bring up the possibility. Even Dracula shies away from having the predatory homoerotic dynamic made explicit by showing Dracula feeding on Jonathan or giving his POV of such an event.

Like I said in the tags of the original post as well, it seems quite likely to me that Lord Ruthven could produce a similar effect. But since he never feeds on Aubrey, there's no 'need' to show us that, and so we miss out on another male vampire doing that effect.

But you're absolutely right as well that it would be a lot more difficult for a woman to admit to any kind of sexual desire/enticement she was feeling than it is for a man. (Laura doing so is couched in the relative safety net of it being for another woman as opposed to a man, and her maintaining things like she 'doesn't understand' or is put off when Carmilla trespasses into behavior too lover-like as opposed to just a super close female friendship so that she can keep plausible deniability, and that's while trying to write a lesbian vampire story. Contrast to the narrator from the family of the Vourdalack who is actively and fairly openly involved in multiple love/sexual affairs.) And Mina in particular absolutely might not have said anything along the lines of even admitting that she doesn't want Dracula to stop (still less explicit than Jonathan saying he wanted the vampire ladies to kiss him before they'd touched him at all) if it weren't for the example Jonathan set of being honest even about such feelings. In a situation where she's already feeling like she's been made complicit, having his example to point to as proof that this at least isn't her fault (not that any of it was, but she obviously struggled with feeling guilty) must have been such a relief.

[comphetkoncass]

intro scene to the DCYJ fixit fic im writing. bc kon being angsty abt dying in that series doesnt make sense, but giving him 'the world moved on w/o you' trauma fits soooo much better. especially since his lines about "you want to go back to the real world? the one where i died? you think that world was so much better than this world where we get to be heroes in our glory days?" doesnt even make sense since the current 'real world' is, uh, the world where kon never even existed... cant die if you never existed, idk what to tell you

///

The statue of Superman at the Justice League is giving Kon whiplash, because he’s pretty sure he used to have one that looked almost identical. Same material, similar pose, similar size. But this one is Superman – in a way, it reminds him of the future that never was. The one where he eventually became Superman, himself, instead of the mantle getting passed onto Jon, because of course it would pass onto Jon – Kon didn’t exist in this timeline until this year. ...Plus, that Kon-El Superman  went evil, so. Maybe best to leave this all to Jon.

The Superman memorial statue stands next to several others. The Justice League assembles once more just to reflect the bright sunny day off their gold silhoettes – and it's a perfect atmosphere for a funeral, he thinks sarcastically.

But in the bright, overwhelming brightness, for a second, Kon truly sees the statue as his own memorial statue. Reality shifts again, then, and it’s back to being Superman. 

He still feels dazed. Dizzy. 

Cassie reaches for his hand, and it grounds him. Kon lets out a breath, and now it’s hard to imagine he ever saw himself in this stupid memorial. 

It’s funny. Remembering his own statue, Kon should really be more traumatized by dying. And he totally was, he won't deny it messed him up – but the thing is, trauma sort of has a recency bias. And losing his entire dimension, having the world re-written without him, knowing none of his friends remember him – that’s also right up there with dying. Top ten worst moments of his short existence, and the list is pretty damn competitive. And it happened within the last year, compared to not actually remembering how long ago he died anymore.

He remembers the day and time, but who knows when it would've been in this dimension, seeing as it never happened at all. Can't die if you never existed.

Besides... However bad dying was, even if he never really processed that one or told his friends about it – at least his friends had been there for him afterwards. And at least his friends had grieved him. It's selfish (and Kon feels bad, but not that bad; he's always been little selfish with his friends' affection) – but he misses knowing they grieved him. Because it was solid, concrete proof that they’d loved him, that they'd missed him. Missed him to the point of real, genuine mental health crises, sure, and there's a lot to unpack about the particular ways Tim and Cassie grieved – but there was no questioning that they cared. That he had mattered enough to care about. 

...In this world, he didn’t even exist. 

His friends remember grieving him, now that they’ve met him. The spark is there; the realities crashed together and now his friends just remember two timelines. But that doesn’t change that there’s a timeline where he was never there at all. 

Sometimes, he wonders. With the amount of grief he gave them, do they look more fondly on the one where they never had a Superboy to mourn?

Cassie squeezes his hand again, forcing his attention outward. He must not react enough, because she bumps her shoulder against his, leans up and mouths 'Are you okay?'

Even Bart and Tim are looking his way now. Way to make a JLA funeral about you, Kon, he thinks. He gives a quick thumbs up, and tries to stop zoning out. There are speeches, after all. He should probably be taking notes on the eulogies. Given how the hero community keeps dying, he'll probably have to start writing them soon. If he doesn't get his own first, he thinks. If he even gets one. He hasn't left much of an impression yet.

Selfish, he thinks. Got to stop being selfish. Roll with the punches. This is the real world now. Considering it was rewritten without you in it, you should probably just be thankful to exist at all.

The speech ends, and Kon joins his hands together to clap along with the rest of the world.

[glowyjellyfish]

I started rewatching OUAT. Apparently my brain decided it was just time. I considered doing a full liveblog with silly gifs, but that would be a lot more effort than I want to put into it.

1. I know I still have one follower from my OUAT days, but am not sure about anybody else. So to recap: I loved OUAT to pieces and probably put more thought into things like the timeline and side characters than the writers did. And I loved OUAT in Wonderland EVEN MORE and still think they did a better job on that tightly plotted story than meandering on OUAT. I stopped watching mid-season 4, after they did and didn’t do several things to my favorite characters that broke my faith in the quality, but I did keep watching and mostly enjoying through the Frozen arc and the main reason I didn’t continue was just… I never got the urge to watch a new episode again. And then I was glad I stopped when I did, because what little I heard about it sounded increasingly dumb, bonkers, and, in the case of that soft reboot or whatever that was, insulting. I’m only planning to rewatch the first two seasons plus Wonderland, but if I’m enjoying myself I will probably keep going until I am not. Probably making more fun of it than before.

2. My favorites, in rough order of when I glimpse into them, are Graham, Dr. Whale, Neal, and Will. Anyone familiar with the show will probably understand exactly how the show broke my heart. I also love Rumple and Regina, and find the rest of the main cast pretty great, but there is a difference between loving a character and A Favorite.

3. I watched through the first five episodes, and was pleased to find I still liked it, and not only that, I still felt it was pretty good overall. The cheesiest parts so far are the fairy outfits, the CG, the Cinderella parts of the Cinderella episode, and some awkward dialogue when a writer didn’t know how to write old fashioned well. It shines in its characters, and the development of Regina and Rumple has so far been the absolute highlight. Emma has never been particularly high on my list of beloved characters, but she delivers fantastic feelings throughout. I know logically that way too much focus will be given to them down the road, but Snow and Charming are so damn charming and cute. The parallels between the flashbacks and the present day are also really well done, using them for character development. That’s something I think the show fumbled a little with after season 1, and got worse and worse about over time, and I also think it’s something OUATW did EXTREMELY well. But I’ll see how it looks as I watch it.

4. I do wish the show had been a little bit more clear about the town being basically in a time loop, because man what a fucked up place to raise a child. I guess they wanted to pretend it could just be Henry’s imagination for a while there to hedge their bets, but why not have Henry say “I was in the same class as that kid last year and now he’s still 9 and in third grade and I’m 10 now, what more proof do you need??” (And then Regina starts insisting he skipped a grade or something). I’m not anti-Regina at all, but lady you cannot raise a child and have him be the only person that ages and expect him to grow up normal.

5. I was on Regina’s side re Emma not being allowed to come into Henry’s life up until Regina started doing illegal shady shit to try to force Emma to leave. That’s obviously the point, but she really shot herself in the foot.

6. …I feel so bad for Graham. Poor guy. He’s the one sticking point that I wish Regina had ever made up for or felt bad about. She’s super sympathetic until you remember she literally had a sex slave who she then murdered. I mean, she’s the evil Queen, I did not expect her to behave otherwise. They just really wanted to quietly forget about it when they wanted to redeem her. Also, was Graham’s wolf dragged along to the curse—was the wolf cursed, too? Or did the wolf spend 28 years running around the woods, trying to figure out what happened to Graham and why his brother didn’t come to the woods with him anymore? The wolf also made Emma stay in town the first night, so my gut says “the wolf knew what was up”. Ugh, if I was writing the show I would have made Graham’s spirit survive death by going into his wolf and then bring him back later, like a certain wolf-bonded man from another fandom I love, but ugh it’s fine. I feel bad for him, but the character was clearly designed to flirt with Emma and then die.

7. I also think it’s fucking wild that, while cursed, Rumple somehow managed to procure for Regina a child that was both the son of the breaker of the curse and his grandson. I expect it’s a function of the breakability of the curse that Emma’s son was brought in—that perhaps Rumple was aware of that when he was going to lengthy measures to set up a trigger for his memories and everything else. I guess, within what I remember of the show thus far, Henry being his grandson and thus his downfall is the price he’s paying for constructing this elaborate curse manipulating generations of people to get his son back? Idk, we’ll see.

8. So like… if most people are cursed in a specific way that denies them what they love most, and some people definitely had details specifically curated by Regina personally, and Regina also had to go out of her way to make sure and curse Jefferson and Whale, because they weren’t in Fairy Tale Land at the time… well, I’m just wondering whether Whale’s cursed womanizer personality is because it’s amusingly apt for Dr. Frankenstein, or if it’s something Regina designed for him specifically because she saw him as breaking her heart, or something.

9. Not really feeling any ships atm. I never shipped Swan Queen, but periodically a scene between Emma and Regina will make me go “…okay I get it.” In theory I ship Emma/Graham, but mostly I shipped it because I loved him and felt so bad for him. Snow and Charming are precious, but I never found there to be much point in shipping them because they’re so canon, and they’re not the type of couple I find most intriguing. I should note that I was always actively against Emma/Hook, and really Emma/anyone; I wanted her to take more time for herself. I loved Neal, but didn’t particularly care whether he ended up with Emma, and felt that reducing him to a point on a love triangle is what made the writers get rid of him despite there being SO MUCH MORE they could do with him. I used to ship Whale/Ruby, we’ll see how I feel about that this time but I do still believe it was being set up for a while. And I still ship Rumple/Belle and Will/Ana. We’ll get there. I am sort of hoping I will spot new ships to ship as I go along, but perhaps not because I do know how things go for the most part.

And that’s all so far. I really don’t know that anybody will care, but I like giving my little reports if I cannot muster up the wherewithal to actively liveblog.

A few gifs describing Rumple because they amused me:

[frostythelawfullchaotic]

Oh my god, I knew generative AI was eroding media literacy, but I couldn't possibly have imagined how bad it was!!!!

Okay, story time;

Our adventurer group is about to set out for a new tabletop round and my spouse wanted to make some summaries of which new story to choose for our friends...

aaaand he insisted on using ChatGPT for that because he's "not good at expressing himself". I gave some advice, like take notes first of what you want to say, phrase it and rephrase it till you like it, have me have a look at it and re-phrase it together. Nope, that's "too much work"...

(And yep, he knows my stance on it and I showed him several studies to proof that AI is bullshit for professional purposes, unreliable, un-ecological, ect. He thinks I'm just "trying to live in the past". ME of all people!!! So anyway...)

He then handed me "his" draft to get some feedback. I revisioned it like I would do with any other piece of text - and I warn you. I have an absolute no bullshit attitude when it comes to text editing. So my evaluation was.

"Too long for a short summary. Too much irrelevant details. Redundant empty phrases. Bad language stylistics - this isn't a sales pitch, it's a resume. (You don't need "thrilling" or "exciting" in an info text) Also I don't understand what half or this is supposed to say - and neither will out friends. Usless, can it, redo from scratch."

First of all, he took it personally. Like, fam, you didn't even write that! What the hell are you offended about? Then he complained about me shooting everything down "without explaining why besides saying it's bad". I very much did explain my reasoning and went into detail, especially for the style.

Because when you write a text, you keep the recipient in mind. Know your audience!

(I told him; "You KNOW our friends! Imagine Kate reading this, imagine Markus reading this. They will not understand what this is supposed to say or get hung up on unimportant details.")

I kid you not. We sat there almost an hour redoing a text that had a full length of 12 phrases!!! And the whole time he refused to try on his own and prompted again and again, always annoyed when I criticised the flaws. And they were such obvious flaws!!! Like missing crucials or unexplained names or the same word three times within one sentence. Like, did this man instantly forget how to read?!!! I was absolutely flabbergasted that I even had to point out stuff like that in the first place!!!

And when I argued about cutting things out or rephrasing them in a more elegant way, he was like "but I want to include x" or "I would say it like y".

THEN WRITE IT DOWN!!!

Literally nobody is stopping you!!!! I encourage you to do so!!!!!

I was hardly ever this frustrated with this man. He's not dumb or gullible by any means, but lately he brings home so many trash takes that I gotta be constantly on my toes and do so much fake news debunking that sometimes I genuinely don't want to talk to him at all. I stay resilient, providing data and information and as much patience as I can funnel. But that was such a complete waste of time and nerves that could have been completely and easily avoided and I'm tired to do this over and over and over again.

Anyway, if you think AI slop is good for anything than wasting time and resources, I'm gonna snap your neck with my own bare hands.

[cintaagee]

Moving on? Or moving in?

Things are at a standstill. Everything feels like it´s awaiting my decisions and now it seems like I am starting to get overwhelmed and crawl back into my shell.

It´s either a new flat, loose life of hobbies, writing, free time, nature, loneliness and self reliance. Either with a job that could be the same I have now or whatever comes along to pay for health and social insurance, I would have a lot of time, almost nothing to take care of.

Or this hectic comfort zone where I have my place in constant chaos, no free time, expensive life, every facility close and one unresolved issue with three moneygrubbing bastards who get money for something they actively avoid doing. Oh yeah and one manchild who does not get the notion of responsibility, because he never had to in the real sense, all he knows that if he works, money comes and that´s it.

It´s true though, he takes care of only the problems that bother him, I mean, anybody does, right? But does not see the deeper picture.

Is that true though, because I know he used to feel so entitled and annoyed if I asked him for something simple.

Is he just really afraid for his safety and is he going to go back to his old ways if I give him freedom to do as he pleases?

Well I mean experiences say so. As soon as he felt safe, all commitment usually went out the window.

Maybe i need to keep him at an arms length and take the option of deciding that out of his hands.

Because it hurts. When he stops trying, supporting, loving, talking, and hides away in his little bubble.

And all I ever wanted was for him to feel safe enough to be himself.

Still bugs me that I don´t really know, who that is.

Maybe I don´t need to, I just need to hope he´s capable enough to know right from wrong if I leave him to his devices.

And I need my freedom, because being isolated in this void is overwhelming.

summary:

Maybe move out, help him ease his consciousness... helping the girl he hurt could be a good start.

Push him to accountability to take care of the baby.

If I meet resistance he´s afraid of the punishment/responsibility or he thinks he doesn´t deserve it.

First option could be viable but knowing now that he´s a good liar, second option is also very viable because of his delayed reaction to my horrified face and trying to justify his action by blaming her.

I mean everytime I write it down it sounds like I live around and love a monster and then I come home to the sweetest man you can imagine. Dexter vibes huh?

Man I just wish the sex wasn´t so good.

While moving out, try and establish contacts with a logistics companies and markets for food that is cheaper because I wanted to establish a company that helps old people that do not want to leave their home.

I mean, a person on the phone, taking care of 5-6 clients, cleaning apartments, bringing groceries, leaving messages to their loved ones so they know how they´re doing because sometimes they just don´t want to be a burden and don´t tell you how it really is.

one thing though...either driving them around so they can pick up their prescriptions... or having an established contact with a doctor or a nurse because I know there´s things that they leave to family to do because of underfunded staff and if you do it right you´re just as capable. It´s just so undignified for the person receiving care and every task should be verified by a licence or a written guarantee of training that person thoroughly in that task, with photos of proof. Because there is too much that can go wrong, starting from an uncapable person, over unwilling person to a person who would take advantage of every situation. I mean unless you have a nurse on the go there is no other way legal and they cost really a lot.

Especially after recent law changes.

Or just...write. I mean recently I don´t feel my voice having much f value or weight to it because it seems like anybody wants to hear it or wants to share encouragement or notes or advice or basically anything. But I try, it´s all anyone can do, right? Man, I have been alone in this monologue for so long. I just wish someone could see me, someone equal. Tiredness of this kind really wears you down.

[bisluthq]

Is Shawn gay for real? People joke about it all the time but I am serious. Before Camila, he never had a public gf and Hailey does not count that was not a real couple- more like situationship or hook up.

Apparently he used to date his prom date Lauren but I dont know if there is proof of that. He tweeted he used to have a secret gf in like 2017 for two years which could be a lie. Every other singer flaunts their gf or bf but he gives bearded vibes ngl. We know every male pop star women they claim and they are affectionate publicly to them.

That photo of Shawn from last summer with his guy friends who were all obviously girly pop is so funny. A straight man can be friends with a gay guy but that many of them...kinda sus

I heard some rumours so take it with a grain of salt, but I heard Shawn dad is homophobic...

bruh. Bruh. Shawn has BEGGED people not to discuss this so this discussion will genuinely be my 13th reason. He says it makes him uncomfy, that it makes him super self-conscious, and that as far as he knows he’s not gay lol (tho he’s also not homophobic and *is* an ally but some of his denials come off somewhat homophobic but ALSO just LEAVE HIM ALONE that’s all he’s asked for and then he wouldn’t have to issue weird sounding denials). Who KNOWS lol? Maybe Shawn himself doesn’t. But it’s super weird to speculate about something that personal when a person LITERALLY BEGS FANS not to. When a celeb - or fwiw a person you know - says “I am asking people very nicely not to discuss my sexuality” and you keep doing it that’s super messed up.

Now people who are soft closeted - like Richard Madden lol where super legitimate publications put “roommate” in inverted commas because he doesn’t want to publicly come out but he’s also not exactly doing anything to hide it - are fair game lol we can all have a chuckle about that. (Not at Richard so much but at people who don’t buy that he’s yk not straight even though he’s doing bugger all to hide it beyond saying “I’m not gonna publicly come out because it’s not your business” essentially like obvi everyone who knows Richard irl knows his “roommate” is his bf and anyone with two brain cells knows whichever flavor of the year it is is in fact his bf). When celebs signal before they publicly come out or just like to hint they’re open to it, also fair enough (like Rihanna has never said “I’m bi” but she’s made enough comments that obviously she’s at least somewhat into women). But if someone explicitly says “this makes me extremely uncomfortable, KINDLY stop doing this” idk why anyone would feel the need to keep going??

This is also my issue with even the softest Gaylors atp - she’s asked people to stop??? She says it makes her feel weird??? She hasn’t said it makes her feel as weird as Shawn said it made him feel but she’s also asked to like shut it down???? Which part’s not clicking???

Finally re public gfs idk lots of people in the public eye don’t want to date super publicly - some for sexuality reasons for sure, some because they tend to date more normies, some because like idk about y’all but I don’t hard launch every fucking thing I’m involved in so why would celebs? It’s imo sorta weird to go “well this person doesn’t post a bunch of flings on Insta and they don’t take dates to celeb hotspots and don’t date people as famous as them necessarily so ergo they don’t date anyone” yk? (Not saying that’s what you said because you did say PUBLIC gf but like my point is public is irrelevant bc we don’t know who they’re seeing outside of the sliver of their life that we are privy to).

Anyway, my personal rules are if a person says they don’t like that conversation, stop having it. Also don’t accuse people of queerbaiting because real people genuinely can’t lol? That’s a term created for shows and films and books that tease it to keep a gay audience with no intention of writing it into the plot. Don’t accuse people of being fake gay either because MANY OF US experiment and aren’t quite sure of exact labels and that’s okay too. Normalize just saying like… people are people and celebs are people. If labels make them happy, dope. Trust that they know that whichever one they’re using rn fits them best in their own head or at least is the best one for them to say out loud. Also remember that you’re allowed to change your labels. You’re allowed to experiment and try shit out on all sides of the equation. You’re allowed to have a preference but pepper in some other stuff lol. Idk man just let people vibe.

Gossiping about celeb mess is fun lol but gossiping about something that personal like… being gay/queer LABEL WISE or “are they closeted???” isn’t mess it’s a super personal thing and idk man. Like if you wanna say lol - with some evidence - “I heard Shawn kissed a boy at this party he went to lol” I’d be like “lmaooo what happened” but that’s got fuck all to do with his label/speculation about his identity then - that’d just be a fun rumor about him doing something a bit wild. It’s the speculation on identity that I have a problem with? I’ll add the one thing I’m even more hectic about tho is fertility speculation because there’s NO WAY that can be a fun rumor. Also serious psychiatric diagnoses like if you say someone is on the spectrum or has a personality disorder idk why that’d be a fun rumor. Gossiping about mess = funny. Gossiping about real deep shit like… isn’t fun or funny to me and shouldn’t be to anyone with a tad of empathy.

Fyi that’s also my rule for real life gossip. Hilarious to hear like my friend got drunk and made out with a bunch of people and like snorted ❄️ off someone’s tits or w/e. Not hilarious to be like “did u hear that couple is going for IVF but it’s not working” yk??? Just have idk empathy.

[the-firebird69]

We're saying the same thing over and over we are and it's not very pretty either we need to make a change here and we need to do it tonight. You say the same thing for thousands of years nothing worked, some people might have a little bit of nearsightedness, we've worked tirelessly and that programs that must be attended to and people are known enough and cannot be left alone I am sick and tired of these individuals in this neighborhood I requesting that Olympus get off it and get them out is this leader of ours and his wife who are doing the right thing and the work I'm putting it in writing so sending it now we have alternates we need to use out and I know a lot of people want them out and I want your help I will find out if ours are preventing it at All.

We have some saying that they're lighting it up that they're too dangerous to have wandering around and I will look at that

-we didn't see them get the 6th letter it was delivered to them by their own courier after his transferred beyond the perimeter. And they read it and it said several things:

*are you here or not here by anyone's authority except your own and it is not recognized slowly because you are a terrorist organization and have been attacking everybody to fulfill your own needs without doing much work and all and it went on

*we cannot and will not support you anyway and any longer due to this fact however we are requesting that you shut down your operation which is made to attack us and we are formally requesting you do so

*it listed stipulations and what they're asking for and it made sense and they had it numbered and priority and they want them to stop assembling nuclear weapons near them and completely it is far more than irritating and they do have information on what they say they're going to do them each and every instance on and on they went about proof

*we will not tolerate further actions upon us because he's an assist all military strikes and actions on us including spies and infiltration

*we will not tolerate any kind of build up there are borders regardless of where they are they will be fired upon immediately you have no right to do so this is not your planet

*here to hand over people you have kidnapped and a holding prisoner immediately we will speak to you if you wish to negotiate regarding this item

*dwe do not want further hostilities between us. We wish for a peaceful resolution it said

*it went on to list what to do with certain arms because they keep making certain ones to breach areas and such

*finally the document said this in different words for the same meaning anytime you can tell what you're doing any dummy can tell what you're doing and what you're up to here , you are to cease and decist all thesr operations or you'll be fired upon

*it went on to explain how the round of what they're doing and how wrong they are about what they're doing and the math and the code that they're breaking and how it deserves attention and can't be ignored no matter what you're doing because they keep talking people into doing stuff

*it said this at the end you don't like you messing up our lives day to day 24 hours a day the rest of our dream really badly. It said this for a different words it's informal language that they write about trees and things treaties and things like that finally it went on

*you don't want you near any of our people when we restrict your excess whether it's here or anywhere and they baulked it that one

*they do not want them harassing people who are valuable he would force the law

*you don't want them eating and a bedding make a criminals or anyone for that matter or foreign Nations they put it in writing

*did you not want them to behave like little children and trying to kidnap people

And that's just the letter. Several points to it above seem unclear and it's because the machine is a pain and people change things so you'll have to figure it out.

Other parts of the letter were explaining what's going to happen if they refuse to comply and it didn't seem like if you did one item that things would slow down and help for time now they haven't done anything requested at all and send it and they don't seem to intend to do anything in the letter requests this time either. They say where they're going to hit and how rapidly and that's what it says

This time we got the letter and they read it aloud and crumpled it up and threw it in a basket yes and symbolic. The empire used to use this method, and on the warlock to impress on other people that they were serious and it worked for years no it worked for a long time. They feel a little work again and they're already making demands and are being ignored.

We are getting ready to make war on the empire if necessary their attitude is bad what they're saying is awful and they're positioning is not good they seem to be amassing at the borders of several populated areas and we do not want them there they are approximately 10 to 20 mi outside of the outskirts or outside of the suburbs really of several areas that are populated that could contain hours potentially they think. And they have two to three trillion troops there. The areas have military and just more or less a combined Force and they requested that they dispersed and they won't. Wedo know what armament they have. We do see our father and mother are saying. We have a system for dealing with this no. And would you know where their ships are and we do see what our father and mother are getting it there's only one thing to do is tell them to go screw. As we're speaking I sent the orders is 20 locations around the world and we are going to be strict and I do see what he's saying there are about 7 million ships near each grouping and we're getting a counter offensive ready and we have a lot of heavy on the ground there used to winning battles and it's a cautionary statement by our father and mother to be ready and to overpower them is what we bring and the local people bring and the are seeing it. They are watching us rolling in and don't seem to want to piece of that. You're on the phone and the calling in. They told to stand thirr ground. And we opened the line and told them to disperse to go back to their homes or what have you in this case go back to the ships and leave Earth's orbit. They're giving a weird look and it is one that they give corks and it means what we're asking them sounds strange and they imply that they don't have to comply. They are just about to gear up and hear this on the radio can't afford to be wiped out in front of people you see the force that's brought against you it is overwhelming and then tell them to withdraw and it's true... And yeah we brought like 10 times as many everything. They are bringing the troop transports and removing troops. We have the diplomatic pouches ready I was sending them to the empire. In them are several letters they request information on why they were there but they're going to do they are told not to organize outside and city limits ever and then it says it is looked at as an act of war if you eat on us you will be destroyed. And what they saw was combined firepower of the foreigners and us and other and it was awesome they're fleet in space is very large but when you combine others it's bigger and it was a show of force used to deny the empire dominion over areas that are not theirs.

Should this happen again the same measures will be brought.

We print now

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues this is bad but we do the right thing and will continue to Hera

[strawberry-cowmilk]

Alright here's for you~

Now what if a new human exchange student arrived in RAD and was doing pretty well. He and MC got along pretty well. However there was something about him that was strangely familiar to the brothers.

Now one day Diavolo called over the brothers.

They arrived into the a meeting room which had a glass wall that could see the entire garden.

Once they were all seated. Diavolo started to speak. "I have made an interesting discovery of our new exchange student, Philip."

"And that is?" Lucifer said with a brow raised.

"Philip is the descendant of lilths lover."

How would they react to this

Hi, anon! Such an interesting concept you have thought of, I'll write your request! I hope you like it!

the brothers react to mc's friend being distantly related to lilith's lover

-> brothers x mc

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: spoilers for lesson 16, 5 and 6, angst, withdrawal

-----

Lucifer

he goes quiet for a bit, but there's a rage burning inside of him

lucifer kind of dislikes whoever lilith's human lover was, not only because he is her older brother, but also because he blames the lover for the war

but, the reason within him says he shouldn't blame your friend for what had happened

though he will keep more of a distance from him from now on

Mammon

he doesn't know how to respond to the news

mammon liked your friend too, he doesn't know how he should view him after learning this information

he will withdraw himself into his room for a while, which is concerning because he is, well, mammon

you have to go to him and let him vent his feelings

Leviathan

levi didn't talk to the new exchange student before, and now he thinks he never will

like lucifer, he kind of views his sister's lover as one of the root causes of a war that had brought him many problems

he needs to be alone for a bit after having heard diavolo's words

so, he camps in his room for a good two days, talking only to his pet fish

Satan

unlike his brothers, satan didn't know lilith very well

this fact was also something that caused him to feel a bit more alienated from his family

after learning the news, he is angry, of course, but not quite as much as other brothers

he knows he should be more upset, he is the avatar of wrath, and lilith was his sister, but he can't do so

Asmodeus

asmo also took a liking to your new friend, so learning this news was of course a shocker

he needs a moment to calm down and clear his mind

once asmo feels a bit better, he believes he shouldn't get upset with the new exchange student over this, he can't choose his ancestors, after all

asmo starts to re-build his relationship with your friend at an appropriate pace

Beelzebub

he is probably one of the brothers who takes the news the hardest

beel doesn't want to accidentally get caught up in the moment and hurt your friend, so he leaves to go somewhere alone

you go after him, because he clearly needs comfort

when you two are alone, you listen to beel letting all of his feelings out

he also knows your friend isn't responsible for anything, but he just can't look at him the same now

Belphegor

he gets really, really mad for a moment there

but then he remembers what he did to you that day in the attic, he can't make the same mistake with your friend, you'd hate him for it

belphie just wants to be alone for now, so he leaves the scene

you try to go after him, but diavolo stops you

belphie ended up cooping himself up in the attic for a week, and don't expect him to talk to your friend again

[shedaresthedevil]

They Say the Beast Inside of Me is Gonna Get Ya

Pairing: Matt Murdock X NB!reader

18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: SPICE. WHOLE LOTTA SPICE. Dom/Sub, Dom! Matt, sub! Reader,afab!reader, primal kink, SLOW BURN, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex, light degradation, allusion to female anatomy, angst, violence, INHALER WARNING FOR MY BEST AVOCADO.

Word count: 5,774

A/N: Custom fic request for @lexlovescoffee . This was a long one to write because my brain would not stop thinking of things to add to it. I hope its everything you wanted.

This was proof read and edited, so if you find a mistake; no you didn't. I will be re-reading it a thousand time to continue to edit because I am a perfectionist.

@matt-erialgirl @loki-silver-tongued-god and @freshabogados enjoy.

1:00 AM: The Docks

“You ready?” Matt whispered, flashing his teeth in an overconfident grin. The grin itself was a lie.

“Almost, just a minute. Are you still sure this is a good idea?” you replied, pulling your short waves back and out of the way. The breeze off the water was cold against the shorter sides of your head.

“Of course. If you can evade me, you can evade anyone. Don’t tell me you’re getting nervous sweetheart.” Matt uttering the half-truth. The reality was that he was the anxious one.

You rolled your eyes, a smile parting your lips as you scoffed.

“Nervous? Never. Excited maybe, but not nervous.”

Matt stepped closer to you, the half foot of difference in height between you seeming more considerable than normal. Something about how Matt carried himself as Daredevil made him seem taller. Maybe it was how straight he stood, or perhaps it was because you could see how heavily built he truly was, even through the black fabric of his clothes. You were always in awe of just how distracted Matt could make you in just pants and a shirt, but that shirt? Those pants?

You found yourself pulling your lip between your teeth thinking about what was beneath them.

“Are you sure?” he smirked, dropping his voice low as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“If you don’t behave yourself, I’m going to be a different kind of excited, and that would be cheating, counselor.”

Matthew let out a soft laugh, stepping back.

“I suppose you would be correct. Let’s go over it again.”

“I’m going to try and escape you, whatever that takes. If that means hiding, I hide. If that means fighting you to get away, I must do so. If that means running, I must do so. I have to evade you by any means necessary, but I cannot leave the docks or the shipyard.” You ran though it for what felt like the hundredth time.

“And?”

“And don’t hold back because you won’t either.”

“And if at any point you feel unsafe, you-” he continued, wanting to make sure that you knew.

“Will call out the safe word. Matt, I know were only fighting defensively, not to hurt each other. Not unless I have to.” You finished for him, crossing your arms to pull your hoodie in tighter. Correction; Matt’s hoodie. You had grabbed it, hoping it would be enough to confuse his sense of smell.

“Swear to me. Promise me that you will say it if you need to.” He licked his lips, growing more apprehensive by the second.

You paused, stunned at his sudden urgency. Concerned, you stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of you once again. Matt let out a deep breath as you reached forward, placing your hand at the back of his head to play with the small amount of hair that was exposed beneath the mask to soothe him.

“What’s on your mind. Talk to me.”

Matt Murdock was at a loss. Initially, he had thought your idea to be a brilliant one. You wanted to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you could keep up with him. He had laughed, telling you that you didn’t need to prove anything.

“If I can fight and get away from the Devil, I can fight and get away from anyone.” You had countered, standing your ground.

You had talked for hours about ground rules, what was allowed and what was not. When to do this exercise and where. You had both decided that late night at the shipyard, on the one day of the week where no dock workers would be there, was the best time and place. You had set a time limit of two hours. Matt had argued that you would need to be offensive in order to get him off you if he were to catch you, and you had compromised; both of you would only fight defensively, with you being able to switch if the need arose.

“Only with enough force as is needed, not excessive.”

“No, you will get away by whatever means necessary.”

“Fine.”

Now? Now he was nervous. What if this made you afraid of… him? The fight between the two of you in the parking structure upon your first- well, second meeting-had been more of a dance. A battle of wills rather than strength. The struggle between the two of you had been exhilarating, fun even. But this? This was entirely different. He knew how stubborn you were- in that you were both evenly matched. Matt was afraid of going too dark, of hurting you. The creature inside him, the one that would not allow him to quit, stirred and clawed at its cage. He swallowed hard, a tense smile forming across his face.

“It’s nothing. I just…”

The Beast inside of me is going to get you.

The thought echoed within the confines of his mind.

“You’re afraid you’re going to hurt me, aren’t you?” you concluded, wrapping your arms around him.

This man was a saint, always putting others before himself. Sometimes he cared too much.

“I told you before, when we had that conversation about activities, that I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me on purpose. I absolve you of any accidental wrongdoing.”

Oh, he remembered. The conversation where you were against the brick wall in his apartment …with his hand wrapped around your throat. That conversation that had escalated into the two of you devouring each other, in every sense of the word.

“This…isn’t the same thing. I am different when I’m chasing someone.”

“I know. I’ve seen it. That’s why this is important to me. Your prey drive is insane- you don’t quit Matt. If I can get away from you, then you can worry for me less when were out. In this instance, I am the prey, and you are the hunter. It’s not complicated. Just pretend that I’m some attractive assassin that killed a man because he looked at me the wrong way. I am not afraid of you Matthew; I never have been, never will be.”

That would help him be less anxious about you being with him in the night, that was true. But the drive that you were talking about is what was making him fearful. It was a drive in him that was almost… primal. Matt reached down and tilted your face up to his, placing his lips on yours. He heard your heart rate increase, felt the pounding of your blood against his hand. You were here, you were whole. Matt conceded to continue. He broke away from you, just as a small moan escaped your mouth. Making you excited would, in fact, give him an advantage. Matthew Murdock was not one for cheating. He touched his forehead to yours, breathing you in one last time.

“Alright. You have a ten-minute head start, then the devil is coming for you.”

1:32 AM

You had taken off like a shot, a thrill rushing through you. Your many plans and ideas surfaced in your mind. Just because there were no dock workers, didn’t mean there couldn’t be noise. You aimed to find the loudest place in the shipyard, the edge closest to the city. Hell’s Kitchen was still buzzing and very much alive, even in the late hours of the night. Along the way, throughout the hundreds and hundreds of shipping crates and trailers, you had rubbed your perfume and a shirt you had brought with you to throw off Matt’s sense of smell. You even went as far as to cut your hand open to smear blood in various places. You focused on regulating your breathing, trying not to be too loud, attempting to keep your heart rate as even as you could. You picked up some gravel along the way, something to throw-to make noise with. After you felt satisfied with your diversions, you centered your attention on finding a spot to hide. One where Matt could not sneak up on you, one with multiple exit points. Anything confined would not work, if Matt could trap you in a small space, you were done for.

1:45 AM

Matthew had given you three extra minutes; you were going to need them. He started walking, feeling the stress of the day fall away and the focus of the hunt sink in. Matt drew in a deep breath, the fuel of the machinery, the salt of the water, and the steel of the shipping containers assaulting him first. Then, you. The scented oil you wore, the natural chemistry of your body, and your blood. He smirked to himself. Smart, you were so smart. The amount of perfume and blood was vaguely overwhelming. It was achieving what you had intended, but blood dried and scents on cold surfaces would fade eventually. Matt listened for your breathing, your pulse, both of which were hard to discern with the rest of the hearts beating throughout the city. As he got closer, it would become easier for him to hear it. He felt himself getting riled up at the thought of chasing you and eventually seizing you. Hunter and prey indeed.

2:06 AM

On top of a shipping container, in the space between the two that rested atop it, you waited. There were three exit points, one up and one to either side. You had wrapped your hand to staunch the bleeding, not wanting the origin of the scent to give away your position. You sat in your hiding spot, checking your watch to see how much time had passed. You knew Matt would find you, that much was inevitable, it was simply a question of when. You could not let your guard down for even a moment. It was not Matt you would be facing off with, it was the Devil. When Matt was in full focus mode, he was damn near impossible to get away from. You couldn’t deny that it sent a bolt of excitement through your body, the thought of the devil being set free to chase you.

“I can smell how excited you are. Did you really think you would get away?”

You heard his voice ring out, taunting you. He sounded distant, still far enough away for you to run and choose a different spot to hide if you wanted to.

“Does the thought of the devil catching you make you wet?” he continued, closer still. You heard the distinct sound of a piece of metal being run against the corrugation of the steel containers. He was closer than you thought, and he wanted you to know it.

“Someone’s having too much fun.” You thought, shaking your head.

Carefully, you got to your feet, ready to fight or flee; whichever came first. You felt your heart rate increase, anxious at the silence. Everything else fell away, you were breathing too loud, your pulse pounding in your temples. Then you heard it, the smallest shift of a boot. Your head snapped to the side, seeing the top of Matt’s head rising from the end of the container. He was climbing up, and you needed to move.

2:07 AM

Matt felt your foot connect with his chest as it came into view. His grip on the shipping container was almost lost. Almost. You were holding back, which was a mistake. The Devil couldn’t wait to have his hands on you, to bite into your skin, bruise your thighs…he might even make you scream.

“No, not that. That’s not what were trying to do here.”

Matt shook his head, nearly imperceptibly.

“Oh, sweetheart you’ll have to hit harder than that.” Matt teased, pulling himself upward and reaching to grab you.

You had jumped up between the two adjacent containers to avoid him, your feet anchoring your body weight. You jumped up again, climbing onto the top of the steel box and sprinting down the row of them. Matt was gaining ground behind you; gods damn he was fast. You dropped into a space similar to your original hiding spot, waiting for him to drop in after you. Matt did so, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he could. Just like you had planned.

“I’ve got you.” He growled in your ear, voice low and hoarse.

“Do you? Or do I have you?” you smirked.

Matt’s head tilted to the side, amused.

You slammed your head backwards into his throat, shoving his body into the wall of the container and knocking the wind out of him. He did not release you, but his grip loosened enough for you to break his hold and slip out of his grasp. You rolled off the side of the box, landing on your feet and running yet again.

2:10 AM

Matt’s throat burned from where your head had struck him. This only made the beast claw harder, yearning to get out. His legs moved quickly, closing the distance between you. His arm shot out and you caught it, blocking him. He took each blow he received with grace, knowing that you would feel guilty about it later. Matt tasted blood on his lips, and quickly wiped it away. He trapped you again, this time with you facing him. He felt your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, your chest heaving as you struggled against him. Your scent was thick with arousal and anxiety, merging into something all too intoxicating. After several attempts to break free, you were successful, sweeping his feet from beneath him for good measure after you escaped. Off you went again, but not for long.

2:16 AM

You threw the rocks from your pocket to make it seem like you were going in a different direction than you were. It had worked the first two times, but you were certain Matt had purposely made it appear that he fell for it. He wanted to drag this out. You felt a small, light impact on your face. Then another. Rain. It was raining now, gradually turning into a downpour. This could work to your advantage. The incessant pattering of the water as it beat against the containers, the ground, and the metal fence that surrounded the expensive machinery would hopefully be enough to distract Matt from finding you again too quickly. You picked up your pace, betting on that to help you hide.

2:20 AM

He had lost you; the weather had made sure of that. Your natural scent drowned out with the torrential rain that fell hard against the concrete. That was alright, he would find you again soon enough. The thrill of this chase- this hunt- was driving him insane. He wanted nothing more than to catch you. You had to be getting tired by now, all this running. All Matt had to do was focus and listen. He closed his eyes, carefully separating the sounds in his environment. He was searching for your pulse, hearing the metal being assaulted by the rain first and foremost. Matt set that aside, letting that distraction fall away. With each noise he did this, until there was nothing left but-

"There."

The leash on Matt’s self-control was fleeting, and he felt himself growing more feral. The longer this continued, the more difficult it would be to command it.

He would have to move more cautiously; you would be expecting him.

2:48 AM

"I can hear you heart thrashing in your chest, sweetheart. I will find you, and when I do, well, maybe I’ll have to tear it out, with my teeth."

You weren’t sure if you liked the sound of that. At this point you weren’t even sure if Matt was just playing with you or if he was taking his role too seriously. You knew he was close as he began to throw his fist against the boxes as he walked, in rhythm with your heart rate. A decision had to be made, and quickly. You chose the element of surprise, even though the chances of Matt not detecting you were very slim. In the shadows, you waited until he was in finally in sight…and you leapt.

He was harder to hang onto than you expected with the water that soaked through his clothes and skin. Matt flipped you off him, easier than he would a have been able to if you had both been dry. You rolled quickly, moving into a half kneeling position. Staying low would be your best option, it was louder closer to the ground. You saw that charming, arrogant smile spread across his face. Your leg struck out again, attempting to separate his feet from the ground. Matt avoided it easily, predicting your movements. He heard you breath out hard in frustration. He did not, however, expect the thing you did next. You threw yourself at his legs, dragging him down to the concrete. You got what you wanted; Matt tumbled to the ground. You rushed to untangle yourself from him, but he was faster. As soon as you found your feet, Matt’s hand had taken a hold of your leg, pulling you back down. You twisted to break his hold, kicking at his arms as he dragged you backwards. You swore you heard him growl as both hands reached for you this time, before you could even stand. You flailed in his grasp, trying so hard to escape. You could not let him win. You tried to pry his hands away with your own, but your left hand was slick with blood; the wound had reopened when he dragged you across the concrete. It felt like you blinked and suddenly he was on top of you, hovering above you with your hands pinned above your head, with only one of his. You wriggled beneath him, groaning in frustration.

Matt laughed, even as the feeling of you writhing and whimpering underneath him threatened to be his undoing. He felt the smartwatch you wore on your left wrist, counting down how much time was left and felt something else on the other. The leather band you had both chosen. Not a collar, but something similar. You had both agreed that if you were wearing it, consent was freely given- he didn’t need to ask. With his free hand, he unzipped the jacket you wore, placing his hand on your now bare throat. You froze, ceasing all movement entirely.

Your heart was pounding, mind racing. What was he doing? Was he trying to distract you? It was effective, but only for a moment. You managed to free your blood-soaked hand from his grip, clawing Matt across his face and jaw. You drew your feet up and onto is hips in the seconds that he recoiled, shoving upward with all your might. Matt flew backwards, unsurprised at the force you exerted. He knew just how strong your legs were. Now you weren’t holding back, and that would make your capture more rewarding. He recovered quickly, reaching out for your again, only to seize hold of the hoodie, now loose around your form. You twisted, wrapping the material around his hands, dancing out of the damp fabric. You did not hesitate, tearing down the path and disappearing once again into the dark.

2:56 AM

You felt like you had never run this much your life. You had not run this fast since that day. You shook your head- now was not the time. You shivered, wishing you had worn more layers. You had only put on a pair of leggings and a tight crop top over your binder to keep you colder, hoping you would sweat less. You had not prepared for rain. While the noise it created made it easier to avoid Matt for longer periods of time, it was severely unhelpful in terms of keeping you warm. You neared the edge of the shipyard, where the roar of the city was the loudest. You scaled the metal bars of the fence that kept the shipyard equipment safe, or at least the city thought it did. Having horizontal support bars every few feet enabled you the climb up and over quickly. The fence would only be an obstacle for Matt for a few minutes, but it was a few precious minutes that could give you an advantage.

3:05 AM

You waited for what felt like an hour. Even with the cacophony of sounds from Hell’s Kitchen bleeding over into the shipyard, it seemed too quiet. Twenty- five more minutes. That’s all it would take, and you would be victorious.

3:15 AM

The creature that lurked within Matt had been let out, and he had almost fully surrendered himself over to it. It would only be a matter of time before he had you between his teeth.

3:25 AM

Your head snapped up as you heard the clang of metal as Matt climbed the fence, sliding down the bars to the ground on the opposite side. The Devil was here, and he was coming for you.

3:28 AM

He could hear you, taste you- your scent was everywhere, driving him completely insane. Your eyes found him, and you ran. Matt was going to ensure that this was the last time he would have to chase you.

3:30 AM

Your watch went off, signifying that the time was up as you sprinted. You had already won by default, but you weren’t going to stop running, not until you made it to the other side of the fence. Then you would well and truly have escaped the devil. You needed this, you had to do this for yourself. Matt was coming closer, still pursuing you. He didn’t want to give up either then. Good. That would make all this running worth it, just to hear him admit defeat. You slid to a stop at the fence at the opposite side of the enclosure. You just had to bet on you being able to climb faster than Matt. You started to ascend, only to be wrenched back down by him. He pinned you against the bars with his body. You let out a soft laugh, breathing hard.

“I win.” You panted, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, we’re so far past that sweetheart.”

Matt grabbed you, spinning you around to face him.

“What are you even-” your words were cut short as Matt captured both your wrists against, bracing them above your head.

The Devil decided your throat was too far out of his reach. You gasped as you felt Matt’s hand reach through to the bar between your legs and lift you upwards with his arm. You were now eye level with him, the lights from the city painting the planes of his face in various colors. The hue that stuck out the most was the smear of your blood across his face. Matt moved his arm against your center, a small noise escaping you.

Matt only laughed, bringing his mouth to your throat, kissing more gently than you had anticipated. He reveled in the feeling of your heart racing beneath his lips as he moved to the side of your neck, biting down. The sound you made was borderline sinful, and exactly was he wanted. Your legs lifted instinctively, wrapping around Matt’s body, your hips shifting against his arm, craving friction.

“You’re so desperate already, is this is all it takes?” Matt grinned wickedly against your skin, biting down even harder. You screamed, unable to contain it. The sound was going to push him to insanity. Your skin was burning, his touch only stoking the flames. Matt pulled his arm from between you, releasing your arms as well. He didn’t need to restrain you anymore- you were all his. Your arms encircle him, holding onto him. Matt leans down, and your arms stay locked around him as he pushes your legs off his hips. His hand reaches upward, touching yours. Turning your hand over, he taps your palm, making sure you’re alright. He may not need to ask for consent, but he also knew that you sometimes went non-verbal if “you went too far down the rabbit hole” as you put it. He feels you nod against him and you tap back into his hand, already unable to form words.

The taps were code; I’m alright, I’m here, I’m safe.

He wasted no time, the beast ravenous and begging to be satiated. His hand wrapped around your throat, applying pressure in all the right places. Your hands reach back to touch him, one seeking purchase on his forearm, the other interlacing your fingers with his. Your soft inhale echoes in his ears as he reaches beneath your leggings, his fingers finding exactly what he thought. You were completely drenched, all for him. Your legs threatened to collapse beneath you as he finally, finally touched you. Matts fingers made small, tight circles that were achingly slow. After a few minutes, he pressed harder, ever so slightly. A low whine greeted him, your knees yielding beneath you. Matt stops immediately, pulling his hand away from the apex of your thighs and your throat.

“Poor sweet thing, can’t even stand on your own, can you? Reach up and hold the bars.”

You did as you were told, completely at his mercy. He brought his mouth back down on your pulse point, traveling downward with his lips and teeth, hands firmly gripping your hips ensuring that you didn’t move. Matt was eventually on his knees, pulling off your boots and tossing them aside. His hands moved back up your legs as he rose, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your pants, dragging them down and leaving the lower half of you bare.

Matt runs his hands down your arms, over your tattoos. One hand takes its place back around your throat, the other sliding down further. A temperate moan slips from you, and he hasn’t even touched you again yet. Your desperation urges him on, two fingers diving between you and sliding in with ease.

“Mine.” Matt growls, claiming your mouth as he curves his fingers upward, thumb resuming the precise circles he knew drove you mad.

You groan against his mouth, lost entirely. You didn’t care that you were technically in public. You didn’t care that it was raining. You weren’t cold anymore, and you could swear you saw steam rolling off Matt’s shoulders. He released your throat, his hand traveling to your thigh, digging in so hard it would leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. You felt the heat coiling within you, the flames traveling up your legs. Your breathing became more erratic under Matt’s mouth, quiet moans signifying that you were at the precipice.

“Cum for me.” He whispered, his tongue sweeping across your lower lip before entering your mouth to swallow every delicious noise you would give him.

You needed little instruction after that. Your back arched away from the fence, and you came apart around Matt’s fingers. Your rocked against him as his fingers steadied, slipping out of you and moving up to replace his thumb. One of your hands came down to rest on the back of his neck, trying to get his attention. You were so sensitive, still shaking from the aftershock; it was too much.

“Did I say you could let go of the bar?” he snapped, moving his fingers even faster.

You reluctantly put your hand back, legs shaking from the overstimulation. You could hardly breathe as you felt yourself rushing toward the edge again.

“Are you going to cum for me again? Already? Such a whore for me.”

Tears stung your eyes, your moans fringing on sobs as you felt yourself falling to pieces once again. You screamed, helpless against Matt’s continued touch.

“Go right ahead and scream, no one is going to hear you. And if they do, I will hear them before they get anywhere near us.”

Matt tasted salt against your mouth; you were crying. Matt groaned against you, pulling his hands away from you. He could imagine how you looked, soaking wet in more ways than one, hands above your head, flushed, tear streaks down your face, and ruined. Your chest heaved, releasing the bar once again to give your arms a break. He knew you were tired, but he wasn’t quite through with you yet.

“Oh, sweetheart we’re not done. You have one minute to put your arms back up.”

You counted the seconds, wishing they would go by faster. You ached for him, and you knew he knew it. Matt’s lascivious smile returned as he heard your hands return to the fence. He freed himself from his pants, not bothering to take them off. Matt reached down, placing his hands behind your thighs and lifting you, lining himself up. He pulled you down onto his length, burying himself in you. He loved hearing the little gasp you always made when he entered you. Matthew set a relentless pace, vicious and unyielding. Your head rested against the metal bars, the symphony of pleasure spilling from you echoed through his body. He gripped your hips so tightly, the bruises he would leave would match the ones on your thighs. He snapped his hips upward, hard, being given a sharp whine in response. One hand cracked across the outside of your thigh, gripping it harshly afterwards.

“Mine.” He repeated, kissing the base of your throat. Your pulse was wild, and he took pride in the fact that he was the cause.

“Yours.” You had managed to reply, the word barely coming out.

He felt himself growing closer, but he needed something.

“Put your hands on me, now.”

Your hands came away from the metal of the fence, wrapping around his back. Your nails dug into his skin, even through the fabric. Between that, the whispery, almost breath like noises you were making, and the way you felt wrapped around him? It was enough. You cried out louder as he went harder, deeper, chasing his end.

“Look at me.” He demanded, voice low and graveled.

You obeyed, gazing down at the Devil, who loved you so much and fucked you like he loathed you. You never knew how he would know if you looked at him or not, but he always did. Your stare his undoing. Matt let out a hushed, choked noise-the same noise he made right as he was about to come apart.

“Please.” You begged, needing him to claim you in every definition of the word.

Matthew came undone, moaning against your neck. Your body was trembling, trapped between Matt and the bars. He was breathing hard against you, cock still twitching as he slid out, dripping with you. The fog lifted from his brain, and he was just Matthew again.

“Can you stand if I put you down?” he murmured against your skin. He felt you nod against his shoulder and he placed you gently on your feet, not releasing his hold on you until he was sure you could keep yourself up. You were a bit unsteady, but ultimately stayed upright. Matt tore off his mask, shoving it into his pocket and righting himself. His hands were on you immediately, their movements careful and soft. Matt caressed your face, listening to your heart rate decrease and stabilize.

“Sweetheart are you okay?” he whispered, brushing the wet strands of hair from your eyes. The rain had stopped at some point but had gone unnoticed. You were shivering, no longer warmed by the shared body heat.

You nodded, tapping into his palm. You still couldn’t speak; coming back down to earth took you longer than it did him.

Matt gathered your clothes and boots, helping you put them back on. He hated that they were wet and would make you colder, but he resigned himself to carrying you all the way back to the apartment as a compromise.

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.”

You looked up from you spot on his couch, a warm mug of chai tea in your hands. Matt had immediately stripped you upon your return to his place, shoving a pair of sweats and a fresh, warm hoodie into your hands. While you changed, he made your tea to warm you, two spoons of sugar and a splash of cream, exactly how you liked it. You had settled on the couch, wrapped in one of Matt’s soft blankets. Matt had changed out of his clothes as well, a pair of black sweatpants low on his hips.

“For what?”

He cocked his head, confused.

“I…took advantage. I don’t know what came over me. It’s like I couldn’t stop myself.”

You shook your head.

“You did nothing of the sort. See this? Well, you can’t see it, but you know what I mean.” You reassured him, offering him the wrist that the red and black leather strap was wrapped around.

“You and I both know what this means. I hardly ever take it off because I trust you, completely. Honestly I’m blushing because you want me that much.”

Matt made his way to the couch, snuggling in behind you so he could play with your hair for a change. You hummed in satisfaction as his fingers tracked through your loose curls. You took a sip of your tea, sighing with contentment.

“Primal play. It’s called primal play.”

“What is?”

“What happened tonight, you have a primal kink Matt. Truthfully, I’m not shocked by that. That’s why I wore the bracelet, in case that happened.”

Now Matthew felt a flush spread across his face.

“That’s a thing?” he asked, some clarity gained from it simply having a name.

“That is in fact, a thing counselor.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You smiled, turning your head to touch your lips to his.

“I ask myself the same thing about you all the time, Matthew.”

Matt brought his mouth to your temple, placing a kiss there. You loved moments like this, pieces of intimacy that were more than just physical. You moved again to kiss him, savoring the taste of him against your mouth.

Matt felt you smile, and then let out a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

You smirked, the corner of your mouth lifting as you whispered.

“I still won.”

[queerofthedagger]

So while one could definitely say that I might be biased when it comes to @atlantablack's writing because she's one of my best friends, let me start this by saying that 1) yes, but I'm also right, and 2) I loved her writing before we ever talked to each other; there's proof in the form of a horribly awkward comment on a fic that wasn't even for the Merlin fandom. Anyway, they're one of the most talented writers across all of their fandoms, and so I thought a list of my personal faves from their Merlin fics was in order - and what better time to post that than on her birthday?

It was honestly almost impossible to pick, but I've gone with a bit of variety so here's six fics - two Merthur, two Morgwen, and two Gen - that live rent free in my brain at any given time.

To Atlanta: I love you (to the moon and to saturn) and I'm so glad that I can call you my friend. Your writing is an absolute gift to this world, and I hope you never stop having marvellous ideas, and causing me great emotional harm with them. Happiest of Birthdays! <3

-

this raging sea, these summer storms

[Merlin/Arthur, G, 4,2k]

Summary:

“I have magic,” he whispers, turning to face Arthur. “I have magic, and I use it for you. Always for you.” He keeps his chin tilted up, his spine straight, and a storm stares back. Arthur’s eyes as dark and wild as the sea.

Why I rec this: Okay so this fic was a gift for me, but that only makes it even more perfect than it already is on its own. I absolutely adore magic reveals where Merlin gets to be unapologetic, and where Arthur gets to have some time to think things through and be (mostly) reasonable about it, and this fic is just so careful and gentle about it without making it unrealistic. The entire mood of the fic is like rain after a hot summer day, and every time I re-read it, it reminds me of why I love those idiots so much. <3

Quotes:

He’s not sure he could pinpoint when that look changed: when they’d stopped looking through each other and started looking at each other instead. He’s not sure when he started silently collecting the pieces of Merlin’s secret as if they were a treasure to be hidden carefully beneath his ribs until the time was right.

---

this graveyard of forgotten love

[Morgana/Gwen, M, 11,8k]

Summary:

Gwen has never fully managed to shake her love for the lady who had once sworn to keep her safe. Now locked in a tower by that same lady, she must face a truth she's long kept buried (even from herself).

An exploration of grief, anger, and the inability to let go of someone you once loved (even when you should).

Why I rec this: So, funny story - Atlanta is the one who dragged me kicking and screaming into the post-season 2 Morgwen brainrot, and this fic is a study in all the reasons of why she was successful. There are no excuses made or actions played down, Gwen gets to have agency and be furious and bitter and grieving (also as a side-note, Atlanta writes the best Gwen in this fandom. Seriously, all her Gwen-centric fics are an absolute blessing), and the way this fic ties all the people who are important to Gwen together and gives them their due weight is so, so perfect. It is fairly heavy (mind the tags), but it's 100% worth the angst, and the ending is definitely hopeful.

Quote:

Morgana snarls, moving forward until her face is so close to Gwen’s that she can feel the heat coming from her. The irony of the position, of Morgana mirroring the specter’s actions, does not escape her. (The heat of Morgana’s body straining towards her does not escape her.)  “What would you have done?” Morgana asks again, low and furious, eyes boring into Gwen’s.  Gwen swallows roughly, leaning back as far as she can. “I would have left you there,” she spits, the lie slipping out of her, bitter and furious. “I would have done nothing at all.” 

---

the weight of one man's grief

[Lancelot & Merlin, G, MCD, 2,5k]

Summary:

He arrives too late to stop Arthur from doing what he’s always said he was willing to do, but arrives just in time to catch the last glimpse of golden hair disappearing into the veil and it feels for a moment as if the world has stopped existing. The entirety of his existence narrowed down to nothing but the veil slowly slipping closed and the after image of sunlight licking at golden hair. Feels as if there is nothing but his own thundering pulse and the earth beneath his feet screaming, screaming, screaming. Or perhaps that is his own voice being torn from his throat, the sound of his own magic ripping through the trees, racing toward the veil that is nearly closed. They would not take him. They would not. They do.

Why I rec this: If you want to cry, this is your fic. It's no secret that I love angst (and dealing each other massive emotional damage is the bedrock of Atlanta's and my friendship) but huh boy, this fic really takes it to another level in just about 2,5k words. I think if Arthur had actually walked through the veil, this is about what would have happened, and as usual, Atlanta's exploration and description of grief is the most flawless thing I've ever read. It's ugly, it's violent, and it hurts, and then there's a little special something that twists the knife when you're already bleeding out. It's one of my alltime Merlin-faves, and I don't think I'll ever get over it.

Quote:

The ground creaks and Merlin stares at Lancelot, the never-ending sky in his eyes, and he wants to laugh. Wants to laugh and laugh until his heart gives up from the force of his grief, his relief, that same question, repeating on a loop. If Arthur is the hero (dead and gone and irrelevant except for all the ways in which he is not), and Merlin the unbeatable, raging storm (one word away from wiping this city from the map), then what does that make Lancelot? What does that make him in this story?

---

a god at an altar, a beggar full of faith

[Merlin/Arthur, M, 4,9k]

Summary:

For every person that sinks magic beneath Arthur's skin like an offering, another tries to murder him, always furious when the magic harmlessly bounces off, Arthur held safe by the sacrifices of those who have died for him.  He wonders if they knew that he was aware of what they were doing. He spends a lot of time wondering why they would protect him. His father has them murdered and still more come, always in disguise, sometimes only brushing past him in the marketplace, a finger to his wrist, a hand to his back, the sweet rush of protection burrowing beneath his skin and promising safety.  He wonders how long it is until they decide to stop protecting the son of their butcher?

Why I rec this: Atlanta's prose in general is on its own level, but this fic? Oh my god this fic; it has such a specific vibe between Merlin and Arthur that I love to pieces, and that doesn't even start on how utterly perfect Arthur is in this. The premise is so, so good, and explores so well what would have happened if Arthur had reason to move away from Uther's influence much earlier. As if that wasn't already amazing on its own, I also love the relationship between Arthur & Morgana in this, and the way Uther gets his due. But also, the tension between Arthur and Merlin, man; Atlanta said 'Arthur has a competency kink rights' and then they fucking delivered.

Quote:

He hums, digs his fingers into Merlin’s waist. “Can’t see a damn thing but your magic,” he says and it’s so freeing, finally getting to admit this, to admit what he can do, that he laughs. “Haven’t been able to see a damn thing but your magic since the day you showed up, sweetheart.”

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forging a path

[Morgana/Gwen, G, 3k]

Summary:

“You took my will from me,” She slowly swipes her thumb across Morgana’s cheek. “So now I will take what you love from you.”  “I do not love anything,” Morgana spits, trying to pull her face from Gwen’s grasp and snarling when Gwen only tightens her grip.  “You love your magic,” she whispers gently. - The White Goddess may have released Gwen from Morgana's hold, but it does well to remember that even the kindest of deities are fickle creatures.

Why I rec this: So, Gwen with magic has - also thanks to Atlanta - a special place in my heart. A vindictive, unforgiving Gwen does, too, but what I love most about this fic is the relationship between Merlin & Gwen; it's not a huge part, but in a way, that makes it even better, the absolute naturalness with which it takes place. That aside, though, the entire premise is just utterly brilliant, and pulling it off satisfyingly in 3k words is like a masterclass in writing. Again.

Quote:

“If you missed me so much, Morgana, all you had to do was come home.” Gwen continues walking forward until Arthur grabs her arm, preventing her from going any farther. Her eyes never leave Morgana’s, and there is something bright and furious sparking to life in her veins, begging to be let free.  “Camelot was never my home,” Morgana spits, lip curling in disgust.  “And I was not referring to Camelot,” she counters lowly, viciously pleased when Morgana’s nose flares wide, eyes lighting up with a shocked understanding.

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from blood and bone (to earth and sea)

[Arthur & Morgana, G, 2k]

Summary:

Every time Morgana believes she’s rid herself of affection for Gwen and Arthur, that same traitorous part of her heart roars back to life, threatening to strangle her with guilt.  She was done with feeling guilty, this is what she had told herself, and yet Arthur is screaming at his father as if he would give the kingdom up now all for one serving girl. That is to say nothing of the look on Gwen’s face when she’d met Morgana’s eyes. The betrayal shining in her eyes had cut deeper than any knife ever could.  She had said she was done with this. The throne was hers, Uther corrupt, and she could not trust Arthur with it. She could not but— . . . “You won’t kill her,” she says calmly, voice ringing through the room. “You won’t banish her either.” 

Why I rec this: So first of all, I'm cheating a bit because this is the first fic in a series, and you should definitely read the following three stories in it as well. The way Atlanta writes Morgana and Arthur is phenomenal, as are Morgana's relationships with Gwen and Merlin. It digs a lot into the betrayal that came with this episode, the one from the poisoning incident, and a lot of the grief and broken pieces between all of them that have been building for a while now. Not to mention that, once again, the writing is utterly mind-blowing, I don't know how she keeps doing that. This can technically be read as a standalone, but why would you?

Quote:

He meets her eyes evenly, sword still held between them, blue eyes clear and vast as the sea. They’ve always been polar opposites, the sea and the earth, always fighting for purchase as to who gets a claim of the land they both inhabit.  She takes the sword. 

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Enjoy reading! And if you want to check out more of her brilliant works, here's their AO3 profile! ❤️