#I may have gone a bit overboard with the blood but I wanted to add it to know that GUSTAVO’S BEATING ���� HIM 👏 UP 👏

[whereismyhat5678]

Heck yeah! Kick his butt Gustavo!

Let’s recap! For those who don’t know go to this post: here

TW: There’s blood underneath so look with caution!! ⚠️⚠️

I loved doing the expressions AND THE POSE FUCK YEAH GUSTAVO KICK SOME TWINK ASS‼️‼️💥👊💥👊💥👊💥

[pickedoverbytheworms]

k, 29, any prns are fine. cisfem. weird sexuality most of the time but let's say bi for brevity's sake.

bratty cat with a heart of gold and in desperate need of someone to fuck the overthinking brains out of me at all times. ≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼

⤷ minors and those who'd like to point and go "ew i don't get that" are unwelcome. i will do my best to add content warnings but will have hard kink content on this blog regardless so if that makes you uncomfortable this may not be the best place for you.

⤷ the things i will rb may contain: blood, dad kink, rope play, impact play, bruises, some age regression concepts though never full agere and honestly probably more idk.

⤷ pet names and nicknames are fine. flirting is fine. insinuation is fine. heavier content as long as its not within the parameters of my hard no's is fine. i'll let you know if you've gone overboard.

⤷ hard no's aka things that will definitely get you blocked: scat, overt misogyny, underage, anything relating to animals, super over the top daddy domming tbh dad kink aside just daddy domming in general i dont want you, pictures of your body/bits i am not interested save them for someone who is. just be respectful or i'll block it's pretty simple.

⤷ this is a side blog. if i follow you with my main you will know who i am, promise lol bdsm test results under the cut. dm's closed, not interested but you are welcome to send inboxes even on anon bc i do like to chat. just need a safer place to explore.

[bigmeandragonlady]

you get my thoughts right away this time! :) kick it off with what you can get if you win no fights at all, and i had to try to strike a balance between nicer then street clothes but not too nice. not many accessories, if any.

The pale-green short dress:

the green dress is... a dress i have in my closet in a different color. (you'll probably notice the shading is much more simple, i was planning to do that with everything b/c it takes way less time but uhh i got carried away immediately)

The dark purple vest and white blouse with ruffled sleeves:

i may have gone overboard with the ruffles but i don't regret anything.

The dark red tunic and trim trousers:

i feel like the red tunic was mean to be more... fancy? formal? i wanted to lean into the cleaned up fighter aspect with bronze and leather. didn't draw the pants b/c leave me alone.

The black military coat with a blood-red pocket square:

I know it's just supposed to be a pocket square but i wanted more red, i almost gave it red gloves too. red and gold, pressed corners

The long, white, flowing gown with a plunging neckline and a slit up the leg:

I really wanted this to have long sleeves for some reason. I think it has to do with it being described as cold on the way into Heth Macoll? anyway- Red gems, white/silver jewlery

The gold, stately robe with wide, trailing, elegant sleeves:

I ended up changing this last minute, the first version will be below, if i do anymore robes i want to explore versions that arent this so i went with it this time. Gold cuffs with red accents. also, turns out i like painting gold.... i got so into the zone, i had painted the whole sash before i realized i was on my sketch layer. which is why the lines are so dark on this guy.

The gorgeous ballroom dress in silvery-blue and off-the-shoulder sleeves, with pink blossoms at the bodice:

The skirt was inspired by the 2015 cinderella dress, not as big obv, but sparkly and voluminous. Neckline gave me a bit of trouble but im a sucker for a nice sweetheart. The petals extend onto some of the bottom hemline- like they're falling and gathering there- i would also add some more actual flowers along the waistline. Silver jewellery, maybe some more little pink flowers/petals.

The sharp and fashionable dark blue suit with elegant embellishments along the trim:

i'm still surprised this guy is here and i didn't bin the whole thing- the amount of time it took for me to get this right? embarrassing. Any accessories are silver

The flowing summer vestments in pale sage and yellow with blooming roses along the hem:

the nice thing about vestments is that they're simple shapes and don't adhere to the body. the bad thing about vestments is that they're pretty much rectangles and thus boring to for me to paint. they rely really heavily on patterns and layering to be more then blank cloth, I'm not great at these things. And I doubt I'll do more vestments in the future.

anyway, i really drew a blank of what to put on the yellow panel but a beautifully embroidered pattern is what i would put there if i was better at patterns. 'sage' is a fun prompt b/c there is a color called sage but there is also the sage herb: kind of frosty in the light with varying shades of green, looks soft.

The cloudy pink imperial robes with a lovely flowing train:

'how many times did you redraw the top?' shut up q.q

i ended up not wanting something too heavy, even if 'imperial' indicates royalty and heavy fabrics. instead i interpreted cloud as part of the design with a light gradient, soft edges, and a gauze-like shawl/coat that probably has a cloudscape embroidered on it. light and delicate accessories.

other versions:

there are actually 4 versions of that green dress! the neon green one was my initial idea, and despite the other options i can't get it out of my head. my favorite thing to do with it is imagine the mc fighting jarkarth in it :)

thought that version of the military jacket was too 'fashiony' when there are all these other options. between this and the other white gown i cut out the faux sleeves completely, they're not what i wanted in a cold, dusty environment.

now i do like this version of the elrond robe but it was a direct rip of a robe from lord of the rings b/c im still new to robes. if i do any robes with the lockwood set they will probably be in this style.

I'll take a look at the outfitter's selection.

(my interpretation of the clothes you can buy at Heth Macoll!)

[dilucsrevenge]

taming bratty sub childe plss

i may have gone overboard with this one... just a little bit...

nsfw content under the cut!  wc: 1,116 words

warnings before reading: light degradation (only mentioned once), knife & blood play and light choking

“You’ve hardly presented a challenge for me, comrade,” Childe spoke with an evil smirk formed on his bloodstained lips, “if I had known you were going to be this easy today, I would’ve turned you away at the doors.”

Childe had you pinned against the wall of the Golden House, the place the two of you met weekly to battle and train with each other. There was something different about your training today, Childe was being more aggressive than usual. He was constantly pushing your buttons, saying just the right things in the right tone to get under your skin and in your head in seconds and it was working. You were missing your attacks and not dodging his own. And that is how you got into the position you were in just now: your back pressed against the wall, Childe’s knee pressed firmly between your thighs and the blade of his arrow underneath your chin.

“Watch your words, Childe. You antagonize me too much and it’s time you learn the consequences of doubting me.” You fired back at him quickly, freeing your arm from Childe’s loosened grip to grip the base of the arrow and pull it down from your chin. 

Your movement surprised Childe, which gave you the opening to grip onto his hip and change the positions you were in. You now had him pinned against the wall, your sword pressing against his throat and your knee pressed between his thighs. As he swallowed, you trailed the tip of your sword down his throat, a thin red line raising against his skin. You could feel his breath shake, but that didn’t make his ego falter. He still kept the look on his face that proved he thought he still was in control.

The smirk on Childe’s lips just grew, but this one carried a sense of pride and arrogance that angered you more than any of his actions during your training. You lifted your knee towards his groin, you had no worries of crossing boundaries with Childe. The two of you had more than a friendly relationship, always sharing more flirtatious glances and remarks to each other during your training. You figured it was the heat of the battle, but this assumption just made you want to win against him even more. You hated that he could still be so snarky while you held your knife to his throat.

“Looks like you’ve learned to notice when an opponent reveals a weak spot, maybe soon you will be a worthy opponent,” Childe spoke with just the slightest shake in his voice, his gaze shifting from your own to your knee that was keeping him from moving.

His words made you drop your sword to the ground, your hand finding its place tightly on his throat. For just a few seconds, he couldn’t meet your eyes until enough time had passed where you were certain he regained his composure after your bold move of wrapping your hand around his throat.

“Oh, Childe. You have underestimated me once again,” you shook your head as you spoke. A soft hum breaking up your speech as your fingers trailed along Childe’s jaw, “it’s about time that you learn your place.”

You dug your nail slightly into a spot below Childe’s jaw where your finger had stopped, kneeling down just enough to pick up your sword off the ground and trace the tip of it against the crescent-shaped indent on Childe’s skin. A small amount of blood was drawn, just enough to satisfy your craving to see the man you had pinned against the wall bleed just a little bit more. The look on his face had softened, a soft groan spilling past his lips from the pressure of your blade against his skin.

“My place is on the battlefield overtaking my enemies, and you know this.” Childe wouldn’t give in, he wouldn’t break this easily for you. He had fantasized many times about getting this close with you, but he wouldn’t give up that easily. “Is this what this is about, isn’t it? You’re trying to make up for your weakness in battle by taking me by surprise and insulting me?”

“If I wanted to insult you, I’d tell you that I know you’re a filthy whore because I can feel how hard you are against my knee while I’ve barely even touched you.” Your breath fanned out against Childe’s neck, smearing the blood on his skin further down his neck and against your lips.

Childe’s facade broke as soon as you spoke, his features softened within seconds of you speaking and feeling your lips on his skin. You pointing out him being hard got him to push his hips forward towards you, a desperate moan falling from his lips as he ground down against your thigh. “You know… ah… I never expected this out of you.” His voice shook while he spoke, almost breaking when you pushed your knee up to allow him to add pressure to the grinding of his hips against your thigh.

He was still holding onto any control he had, which just encouraged you to move your thigh away from him, earning a gentle whine from Childe. “I told you to stop underestimating me, Childe. When will you learn to listen?”

Your hand ran down his chest, fingers toying with the waistband of his pants, pushing your fingers under his shirt to run your cool fingers against his warm skin. He shivered underneath you, his shoulders lowering as you slowly broke his defenses with your words. You grazed your hand against his covered erection, humming softly at the shocked look on his face.

“Are you going to listen to me now, Childe?” You spoke out again, removing your hand from him when he let out a moan from the pressure of your hand.

Instead of speaking, Childe just nodded his head quickly, pushing his hips towards you in a desperate attempt to get more of your touch. You noticed the desperate look in his eyes almost instantly and knew you had broken him. It had been quick today, but you knew this was a build-up of the past few months of training and lightly flirting with him.

“Yeah… yes… yes. I’ll listen, I promise.” Childe whispered out his words, his gaze dropping from you. As soon as you lift your knee back up towards him, Childe perked up and picked up the hint to start grinding down against your thigh again, moaning out your name softly under his breath. You knew now that you’d never be able to forget the sound of Childe moaning out your name for the rest of your life.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (April 7/2021) - Banquet Invitations

The Eggpire is busy with preparations for the coming feast. After discussing with the Egg, Antfrost and Bad have decided that it would be best for the Egg’s reputation to clean up the Blood Vines over the server.

They go around, offering invitations to a few important guests...

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Nihachu

Foolish

Philza

Wilbur

Ranboo

Badboyhalo

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk continues to work on his project, and plays an audio sneak peek of his upcoming story:

“Who is Ponk? A question that holds many answers, none quite right, yet all showing a glimpse into a grander truth.

To sum: he is a traitor. Corrupted by a lust for power, and the burden of uncountable betrayals. To others, he is a life-giver and trusted ally. In many ways, he is all these things, within the ever-shifting alliances and world-changing events that occur within the SMP. Ponk is always there in the forefront, influential in ways both obvious and subtle. 

But before all this, before the reign of the Egg, or the massacre at Manberg, he stood as one of the founding seven. These tales I will share with you today are those of the bygone times...before two Lemon Trees burned away his heart. Before his once-friend took his arm. A time even before he wore a mask.

Now gather close, and listen to these old man’s words, and let us delve deep into the legends that have brought us to where we are today...”

- “Tip Tup” visits the Arctic to see Phil and finds out that Avondeten has died. He is heartbroken. Top Ten Tip Tup Trauma Moments.

- Tip Tup and Phil hold a funeral for Avondeten. Tip Tup hired Fundy to give a funeral speech in Dutch

- After the solemn speech, Tip Tup chows down on Avondeten. Rest in peace. 

- Tip Tup and Phil get a rabbit and talk to Ranboo.

- Tip Tup is an endocrinologist.

- Tubbo arrives. That’s a Top Ten Tip Tup Tubbo Moment.

- Tip Tup blips out of existence. He is no longer in tip top Tip Tup shape.

- Tubbo is in a hole. They attempt to get him out with no luck.

- Tubbo makes noises. 

- They push Tubbo out of the hole with water and Tubbo gets into a boat with Ranboo and spins around. Tubboat.

- They find a baby slime. Tubbo names it Squishy Fuck.

- Phil, Ranboo and Tubbo hang out in the Arctic. Tubbo tells Phil about his Soviet radiation horror dreams.

- Bad makes plans to give out invitations to people for the Red Banquet. 

- As they prepare for the feast, Bad and the Eggpire have been trying to clean up the server. The Egg has a poor reputation. They discussed it with the Egg and decided that they were coming across too intense, so they have been making peace and cleaning up some of the Blood Vines as a sign of good faith. The Egg has given them permission.

- He demonstrates this by removing a vine.

- Antfrost comes over. They notice that Foolish and Sam are online.

- They remove the Blood Vine off of the flower shop. The Egg approves.

- They head down to the spider spawner and the Egg Room. Bad explains that they may have been been a little too hard on people. 

- Antfrost shows him the Red Banquet decorations. Bad says they may have to clean up a bit in the Egg Room.

- At the end of the Red Banquet, everyone will come away loving the Egg. Everyone will be happy. 

- The Egg doesn’t mind that it was covered in a colorful shell. It’s like putting on new shoes. 

- The banquet is going to be “mind-changing!” So much fun! They head back up to find Sam, thinking he might be at the prison.

- They go over to the prison. The Egg just wants to get along with everybody. The Egg doesn’t hate; it appreciates.

- They meet Sam at the prison entrance and say hello. Sam is holding a clock. Bad and Ant invite him to the banquet. It’ll be fun -- they’ll chill, they’ll party, maybe have some bacon. They tell Sam the party will be held underground near the Egg.

- Sam is skeptical, but Bad says that the Egg wants to say sorry and make things right. Sam starts to come around to it. 

- They hand him a block of redstone as a temporary invite. They don’t have proper physical invites at the moment, but Sam says he’s down to go to the banquet. 

It’s a “burying the hatchet” type deal. Sam thinks he would like that.

- He hands the two of them several books and quills, explaining that he confiscated them from Dream and they can have them.

- They’ll bury the hatchet in the ground and turn over a new leaf.

- A baby zombie on a chicken runs over. Sam swiftly kills it.

Sam: “There, now no one had time to get attached.”

- Sam says he has a lot of work to do, and he’ll see them soon.

- Next, Bad and Ant decide to reach out to Foolish. They meet with him at Snowchester.

- They’re there on the Egg’s behalf, and would like to extend to Foolish a heartfelt apology for stepping overboard, and they’re there to bury the hatchet, say sorry and give him an invitation to a party.

- Foolish points out that they celebrated Tommy dying in his hotel room. Bad and Ant want to let bygones be bygones and apologize for going too far. The Egg has recognized that it has done wrong.

- Foolish says that while he doesn’t quite accept their apology yet, but he’ll give them one final chance. Bad says they just want to turn over a new egg.

- Foolish says that if anything happens, he will not hesitate to split the Egg open with a lightning bolt. Bad assures him that there will be no surprises, just dancing, partying and food. It’ll be a fun feast.

They give him a temporary invitation.

- Bad and Ant leave. Bad accidentally calls Antfrost “Skeppy” in a slip of the tongue and then explains that he was just thinking about Skeppy, whether to invite him too.

- They wonder if Puffy is available.

- They clear out some more Blood Vines. There’s just been a misunderstanding, and everyone’s making the Egg to be some kind of monster when really, the Egg just wants what’s best for the server. 

- Puffy logs on and they speak with her at her house, inviting her to the banquet too. They say it’ll take place down by the Egg. They explain to her that they just want to make amends and bury the hatchet.

- Puffy says she’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. Bad hands her a temporary invite.

- The food will be to die for! Not literally, though, of course...

- Puffy says she’ll be there. They’ll talk to her later.

- They leave. Bad is excited for the banquet. 

“I promise that everybody who shows up...is not going to be the same when they leave."

(The lore section of the stream is over)

- Bad and Antfrost play around with Drista’s staircase and notice all the pranks on Bad’s mansion

- Fundy logs on and goes AFK on the Prime Path. Bad and Ant get the idea to prank him by pushing him towards the museum. They dig a hole down to bedrock and push him in, then fill in the hole and return to the surface, leaving him down there.

- Fundy appears on the surface while they’re not looking, appearing to still be AFK, and the two are perplexed. They do it a second time.

- They get suspicious and start digging down as they notice Fundy’s nametag isn’t showing. They reach the bedrock and Fundy is nowhere to be seen. They return to the surface only to find Fundy has reappeared there again.

- They dig a new shallow hole and put Fundy in it, only for Fundy to move again while they’re not looking.

- Ranboo logs on and comes over and covers the hole with grass. Out of sight, out of mind.

- Bad boxes Fundy in with blocks with signs on them so that if Fundy breaks the blocks, they’ll be able to tell.

- They check a couple times, but it seems to have worked, and Fundy moves no longer. They decide it must be lag.

- Bad goes to watch the Sad-ist animation but then Fundy reappears on the surface while they’re not looking again, and all of the blocks and signs seem to be intact.

- They put Fundy in the hole again and Bad adds more signs.

- Bad reacts to the Sad-ist animatic with the video playing in the corner of the screen so that he doesn’t look away from Fundy.

- The first time, the volume on the video is too loud, so Bad tabs out to set it up again. Antfrost was supposed to watch Fundy, but when Bad tabs back in Fundy has appeared right in front of him. 

- Bad boxes Fundy in again with diorite and stands on top of it so that he’d hear if Fundy broke any blocks and reacts to the animatic a second time.

- Though blocks can be heard breaking during Bad’s second watch, when Bad tabs back in to check on Fundy, Fundy is still there. Antfrost left, though.

- Bad opens the box. Was that torch always there?

- He covers the box back up and goes to end stream, satisfied. But before he does, he checks one more time. The torch is gone.

- The next time he looks, there are two torches.

- Bad stands on top and breaks the roof. Fundy’s head has turned to stare straight at him, unmoving.

- Bad repeatedly places and breaks the block. Fundy’s head moves to look at him whenever the block is broken.

- Bad breaks the block one final time. Fundy turns his head slowly to look at Bad for a moment before logging off and disappearing.

- Bad runs away to end stream.

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[themadauthorshatter]

It's been a while since I did one of these, and I'll be expanding over more of the series.

Here's Part 4 of headcanons I have for Never!Tedros!!

Even when she becomes the coven's new leader, Tedros still hates her guts and it definitely has to do with her treatment of Agatha and letting Dot get kicked out.

In retaliation, he asks Agatha to take her in, which she does, and explains what happened to Dovey, who allows Dot to stay, much to the annoyance of the Evil teachers and a lot of the Nevers, even Sophie.

They have they're confrontation at lunch and Sophie shouts at him that Agatha tricked him, too, lest he forget. He already knows this, but walks away anyway to be with Agatha.

They have some angsty-fluff moments with Tedros asking if she's afraid of him, which she claims she isn't because, no offense to him, he's all bark and no bite with her. He admits to knowing she'd tried using him, but also admits he's glad she gave up on that because it wouldn't have been a good thing if he'd figured it out and she lied to him.

During the bridge encounter, Sophie claims Agatha is the Evil one, and that Agatha is the witch, not her, even going as far as to say she and Tedros are the good ones and deserve an Even After together.

"At least I know I'm evil, you stupid girl."

I should mention Tedros takes a turn for the dark when he is confronted by Ravan, Vex, and other Never boys and dragged into a bathroom, so they can beat the crap out of him for all the stuff he's pulled.

Having been in Good for about a month, he's immediately overwhelmed by all the evils surrounding the students, even a few of Sophie's, which reveal her attacks and intentions for the schools.

Ravan goes to get a hit in with a weapon of some kind, but Tedros grabs it and stands up, angrier than ever before.

Anadil is unfortunate enough to see Tedros leave the boy's room with some blood on his face, but uninjured. He glares at her and walks away without talking.

She finds all the boys unconscious with scratches and slashes on their faces and bodies. The weapon Ravan had is now broken, having been used against them to the extreme.

Come the circus of talents, when Agatha comes in pretty as a picture, Tedros warns her not the stop him, and thanks her for being nice to him.

She sees why when she and a witchy Sophie go toe to toe.

Too bad Tedros attacks Sophie before they can start actually do anything.

I should mention that, as a sort of update on his talent, Tedros can USE these evils to his advantage and can force them into visibility, which is exactly what he does.

He shows all the students what they are on the inside, revealing the monsters he's scene since day 1 of arriving at school.

After a HUGE fight breaks out between Tedros, who is consumed and corrupted by the evils he's seen, letting them take over, and Sophie, who just gave up on being good like before.

Sophie attempts to kill Agatha, but she's caught by Tedros, who's grown shadow-esque wings and looks like some sort of demon dragon.

As he holds her, the two flying maybe eight feet off the ground, he admits he may have gone overboard and apologizes to her for almost dying.

He then reveals he knows about Sophie's plan to not only give the Nevers a ball, but also destroy all of Good and steal the Storian.

"What are you going to do?"

Tedros smiles. "Being a prince. I don't like Beatrix or a lot of other people in Good, but I like you all enough to know I don't want Sophie to end your stories."

"What do you mean? What're you-"

He sort of lands on the ground and lets Agatha stand, resting his forehead against hers. "Agatha, thank you for being in Good."

"You say that like I had a choice."

"No one ever said you had to be my friend, but you did, anyway."

He kisses her on the cheek and takes her to her dorm, which he locked from the outside, in the door, before taking off towards Evil, telling her to not stop him.

She gets to Evil by turning into a cheetah and, like before, tries to crash the No Ball to save everyone.

EVERYONE only believes her ehen Tedros arrives and attacks everyone, using the evils to his advantage.

When Sophie and Agatha are magiced away to Gavaldon, he only stands, emotionally empty as they vanish.

He's locked himself into his room and is sitting with his knees up and with his head resting against his knees.

Hates Aric.

Sleeps and stays in the Doom Room to avoid him, and the other boys because they won't shut up.

Does step up to be the leader of the boys, but does not order any kind of attack on the girls.

When the boys start getting rowdy, courtesy of one of the Everboys, said Everboy gets in Tedros's face when he confronts him. Aric backs up the Ever, and Tedros says nothing as he rams his fist into the Ever's stomach and swings an insanely hard punch into his jaw, which knocks him out instantly. The whole room is quiet as he basically demotes Aric as captain and gives the position to Chaddick; Aric is now responsible for disciplining anyone that steps out of line, which is nice enough, but he'd rather have the power to choose who gets the whip. With a low, "I want this entire castle spotless. You have the rest of the night and the weekend to do it," Tedros leaves, Chaddick following when Tedros asks him to very warmly, despite the scene that just unfolded.

When boys start refusing, Tedros hands them over to Aric, telling him that he can use any method he wants just as long as the boys are still alive.

No one refuses an order after an Ever and a Never leave boisterously shouting they're not afraid of a sewer rat like Aric and return quiet, pale, and injured from getting tortured.

Surprisingly, Tedros is the most collected with Tristan, almost returning to his Book 1 self, except more chatty. Tedros notes how Tristan smells a little different and that the redhead's been distant. Tristan denies it, spawning an evil for lying that Tedros sees.

He tells Tristan to keep his distance, and that he was one of the Everboys that was really nice to him; it's a small thing, but it means the world to him.

When Agatha and Sophie arrive, Tedros has locked himslef in his room. The boys are whipped into shape and don't really step out of line, all except Aric, but he tells the two strongest boys to keep Aric on a leesh if they have to.

Cue a lovely Tagatha reunion where the real Tedros comes back for a little bit.

She tells him about what the School for Girls are saying about him, even talking about how he rules over the boys with an iron fist, but Tedros states that if the boys wanted a different leader, they should've picked someone else to step up.

He tells her he won't hurt her, if they have to fight, but he will tear Sophie apart, so she'd better keep Sophie safe, if she cares so much about her.

Agatha leaves, apologizing for the fact that she might still love him. Tedros apologizes to her for the same reason.

Turns out the boys don't need to pick a new leader because the male teachers do it for them, and lock Tedros in the Doom Room.

He doesn't mind the other boys ignoring him. He doesn't mind the fact that he's not allowed to eat even when he tells the truth. He doesn't mind Aric being a dick or Tristan disappearing into thin air.

He minds greatly when he meets Filip, who has Sophie's evils and makes the mistake of trying to befriend him.

Just to put a target on his back, Tedros allows Filip to win. He wants alone time too, because he's been thinking about Agatha a lot.

Turns out not ALL the boys hate him, because Chaddick tries sneaking him food.

Tedros refuses and asks to be left alone.

A few days later, Filip finds Tedros lying on the ground, passed out and weak from not being fed. He wakes him up and tries to get him to have some lamb, but Tedros kicks Filip away

"Stop whatever game you're playing! I know it's you, Sophie!"

Filip blanches as he stands, flustered. "I... W-Who's Sophie? I'm Filip. Remember?"

Tedros glares up at him and scoffs. "You think I can't tell when you're lying? That I don't know when someone's trying to trick me!? Unless you're here to torture me or rub it in my face that I messed up and you have everything, go away and don't ever talk to me again, you witch!"

Filip(Sophie) is gutted by this, stunned as Tedros adds in a, "Speak of the Devil," as Aric strides in, armed with a whip.

Aric makes Filip leave and gets a few lashes on Tedros as he shouts that the prince is weak, a fool, and useless to eveyone, adding emphasis on weak if he can't even rely on his princess to save him.

When Aric's done with him and leaves, Tedros forces himself to his feet and unpockets a key he snagged off "Filip" when he kicked him.

He gets out and looks for Sophie, who's partnered with Hort for the trial by tale.

He finds Yara instead, heavily injured and dying as he rushes over to her side.

"I tried," she sobs. "I-I tried to get here sooner... and warn you, but he... he came out and-"

Tedros takes her hand, too upset to be angry. "Why, Tristan? Why be with the girls? I would've helped you!"

Tristan, Yara, holds his hand tightly and smiles. "You should've seen it. It was so pretty. And the girls were wearing blue for once."

Even though he has tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks, Tedros can only smile and shake his head. "You're a bloody fool."

"So... So're you."

Tristan apologizes for hiding the Storian away from Tedros, and thanks him for being possibly the only boy in the school for boys that was really nice to him, even though he defected to the girl's shool, in the end. With one last smile, Tristan dies, Tedros setting him down and backing away before shouting and releasing a sort of shadow-y energy, sonic boom that flattens a bunch of trees. He screams, he cries, and he basically mourns the fact that he lost someone he genuinely cared about and saw as a friend, maybe even a brother.

Even though he's weaker than before, tired, emotionally drained, and barely able to stand, Tedros still finds Filip, who's revealed to be Sophie, and, too tired for words, smirks as she tries to explain herself to a very hurt Hort, who she picked as her partner.

"Look who's putting her lessons to good use."

She turns on Tedros and shouts she always tried to help him, even when it would result in a punishment, and where he got worse she got better.

Tedros snickers and asks why she manipulated Agatha and lied to the boys, even Hort, who's her friend. On skaky legs and with unfocused eyes, Tedros murmurs, "You can take the witch out of Evil, but there's no taking the evil out of a witch. No wonder Agatha hates us both."

Just as he falls, Agatha races out of the trees and catches him, apologizing that she hadn't been the one to take the potion and help him and admitting she never hated him. She actually never stopped loving him and believes that he isn't so evil he can't be loved by her.

Tedros asks how she knows, considering the events prior, and Agatha shakes her head; if he was truly as evil as he thinks, she would be dead, her and Sophie both, and both schools would've been destroyed. He can think all he wants that he hates both schools and everyone inside them, and that he's an evil force of destruction that will never sit a throne, but Agatha knows the truth:

He loved going to both schools. He loved being around people, more specifically people who showed him the most minimal shred of kindness, regardless of whether or not it was genuine or out of obligation. He loved being the only one up at night and enjoying the silence of both schools, loved pulling pranks that were harmless, save for causing gray hairs. He loved being friends with Chaddick and Tristan, who took him in and showed him how great it was to even have friends. He loved the lessons in good and the trips between both schools.

Most of all, she knows he loves her, even though she tried tricking him into falling in love with Sophie so they could leave.

Tedros can't help but cry and not seeing any evils grow from Agatha, knowing everything she said was true and that he's an idiot for needing it spelled out for him.

They kiss, ending the conflict between boys and girls, and getting their Happily Ever After. Hort does a good friend move and looks away to give them some kind of privacy, but Sophie is frozen, realizing that regardless of whether she's good or evil, she's not getting Tedros. His heart belongs to Agatha, who feels the same way.

When Evelyn Sader appears with the Storian, bringing back Rafal and dying in the process, Tedros still tries to fight him.

He gets his ass handed to him, and gets that gash in the original story.

When they're sent to Gavaldon and found by Callis, who tends to Tedros, Agatha guves her the run-down, including the fact that Tedros is indeed a Never and the Prince of Camelot.

Callis sighs at this and admits he's good at being still for her, considering how he was so fitful while unconscious. Agatha then admits he sleep walks.

With that in mind, they check and find him awake and staring at Callis, holding a hand out to her as Agatha shakily introductions them.

They trade introductions, Callis at least because Tedros is back to being quiet, and Callis returns to patching him up.

Tedros is quiet as she finishes up, though only breaks his silence with this:

"You're so lucky to have such an amazing daughter."

Sorry this took sonlong to work on. I'm trying to sort of clear the clutter in my Drafts so I can work on more new stuff. This was really fanfic-y, too and I deeply apologize for that😅

Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this!

[sanktnikolais]

Feed The Wolves

A/N: your local zoyalai stan neighbor is here yet again for another content but this time it’s for @wafflesandkruge​‘s birthday!!! I went way overboard with this ig but the Vincenzo fever we’ve been on for the past two weeks was still strong and the ending still tugs at my heart. So pls have this mess, Tiff, I’m sorry HAHDKLHJAFDS Happy birthday, dearest! 🥺🥺

Word count: 13 874

CW: graphic depictions of violence and gore. Read at your own risk.

The Lantsovs have finally taken their move to overthrow the Brums’ tyranny to the extremities. They thought they already have the upper hand and that the odds are finally on their side. But in a game that two players have nothing and everything to lose, there is always a catch in every move they make, and with it also comes a price.

How far are they willing to take it?

If Nikolai could be proud of one moment, he knew it would be today. One couldn’t just make an easy audience with the head of the Brum Family; usually it would take nearly a week to set up an appointment. Jarl Brum was one of the first men to establish their own Families, along with the Tabans, Lantsovs, and the Morozovas, and he was the most powerful among them. 

          For now. 

          When one of the biggest Families was in a war and planning to attack another with the same reputation, it was only necessary to play carefully. Especially going against a cunning opponent like Jarl Brum. Today’s predicament was tricky; one wrong move could cost them the chance. Or worse—their lives. Either way, it was dangerous. But if they didn’t at least try to keep the Brums at bay, it would only be a matter of time before they take over all the cities, including Os Alta. And considering how they handled things, lots of lives could be lost. 

          There was still another way out of this, but it involved extreme measures and there would be no returning after that. He could only hope he wouldn’t have to settle for that last resort no matter how slim his chances were.

          Nikolai snapped the lid of his lighter closed, his loud mind finding solace in the metallic clink it made. His eyes caught on the engraving on the side of the lighter. Consigliere Idiot. He fought a smile. The lighter had been a gift to him by Zoya on his birthday a few years back, and it somehow became his talisman ever since. It was a weird kind of gift at first, with Zoya knowing too well that he didn’t smoke that much. But he still got attached to it. 

          You never know, it might come in handy when you suddenly have an urge to set some place on fire, was what she had told him. 

          He scoffed at the memory, and then took a deep breath as he focused on his current situation. The risks of having this meeting turn to the bloodbath Nikolai was expecting were high, and if he were to be honest, winning a fight against the Brums was almost impossible. 

          But he was never the one to believe in impossible. Only improbable. The one thing he could do now was to put faith on the odds being at their side at the end of the day.

          He flicked his lighter open and closed again before checking his watch. The bright numbers glared back at him like a countdown of a time bomb nearing its detonation. 17:48. Twelve minutes. 

          If his estimate was right, Zoya and her men would have arrived by now and started their raid. But knowing the Lantsov Underboss to be careful and precise, they would need a bit more time. It only meant Nikolai had to continue making small talks with the man to try and see if he could settle a score with the Don without the use of violence. Talking proved to be a bit difficult, though, as the head of the Family was being attentive to focusing on his paperworks rather than Nikolai’s presence.

          "The numbers are really unstable in the past two weeks and it's mostly plummeting," said Jarl as his eyes scanned the paper he was holding for the last time. Then with a dramatic sigh, he opened the drawer to his right and put the file inside, plastering a rather fake smile on his lips afterwards. "There's been a lot of visitors."

          Nikolai could see right through the man's displeasure. He almost laughed. At least the feeling is mutual. "Tell me about it," he said with a light laugh. "Having your business overrun without any reason sure does something to you." 

          A shadow crossed the Don's face, but Nikolai only smiled innocently and held his gloved hand out for a handshake, a sort of formal gesture between a Don and a Consigliere before and after every meeting. Anyone lower than the Underboss aren't allowed to touch the head of a Family, and they could only do as much as bow in respect for the Don. 

          Jarl accepted it reluctantly, his grip firm as if he were contemplating breaking Nikolai’s hand. Nikolai was grateful when the man didn't. Maybe because it wasn't a good sight to have and talk business to a Consigliere with a broken hand. 

          "A pleasant afternoon, isn't it?" mused Nikolai as he took a sip of the coffee. It tasted good, but not nearly as good as Genya's brew. No poison. Or maybe there was and the effects just weren't kicking in yet. He suddenly wished for the woman's knack on any poison. "The perfect chance to kill time.”

          The Brum Don laughed lightly, the sound mildly threatening as if he had just thought of something vile. “Indeed, Consigliere,” he said, leaning back more comfortably in his chair. “Is the coffee good? I apologize if it isn’t, but I do hope the atmosphere is comfortable.”

          Nikolai fought a wince. He had been here a few times before. Jarl’s office was ice white—ranging from the walls, floorings, and the ceiling. Even the chair he was sitting on had been white. The only thing that gave another color to the pasty room were the furniture and a few appliances. At least his couches were blood red, and the view of the huge window behind his desk was different in shade. Nikolai was thankful for the change of scenery. 

          “No, no. Everything is good.” It sounded fake, considering how he despised the man's office. But he shook it off. He tipped the mug up in a toast. “I appreciate it, and thank you for accepting my appointment.” He found it funny and silly, when Jarl’s caporegimes used the term “appointment”. It was as if Nikolai wanted to get his teeth checked by a dentist, and considering how the man’s office looked, maybe it really was one. “I thought it would take me another week to wait for the confirmation.”

          “You’re a Lantsov, from the first pioneers of the Families.” Jarl paused, a hint of a sneer appearing on his face. “You needn’t to be delayed.”

          There was something the way Jarl spoke that didn’t sit well with Nikolai, like the man knew something he didn’t. A thought crossed his mind, but he shook it off. There was no way Jarl knew about that. Or was it? It was not impossible—the Brum Don had a wide network of informants. Rumor had it that there were a few in Os Alta, the city that the Lantsovs had control over. 

          Him knowing about Nikolai’s real father would only give him power against them. But then Nikolai still decided to brush it off, though its dangerous possibility still lingered at the back of his mind. It wasn’t the time to think of it. They had to take back the territories that were once theirs, even if they had to do it by brute force. It’s what Zoya would have preferred, anyway.

          “That’s good to hear,” said Nikolai with a tight smile.

          The man crossed his hands over the table, a glint evident in his eyes. Nikolai didn’t know what to make out of it. “So let’s hear it, Consigliere,” said Jarl. “What brings the Lantsovs here?”

          Straight to the point. Nikolai put his mug back to the desk and removed his gloves, exposing his scarred hands. Jarl’s eyes flitted to Nikolai's hands for a moment before looking away, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Nikolai felt a sneer twitch on his lips. Scars weren’t new to people like them—they had new ones very often, depending on the work they were doing that time. It was their brand, and they wear it with pride.

          But if people knew the history of the scars you bore, especially when you had gotten it from being the vicious Enforcer who once intimidated the streets of Halmhend, you would have an ace against your enemies. And for Nikolai, he exactly just had that. 

          “We’re eyeing the areas in Halmhend and Ulensk for expansion,” he said, and he noticed the Brum Don perk up a little from his chair. Now Nikolai had his attention. “I heard that the two properties in those locations require some...changes. Big changes, if I may add. So I would like to propose an offer to buy the property for double its actual value.” He stopped to consider, putting a finger to his chin. "No, wait. Make it triple." 

          Jarl didn't answer for a while, and his expression was in between being offended and amused. Nikolai wondered if the man thought that his offer was a bluff. 

          "I think you're quite mistaken, Consigliere," he said mildly, his tone having an underlying disbelief. "We do not place our properties up for purchase or any sort of deal." 

          The properties you had taken from Families by force, Nikolai wanted to say, but he bit back his tongue. The feel of the lighter in his other hand was enough to ease the sudden flare of anger in his chest. He put on his signature grin to cover it up. "Ah, but I thought your numbers were plummeting for the past two weeks? I think my offer would help the numbers to be friendly and rise up nicely again." 

          "Is that what your father told you to do?" Jarl asked as he leaned back further into his chair. The look on his face had gone from slightly friendly to threatening. "To try and sway me with money?" 

          "Don't we all want to be swayed and pampered by money?" countered Nikolai, the grin never leaving his lips. Jarl’s expression only became darker, and it made Nikolai want to goad him more. "Think of the numbers finally rising, Jarl. I know you want that." 

          "It’s foolish to think that I’d willingly sell properties that we have the ability to look after just quite well, Consigliere.” The Brum Don shook his head with a disappointed expression. “I never thought you would be this desperate.”

          This ticked something inside Nikolai, and he found himself suddenly saying, “Is that why you worked with the Radimovs to overthrow our territories?”

          There was a tense silence, and the expression on Jarl’s face turned from angry to mildly surprised, like he hadn't expected Nikolai to know about the Brums involvement with the assault. They weren't the only Family with spies stationed in different cities; the Lantsovs had just as much informants as the Brums have, if not a bit less.

          Nikolai took the silence as his chance to continue. "Ah, let me make that clear. The Radimovs doing the dirty work and the Brums happening to ‘buy’ the two properties the following day from them. That's pretty much all of it, right? And it's not different from what you did with the Tabans and the Demidovs. And somehow the Morozovas too." He chuckled darkly. "Though it's probably pretty much the Morozovas' payment to your Family for protecting their ass, so I wouldn't really take that into account. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

          Jarl’s jaw was set, as if determined not to admit to the accusation. His eyes were hard, but Nikolai could notice the man's hand suddenly fiddling the pen within his reach in tense movements. He has such an obvious tell. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

          "Oh, I'm merely joking, sir. I mean, I am indeed a genius in certain aspects, but I didn’t learn about that information by connecting the dots. I knew about your tactics from an informant," said Nikolai with a kind smile. "We may have been spiraling a bit out of control since the attempted murder of my father, but we're not as stupid as you think."

          The Brums had used the Lantsovs’ distraction in prioritizing the Don’s security to their advantage, going as far as making frequent appearances in their properties, and even in Os Alta. One of the instances he couldn’t forget were the three Brum soldiers who had caused disturbance in their bar in Kribirsk, and it stirred up the brewing dispute between their Families. 

          Nikolai wouldn't even be surprised if the Brums had something to do with the assassination. And if he were to really think of it now, it was most likely possible. The Demidovs weren't that powerful enough to do something as bold as trying to take down one of the most powerful Dons in the country, unless there was a much bigger hand controlling them. 

          The only Family who had the ability to pull off a stunt like that was the Brums. But knowing them, they always used someone else to do their dirty work for them as they wanted to maintain the 'clean slate' of their name. 

          They could always put out the fire, but they can never cover up the smoke. 

          Jarl considered Nikolai for another moment, and then he let out a loud laugh. “I get why Alexander appointed you as Consigliere and not your older brother. A clever boy, you are,” he said. "Can't be fooled easily." 

          "I'd take that as a compliment, sir," said Nikolai. 

          He reached over to the mug of coffee again, but his hand suddenly felt stiff and rigid as if something was keeping it from being able to move. Then his vision blurred slightly for a moment before it sharpened again, making him blink. 

          It took him a second, and a quiet laugh bubbled from his chest. His suspicions were right, then. He gripped the lighter tightly in his hand like it was the only source of his strength. Coffee was the last thing he had expected to have poison in it, and disbelief muddled his mind. 

          Cheeky bastard, should have put it in brandy or whiskey instead of slandering coffee this way.

          Nikolai held the mug with a bit of effort in his outstretched hand, trying not to let his strain show. But when he looked up back to the Don again, there was no denying that he had already noticed Nikolai’s difficulty in moving, and the beginning of a smirk was evident on Jarl’s expression. The knife hidden under the lapel of Nikolai’s coat suddenly felt heavy.

          This was going to be a pain to get through again. 

          "How's your father, Nikolai?" the man asked. Even his voice sounded faraway now. "Is he recovering well?" 

          "He is. Quite well, I'll say. He might get discharged next week," Nikolai replied before raising the mug to his lips again. It was only when he took another sip of the coffee did he finally recognize the slightest difference in the taste of a purely black coffee. Genya would have scolded him for not recognizing it right away. Cyanide. Cheap. "He sends his regards, by the way." 

          Jarl smiled. "I appreciate it." He paused, his eyebrows furrowing in mock concern. Nikolai wanted to laugh. "Are you alright? You seem to be looking quite unwell."

          Nikolai shrugged, the movement requiring much more effort as he was still adjusting to the toxins in his body. "I'm fine, just a bit stiff. The coffee had a bit of a kick in it."

          "Ah, but you did like your coffee without sugar, right?" 

          "Yeah, makes it more bracing." He gestured to the mug with a nod before placing it back to the desk. A dull tremor shot through him, and he fiddled with the lighter in his hand to keep it from going completely numb. "So, is your answer really a no?" 

          "You make me laugh, Consigliere. Here you are, alone, wanting to have an appointment to meet with me just to offer some nonsense." 

          “I wouldn’t actually call it nonsense I would say ultimatum, but that sounds too threatening so I think I’d tone it down for a bit,” said Nikolai, his tone light. He checked his watch. 17:58. Almost there. But then another tremor shot through him, and this time, he wasn’t able to stop a pained groan from tearing in his throat. He raised a finger. “Wait, give me a second.”

          Nikolai closed his eyes and breathed deeply, flexing his fingers open and close. This was becoming rather embarrassing for him, to give threats to someone of a much higher rank than him while looking he was about to throw up, but he took his time. After a few more moments, he finally regained his composure. When he looked back up to the Don, Jarl had an amused expression on his face as if he were thinking of Nikolai as a big joke. 

          "Consider it a friendly warning," Nikolai said with a grin. “I wouldn’t want to spew threats yet when I still haven’t tried to convince you to change your mind.”

          Jarl’s expression darkened. "This is a three-hectare property. No one would notice the Lantsov Consigliere not coming out of here." 

          "Oh, dear me. Are we doing threats now?" Nikolai laughed, or more like wheezed, and shook his head. "Three hectares, you say? So if I burned down this side of the compound, firefighters won't arrive in time, no? Or even just shooting you, I'm pretty sure no one else would hear." 

          "You're in my compound, Nikolai. My territory." 

          Nikolai shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me before." 

          "There are guards patrolling around right outside the hall. They will immediately barge in the moment I hit the alarm." 

          "Ah, let them. I like that kind of attention. Boosts my ego exponentially." The watch around Nikolai’s wrist beeped softly, and he glanced down at it to confirm that the numbers had already turned to 18:00. "I also did like my coffee without poison, actually. But I appreciate the improvised addition. Cyanide as an alternative to sugar? Genius. Gave a rush of thrill in my blood." 

          If Nikolai could frame the look of the evident shock on Jarl’s face, he would have made a whole exhibit just for it. People needed to see such a rare sighting of the Brum Don getting caught off guard. The man blinked repeatedly, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing in front of him. 

          Trust me, this will get useful at some point, Genya's voice echoed in his head. Nikolai silently thanked their caporegime's insistence for him to develop poison immunity. All those days of handling mild paralysis and unconsciousness was worth it. 

          "Oh, pardon me. Was I being too straightforward with that?" He chuckled lightly. "I can repeat it though. You got me good there, I can already feel it kicking in. But if you wanted to kill me, I think I would prefer a bullet to the brain just to be sure. That's a hundred percent chance I wouldn't walk out of here alive, or just mix in as much cyanide as you have. A sprinkle won’t be enough."

          Jarl let out a laugh of his own, but the sound came out nervous instead of threatening. The man was evidently pale and he was now holding the pen so tightly in his fist he could have snapped it in half. "But that would be messy now, wouldn't it?" he said with a grin. Even his smile looked forced. "As you've told me, we don't do the dirty work.

          "Hmm, fair. But there would be no thrill at all, would it? Having to hide behind your coffers and let others do the labor? That's icky." Nikolai shook his head. There was another tremor that shot throughout his body, but it was much weaker than the ones before it, and he almost smiled. At least that was over. Bless you, Genya. He leaned forward for a bit, his eyes narrowing curiously. "Do tell me, Jarl. How would it feel when someone else takes over your business by force, and brutally kills your men and innocent workers in the process? They’re not a threat, Jarl. Much less an enemy. Why involve them in the mess? We don’t do that. That is against our principles. But I guess that's never in your book, was it? You just do things that would satisfy your greed and thirst for blood."

          “Getting bolder now, aren't we, Consigliere? I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you. Do you think the Lantsovs could handle another loss, especially their Consigliere?” The Brum Don shook his head, a look of disappointment on his face. “Who would try to handle things diplomatically?”

          It was threat after threat. “That is a good question, sir,” said Nikolai. He flexed his fingers on both hands and put them on his knees. “I know Nazyalensky can be diplomatic if need be. But I also know she prefers to use rather drastic measures than talking. ‘It’s the easier way’, she always says. I would have to agree with her at certain times.”

          “Are you implying something?”

          Nikolai plastered a grin on his face. “Only the fact that you’d be facing lesser diplomatic meetings with the Lantsovs if I ever not make it out of here alive,” he said. A soft ping resounded, and he took out his phone from his coat pocket. He checked the alert, his grin turning smug and menacing, the kind that people rarely see the Lantsov Consigliere ever did. “And that you’d probably be dealing with it sooner than you thought.”

          A look of confusion bloomed on the Don’s face, and then, as if on cue, the telephone on the side of his desk blared, the sound startling Jarl and making him jump slightly on his seat. He looked at it with suspicion. Nikolai wanted to laugh, but he figured that it would be rude. Besides, the whole ordeal wasn’t done yet—a lot could still happen, and he was still reeling from the effects of the poison. But he could already see the odds on their side.

          “I would answer that if I were you,” Nikolai said calmly, his fingers finding the lid of his lighter again. He flicked it open and back close. He could still feel the strain in his hand, but at least it he could move it properly again. “It’s probably important.”

          Jarl narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s your deal, Consigliere? Why are you really here?”

          “Just answer the telephone, sir. Maybe it will give you the answer.”

          There was another tense silence. The Brum Don suddenly didn’t look like he was having fun trying to get him cornered. This was the best part for Nikolai, the thrill he always got whenever the upper hand his enemies had against him was suddenly taken away from them and he would watch them crumble slowly and back away until they were the ones cornered instead of him. It was such a satisfying view to watch. 

          And Nikolai were to look at it now, it was exactly how he wanted it. One didn’t just easily get Jarl Brum on the edge of his seat. 

          “Well?” Nikolai mused.

          The frown on Brum Don’s face only deepened, and then reluctantly, he reached for the telephone and slowly raised the receiver near his ear. A few beats, and then, “Yes?”

          Nikolai watched the man’s face pale, his eyes shifting everywhere with the look of evident panic in them. His hand tightened around the receiver until his knuckles were almost white from gripping it too much. There was just so much anger radiating off of him that Nikolai was surprised the Don hadn’t even pointed a gun at him yet. 

          Then Jarl’s attention snapped to him after a moment, his eyes murderous with every intent to kill. Nikolai returned his look with an innocent grin, and the Don’s jaw was set in complete rage. If were some other person, he knew he would have cowered back in fear. But years trying to prove himself he was worthy to be an official member of the Lantsov family despite his bloodline contributed a lot to the name he had built for himself. 

          The Demon Prince of Halmhend—the people had whispered his name in both awe and fear. And with each dark and nasty scar and blood he got on his hands, the stronger his reputation grew. He would get the job done, and he would use whatever method he had to, even if it meant having to have a staredown with death himself.

          It would take much more than some Don’s murderous look to derail Nikolai from his goal. 

          He watched patiently as the Don put back the receiver to the cradle, his dark gaze turning from enraged to cold fury, like he had finally accepted whatever was said to him in the call. Jarl stared down at him for another long moment, and Nikolai could practically see the gears in the man’s head working. 

          “Alright, Consigliere. You made your point.” The Don kept his face expressionless, but his eyes told Nikolai otherwise. “What do you really want?”

          Finally. “Stop the unnecessary attacks and killings,” Nikolai said. “You can’t keep that act up and expect the others not to turn against you.”

          “No one would dare go against us. We both know that.”

          “It’s because we’re still holding back.”

          A shadow passed over Jarl’s face, and his expression darkened even more. “Is that a challenge?”

          “Maybe,” replied Nikolai. He reached up to fix his tie. “If I were to be honest, the Tabans could take you any day. They just don’t choose to. Waste of resources, they say. But really, I understand. It would be too easy for them.”

          “The Tabans don’t choose to fight because they’re cowards,” Jarl said with a huff. “Not because they don’t choose to do so.”

          Nikolai wrinkled his nose. “Tell that to Madam Makhi’s face, and you’ll see your throat by the end of her sword,” he said. He leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “She keeps a very sharp sword in her office, by the way. And she knows how to use it, so I don’t really suggest going against her.”

          Jarl shook his head, the smirk still evident on his lips. “And if I don’t agree to your motion? What can you possibly do with—”

          “You would find my family retaliating,” Nikolai cut him off, and the Don reared back in mild surprise. “The attacks would continue, and I will let it go on. Don’t try fighting in a war where you’re going to lose.” 

          The Don didn’t say anything after that. Nikolai gave him a smile, feeling a bit more confident than before that maybe they had driven Jarl Brum into a corner. Then, to his astonishment, Jarl did something entirely beyond his expectation.

          He laughed.

          And it wasn’t the desperate type but rather a genuinely amused one, like he had just heard the funniest joke that Nikolai could have ever done. Instantly, his grin faded. Jarl Brum was actually laughing. Nikolai could only look back at the Brum Don with utter confusion as uneasiness settled in his gut. The man acted as if he was one step ahead of them, and whatever confidence Nikolai had in himself the moment he stepped inside the man’s office was gone. 

          “The White Island, huh?” Jarl said through his laughs. He shook his head, dramatically reaching up to wipe the nonexistent tears from his eyes. "That hotel is quite a sight, but its location in Ulensk is utter shit. You can burn it down all you want, I wouldn't mind. You didn't have to hide the fact you would raid it just to make a point."

          Dread washed over Nikolai. It felt like this was the real poison taking effect in his system and halted his thoughts completely. How in the saints' name did Jarl know about the raid? Were Tolya and Tamar safe? Which part of the Don's terrified look had been real? 

          He watched the Brum Don stand from his seat and walked to the drawers behind his desk. He bent down to pull a bottle of wine out along with two glasses, humming happily as he went along. It was a baffling sight to see Jarl’s shift in his demeanor, especially from the perspective of a person who knew their way around manipulating their own emotions. 

          Was this how he looked like to other people? Awful and terrifying? 

          "You're a lot silent now, Consigliere," mused Jarl as he poured wine onto the two glasses. He didn't even need to turn around for Nikolai to know that the man was having fun having the upper hand once again. "Did I surprise you?" 

          Nikolai's hand clenched into a fist to keep it from trembling badly with suppressed fury. It wasn't the right time to act yet. He glared at the Brum Don's back, and with slow, silent movements, he carefully reached for the knife under his lapel and slipped it in the edge of his sleeve. The distress and fear clouding his mind may have been overwhelming enough to make him unable to answer, but he wasn't going to let any chances slide. The Brum Don took his silence as a cue to continue. 

          "Ah, don't worry. Your guys leading the raid in White Island Hotel is fine," said Jarl with a light laugh. "I didn't put extra security there tonight on purpose. So your guys are probably done turning the place upside down by now." Then he paused, lifting his head up to stare out the glass window in front of him. "It's actually your people who went to the arms factory I'm worried about." 

          Whatever composure Nikolai had in himself crumbled to nothing. No—

          "You're probably wondering how I knew about it. Well, like you, I have my informants too. And that huge shipment of firepower last week? What other reasons did the Lantsovs have to have that kind of shipment aside from going to war? Doesn't need to take a genius to figure that out." Jarl walked back to his desk and placed the other glass of wine he was holding in front of Nikolai. "And what's the most convenient thing to hit during a war? The arms factory and its warehouse. It's only our luck that you sent Nazyalensky to her own demise. I did put more security in that place." 

          For once, Nikolai didn't have anything to say back. He usually prided himself of being able to make people bow down to his wishes, even if it meant threatening them to the extremes or just simply having a conversation with them. 

          And yet the mere thought of Zoya in danger was enough to spiral him out of his thoughts.

          "I did surprise you now, didn't I?" Jarl chuckled, taking another sip from his glass. "You see, this is what I meant when I said no one dares to go against us. I'm always a step ahead."

          Nikolai gritted his teeth, clenching his hands into fists to keep himself from lunging at the Don. "What did you do to her?" 

          "Do settle down, Consigliere. She's not in danger. Oh, at least not yet. I haven't given them any orders." He paused, frowning as if he had said something wrong. "But that may change in a moment. Unless you do something for me." 

          "What do you want?" 

          Jarl raised an eyebrow. "That was fast, I haven't even blinked," he said. "It's quite a sight to see the great Lantsov Consigliere quickly bow down just because his woman is in danger." 

          "Just say your conditions, Jarl." 

          "You will agree to sign a contract that would legally make the Lantsovs as the Brums' subsidiary." 

          Nikolai looked at the Don with utter disbelief like he had just grown another head on his shoulder. Jarl must have been joking. Maybe Zoya was alright and had already handled the situation at Halmhend. Nikolai's irritation suddenly flared. His thinking was becoming too unstable—which wasn't ideal for his current situation. And if he continued to let Jarl’s words get to him, he would certainly lose this fight. 

          "In fact, it's still quite a generous offer." Jarl tipped his head in respect. "It's for seeing through that coffee I gave you. And even surviving it." 

          "And what if I don't?" Nikolai asked, voice nearly a hiss. 

          Jarl smiled. “Then Nazyalensky dies. Very simple.” 

          “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

          Then as if on cue, Nikolai’s phone rang again, tearing his attention away from wanting to lunge at the Don. He looked at the screen, and it showed a restricted number was trying to make a call. And even though it didn't exactly show who was calling, Nikolai already knew who was on the other line. 

          "I would answer that if I were you," said Jarl, his tone smug as he repeated Nikolai’s line from earlier. With a confident smile that almost ticked off the last Nikolai’s patience, Jarl added, "It's probably important." 

          Nikolai looked down at his phone again, thinking that maybe if he stared hard enough at the bright numbers glaring back at him, the call would stop and prove that the Brum Don was just bluffing. 

          But when it continued to ring, it stabbed fear into his heart. Zoya never called him during an operation, only quick signals and messages. 

          "Well?" Jarl mused. He took a sip from his own glass and raised an eyebrow. "Nazyalensky won't wait all night." 

          The urge to act upon his anger was now stronger than his will to keep on a neutral face, and yet Nikolai still held back. He wouldn't do anything unless he was sure he had every reason to. 

          But the mention of Zoya's name from this despicable man's lips was making it hard to keep himself from killing the Don. 

          "If you lay even one finger on her," Nikolai said, voice low with threat, "I will burn every single place you have until the flames reach you and you will be burning down with them." 

          A shadow passed on Jarl’s face, but it was gone as soon as Nikolai could blink, and there was the sneer on his face again. "Just answer the call, Consigliere." 

          Nikolai did what he was told and he swiped the icon to the right. He slowly put the phone to his ear, his gaze never wavering from Jarl. 

          The other line was quiet, except for the occasional strained breathing in the background. He fought the urge to call out for her name—it wasn't the time to give the Brum Don more leverage against him. So he waited. 

          Zoya, he pleaded in his mind. Please be alright. 

          It was a desperate thought, one he hoped that would be true, because he would have to settle for the last resort and the Don wouldn't see another sunrise after tonight. 

          There was another silence, more ragged breathing. Nikolai's vision was starting to tunnel as he fought for composure, and Don's smirk was only adding fuel to the fire in him that was waiting to be ignited. 

          A beat, and there was a pained voice that said, "Nikolai—" 

          Something in Nikolai snapped, and he was suddenly flicking the knife out from his sleeve and then hauled it at Jarl Brum. 

          It hit the man on his shoulder hard enough for his chair to tip back, and he fell over with a shout. Nikolai shot up from his own chair and slid over the Don's desk, landing on the ground next to the man and kicking the man's arm even before he could reach for the alarm button under the edge of the table. He kept Jarl's arm pinned to the floor with his foot, and when the Don tried to reach for Nikolai's ankle with his other free arm, he pressed his foot harder against the man's arm he was sure he heard a soft crack.

          Dizziness hit nim like a tidal wave that almost threw him off balance. His vision swayed. Waiting for his body to adapt to the toxins would still take a bit of time, but he was being driven by his rage that he almost forgot he wasn’t here to kill the Don.

          "Did I catch you off guard?" Jarl asked with a strained laugh. "She really is your soft spot, eh? If I had known earlier I would have—" 

          Nikolai didn’t let him finish and brought his foot down with force, completely breaking the man's wrist. Jarl opened his mouth to let out a scream of pain, but Nikolai's other foot had already hit the Don across face before he could make a sound. Blood dripped from the side of the man's lips, and he spit it out to the side. 

          “I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you,” Nikolai said. With casual ease, he nudged the handle of the knife with his toe, and it earned another shout from the man. A smirk twitched on his lips at the sound of the Don's agony. There was always something satisfying in hearing your enemies scream in pain. "Not looking so tough now, aren't you, sir? But do scream all you want. Your office is soundproof, isn’t it?" 

          Despite himself, Jarl still hadn't cowered back in fear. If possible, he only became much angrier than when Nikolai was goading him before. "The Families would know about this assault," he said through gritted teeth. "You're making a big mistake by attacking the Brum Don." 

          "Am I now?" Nikolai leaned closer, resting his elbow on his bent knee. He reached out his other hand and patted Jarl on the cheek. The man flinched under his touch. "And 'Brum Don'? All I see is a dead man."

          Jarl’s eyes widened in fear. "You won't kill me." 

          Nikolai huffed lightly. "That's what our enemies in Halmhend used to say." He shrugged, and then reached for the Don’s uninjured arm. "Look where it got them." 

          With a hard tug on the man’s wrist, Nikolai kicked the desk until it was farther away from Jarl’s reach. He wasn’t taking any chances of the Don trying to sneak and alarm his men to his office. At least not just yet. They had the time for games later. Nikolai dragged Jarl to the wine drawer, throwing him off to the small wooden doors with a resounding thump. 

          Jarl groaned in pain, and yet it still sounded restrained as if he were keeping himself from making another shout. He was cradling his broken wrist on his lap, shoulder hunched forward enough for him to not show his face. 

          Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Don't be shy now, I know you want to shout," he said as he grabbed the Don's fallen chair, standing it upright again and pulling it in front of Jarl before sitting down. He pulled out the lighter from his pocket. "I don't like it when they don't scream in pain."

          There was no answer for a long moment, with the Don still in his hunched position. Nikolai eyed him sideways. The man's shoulders were shaking with every breath he drew, and the spot where the knife was lodged continued to leak of blood. 

          It was new to him to see Jarl Brum in such a vulnerable state. But he was still trying to put up the tough persona a Don should have, and Nikolai was determined to break him slowly. Inflicting immense pain was one of the strengths Nikolai learned in the streets that gave birth to his name.

          “Still good, sir?” he asked in mock wonder. “You’re not as strong as I thought.”

          The man shot up from his place on the floor, his other arm stretched out as if to reach for Nikolai’s neck, but the Consigliere had already anticipated it. He simply leaned back and grabbed the man by both of his arms. His movements stopped. 

          Nikolai gave him a sneer. "Courageous," he said with genuine respect. "But still slow."

          He kicked the man on the chest, sending him crashing back to the drawers in a heap. Then Nikolai brought his foot down to Jarl’s ankle this time. There was another resounding crack, followed by a howl of pain. He almost smiled. 

          "Now that's the shout," Nikolai said. He stared down at the Don with pity. Jarl looked incredibly smaller for the Brum Don that terrorized everyone else. It was amusing to see how pain made anyone kneel to its extremities. "I thought your pride would still forbid you to scream. Make it louder for me, yeah? It sounds better." 

          "What do you want, Lantsov?" Jarl spat as if the name were some poison that stung his mouth. “Or should I say Opjer?”

          Nikolai’s jaw ticked in annoyance. He knows too much. "Not 'Consigliere' anymore? I feel sad about that, sir." He bent down and reached for the man's arm, bringing his hand close to him. He opened the lid of his lighter and put one of the Don's fingers in between the edge of the lid and the case. "I'll be brief, which I rarely do as I prefer talking more." He paused. "Call off your men."

          Jarl let out a laugh. "Too late for that, Nikolai. But I can almost assume that they're already leaving now that the threat was handled in the—" 

          Nikolai forced the lid of his lighter close, and the Don screamed in pain. The tip of his finger was set in an odd angle, with blood leaking from the damaged nail. It dripped onto Nikolai’s hand and his wrist, and then to the cuff of his sleeve. He inwardly winced in displeasure. It could be taken care of later. 

          He kept his expression impassive and moved to another finger. "Call off your men," he repeated. 

          Jarl’s face was twisted in cold rage, but there was no denying the agony he was under that he was still trying to put up with. When he didn’t answer, Nikolai closed the lighter onto the man’s next finger. Another howl of agony. He moved to another finger. 

          “Eight remaining fingers, eight remaining chances,” he said. “I will say it again. Call off your men, Jarl. I’m still being generous with giving you chances.”

          The man only smirked, and just as Nikolai was about to break off another finger, a loud thump resounded somewhere behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The doors to Jarl’s office were rattling, almost threatening to come off its hinges. The Don's men had a good way of knocking.

          "As I've said," Jarl wheezed, making Nikolai turn back to him, "too late to do that." 

          Nikolai tsked. "Very well," he said, and then clamped the lid to the man's third finger. He let go of his arm, and Jarl crumpled down to the ground. "A reward for being able to sneak past me." 

          His men were still trying to barge the doors down, but they were almost succeeding in doing so when Nikolai caught a glimpse of the light outside the hall through the small space by the door that was beginning to grow wider. He turned back to the Don. 

          "Let's make you a bit more presentable, shall we?" said Nikolai. 

          He grabbed the man by the collar and forced him to stand before dragging him to the chair. Jarl wheezed in pain as he tried to fight back, but both of his hands were so badly damaged he couldn't make use of them. The Don could only give Nikolai as much as a glare. 

          He forced the man back down to the chair. "No need to look so angry, sir." 

          "You won't get out of here alive, Lantsov," growled Jarl. "You are totally outnumbered. My men would—" 

          "Ah" —Nikolai patted the man on the cheek— "let's not get ahead of our predictions. Let me borrow this for a second." He swiftly pulled out the knife from Jarl’s shoulder. "I'll be right back." 

          "You and Nazyalensky are goners, Consigliere. Both of you are not going to make it through the night." 

          "We'll see about that." 

          Nikolai eyed the still rattling doors, and glanced at the bloodied knife in his hand. He would be at a total disadvantage, he knew, but it was better than having nothing. Besides, he'd had far much worse situations that he got out of, some that involved using bare hands and teeth just to survive. 

          Tonight wasn't any different either. 

          He approached the doors just as there was finally the sound of a wood splintering, and he pressed himself against the wall beside the entryway. With a twist of his knife in his hand, he reached up to remove the tie around his neck with his other, letting the ends fall loose onto his shirt. It would only be a hindrance to his movements. 

          The doors barged open and men in gray overcoats came rushing in. Nikolai tightened his grip around the knife and counted heads. Seven. Jarl should have invited more.

          The man nearest to him hadn't noticed him yet, and he took his chance. 

          Nikolai stepped forward and pushed his knife behind the man's throat. 

          One. 

          He immediately pulled the knife out, letting it fly towards the other Soldier to his right. Blood spurted from the man's neck. He crumpled to the ground with a gurgling sound. 

          A sneer twitched on his lips. 

        �� Two. 

          He started humming. The remaining men finally turned to him with their guns raised, but Nikolai was already on the move. He collided with the third one. His hand closed around the gun barrel and the other to the man's hand, pointing the gun to the other Soldiers. 

          Nikolai pulled the trigger. It hit the other Soldier on the head. 

          Three. 

          He turned a bit to the left and fired twice on the fourth Soldier's chest. 

          Four. 

          Nikolai twisted, using the third Soldier as a shield just as the shots erupted. The body convulsed as it took the barrage of bullets. Then the shots stopped, and he pressed the barrel under the man's chin before pulling the trigger. 

          Five. 

          He grabbed the gun, aimed over the dead man's shoulder, and fired at the other Soldier. He immediately crumpled on the ground after the bullet went straight through his skull. 

          Six. 

          With a push, Nikolai finally let the body fall to the ground. He turned to find the last Soldier, but he wasn't fast enough.

          A shot rang out, and pain burst on his ear. He stopped humming and blinked. The remaining Soldier looked at him with a terrified expression, his hand trembling so badly as if he was out enduring the cold winter night. Then he dropped the gun completely and he fell to the ground. 

          Nikolai approached him slowly, like a predator cornering his prey. The Soldier started to back away. But the tremors quaking his body were too much that he couldn't even move fast enough. 

          A moment later, Nikolai was hovering above him, with the barrel of the gun pointed at his face, and he immediately raised a hand to protect himself. 

          "No—" 

          But Nikolai already pulled the trigger before the Soldier could even plead, and he crumpled to the ground on the pool of blood from the hole in his head. 

          Seven. 

          The room went silent again. Nikolai reached a hand up to his ear, feeling the sticky wetness around it along with the sting of pain. When he looked at his hand, his fingers were drenched in blood. He huffed. At least they were able to nick him. 

          He turned back to Jarl, who was still sitting idly on his office chair, the expression on his face was a mix of horror and bewilderment.

          "There'd be more of them in a few moments, right?" Nikolai asked mildly as he went and got his knife from the Soldier's neck. He wiped it at the edge of the Soldier's gray coat, staining it red. Then he put it back behind the lapel of his coat. “How many are there left?”

          At the Don’s silence, he scoffed. He walked back to Jarl by the desk, grabbing the man by his collar and forcing him up to his remaining good foot. It’d have to do. An audience was still an audience no matter how few they were, and he wanted Jarl to see every drop of blood shed by his men for everything they had done, and for every life they had ruined. 

          For hurting Zoya.

          Because in the end, he would rather let himself be the one to end all this rather than branding himself as a traitor for selling his own Family out and risking any chances of putting Zoya's life on the line even more. He could only hope Tamar would be able to reach her on time. 

          There was no turning back from this. 

          This tyranny had to end tonight, as it would only continue until the point of time where no one could stop them. 

          It was time to be the monster that he had been once more. 

          Nikolai dragged Jarl outside the doors of the office. “Let the hunting party start, then.”

---

Zoya struggled against the restraints bounding her hands behind her. But then pain shot up to her side from where a bullet had grazed her during the shootout earlier. She grit her teeth, glaring at the man in front of her. She would definitely break his neck the moment she got free. 

          The storage room where they had been holding her was guarded with three other men in gray overcoats. They looked stiff and alert, their guns poised readily to aim at her the moment she tried to do something funny. Zoya wanted to laugh. She understood the hostility around her, especially when there's only several of them left in the warehouse. 

          It was supposed to be much lesser than Zoya had expected—the arms warehouse should have been empty except for a few guards on patrol and a Brum Soldier staying in the upstairs office. 

          But instead of that, Zoya had walked straight up into a trap instead, with the number of Jarl’s men tripling and they were being led by Ivor Kravchenko, the notorious Brum caporegime known for his brutal tendencies when it came to taking down his enemies. 

          She had come to think that there might have been a leak of their own plans to orchestrate the simultaneous attacks against the Brums. They had been able to reduce a great number from Jarl’s men, but it cost all the lives of Zoya's men that were with her during the attack. Their blood would forever be on her hands. 

          The other thing she could hope for now was that Nikolai and the twins were alright on their sides of this predicament. 

          “You shouldn’t have left your Don’s compound,” she said. It was taking a lot of her remaining strength to speak. "You all left your boss' to the wolf's mercy." 

          The man, whom Zoya remembered as Ivor and Jarl's notorious caporegime, gave a dark laugh. "A wolf, you say? It doesn't matter, a lone wolf is no match for a whole pack," said the caporegime. "Your Consigliere might even be dead by now. Just like the rest of your men here. Don't get too cheeky now." 

          Zoya's rage flared, the urge to make the man suffer stronger than before. "You seem to be forgetting that I killed half of your men alone," she said. "You better make sure I don't get out of these bounds because it will be your blood spilled on the ground next." 

          This seemed to annoy Ivor, making him step forward in haste with a murderous expression on his face. But then he stopped abruptly as if he had just remembered something, and he straightened back up. "I could kill you right now and be done with it, Nazyalensky," he said in a low voice. "But I still just choose not to. It's fun to see the great Lantsov Underboss tied down at the Brums mercy." 

          "Chose not to, or you're still waiting for your Don to give the order like a good puppy you are?" Zoya said back, savoring the look of new rage on the caporegime's face. She gave him a sharp smile. "It's been an hour since you called my Consigliere and tried to rattle him down. You haven't even heard from Jarl ever since then." 

          Ivor snarled, and then he was grabbing at Zoya's hair and pulling her head back, his knife suddenly pressed to her cheek. Zoya smirked triumphantly. It was so easy to derail him—the whole Brum Family if possible. They were all bombs that were ready to detonate at any time. 

          This would be fun when she finally had him under her mercy later. But having to reach that point seemed very difficult and almost next to impossible, especially when there were ropes bounding her hands. 

          An realization dawned in her head when her eyes trailed down the knife near her face. She just had to make the man drop it somehow. 

          "Do not test me, Nazyalensky," Ivor growled as he pressed the knife harder to her skin. Zoya felt a trickle of blood run down her face. He traced the blood with the knife point lightly before hovering it to her skin again. "I can be merciless at certain times." 

          As can I, Ivor. "Suits you, then," said Zoya simply. "I have the freedom to choose when to be merciless. Unlike you, who still has to wait for a go signal from his person before he can bite."

          With a growl, Ivor tugged at her hair harder. "Did you know what Jarl told me before I left to go handle the mess you will try to stage here?" he hissed. "He said that the Lantsov Consigliere and Underboss are the ones keeping their Family upright. If they were the ones to go first, they would all crumble, and he planned to do just that." Ivor smiled wickedly, the kind that spoke of a triumph gotten from a dirty play. "Starting with your Consigliere. I wonder how things would be if the Don suddenly decides to get rid of him."

          She clenched her fists behind her, her fury burning cold in her blood. Nikolai was a lot smarter than the others give him credit for. There was never a dire situation that he hadn't gone through before—he could always find a way out of anything.

          But their current standpoint only struck fear and doubt to Zoya. He was in their enemy's nest, the place where they had the absolute authority on everything. She had been reluctant for him to go alone, and yet he had insisted, saying that he had a plan just in case something went wrong. 

          And now that there had been a hole in their planned attack, Zoya could only hope that his plan didn't involve him risking his life more than he already did. 

          She would come and drag him out of hell if needed to. 

          "I'm pretty sure your Consigliere would run out of ideas at some point," added Ivor thoughtfully. "Tonight might be the time."

          You can all dream. 

          Zoya gave a short laugh, and then she tipped her head back and struck Ivor's nose with her forehead. 

          The man shouted as he pushed back from her, dropping his knife and putting a hand up to his face. She quickly took the advantage and tipped the chair down sideways. Pain shot up to her side when she hit the floor, and her vision blacked out for a few moments. The blow to her head earlier only added to the dizziness that made her vision spin. But she shook the ache away and her hands felt around for the knife from the floor as the three men were still occupied with coddling their boss. 

          When she finally grasped the knife handle, she immediately tucked it to the insides of her sleeve before looking back up to Ivor. 

          Blood seeped through his fingers that were tightly holding his now broken nose, and his face was scrunched up in pain. Zoya felt a laugh bubble from her chest. 

          "Can't even take a hit, eh?" she called to Ivor, who only glared at her with a murderous glint in his eyes. "Come and train with our men, you'll learn how to brush off a punch to your jaw like it's merely dust." 

          Ivor let out an angry growl and started to walk his way to her again, but one of his Soldiers stopped him. 

          "There aren't any orders for us to kill her yet, sir," the Soldier said with finality. He looked a bit younger than the other men, but he  had a sway on them that even Ivor stopped to consider his actions. "We should be patient." 

          Zoya huffed silently. Another well-trained pup, then. 

          The door to the room suddenly opened, and another one of Jarl’s men appeared by the threshold. "Sir," he said, gesturing outside, "it's urgent." 

          Ivor sighed in frustration. He gave Zoya another pointed look before turning to one of his men again. "Get her up and keep a close eye on her," he said stiffly, still holding a hand to his nose. "I might finally be allowed to kill her after." 

          With one last low gaze to Zoya, he stomped off the storage room. She huffed in amusement as she watched the Caporegime's retreating form disappear by the doorway. 

          "Petty ass," she muttered. But when Ivor's footsteps finally receded, she slid out the knife from her sleeve and started to cut through the ropes.

          It was the younger Soldier that moved to lift her chair upright, his movements brusque and rough it made the pain on Zoya's side shoot up again.  

          "Easy with the moving, will you?" she hissed at the Soldier. 

          He sneered at her, pushing the chair roughly back down to its feet instead. "Witch," he hissed back, and Zoya had to laugh. The Soldier pointed the gun under her chin. "The only thing keeping me from firing is that the Don didn't want you dead just yet, and we're just waiting for the go signal." He pressed the barrel to her chin harder for emphasis. "Don't get too smug." 

          Men and their egos. "Sure thing, hon," said Zoya mildly with a shrug. 

          It seemed to be enough for the Soldier as he put down the gun and started to back off. But then ropes finally cut loose, and a smirk twitched at her lips. She kept her arms behind her and flipped the knife in her hand so that it pointed forward. 

          "Lapdog," she muttered, making sure the Soldier heard her. 

          And he did, because he suddenly stopped walking and turned to her again, a look of rage evident on his face. His jaw was set when he reached her again in a few quick strides. 

          He bent down and grabbed at her face. "What did you say, you—" 

          His next words came out in a gurgling mess when Zoya's hand shot up and pushed the knife into the man's throat. 

          She reached for the man's gun with her other hand just as the two other men noticed what was happening. She aimed and fired at the two of them before they could even raise their guns to shoot, and they crumpled to the ground with a thud. 

          The Soldier clawed at his neck desperately, his movements panicked. Zoya looked at him pitifully before yanking the knife out. The man fell to the ground. 

          She wiped her bloodied hand and knife to the squirming man's coat for a moment, staining the fabric blood red. His other hand still tried to reach for her ankle, but Zoya merely stepped away. 

          Then she pointed the gun to the Soldier's face. "For gunning down my men," she said before shooting him in the head. 

          He slumped to the ground, lifeless. Zoya winced at the sudden sting that pierced her side, and she almost doubled over. She checked her wound. The long line of the bullet graze was still oozing with blood, but much lesser than before. She would have to put up with it for now; she needed to have a talk with Ivor first. 

          Rushed footsteps echoed outside just as she neared the door. She immediately pressed herself against the wall beside the doorway and waited. A few moments later, the door barged open, and Ivor and another man came rushing in. 

          They hadn't noticed her yet, and Zoya sprang. 

          She raised her gun and shot the Soldier in the head. Ivor turned just as she aimed the gun to his thigh and pulled the trigger. He reared back with a shout, and Zoya swiped the gun up and whacked him across the face with the stock. Ivor crashed to the floor. 

          But when she finally got a closer look at the man's face, she realized it wasn't Ivor at all. The Soldier was only wearing the Caporegime's coat. 

          Zoya gritted her teeth as she pointed her gun to the man. "Where's Ivor?" she hissed. 

          He didn’t answer, and it made her anger flare even more. She put her finger closer to the trigger. 

          "Where—" 

          A crack of gunshot, and then a flash of excruciating pain on her other side just below her ribs. Zoya backed a few steps, dropping her gun and putting a hand to her side. When she checked on it after a moment, her palm was already covered in red. 

          "Miss me?" Ivor called out from the door. 

          Zoya didn’t have the strength to turn completely, and she crashed to the floor. The surroundings blurred into a mess of colors, the sudden flash of lights adding to the swaying of her vision. She put a hand to her wound, and she stifled a groan when another wave pain shot up to her body. 

          Ivor's figure appeared in her line of vision, his steps slow and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world. Zoya could only do as much as glare at the Caporegime, at the broken nose that had the faint traces of dried blood around it, and hoped for the Saints to give her enough strength to kill the guy right then. But her wishes were ignored and the pain only became worse. 

          "You think you could get out of my watch that easily?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I thought you were better than this."

          "Come closer and I'll show you," Zoya snarled. 

          "A real tough one, aren't you? Even as you lay dying, you can still make someone cower in fear." Ivor laughed loudly, and it was like the sound of a chair being scraped off a tiled floor. "I had to admit I was impressed on how you got that knife. That was neat."

          Zoya blinked. He had known? 

          As if he had heard her thoughts, Ivor chuckled darkly. "Oh, I did notice. That's why I staged a little dress up with one of my Soldiers here after the phone call. Always did the trick." 

          "Staged?" Zoya laughed, but it came out as a wheeze instead. "Did you really just use your men as bait just to kill me dramatically?" 

          "Ten points for Nazyalensky!" Ivor announced before raising his gun and pointing it at the Soldier he had made to wear his coat. "We're busted, unfortunately. Thank you for your service." Then he pulled the trigger. 

          Zoya winced at the sound of the dead body falling to the ground. She shook her head. "You're mad, Kravchenko." 

          "That, I am. But you know who's worse?" He bent down a little as if to tell some secret. Then he pointed two fingers at her. "You two." He paused to laugh again, and then he started pacing back and forth. 

          She took the small distraction to pull the handgun closer to her and hide it under her back. And when he stopped and stared back down at her, she noticed something strange. There was a wild look in his eyes, the deranged kind of glint of a paranoid man. 

          Ivor waved his gun carelessly in the air. "Oh, don't worry I finally have the order to kill you." 

          Zoya turned to her bad side slightly, bearing the pain that washed over her again and reaching for the gun she had hidden behind her. 

          "Worry not, Nazyalensky. You're going to meet your Consigliere soon," said Ivor. "The Don never planned to let your Consigliere get out of there alive, you know. The chance was too good to let it pass. He was a dead man the moment the Don accepted the meeting." 

          She knew Ivor was trying to get to her head, and she knew better that she shouldn't let it, but it was proving to be difficult when it was Nikolai’s safety being used against her. It was then she remembered this was what Ivor was known for—tormenting his enemies rights before he killed them. But Zoya knew to herself that she would have preferred physical torment than this. She wouldn't even have the chance to know if Nikolai was safe from any danger. 

          A bittersweet laugh bubbled from her chest. Even in near death circumstances, Nikolai was still her headache. She could only hope he would be able to get through tonight.

          Zoya gripped the gun tightly. She wouldn't this man torment her until her last breath. Not without bringing him down with me. 

          Ivor was seething when he was checking his gun chamber. Something was definitely wrong with him. Had something come up after that phone call? 

          "This is a payback to your Consigliere for acting stupidly. And for what he's done," he said and he shook his head, fury and annoyance evident on his face. "He's so going to pay for that. I can't wait to kill him myself—" He stopped abruptly and turned back to Zoya. "You'll meet him soon, Nazyalensky. Don't worry, I'll make it—" 

          With what's left of her strength, Zoya lifted her arm and fired at the Caporegime, emptying the whole gun's whole clip at him. Ivor convulsed with every bullet he took, his eyes wide in shock as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. 

          When the gun only gave a click, Zoya let her arm fall. A triumphant smirk twitched at her lips as she watched Ivor's bewildered expression. His hand fell limp at his side, and he looked down at the holes on his chest. 

          A scoff tore from his throat, and along with it came blood that leaked from his lips. His expression turned from shocked to angry in a blink. With a shaking hand, he pointed his gun back at her. "You witch—" 

          There was a crack of gunshot. Zoya closed her eyes and waited for the momentary pain before the end. 

          But it didn't come. 

          There was a loud thud, like the sound of a body falling to the floor, and she opened her eyes again. 

          Ivor lay on the floor, lifeless, his wide, empty eyes still open. Blood started to pool around his body all too quickly.

          "Zoya," a familiar voice said. 

          Through her blurry vision, Zoya could make out a figure of a woman approaching her in rush. Tamar. 

          She immediately held out her hand, and felt Tamar take it right away. The woman's other hand came to put pressure on her wound. "You're okay," Zoya said. Her breaths were starting to come out in short bursts. "Is Tolya—" 

          "He's fine, General, you should think of yourself first. Save your breath. You'll be fine." Tamar let go of her hand to pull out her phone. She dialled a number and started speaking to someone, but the words faded into echoes of distorted sounds. 

          A moment later Zoya heard Tamar's voice again. "Stay with me, Nazyalensky." She clasped at her hand, gripping it tightly as if it would give Zoya enough life again if she held on tighter. 

          Nikolai, Zoya wanted to ask her. Is he safe? 

          But the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming for her to stay awake, and she found her grip on Tamar's hand loosening with every ragged breath she drew. 

        Have I done enough? 

        She didn't know. 

        Be safe, idiot. 

        She took another breath. 

        Then everything went dark. 

***

Zoya opened her eyes. 

        Immediately, a dull throb washed over her body that almost made her pass out again, but the gentle touches she felt on her hand kept her anchored down to consciousness. She drew in a shaky breath. 

        She was still alive. She has survived the ordeal. Tamar and Tolya were safe too and—

        Nikolai. 

        Where was he? Was he alive? 

        Zoya turned to her right in haste, but she stopped when she spotted a mess of blond hair on her bedside. The grip on her hand tightened, and she felt her eyes sting. 

        He's okay. 

        "Hey," she said, voice still rough from sleep. 

        Nikolai instantly bolted upright. He looked like a mess, with his hair ruffled and the bruises and cuts on his face. There were traces of dried blood on the side of face down to his collar, his coat, and even on the edge of his sleeves. His hands were no different; the skin around his knuckles were torn open and red. But the worse one he got was his left ear—or what was left of it. He was tired and in pain, and yet he only had the look of utter relief and warmth in his eyes when he looked at her and smiled.

        There was an unexpected prick in her heart. Zoya wanted to reach out and hold him to her, to tell him that she was glad he was alive, but she couldn’t do anything of those as her body still felt heavy like lead due to the exhaustion and medication. 

        A tear fell down from his eye, and Nikolai quickly wiped it away with a tired laugh. Then he shifted closer, his hand reaching out to smooth the hair away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned against his touch almost immediately. 

        “You’re a mess, dear,” he said, his tone light with amusement. 

        Zoya huffed weakly. “You should see yourself.” She nodded at his state of dress. "It's not you to have your suit ruined like that." 

        “There’s always a first one, you know.” Nikolai gave her a wink. “Just not the thing I prefered. I can always throw it in the laundry, though.”

        “You, doing the laundry? I know you’ll break the washing machine first before you can get anything done,” she said, and Nikolai laughed lightly. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she laced their fingers together. What she expected to be a gentle touch was a trembling grip instead. His hand was badly shaking. Concern washed over her as she looked at him in worry. “Nikolai?”

        “I’m fine. I just—” Nikolai stopped. He laughed again, but it sounded more like a sob of relief instead. He shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. He still looked like he was about to break any moment, but it was gone in a blink and he put on his signature grin that brightened up his features. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry that much now, yeah?”

        Tears stung Zoya’s eyes again, and she smiled ruefully. I almost lost you too. But she covered it up with a smirk.  “They can’t get rid of me that easily.”

        "I know." 

        Silence fell around them. It was unusual for her to have a quiet as she was used to hearing all types of noises, whether it be the angry and rising tones during meetings or the gunfire that followed after when the negotiations went wrong. Even at nights, which was supposed to be when everything was in peace, were still haunted by the voices of the people who had died under her jurisdiction, and their blood was on her hands. 

        Having this moment struck dread to her, because good things, even the smallest ones, always came with a price. And she wasn't entirely sure if she was willing to give up anything. 

        "Do tell me your thoughts, dearest Zoya," Nikolai said, breaking the silence. He smiled as he continued his ministrations on her hair. "When you're quiet like that, I'm worried that you might be planning someone's death." 

        Zoya huffed. "How can you be sure that it wasn't your death I was planning?"

        Nikolai chuckled. "Please, you can't plan something that's already done," he said in amusement, and then his face fell after a second as if he realized what he just said. He smiled but it was half-hearted than his usual ones. "I like being one step ahead, you know." 

        "What happened, Nikolai?" she asked softly, not wanting to risk him shying away. Her hand tightened its hold on his. "What did you do?" 

        "I did what I had to do," he said simply. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he stared down at their joined hands. He rubbed circles around her skin, his touch feather light. "There was no other way."

        "Did you—" Zoya stopped. She didn't want to say it. She wanted to believe that if she didn't, it could change the truth. But the defeated look in his eyes only solidified the truth. 

        “Jarl Brum is dead," Nikolai said. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he looked back up at her. “He died when his compound had caught on fire due to faulty gas pipes. And the Lantsov Consigliere died with him in the fire. It’s what the people would hear by morning.” He paused, and breathed in deep. Then he smiled his usual grin again. “He put up quite a fight, though. It ruined my suit doing it. What a sad mess.”

        Zoya could only stare at him in melancholy. She didn’t even have the heart to answer his joke back. That was their last resort. They both agreed that if things had turned out the worst, he would have to settle with killing the Don. But that was before, when they thought that their plans were foolproof.

        I should have known and done better.

        Nikolai must have seen the look on her face, because he shook his head gently and his grin turned into a rueful one. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do that to yourself. I don't regret doing anything,” he said. He took her hand in both of his. “He was going to force me to hand over the Lantsovs to them, saying he’ll have you killed if I don’t. It was a deadend. There was no guarantee they won’t hurt you even if I agree. And I was never going to sell us over, anyway.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'd rather get hurt a thousand times more than lose you." 

        A tear finally fell from the side of her eye. If this was the price she had to pay for having this moment with him, she did not want it. She would give up anything else to pay the price. Just not this. Not him. 

        “So, I guess this is our last night together,” Zoya said, her voice breaking slightly. 

        His hand reached up to her face and wiped the tear with his thumb. There were also tears clouding his eyes. He nodded gently, the sad smile still on his lips. Zoya leaned in his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I promise to annoy you to death so you would have enough spite for me to last in a long while.”

        Zoya huffed in amusement. She had never hated him so much than she did now. How could he make it sound so easy when he was going to leave? “I already have enough spite to last for the rest of my life.”

        Nikolai laughed back. “That’s good to hear.” 

        Another short silence filled the air, and Zoya looked him over. If it was the last time she would see him, she wanted to bask in the warmth radiating in his eyes and remember all the quirks he had, as if she hadn’t memorized everything about him before. 

        She lifted her hand slightly, and Nikolai went to hold it back in his. He turned his attention to her forearm, tracing the dark lines of the tattooed dragon on her skin. It felt like he was doing the same, memorizing a distinct feature of her that he would carry with him.

        “I’ve always thought this one’s cooler than my wolf one,” he said softly, running his fingers on her skin. “You always get cooler ones than me.”

        “Where would you go?” Zoya asked instead.

        Nikolai stopped his ministrations, his fingers coming back to lace with hers. “It would be better if no one knew,” he replied solemnly. “Besides, I wouldn’t stay in one place for long.” 

        Zoya took a deep breath. This was their reality, and she should know better than lament over it. She wasn’t the type to let emotions take over her. But for Nikolai Lantsov, she would always be willing to make an exception.

        “Maybe I can mail something from time to time,” he said. “Postcards and pictures, how do you feel about that?”

        “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

        Her Consigliere chuckled lightly. “No, I am entirely serious.” He shrugged. “Mail is the safest thing to get something across without the risk of being traced.”

        Zoya shook her head with a light laugh. I’d take anything. “Whatever you say, corn salad,” she said, and Nikolai laughed. A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over through her. The medicine must be taking its effects now. No, not yet. A few more minutes. “When do you leave?” 

        A beat, and then Nikolai said, “Soon.” An amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You don’t have to be so excited.”

        “Idiot,” she mumbled. There was a twinge in her chest with the nickname she had of him, knowing that it would be the last time she could tell it to him in person. 

        Nikolai tightened his hold on her hand, and she felt it trembling again. His eyes were bright with tears when he said, “I’ll miss that nickname.” I’ll miss you, was what never said aloud, but Zoya heard it all the same.  

        I’ll miss you too. Zoya gave him a small smile. “Just look at the engraving in your lighter, it will remind you.” Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she found her eyes drooping slightly. 

        Zoya heard him laugh softly, making her blink to shake the drowsiness away. Nikolai reached up to brush at the hair on her forehead again. 

        “Go get some more rest,” he said. His hand came down to her cheek, and he gently caressed her skin with his thumb. “Don’t fight it, I know you’re still tired.”

        "I'm not tired," she grumbled back. 

        "Whatever you say, dear."

        Her eyes were starting to feel too heavy for her to stay awake, but she still fought the drowsiness from taking over so she could still see him for a little more time. 

        "Go rest," he said again. 

        Zoya squeezed his hand. She was never the first one to ask. To their world, everything was a trade—you give and take. A request meant a desperate wish, and you should always be willing to pay the price. 

        But she had already paid for it, and it was only fair if she wished for one final request. Be it a selfish, impossible kind. 

        "Stay?" she asked. Even just for a moment longer. "You've always made a good bodyguard." 

        Nikolai smiled softly. I can't, was what his eyes said, and yet, aloud, he still said, "Of course." He tucked the blankets higher to her shoulders, his movements gentle and careful. "Now go back to sleep. I'll be here."

        They both knew it was a lie. 

        Zoya closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't bear seeing him leave, and she'd rather have him do it while she was asleep. 

        Then he started humming. His shitty, off-tune humming. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with silent sobs, her eyebrows drawn tight together to keep her tears from falling. But they still did, anyway. 

        She felt him press his lips to her knuckles, and small droplets fall against her skin. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that it was his tears. 

        "Good night, Nikolai," Zoya whispered in a shaky tone. Farewell. Be safe. 

        A short, heavy silence, and she heard him draw a ragged breath. "Good night, Zoya." Goodbye, Zoya. 

        His voice and the feel of his hand tight in hers were the last things she knew before sleep took over her. 

        And when Zoya finally slept, she dreamed that she would never have to let him go. 

***

News about the death of the Brum Don because of the fire that caught his compound was heard early on the next morning. Television news, radio, newspapers, and even the social media boomed with the word, and it spread like wildfire. 

        It went even bigger when the Lantsov Consigliere was also reported to have died along the fire, with all the current evidence proving that the fire had been intentional. But none of them pointed to Nikolai. The investigation was still open, and it will probably go on for quite a while. The only thing that lightened the burden on Zoya’s chest was knowing that he was alive. He had known how things would go beforehand, and made sure that none of them ended up implicating the Lantsovs.

        Always the well-prepared one.

        The chair where Nikolai had sat last night was empty, as if he wasn’t there at all. The only traces left of him was the lingering scent of his perfume and the dip on her bedside where he had laid his arms on as he watched her with all the warmth in his eyes, the same warmth he took with him when he left.

        Zoya felt her eyes sting with unwanted tears again as she looked out the window, but this time she didn’t try to keep them from falling. She smiled ruefully, a bittersweet feeling left in her heart. It was probably bad fate that had them cross paths, and it was also what separated them. But either way, it was still what had brought them together. She was thankful for that somehow, even if they only had limited time.

        But then it struck her, that it didn’t always have to be fate that should handle things. She was the Lantsov Underboss, the one who drove the saintsforsaken Family out of the mud with the Consigliere. If there was something they were good at, it was handling things their own way and bending the odds to their will.

        A near death experience had her questioning herself if she had done enough. She didn’t know the answer by then, but she did now.

        I am not done yet.

        She wouldn’t give up on Nikolai that easily. Even if it took her years to do it. She would bring him back. 

        Because she knew he would do the same for her. 

        I’ll see you again, Nikolai, she vowed. And it wouldn’t be the last. 

        Zoya would make sure of it.

***

A/N: if you’ve reached this far, please know i appreciate you ;-;

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,945 Words

Summary: Five worried members of class 1-B and a day off for the hero courses.

Warnings: Cursing, Injury Mention, Caps, Death Mention, Broken Bone Mention, Panic Attack Mention, Abuse Mention, Disownment Mention, Blood Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison  Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 4

2:55 PM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: @feral cat dad @gay salt @farmer toshi @foil-mecha @ranch flavored jello

nat20: Are you guys okay? There was an announcement for all available staff to come to the USJ asap. Isn't that where you are?

nat20: Guys?

nat20: I get that y'all are training but can one of you answer? I'm getting worried.

nat20: Akemi, sis, you better fucking answer me.

3:00 PM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: Akemi, this is breaking law three of being half-siblings. Getcha ass in the chat and fucking respond to me or I'm taking a protective quirk and coming down there myself.

saviour: You will do no such thing. Clearly it's dangerous since the announcement was directed toward all available teachers. That doesn't sound normal to me, even if someone had been just injured. Seiko, it's best to try to make things decently safe for their return instead of hound a response.

life is a nightmare: Six different news sources say that three unidentified people were admitted to a hospital nearby UA, said to have been transported from the USJ, which was attacked this morning by an unidentified villain, the attack being resolved by UA's pro hero staff members only ten minutes ago. Two more people were injured and are supposedly in Recovery Girl's office.

nat20: AKEMI @gay salt

gay salt is now online

ranch flavored jello is now online

foil-mecha is now online

gay salt: I'm back, Seiko. I'm fine. Almost everyone is fine.

nat20: Five people are hurt!

ranch flavored jello: Yeah, all three pros were hurt.

nat20: Which students got hurt!?

foil-mecha: I think you already know what you're suspecting, Seiko.

nat20: No. No, he's not dead. If Shinsou's dead, I'll personally bring him back to life to scream at him. My little brother isn't dying dammit.

gay salt: Not dead, mon dieu. Shinsou is severely injured but he isn't dead.

nat20: Who else is hurt? That green kid again?

ranch flavored jello: Yeah, Midoriya's hurt again. To be fair, he wasn't thinking about how he was using his quirk, just that he was using it period.

foil-mecha: Hold on, they're calling on Aizawa and Shinsou's condition, I'll do a video chat with you guys.

foil-mecha has started a video chat

The bones in his arms are splintered and he's got facial fracturing. Fortunately there doesn't seem to be any serious brain damage. But his orbital floor has been almost completely destroyed. We have no way of knowing if his eyesight will be impaired or not once he's healed. -Unknown

Well, you heard the man. -Unknown

Sir, what about Thirteen? -Unknown

No need to worry there, despite some pretty bad lacerations to the back, Thirteen is gonna pull through good as new. And AllMight is also without any serious injuries. He's in the nurse's office right now. Recovery Girl's power should be all that he needs.-Unknown

What about Deku!? -Unknown

How's Midoriya? -Unknown

Midoriya? Oh, Recovery Girl was taking care of him too. He's fine.-Unknown

How is Shinsou!? -nat20

Who was that? -Unknown

My half-sibling, we both live in the dorms with Shinsou and Aizawa. They're worried about them. So is the rest of the class 1-B students that live in the dorms with us. -gay salt

Shinsou has a mild concussion, a severe bruised nasal bone, and his jawbone was fractured so he needs to have his jaw wired shut for a bit until he's back to being strong enough for Recovery Girl to heal him. He should be better in about a week or two.-Unknown

What the fuck happened to him that he got that badly hurt? -life is a nightmare

During the villain attack, Shinsou decided to fight alongside Mr. Aizawa. against the villains and this big monster thing was hurting Mr. Aizawa and this creepy guy was about to hurt Asui, Mineta, and Midoriya. -ranch flavored jello

Call me Tsu. -Unknown

Tsu, Mineta, and Midoriya. But Shinsou got the creepy guy to respond to him with the mist guy's voice and he brainwashed him. Then the monster hit his face into the ground really hard. But he covered Mr. Aizawa with his own body and got his face hit down again. -ranch flavored jello

Shinsou was really out of it, ribbit. He was calling Mr. Aizawa his dad.-Unknown

Tsu, Mr. Aizawa legally adopted Shinsou as of 8 o'clock this morning. -ranch flavored jello

I'm gonna hang up, we're all gonna head back. I'll visit you Seiko. -gay salt

You better. -nat20

gay salt has ended the video chat

2:40 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi is now online

farmer toshi: WHY CANT I TALK WHATS HAPPENING WHERE AM I

life is a nightmare: Shit, I'll shadow over, hold on, Shinsou.

2:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

life is a nightmare: shinsousleepingagainsther.jpg

life is a nightmare: Guess I'm claiming he's my boyfriend when they ask why I'm here because I can't even shadow out right now without waking him up.

gay salt: rip to you, Kageya, but me and Seiko need our beauty sleep.

nat20: so go to sleep, Kageya, you need to sleep.

2:16 PM

Existence Is A Prison

saviour: I'm pre-making some easy meals since they both have facial damage and need softer foods.

farmer toshi: What are you making?

saviour: Well, I have Seiko working on frozen smoothie bags. Kiyomi is helping precook some vegetables and stuff that can be blended down to baby food consistency. Pony's really good at making homemade juice so she's making you juice with lots of protein and stuff so you don't loose too much weight and set your progress back.

ranch flavored jello: Me, Akemi, and Fumikage are making soft food for you both once Toshi gets his wires off. We've been making a lot of soup. We may have gone overboard.

ranch flavored jello: So far we have chicken soup, broccoli and cheese, potato soup, split pea soup, egg drop soup, cheese soup, soft curry, corn chowder, turkey rice soup, ham chowder, cheeseburger soup, creamy meatball soup, chicken cordon bleu soup, chicken pot pie soup, and and miso soup.

farmer toshi: You guys are so sweet. Thank you so much. I wish I could hug you guys right now but they want me in the hospital today for observation.

gay salt: I expect a hug when you come home.

feral cat dad is now online

nat20: DAD'S BACK!

feral cat dad: Hello, dorm children. This is Mr. Yamada, Mr. Aizawa told me to tell you all thank you for making him and Hitoshi food for when they come back on Friday.

pure: It was nothing! We want to help them get better as fast as possible and, to do that, we need to keep them healthy!

feral cat dad: I'll add myself so Shouta can have his phone back.

feral cat dad has added Yamada

farmer toshi has changed Yamada's name to President Megaphone

nat20: Wow, you don't waste a second, do you?

farmer toshi: I didn't when I was attacking villains in the USJ.

schrodinger better run: What happened in there, by the way? My phone went missing yesterday and the day before and I finally found it last night.

farmer toshi: Well, you see, some wannabe criminals calling themselves the League of Villains teleported themselves into the USJ just before we were about to start training and our communal father figure was about to go fight them and all my instinct just told me to follow him so I did.

President Megaphone: Kid, you really don't have to tell them just because you live with them.

farmer toshi: These are basically my adopted siblings, Mr. Yamada. Of course I want to tell them.

farmer toshi: Anyway, so I was fighting thugs and Dad had already gotten to this "Shigaraki" dude who was like their leader or whatever and the fucker decayed his right elbow and I was trying hard to get to him but the fucking cronies wouldn't let me by them.

farmer toshi: Then this huge fucking monster grabbed Dad and hit him into the ground and broke his arms. That thing couldn't be human, it's brain was out and it was like 9 feet tall.

farmer toshi: That Shigaraki fucker spoke to me. I can't even remember what about, but he was mocking me, I can tell. But the teleporter told him they needed to leave because Iida had made it out by that point.

farmer toshi: So this fucker tries to decay either Midoriya, Asui, or Mineta to "break AllMight". But I used the teleporter's voice to brainwash him and that monster hit my head into the ground like he did with Dad for brainwashing its friend.

farmer toshi: I knew Dad was out because the thing had hit his head into the ground again and knocked him out and that thing would try to hurt him again if I didn't do something. So I put myself on top of him because I couldn't lose a Dad I just finally got. But the monster hit my head down again.

farmer toshi: I had finally managed to get up to get me and Dad out of there when AllMight showed up. AllMight put us on a stair landing and I had to get up the rest of the way. Another villain tried to get us while I was getting him up there to get out but I just stabbed her and pushed her down the stairs.

farmer toshi: Mind you, I was running on adrenaline this whole time. So, when the UA teachers came in, I was pretty numb emotionally because I was basically out of steam but I wanted to get Dad out of there so I kept going until Sero and Uraraka helped me up the rest of the stairs while the teachers got there.

farmer toshi: I'm pretty sure Snipe is who caught me but then I just passed out and woke up in the hospital not being able to speak and had a panic attack.

feral cat dad: I've figured out speech to text and I appreciate what you did for me, Hitoshi, but I was worried about you when that thing had me. I don't want you dying to protect me.

farmer toshi: Trust me, I don't plan to nearly die again. The headache was killer and I'd rather never experience that again.

feral cat dad: Good. Now, make sure you rest, kids.

2:15 AM

private chat with Bakugou and Yamada

Bakugou: Look, I know it's late, but my mother kicked me out and she's disowned me because she now wants me to drop from UA and I won't do it. I need somewhere to stay and I know Aoyama and them were talking about dorms yesterday after the USJ incident.

Yamada: It doesn't matter if it's ideal. Head to the school, I'll come get you inside and we'll go for your stuff from your parents' house tomorrow after school and I'm putting a rush order for emergency UA protection for your custody right now.

Bakugou: I think I need Recovery Girl, she got my arms pretty bad. I'm losing blood like crazy and I can barely grab things to keep going but my leg is sprained so I need help moving.

Yamada: We can worry about healing injuries once you're here. Until then, just be safe and get here as fast as you can. If you can't make it here, then I'll come get you.

Yamada: Just keep responding, little listener. How bad are your injuries?

Bakugou: bloodyleftarm.jpg

Bakugou: bloodyrightarm.jpg

Bakugou: sprainedknee.jpg

Bakugou has sent their location

Yamada: Fuck.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust 

[gothgirlmahi]

All That’s Best (Chapter One)

Dark!Steve x Reader

Masterlist

So this is Chapter 1, I’m making a part 2 and 3 to my story Selfish so the second part of that will probably be my next update. If you wanna be tagged in all my stories or just this one please send an ask and enjoy reading :)

Chapter 1

The process of taking you and getting you in his car was easier than it should have been. Steve recalled that you liked to open your window during the morning as you cooked breakfast. He also recalled that he never saw you lock it. As luck would have it, that was the only window you had that was unlocked. And it was his way in.

When he stepped into your apartment he could hear your soft breaths coming from your bedroom. You were asleep. He crept in silently as not to wake you.

He had only been in your apartment twice, the first time was while you were at work. He installed a few cameras and mics for audio. Just so he could be sure you were okay when he couldn’t physically be there. The second visit was after catching you having some personal time with a bullet vibrator. You hand was down your panties as you held it to yourself and the other was groping your breast. He wondered what you were thinking about as you came and hoped it was him. After you were done, you threw your panties in the hamper and he snuck in to take them. They smelled like you and definitely helped him curb some of his more carnal urges towards you.

Your bedroom was a bit Spartan. Very basic and not many hints of the exuberant personality you had shown him. He knew you had moved in rather recently but he had to wonder why you never decorated more. There was a cute little elephant figurine on your nightstand that he remembered seeing you buy at an open air market in the city.

That was okay. He’d let you decorate however you wanted when you moved in together. Hopefully the process of it wouldn’t be too hard. Of course he expected initial resistance but he could get you to love him. You had to.

The idea of sedating you pained him so he did it quickly, jabbing the needle in your arm and letting go. Your eyes shot open for the briefest of moments before your body went completely slack and unconscious. Steve placed a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling you over his shoulder. He was an expert at stealth so getting you into the car and into his house was no issue. 

He smiled to himself. It was all coming together.

Your mind was alight with worry as soon as your eyes fluttered open. There was the memory of...something happening. You weren’t quite sure what, but you woke up in an unfamiliar room, on an unfamiliar bed so something had definitely happened. Your skin was damp with sweat and your head was banging. Your wrists were sore and bound to the headboard with rope. Instinctively you tugged at them and realized they didn’t have much give.

Panic set in.

You had obviously been kidnapped. For reasons you couldn’t even speculate about. It didn’t make sense. The fact that you were tied to a bed didn’t exactly quell your fears about your captor’s intentions.

The door swung open and you blinked in surprise.

Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers was standing there looking nonplussed with his hands casually in his pockets as he looked over you. Any relief you felt at first seeing him vanished when you took in his body language. Then confusion set in because this didn’t make sense.

“Untie me. Please.” It was worth a shot. He just chuckled and sat next to you. 

“I’m glad you’re awake, sweetheart. I know this is confusing for you. I brought you here because I love you. I can protect you. I’ll provide for you. I’ll be a good husband. You’ll never have to work again. All you have to do is—“

You tugged on your restraints again and Steve’s face fell.

“Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself like that.”

“What the hell is going on?!”

A flurry of theories went through your head along with your fear and paranoia. Steve Rogers has kidnapped you. He was absolutely deranged. Maybe he was some kind of blood psychopath and wanted to kill you. Maybe a cannibal? He was definitely looking at you like he wanted to eat you. That train of thought normally would have made you giggle to yourself but you were too scared to find any humor in the situation.

You weren’t sure if the truth was worse than him being a killer or a cannibal. Steve Rogers had convinced himself he was in love with you. And he wasn’t planning on letting that love fade or taking things slow. He wanted to be your husband. You barely knew this man. You had gone on one date and now you were chained up in his house. 

“I’ve been thinking. I came to the conclusion that the only way I can keep you safe is if you’re with me. I know this is sudden, but it works out well for both of us. I’m devoted to you. More than you could possibly know. One day I want you to be my wife. I want you to have my kids. I’ll take care of you. We’ll be a family and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to set him off but he was also looking at you waiting for a response. A little whimper left your lips and you tried to stretch your arms as best you could in their increasingly uncomfortable position.

“Steve, I don’t know what you want me to say.” There was definitely an attempt on your part or remain calm. Or to, at the very least, look calm.

“That’s okay. You’ll learn. Now let’s talk about rules. You—”

“Rules?”

“One of the rules is don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking. I’ll give you a pass this once because you didn’t know yet. If you don’t follow the rules I give you, you’ll be punished. On that note, when I speak to you or ask you a question I expect a response. It’s only polite.

“You do what I say, when I say it. I don’t want any back talk. This is my house and what I say goes. Do not attempt to leave this house. Even on the off chance you could escape, I would just find you and you won’t like what I do when I bring you back. So let’s not have that happen. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, shaking in your restraints. The sight of you made Steve sigh, looking a bit sad. He ran his hands through his hair.

“I didn’t want to do this. I just need to know that you’re safe. I know you’re scared, but I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to take care of you.”

You stared at him for a while. He inched closer to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Steve, my hands are going numb,” you said. He looked up at the restraints and back to you.

“If I untie you, will you be good? No kicking, fighting, screaming?

”You nodded. What could you do anyway? It wasn’t like you could beat up Captain America. Steve reached and loosened the ropes, letting your numb wrists fall limply to the side. A quick glance around had you noticing the lack of windows and stifling air in the room. You were probably in a basement. The bedroom was well furnished. Paint smelled a little fresh.

There were three doors. Hazarding a guess, you could assume one was probably a bathroom, at least one of them led to the rest of the basement and one might have been a walk in or another room. In the corner there was a vanity with makeup and beauty products out on it. Next to it was a rack of shoes of various types, pumps, tennis shoes, ballet flats, even a pair of black Mary Janes. A very familiar painting was hung on the wall. A simple scene of a field of flowers that you saw during your gallery date. It had cost a good bit of money but you had really liked it and you said as much to Steve. So why was it here?

Steve couldn’t have meant it for you. There had to be something else. Maybe a female roommate could explain all the products. But that didn’t make any sense either. If he was really as devoted as he claimed, maybe it was all for you. After all, he did intend to keep you here.

You turned away from the objects in the room and looked back to Steve. He was staring at you, face blank and unreadable.

“Do you like it?” he asked evenly. You didn’t know how to reply. You didn’t even know what was going on. When you hesitated in your response, Steve grabbed your thigh in warning.

“I don’t understand,” you sputtered out eventually. He nodded and smiled.

“Your room. Do you like it?”

“I—what? Steve, that painting was fifteen thousand dollars.”

“When you told me you liked it, I bought it immediately. I want you to like your room. When you move upstairs maybe we can put it in the living room.”

“Upstairs?”

“After you learn to trust me and love me and after I know I can trust you, I’ll take you upstairs and we can be a normal couple. For now I need to keep you here. Until I know you won’t make a break as soon as you get a chance. Hopefully soon. Are you hungry? I know it’s been a while since you ate.”

The room felt like it was closing in on you. Steve meant to keep you here. Long term, locked in his basement until he made you love him.

“I’m not hungry.” Your stomach was doing flips and you didn’t need to add vomiting to your list of problems. Steve looked disappointed.

“I’ll bring you something anyway. Just try to eat. I may have gone a little overboard with the sedatives, I didn’t mean to make you sick.”

Now that he mentioned sedatives you realized how weak your body felt. Even if you tried to get out of bed, you weren’t sure you could. Although you were literally laying down, you were still dizzy and slow in processing what was happening. It was past time for you to start screaming and crying but all you could do was lay there and resist the urge to dry heave. Steve got up and pointed to each of the doors.

“Bathroom, closet and this is to the rest of your space. There’s a TV you can watch and some books. I got you a desk and lots of paper for you to write. I’ll try to run out and get you some more books soon.”

You just stared at him. What was there to say? This was unbelievable. Your brain was foggy and you felt like you weren’t processing quickly enough. It was high time that you started screaming and attempting to fight your way out. That’s what kidnapped people usually did right? You could barely muster the energy to move let alone fight so you laid there staring at the wall, staring at Steve and trying to understand what the fuck was going on. 

Steve was conflicted. Since you woke up you were mostly calm and compliant. Your eyes were a bit glazed and unfocused as he talked to you. He could tell the sedatives were still in effect because you could barely move your arms or legs. You launched yourself from the bed with a surprising strength and he went after you until he saw you were headed for the bathroom. Your knees hit the floor and you emptied the contents of your stomach into the bowl. Steve grimaced. 

He could hit himself. This was not going according to plan. Ideally he would have brought you here, explained the rules, dealt with whatever resistance you had and fed you dinner. He had been prepared for you to yell and scream and hit him. Now you were just in the bathroom throwing up. You couldn’t even cling to him as he carried you back to bed, just weakly grasped and pawed at his shirt.

He looked at you, helpless before him. It would be too easy. He could take you right now and there would be nothing you could do about it. It wasn’t like you could win a fight against him on any other day either, but now you wouldn’t be able to resist at all.

Steve didn’t want your first time to be like this. He wanted you reactive and lively even if it was due to your resistance. For now he would just take care of you, get you healthy again so he could properly make love to you.  The way your wet skin clung to your tank top only tempted him but he swore he would hold back.

Against your better judgement, you fell asleep. Whatever he had given you was still hitting you hard. 

Your eyes fluttered open to a darkened room. A small lamp burned dimly in the corner. You were propped up against a warm mass and you panicked, remembering where you were and what happened. When you turned to look down at him Steve was already awake and smiling at you.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay? Feeling any better?”

“I don’t know. I’m so tired.”

“Go back to sleep, baby girl. I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

You blinked and your eyes went down both of your bodies until your eyes were on Steve’s erection which was pressed into your ass. He pulled you closer to him and grinded against you slowly.

“Go to sleep,” he demanded. You looked up at him with wide eyes. His hand came up to squeeze at your breast and you tried to wiggle out of his grasp. He held you firmly in his arms.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“Shh.”

You knew it was risky and you knew there was no way to get away from him at the moment. He was stronger than you but you were determined. Mustering all of the limited strength you had, you pushed yourself away from him and only managed to roll to the other side of the bed. Steve pulled you back, pushing you on your back and kneeled between your legs.

He held your arms down with both of his hands.

“I told you to go to sleep.”

“Steve, let me go! You fucking psychopath!” You screamed and thrashed around as best you could which wasn’t much. It only served to make Steve more angry.

“Oh, I’m a psycho? I brought you here to keep you safe. You want me to hurt you? Is that what you want?”

“I want you to let me go!”

“I can’t do that, sweetheart.”

He let you go and ripped your tank top off, throwing it across the room. You screamed and hit against him to no avail. Steve groaned, reaching down to bite into the side of your breast. He ground his clothed cock into your flimsy panties.

Steve quickly undressed, still managing to hold you down with his weight. He resumed grinding against you and you screamed for him to let you go. He angled himself to move against your clit and kept going until he felt a wet spot on your panties. You were mortified, knowing that you shouldn’t be reacting like this but here you were absolutely dripping for your captor and Steve thrived on it.

He let out a low chuckle before pulling your ruined panties off of you.

“I want our first time to be good for both of us. If you start fighting me, I won’t hesitate to tie you down and fuck you like that. Do you understand?”

You nodded with wide eyes. Steve smiled.

“Good.”

He flipped you to lay on your stomach and pulled your hips toward him. The quick movement made you dizzy and you grabbed onto a pillow to bury your face into. Seconds later he was slamming his entire length into you, until his hips met your ass. You whimpered from the pain and he leaned over you, petting your hair.

“I know it hurts, sweetheart. I’m sorry, it’ll be over soon.”

Steve knew the pain was subsiding when you weren’t shaking as badly. He gave a few shallow thrusts, brushing against a spot that made you moan and tighten around his length. He pulled back and aimed for it again. The noises you made spurred him on and he was picking up a quick rhythm within seconds.

You couldn’t help the way your body was reacting to him. He knew that and counted on it. With his sweet little doll face down and ass up on the bed for him, he was in the perfect position to do exactly what he wanted. Dominate you. Humiliate you. Prove you were his. Prove that you needed him. 

“That’s it, sweetheart.”

You had lost all fight and laid there pliant while he used you. His hand between your legs had you shaking and pushing back against him.

“I love to see you enjoying yourself. Being such a good girl for me.”

Your moans were muffled by the bed sheets as you grasped at them mindlessly. The loud wet noises of your coupling filled the room. Steve held you in place as your legs shook, pulling you close to get as deep as he could.

“That’s it, baby girl. Is daddy making your pussy feel good? This is what happens when you let me take care of you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

Your vision went white as you spasmed around him, pulling on the sheets underneath you. The entirety of your body trembled erratically as you came, pushing your hips fervently against his thick cock. The wetness on the inside of your thighs dripped onto the bed and you bit into the pillow trying to stop yourself from screaming. Even after you came down a bit, you were still delirious for him, moaning mindlessly.  

“Ah, fuck.” He growled and leaned over you, his mouth to your ear as he pushed deeply into you.

”I’m gonna put a baby in you. I’m gonna make you a mommy. My pretty girl is gonna give me a baby.”

You squirmed around again, trying to get away. Steve held you tightly and pushed you further into the bed.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you said, but your voice was mostly muffled by the mattress. Steve kissed your neck.

“I know. God, I know.”

The bed creaked and hit the wall with how hard he was fucking you.

“Ah, fuck. I won’t last much longer. You’re gonna come for me one more time.”

“I can’t. Steve, stop, I can’t.” The pillow you held onto was now stained with your tears as you approached your climax once more. Steve was relentless. Your legs were numb and useless at this point so Steve’s strength was the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the mattress. 

He put his lips to your neck and smirked.

“You will.” He had an arm firmly around your waist while he fucked you and the other one playing with your clit. It was more pain than pleasure but you could feel your orgasm coming whether you wanted it or not. Your legs shook as you came, screaming your orgasm into the humid air. Steve moaned above you and pumped a few more times before his hot seed exploded inside you. 

He pulled out of you slowly. You could feel his cum oozing out of you and his your face further into the sheets. His fingers were suddenly in you, stuffing it back in and you yelled out from the overstimulation. You reached back to stop him but he pushed your hands against your back roughly.

“Uh uh. Bad girl. You’re mine. This pussy is mine and I do what I want with it.”

Steve pulled his hand out of you and laid on his back, pulling you against him. Before you could try to pull away, he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Now go to sleep.”

Taglist

@xoxabs88xox @princessdancingonthesunshine @sllooney @americasass81 @shippers-heart @villanellevi

Masterlist // Chapter Two

[horror-game-fanatic]

Perks (Survival Horror Manual)

So I have come up with a preliminary list of perks for the system. I admit I may have gone a bit overboard, and have sat on it for a few days to see if I could trim it down. I’ll post what I have and we will see what comes of it.

So each tree is broken up by its base stat (STR,DEX, CON, etc...) and each tree has ten beginning perks. Each one of those perks have three upgrades inside of it that players can put points into to obtain as they level up. As we discussed earlier, points are given by level, experience, and especially (and most importantly) by their level of involvement. It is important for the DM to acknowledge the players that are doing the most to enrich the story and reward them accordingly. Points given by DM’s can be used in any stat, but all previous rules must still apply. Also, alot of the perks will have prerequisites; like having a base stat level a certain amount or you must have already have another perk in order to obtain a perk. Right now all perks and upgrades cost points, which was outlined in the previous post. The first level will only cost 1 point, the second level will cost 2, the third will cost 3, and the fourth will cost 4. It will take 10 points to obtain the whole tree for a perk, which doesn’t sound alot at first but if you take into consideration that some perks require you to have other perks and you only can use the points in that base stat then it will take a few levels to get what the player wants. And thats okay. We want the players to be involved, get rewarded, but we also want the players to remember that this game is meant to kill you. Regardless of how many perks you have, the survival in survival horror is still very prominent and MUST be taken into consideration when rewarding your players. 

Like I said, I will just give the main perk first in each list. I am still working on the upgrades and how they all balance out with each other.

STRENGTH: Combat Training / Athletics / Iron Fist / Endless Anger / Harden / Heavy Handed / Juggernaut / Short Wire / Give. It. Back. / Revenge

DEXTERITY: Focus / Stealth / Acrobatics / Dead Eye / Guntastic / Click. Click. Boom / Magic Fingers / Trespass / Relentless / High Velocity

CONSTITUTION: Impact / Defense / Health Pack / Assault / Shotgun Expert / Rapid Barrage / Stockpile / Fitness / Pain Insensitive / Heavy Picker-Upper

INTELLIGENCE: Books! / Investigation / Mechanics / Technology / Trap Extraordinaire / Combat Tactics / Know When to Throw ‘Em / Crafty / Insomniac / Analyze

 WISDOM: Survival / Herbalist / Clarity / Poison Control / Animals-R-Us / Intuition / Supply Drop / Medic! / Out For Blood / Ransack

CHARISMA: Coercion / Hard To Get / Killer Queen / Decepticon / Sticky / Assemble! / NIGH Diamond! / Action Hero / Endowed / Lucky #7

Pretty interesting list, huh? Each stat has ten perks and each perk will have three upgrades. A separate list of perks will also be added, but I haven’t finalized that list yet. It will have a larger list but each perk will also cost alot more. They are for more action horror themed games and also up to the DM’s discretion of whether they are allowed or not. As the game gains popularity, I will also add supplements and tweaks to the perks list so that characters can have more freedom to build as they want. 

I will detail each perk more properly in a later post, as well as list the upgrades. For now, what do you think? Is the perk list too much? Should we eliminate it all together? I took inspiration from Dead By Daylight, How To Survive, as well as Borderlands and Dragon Age. I liked the idea of how a player can build a character with buffs but still be a human being. Do not think that this list makes characters too fantastical or more powerful. They will still be squishy humans ready for the slaughter. This idea just let them feel like they have more... control. You want them to have a false sense of security, you know. 

The meat tastes better if you flavor it.

[sandersidess]

Partners in Crime

Guess who did this in like twenty minutes?! Hi hi!!!! So I did go a bit tiny overboard, but I am proud of this and if you guys want to add on, then go ahead! I would love to see your own input and any like future decisions. So this is Royality! Oh and I wrote this on mobile.

A/N: This was supposed to be up about three hours ago, but tumblr fucked me up as always

TW: Murder (multiple), A lot of blood, mention of gun and knife, bombs, mutilated bodies, Dark Roman and Patton, ASK TO TAG

tag: @smarterthaneveryoneelse @scarletsaphire @sanderssides-corner @peri-shns-brght @fandoms-are-a-gift-of-chuck @howtobetrash-org @internetwhy @cjcipher234

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Roman looks at Patton and holds his hand, kissing his wedding ring. Patton looks over and smiles softly, humming and squeezed his hand gently. They both stare at each other, kissing each other and Roman made sure it was a passionate kiss.

“I love you,” Patton whispers once they break the kiss, holding the dagger in one hand.

“I love you too,” Roman smiles softly, holding his custom pistol, and leans his forehead against him, “Don’t die on me. Got it?”

“Shut up, Prince,” Patton giggles and puts on his mask after giving a final kiss.

“The couple being called the modern Natural Born Killers have hit the town of Mesa, Arizona! They have killed the owner of a jewelry shop and then killed a well renowned family. The suspects who have only been identified by the last name Prince and Love are at large and police urge citizens to stay safe! Lock your doors, install alarms and do not engage if you see them! Here are what we suspect how they look like, so I repeat, do not engage this duo! They are highly dangerous and will kill! Back to you Steve-“

Patton hums happily and stares up into Roman’s eyes as they dance to the piano music playing in the house. Roman gives him his ever charming smile, keeping a hand on his lower back. He kisses the bloody hand he’s holding, both ignoring the ringing of the victims phone.

“Where else should we go for our honeymoon?” Roman asks him with a soft tone.

“How bout New York? The city that never sleeps,” Patton responds and giggles as Roman twirls him and pulls him close.

“They’ll see our work of art,” Roman nods and chuckles, “We’ll make it into the museum, baby!”

“That’s always been your dream, ever since we were little kids,” Patton nods eagerly, “Roman! We’re going to be famous!”

“Let’s get a move on!” Roman says happily, Patton leading the way out, stepping on the bodies, as they both still holding hands.

“The duo we are calling the Royal Killers have struck five homes and five stores in Topeka, Kansas-“ “They robbed a shop in Philadelphia-“ “Rhode Island couple have lost their life to the Royal Killers-“ “The FBI are working tirelessly to find this couple-“ “We warn you, be cautious, and we will release more information once made public! Once again, be cautious.”

Patton blows out the smoke and hands the blunt to Roman, who kisses Patton quick and takes a hit. They stare up at the starry night, holding hands as they lay in the hammock. Patton looks at Roman and sighs happily.

“You’re the best, Roman. I can’t ever imagine losing you.”

“Neither can I. We will die of old age,” Roman looks at him and strokes his cheek, “We will die together, holding hands and staring at the horizon from our house in Venice Beach.”

“Come here,” Patron grabs him and pulls him into a kiss and Roman chuckles and pulls him on top of him. He drops the blunt on the person beneath them, which fell in a pool of their blood.

“The FBI day they are closer and have released the identities of the Royal Killers! The names are Roman Prince and Patton Love, but they may go behind the alias of Creativity and Morality, Alexander and Samuel, or Ricky and Patrick. Here are their mugshots from years back when they were captured as young adults after robbing an elderly. They both have their own distinctive features. Roman has a scar near his left eye, along with a distinctive mark under his right eye. Patton has a birthmark on his neck, resembling the shape of a heart. They both have tattoos on their shoulder of an armor and heart. If you see them, call the number on screen, the police or FBI. They are considered highly dangerous, their signature weapon being a nine millimeter pistol that is red and gold, along with an eight inch dagger, the end being jagged. Once again, do not engage. They are highly dangerous murderers.”

Roman watches as his husband laughs happily as he ran into the beach, sighing happily and took a video of him. Patton turns around, the sun hitting him just right and made him look angelic in his black tank top and blue shorts. Patton squeals happily as a small wave hit him, falling down on the wet sand. He turns to Roman and waves at him, Roman going towards him and set the phone down to record them. He runs to him and picks him up, spinning him around. Patton laughs and wraps his arms and legs around him. Roman took him more into the water, where it reached up to Roman’s abs.

“I wish I could marry you once more,” Roman says, stroking back Patton’s wet hair, his curls falling over his eyes.

“You looked so good in that red suit,” Patton hums and leans his forehead against him, “You looked like a movie star.”

“You looked so dashing in that dress. White with red fits you so well,” Roman whispers and sets him down, “Absolutely angelic.”

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP NOW!”

Roman and Patton then around, seeing they were surrounded by cops and a SWAT team. Patton held onto Roman’s hand tightly, Roman bringing him close. They were shouting demands, and it was terrifying Patton. Roman hid his face in his chest, both still ignoring demands.

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND SURRENDER PEACEFULLY!”

“Don’t worry dear, they won’t hurt you,” Roman whispers to Patton and kisses his head.

“They’re scaring me. I don’t want to be away from you,” Patton whimpers, tears welling up, shaking his head, “They can’t separate us!”

“GET READY TO FIRE! AIM-“

“And they won’t. After all, the world has to see our work of art, sunshine,” Roman grins and pulled a small remote out of his pocket and pressed a button.

At that moment, Roman pulls Patton down underwater as homemade explosives started going off. There were shouts and screams, the officers trying to scramble away but the area was littered with bombs. Only Roman knew where he put them from two days ago.

After what seemed like forever, but only two minutes, they rose up enough to where their noses were above water. They scanned the area and stood up slowly, panting hard. It was the one time they were glad they could hold their breaths for a long time.

“Are they gone?” Patton asks, his voice scared and still clinging onto Roman.

“They should be. All I see are bodies,” Roman says, “Get on my back. I’ll take us to the car and we’re leaving this country. They’re waiting for us.”

Patton nods and does as he says, Roman not being bothered that he stepped over mangled body parts and bodies. He avoided the bombs he planted, and reached the car. He had Patton get in and Roman starts the car, both still holding hands.

“They’ll never separate us, sunshine. Remember that,” Roman reassures Patton, who nods and shoots at the officer who stood up weakly.

With that, Roman sped off the beach and set off the last of the bombs as they both drove off to the cruise ship waiting for them.

“The FBI and all of the departments have no idea where this serial killer duo have disappeared! They are working with other countries to find them, but it is a tragic event! They have killed over forty officers and over thirty of the best from the SWAT team. All that was found was the cellphone of Roman Prince, which seemed to record their final moments on the beach before officers came into scene. It is a sad day, but the country is hoping they are brought to justice so-“

“You two sure cause trouble.”

Roman turns to his friend, having tucked in his husband. He stared at the trio, Logan stepping up.

“It’s called having fun, eyepatch. You should try it,” Roman smirks and snaps his fingers, “Want to come with us?”

“No, because you two are retiring,” Logan says and Virgil hands over the passports, “You two are lucky you’ve grown and changed from that mugshot. No one will recognize you.”

“Ah! That is a name I do love!” Roman laughs and shakes his head, “Romeo. Not too much different from mine.”

“Patton is now Pedro. It works that you two know some Spanish,” Dolos shrugs and hands over their documents, “Don’t kill anymore. It was hard to get these documents.”

“I worked hard to make those passports,” Virgil scoffs, the scar on his cheek catching Roman’s attention.

“We won’t disappoint you guys! Besides, I did promise Patton a beach honeymoon,” Roman chuckles and looks at the captain from the cruise, pointing the gun at him as he picked up a phone, the trio pointing their own at the other cruise workers, “and I’m not letting anyone ruin his vacation.”

[care-devil]

Prompt: Either karen or foggy buying matt a red suit as a joke, or matt buys himself one. If it's matt himself it could be post s1 and Karen gets the idea that it looks weirdly familiar. ;)

I AM WEEEEAAAAK so I actually wrote something using your prompt, nonnie. But the suit isn’t really a joke in my story… I hope you won’t mind the change!  Thanks for your prompt! ♥

[AO3]

“I wish Foggy were here. I wanted to see his face when he’d open the gift I got him.”

It was Christmas eve, and Foggy Nelson was in Florida, celebrating with his family. Of course, he had invited Matt and Karen to join them, but they had both refused. They didn’t want to impose on them. Foggy had argued Matt was a member of the family, but still, his friend had kept saying no. He had thus stopped trying, when he understood the real reason behind this refusal: Matt wanted some alone time with a certain blonde, even though he would never admit it to him. And Foggy was more than okay with that.

“Fine,” he had answered. “Enjoy the holiday, then. I hope I’ll find you happy when I get back.”“I am happy,” Matt had objected.Foggy had scoffed. “You can do better, Matt. And you will, I know it.”

Matt had burst out laughing, knowing all too well what he was referring to, and he had hugged him.

“See you later, pal,” Foggy had said.“Merry Christmas, Foggy.”

And so he was there, in Karen’s apartment, having dinner. She had made the first move, arguing that they couldn’t spend Christmas alone, it’d be ridiculous. She had promised him the best meal in town, and he had taken her word on that. They were now sitting at a heavily decorated table, all green and red, angels and reindeers and snowmen scattered around. Karen had gone overboard. In her defense, she hadn’t hosted a proper Christmas dinner in a while. She wanted to shower Matt with that Christmas spirit.

“What did you get him?” Matt inquired.She smirked and blushed. How he loved these flushed cheeks of hers. “A set of knives,” she let out.Matt chuckled. “A set of knives for Foggy the almost-butcher. Very smooth, Karen.”“I know, right?” she giggled.

Matt heaved a sigh. It felt right. This dinner, being in her apartment. It was so casual, something he wasn’t exactly used to, and that’s what he loved about her. How natural things were with her. He had known love before. Passion, too. Elektra Natchios had left her print on his life, she had scarred his soul, and a part of him would probably love her forever. After all, you never forget your first love. Matt Murdock was no exception. But his love for Karen Page stemmed from daily life. There were no confettis, no fireworks, no sound, no fury. And it felt fantastic, like seating on the beach and watching the sea on a summer day. She was an endless summer day by the sea.

“You know,” he said, “I don’t miss Foggy that much.”She frowned, surprised. “You don’t?”“Not one bit. Because spending Christmas with you is the best gift I could’ve ever dreamed of.”

She bit her lower lip. Her heart was racing. His too. But she remained silent. He didn’t know why he had said that. He hadn’t thought about it. It just… came out. He started to regret it. Too soon, he thought, scratching the top of his head, until she finally broke the silence.

“Well,” she said, “then I think I can throw away your actual present.”He narrowed his eyes. “Wait, I thought we agreed on a no present clause?”She grinned. “I didn’t sign any paper, Mr Murdock. You should’ve known better.”

Yes, he should have. Now curiosity and guilt were battling in his head.

“So…” he shyly began. “I believe you mentioned a present?”She joined her hands together and rested her chin on them. “I did.”Matt laughed. “You’re gonna make this hard for me, aren’t you?” “I am,” she answered with a knowing smile. He cleared his throat and sat straight. “Please, Karen,” he said, “shall you hand me the gift you got me, unworthy as I am?”Karen couldn’t help but laugh. She couldn’t keep a straight face when he was using that fancy tone. “I shall,” she replied. She got up and urged him to follow her to the Christmas tree. They sat by it, and she handed him a big box. “Here,” she said.

Matt took in a deep breath, and shook the present. Karen gave him an amused look and smiled fondly. He truly looked like a ten-year-old.

Suddenly, he froze. “Is it…”She nodded, knowing he had guessed right. “Your suit, yes.”Matt opened the box and ran his fingers on the fabric. “How…” he said, bewildered. “I know people,” Karen simply answered. She wasn’t going to add anything more, that he knew. “It’s probably not gonna be as good as your original one,” she continued, “but I figured you could still use it.”He shook his head. “I can’t accept that, Karen. Not now, not after all we’ve been through.”Karen knelt in front of him, and put her hand on his. “Listen to me very carefully, Matt. I will never, ever ask you to abandon this for me. You are Matt Murdock, but a part of Matt Murdock is Daredevil. And Daredevil’s never been the problem.” She could feel his body tense under her fingers. They had to have that talk. “Ever since you told me your secret, I’ve been nothing but proud of you, Matt,” she softly added.“How can you be proud of a guy with such darkness in him?” he asked, weakly.Karen shrugged, her hand still on this, her thumb drawing circles on his palm. “I guess I know one thing or two about darkness,” she conceded. “And I know that there’s more to you than this. You don’t do what you do because you enjoy causing pain. You do it because you are serving a purpose. You are trying to help, to protect those who can’t protect themselves. This is what you stand for. I’ve always admired that, even when I didn’t know you were him. ”

He remembered. He would never forget. She had defended him when no one believed in what he did. He had felt her pride and admiration for the Man in the Mask. People like her were the reason he did what he did. And she was the reason he had wanted to put it all behind.

“But this suit… It represents so much pain. I thought I lost you,” he said.Her other hand brushed his cheek, and she smiled. “You never lost me, Matt. You never will. If anything, I thought I lost you. Worse, I saw you losing yourself, and I couldn’t do anything about it. Because it was up to you to get your shit together. And you did.” She took in a deep breath and grabbed both his hands in hers. She held on tight. “I want to be by your side, Matt,” she said in a whisper, “I can’t… I can’t have it any other way. I need you in my life.”

Matt smiled and placed his hands on hers. How he loved to feel the blood thumping in her veins, its rhythm echoing through his whole being. She always found the words. She always knew how to get through to him, no matter how much he tried to hide from her.

“You should’ve been a lawyer, Ms Page,” he cooed, his fingers lacing through hers, gently bringing their hands down. She scoffed. “I don’t know about that.”He relished the sound of her laughter, and then a huge grin broke across his face. “Can I give you your gift now?”Karen tilted her head. “I thought you didn’t get me anything?” she said. “I never said such a thing,” Matt replied, falsely shocked. “So, may I?”She pouted. “You may.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and let his hand slid down to the crook of her shoulder, until it was pressed against the nape of her neck. A thousand shivers met his skin. Her breath was erratic, her hearbeats thundering. He gently brushed her lips with his other hand, his fingers drawing the contours of her mouth. Her breath was like fire against his fingertips. His fingers left her lips to nestle in the small of her back, and he pressed his body against hers. Suddenly, he couldn’t tell their heartbeats apart. They were beating in unison, each echoing in the ribcage of the other. And his lips were on hers. How long the kiss lasted, he would never know. Human time had been erased, annihilated. There were only their lips gliding over one another, only their tongues dancing, their breaths mingling, the heat spreading to their whole bodies until they caught fire. When they stopped, Karen smiled against his half-opened lips.

“Very bold of you to think that a kiss would make a good enough gift,” she quipped.Matt laughed, and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I guess I deserve that,” he admitted.Karen took a good look at him, and placed her hands on his chest. “Do you know what I deserve?” she cooed. “To see you in that suit. ‘Cause I gotta admit, the things it does to me… Are pretty unholy.”And all of a sudden, Daredevil’s cheeks were crimson. She giggled when she noticed his flushed face. He kissed her some more. “I’m warning you,” he said in a raspy voice, “if you’re planning on taking it off afterwards, it’s gonna take forever.”She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m a patient woman. I’ll just make it worth your while.”

[lifeblissfully]

It’s been a while.

I don’t know how many people actually come across my page or read the 2 posts that I actually have, but I just wanted to stop by. Kind of need to talk for a bit. 

If you’ve read the other posts you’d know that I am recently married. Everything that I am going to share this afternoon has been talked about with my husband, but a part of me feels that he doesn’t fully understand how I’m feeling. He might, but I feel as though when I talk about this stuff, he goes a little overboard. I can’t stop him and I appreciate him trying. 

Anyway, here it goes. 

TRIGGER WARNING (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome/pcos, infertility, child bearing, adoption, depression, anxiety, low sexual interest.)

When I was about 19, I had my period for 3 months straight. When I say that, people think “well, that is normal. You get it every month.” No, this was continuous bleeding from my vagina for 3 months with no end in sight and excruciating cramps. So, I said something to my mom that I had decided to go see my family doctor and see if there was something they could do. I did and they did tests and found that I had extremely high testosterone. So, they put me on birth control pills and Spironolactone (I probably misspelled that). At this time, I was taking Lexapro as an antidepressant. Something felt off, so I went back and told them that I was still bleeding, but also don’t feel right mentally. We decided to change the Lexapro dosage. Still no change. We then changed the medication and they put me on a new birth control. Again, no changes. We have now changed the antidepressant to Zoloft. I felt worse. I decided to go to an OB-GYN. I go, and they do more tests. They come to the same conclusion that my family doctor came to. I have extremely high testosterone. My doctor and I talk about trying a progesterone based IUD. She gave me some info on Skyla and Mirena. I did my research and decided on Skyla. A couple weeks later, she does the insertion and about a few days later, the bleeding stops. During all of this, i decided to stop taking my antidepressants. That probably wasn’t the best idea. 

Fast forward to me at 23. I have been dating my husband for several months. I’ve been pretty open with him about everything. I’ve moved in with him. We’re super happy. Talking about marriage and a family. He’s helped me through some painful periods since it is almost time for me to get my IUD replaced. October rolls around and I make my appointment and get it replace. Super painful cramps, but I make it through. We go on about our lives as normal, until June 2019 that is. In May, he went to a job fair to teach outside of Richmond, VA. That day, his current school wanted an interview. He’s keeping me updated while I’m back in Maryland at work. Move ahead a few days to a week later, he had picked me up from work and we were on our way home. He gets a call from his current school to offer him a job. We’re both so excited. We’ve been planning to move for about a year. We already have apartments picked out. We planted ourselves spiritually and found a church we enjoyed. We were ready. He moves in July and I am finishing up in Maryland. 

A few months later, I decided to find a family doctor to talk about going back on antidepressants and ADD medication. While talking to her, we talked about my symptoms from a few years ago. She looks at me dead in the eyes and said that’s all signs of PCOS. Keep in mind, I’ve been treated without any kind of diagnosis this whole time. I’ve basically been in limbo. So, my doctor asks if she can run a few tests. She finds extremely high testosterone and insulin resistance, two signs of Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. I am now 24. I have gone this whole time without knowing. She suggests that I go to another OB-GYN since she couldn’t make a formal diagnosis for this. She refers me to a doctor’s office that she trusts. She also suggest telehealth psychiatry, but that’s a different story. So, I go to the doctor that she recommended. I fall in love with the care there. I talk to them about family planning and they tell me to come back when we are ready. January 2020 comes around. Time for the wedding. My husband and I talk it out and we decide that I will go off of my IUD in May so that we can see what happens. May comes and I go through the process of getting my IUD removed. Everything is fine. For now. 

Come July 15th, I finally start my period. I ask my doctor if it is normal to start that late. She says it is because of the IUD. She said to contact them if it goes longer than 2 weeks. It did. I go into the office. My doctor asks for blood work and an internal ultrasound. We do all of that and we have a virtual follow up because of COVID-19. She formally diagnoses me with PCOS. When I hang up with her I start to cry because this has been 6 years and several doctors later to finally know what’s happening. She, as well as another male doctor, start me on some medicine to try to stop the bleeding. Nothing works. We go through about 5 different ones. I finally have enough and make an appointment with the other doctor. I make the decision with my husband and we go back to the IUD. The doctor suggests Liletta. He says that it is a higher progesterone dosage. He also says that they don’t use Skyla very often anymore. The bleeding has since stopped. 

My husband and I always talked about adoption. Even if we can have our own. Now, it’s only adoption. He’s listened to me cry because I always wanted to have biological children and now at 25, I learn that with the way my periods are, it is almost impossible. It’s been a painful time. I am still dealing with it and we’ve known the official diagnosis since August. I go through adoptuskids.org every so often. I’ve fallen in love with several children and can’t wait until we are able to begin our foster to adopt process. 

There is still the issue of sex. This is going to be kind of a TMI section here. Just saying. 

My sex drive has plummeted in the past few months. I did some research and realized that it is a side effect of PCOS for some women. I just have no interest anymore. I feel gross all the time because I have gained so much weight from the hormones and it just sucks. I can hear it in his voice. It bothers him that I don’t want to anymore. I go back to my doctor in December for a follow up o my ADD meds. I plan to talk with her about this and see if there is something we can do. 

[goblinmandoestvandfilm]

Horror

In TV and Film I have studied a range of Horror films, some comedy, some straight up heart wrenching, but each appeal to the horror’s narrative genre. The two I will be discussing are Happy Death Day and Don’t Knock Twice, these films are drastically different and both appeal to opposite audiences. In terms of their narrative structure as they follow a 5 faze structure.

This is targeted towards teens to young adults due to the horrific and terrifying nature of the films.

Happy Death Day

This film follows a non-linear story, tells the tale of the protagonist “Tree” who relives the same day due to her murder. The film is littered with plot twists and tries to make the character dislikeable from the very start, this makes the audience feel a strange distaste towards Tree, as she seems like a b*tch. As the film goes on we see the lighter and more frightened side of Tree, this combined with the comedic tones makes this film a lot more fun and lighter on death portion of things.

The visuals in happy death day may not be anything to write home about but it’s simplistic nature helps provide appealing tones to the story, an example of when this occurs is with the car seen. In this scene we see a car get exploded with Tree in the back, this was probably the limit in the film as all other visuals were either plain or boring, such as Tree jumping to her death.

The film’s location takes place on college grounds and because of this is very hyperactive.

The diegetic sound is louder in happy death day as this helps the audience understand what is actually going on, I wouldn't say there is anything special about it as most of the time characters are fighting or at a standstill. However, the nondiegetic sound was implemented quite well, an example of when used well was at Tree’s death, the jack-in-the-box happy birthday song was added over and made louder which helps us the audience anticipate the thrill.

According to Barthes Happy Death Day follows a closed narrative as there is a clear ending, Tree finds out who her killer is. the story follows the Hermeneutic code which means that not all facts are revealed from the start, his is very useful to see as we now that there a secrets being kept from us. Enigma is also used as tension is built through her deaths.

Propp’s theory

Hero=Tree

Villain=Lori

Donor=Carter

Helper=Carter

Princess=Carter

Princess’ father=none

Dispatcher=Carter

False Hero=Teacher and murderer

Most places in Propps theory are failed, this is good as it shows us how Tree rose up to the occasion and found her murderer.

This story uses a lot of plot twists, like the fight scenes, and Red Herrings, the real killer, which leaves the reader going off track a bit and causes a lot of misleading ideas which stir up in the viewer’s mind. This makes for a very compelling story as the odd uplifting tone leaves me thinking if this movie is really a horror film.

Don't Knock Twice

Unlike Happy Death Day, Don’t Knock Twice creates subtle undertones of a gloomy atmosphere, this helps to elevate the mise en scene as we see the surroundings in the opening. Don't knock twice is about a haunting demon who wants remain on our main character because of a framed child napping, which the demon (who is the old lady got blamed for), the thing about don't knock twice is the absence of the mother who put her child into care before these events transpired, it’s this absence of the motherly figure which represents the lack of maternity the daughter has for her mother making the poltergeist like scenes more thrilling.

Don’t Knock Twice portrays a more linear stories and can be related to more recent horrors as they both carry the same tropes.

The visual in don't knock twice were dark and gloomy in a positive sense, they helped portray drama and action, the design of the witch seemed very unnatural but yet humanlike, I will admit it wasn't anything special but it still helped carry the story.

The sound on the other hand was alright and full proof, Don’t Knock Twice is good at portraying its diegetic sound in a way that is mainly used when the characters are engaged in some sort of dialogue, an example being the mother doing her statue making. To add to this, the nondiegetic sound is mainly used between transition and jump scares, i would say the music implemented helps scenes reach climax, I would also say that most of the orchestral music they used helps heighten the tension for the introduction of the demon.

Barthes follows a closed narrative and follows a linear story. The enigma is widely used to build up tension as the monster is a key part of the production. The symbolic code, shows the underlying meanings of the text. these features help make the horror more terrifying and thus makes it a more impactful to watch.

Propp’s theory

Hero=mother and daughter

Villain=the demon and police man

Donor=the mother in some aspects

Helper=Tira

Princess=none

Princess’ father=none

Dispatcher=Chloe

False Hero=demon

Propp’s theory helps us understand roles of the characters in Don’t Knock twice there are absent roles which helps convey the isolation and independence our heroes have.

Don't Knock Twice can relate to McGuffin as there seems to be a set focus to the film as we see the main characters constantly trying to find a way to get out of the mess they are in. An element of Red Herring can also be seen; the orphaned girl looks for clues online but quickly gets debunked by some spiritual customer her mother serves. These minor things help give the story some depth and partial meaning.

Both

To fully compare both “horror” films we should analyse their narrative structure. Firstly, Happy Death Day starts off as appearing as a teenage drama/romantic comedy which quickly takes a turn for the worst when her killer suddenly emerges from under a bride with a happy birthday theme being played from a wind-up toy. The idea of relating horror to children-esc themes makes the horror more exciting, this opening scene is the mise en scene as the lighting low camera angles and over the shoulder shots all contribute to the eerie feel of the scene and make her first death seem a lot more realistic. If we compare this to Don't knock twice we are quickly met with a lot darker themes as the lighting seems dimmer and the overall atmosphere is the complete opposite to that of happy death day, an example being Happy Death Day primarily taking place in the day, while Don’t Knock Twice taking place either indoors or at night, it’s these themes that make these seem like binary opposites. Don’t Knock Twice uses young teen/adult orphans who have a lot of street smarts to represent a rumour of a haunted house, while this is still going on we see the daughters original mother taking custody of her. These mystical and controversial tones help make the opening that more dramatic as we see the way each character feels and reacts to events that have transpired in the past.

After the initial shock in Happy Death Day our main character Tree eventually susses out that she is living the same day twice, while newly met acquaintance Carter eventually finds out, but this is only after a few more deaths, he devises this plan to have Tree to get killed in a range of ways in order to figure out who her murderer really is. This time in production relates to the build-up, problems and events, this is a unique way to relate to narrative structure as it seems most of the action takes place in a same/familiar way, for example Tree waking up in Carter’s room every day, from these similar areas help us the viewer really feel like we now the layout of the college. However, unlike it’s opposite counterpart Don’t Knock Twice uses the same location but different areas to make the viewer seem more scared, giving of this feeling of isolation and mystery. The build-up, problems and events of this film include lots of blood and jump scares, the loss of a best friend/metaphorical brother Danny and the introduction of the demon who wants them dead. It’s the fear of the unknown that makes these scenes so crazy, one moment we see the demon but suddenly it’s gone. Overall to compare these parts of the narrative structure ends in two different but satisfying build up to watch.

Finally the resolution and ending, in Happy Death Day we see an unusual turn from regular structure, that being the murderer framing someone else who also turns out to be a harsh murderer, this plot twist revived the film as it started to get duller and duller similar to Tree, as we were witnessing the recurring themes of the film, after this though we found you the real killer was her roommate who poisoned her cupcake, however the reasoning was a silly lovers quarrel and doesn't relate to the fact that Tree was a horrible person before her deaths, the ending is also odd as its cool she survived but the end confrontation was overboard by a lot, this is clearly evident through how she killed both with over the top action e.g. she literally flung her roommate out of the window and still didn't get arrested for manslaughter? I think it's these moments in this “horror” which clearly went overboard. On the other hand, the resolution and ending of Don’t Knock Twice leaves me with subtle confusion, this film is a horror at its core and its because of this i actually think this film is good, but its plot holes is what lets it down, the plot of the film tries to intertwine all these mythological points which don't translate to film very well. But at the end of the day the acting and various shots at the ending leaves a good atmosphere but leaves something to valued. Overall, both movies lose their track during their initial endings and because of this leaves something to be desired.

Conclusion

Overall Happy Death Day can be seen as a more comedic horror which shies away from what the typical horror can be classed at, the binary opposite to this is Don’t Knock Twice which stays to the typical chains of what a regular horror stand for. If I had to compare these horror films i would say the versatility of both allowed me to grasp and have a better realisation of what horror films are about. This can be beneficial in analysing action next as I will be able to assess what makes a livelier film fun.

[gothxmsirxns-blog]

Miss me?

pairing: Batfam x Reader

relationship: Family

warnings: mild violence, mentions of the army, female reader

request: yet

plot: ohh I loved your first imagine and I cant wait for your next one! I can tell I'm going to love your blog. I just wanted to ask if I could be your first written request? like maybe the reader is like batman's biological daughter and she joins the military instead of being a vigilante (but she used to be one but then quit) and she like finally comes home after like a year and like surprises them and its like just fluff imagine. maybe she's like in her suit and helps them beat up some thugs and after shes like like "you miss me" ,with the whole batfam - @solis200213

key: (Y/N)= your name, (H/N)= hero name

words: 1,751 (I may have gone a bit overboard.)

A/N: I don’t know much about the army or how it works, so some of this is based of research and I’m sorry if I got anything wrong. I also think I messed up the comic continuity in it, sorry about that.

Being Bruce Waynes daughter came with a lot of pressure. Pressure to be perfect in the eyes of the media, pressure to take on the family business when you reached the right age as the oldest child to the billionaire (though she was only older than Dick Grayson by a few months), so when the news broke that (Y/N) Wayne was joining the army the media went into a frenzy with conspiracy as to why she was doing it all over the place.

But only she knew the truth, she loved her family, she did, and leaving them killed her a little inside and as much as she loved being a vigilante and helping people in her city, she couldn’t help but feel like she was made for more. So, she joined the army in search of that something ‘more’.

So, she packed her things, moved to South Carolina and started her training. Her past as a vigilante made things easier, she was more agile, she was faster,and she was stronger than most recruits, and so she was able to advance quite quickly. She following the basic training program for 10 weeks (an essential training regime) before completing her advanced individual training to join the special forces in 56 weeks.

(Y/N) loved what she did, it was amazing and she felt like she finally found that something ‘more’ that she was always subconsciously searching for, but she missed home. She hasn’t been back since her initial training and now she could add another year onto that, making it a grand total of over two years since she had seen her family face to face. Sure, she had called them and they had video chats quite frequently, but it wasn’t the same. She missed being able to wrap her arms around her brothers in a bear hug so tight she could feel their heartbeat on her chest.

But now, after spending six months abroad as part of a Joint Special Operations Task Force, she was returning home to Gotham once again for a short-time. Of course, her family didn’t know what, she wanted to surprise them after all. Well, Alfred knew, but that was because Alfred simply knew everything going on in the families lives.

Arriving home, (Y/N) wasn’t surprised to find the manor quiet, it was almost midnight after all and prime time for some thugs to be out on the streets which meant her family was out too. Setting her bag down on the ground, (Y/N) reached up to remove her barett as she looked around her home with a smile. She had missed this place, the atmosphere of peace and family it brought to her was an irreplaceable feelings.

“Mistress (Y/N), it’s good to have you home.” Turning to the butler with a smile, she let out a happy sigh and let a grin spread over her face, “It’s good to be home Alfred.” She walked towards the older man and wrapped her arms around him, taking in the feeling of being held by the man for the first time in a long time. Returning the hug, Alfred let out a gentle chuckle and rubbed the girl’s back as he did.

“Everyone will be pleased to see you home.” She pulled back, the smile still on her face as she did. “The girls are down stairs, they are having a ‘girls night’ I believe and so didn’t go out on patrol.” Rolling her eyes slightly, (Y/N) let out a chuckle. It was just like the girls, even on a night off they could be found in the cave. “Thank’s Alfred.”

“Now go see them. I’ll bring your bag to your room, it’s exactly as you left it.” Giving the older man another ‘thank you’, (Y/N) walked into the main room and towards the old grandfather clock that hid their secret from the rest of the world. With a deep breath, she opened the glass panel protecting the hands of clock and moved them to the right time to give her access to the world underneath the house.

A deep sigh passed her lips as the clock moved and the path to the cave was opened to her. It’s now or never, was the only thought that passed through her lips as she walked down the stairs gently to make sure her footsteps wouldn’t be heard by the girls. Once she reached the bottom, a smile spread across her lips as she watched Cass and Kate spar while Steph watched on and Barbara set at the computer, keeping up with the boys and to make sure they stayed out of trouble.

“Some things never change, do they?” All the girls froze as the familiar voice floated through the air, suddenly they all turned around with large grins on their face. Bracing herself for impact, (Y/N) rose her eyebrow expectantly before she was engulfed in a hug from almost all the girls at once.

Once she was let go, she turned to Barbara and bent down, wrapping her arms around the redhead as she did. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” If there was one thing she regretted, it was not being there when Barbara was put into a wheelchair, she wasn’t there to support her and it broke her. “It’s okay, you’re here now.”

Pulling back with a smile, she looked at all the girls and let out a content sigh as she did. “It’s so good to see you all again.” Licking her lips, she looked at each girl individually, memorising their faces and how they had changed over the two years. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“We’ve missed you do.” Turning to Kate as she spoke, the woman wrapped a arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder and smiled at her, “But we know something that’s missed you even more.” As she now took both of (Y/N)’s shoulder’s in her hands, the rest of the girls smirked as she was turned around to look at what looked like an upgraded (H/N) suit.

“I made a few upgrades and changed the style a little while you were away.” Turning to Barbara with a smile, she let out a chuckle. “Thank you Babs.” As Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest, she rose and eyebrow and pushed (Y/N) towards it slightly, “Why don’t you give it a test run? See if the boys recognize you in it?”

It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing to get her into the suit, so now (Y/N) stood atop a building with Stephanie and Cassandra at either side of her while Barbara and Kate were talking to her through the comms link, one that was separate from that of the boys.

“Okay, so I just sent the boys to deal with some of Joker’s thugs downtown. Why don’t you go meet up with them?” As Barbara talked to them, the three girls smirked and set of to where the thugs were. They got their easily, and quickly, quick enough that they witnessed the boys taking down goon after goon, but every time they took down one goon another two appeared out of what seemed like thin air.

Looking at each other, the three girls nodded and jumped down into the street. Steph, behind Tim as she helped him take on the goons he couldn’t see, Kate between Jason and Dick as she helped them take on goons that were surrounding them, and (Y/N) behind her father, and beside Damian.

Swinging her leg out, (Y/N)’s foot came into contact with the jaw of one of the goons and made him stagger backwards and blood started to pool at his lips, and as he came back up she punched him in the face and knocked him out. She then turned to her side as someone came at her and bent down, swiping her leg under his feet and making him fall down. As he rose to his knees, she brought her knee up and made contact with his jaw before spinning around and kicking him in the face.

(Y/N)’s body filled with adrenaline, but a different type of adrenaline than she was now used to with the special forces, this adrenaline was an all too familiar adrenaline that she has been practically addicted too since she was eleven years old.

Soon all the goons were down and tied up nice and pretty for the police department and the team were watching from a tall building. Removing her mask and turning to her family, a smirk danced onto (Y/N)’s lips, one that resembled the smirk on the lips of her father, “Miss me?”

Dick was the first to react, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl with a hearty laugh and bringing her in tight to his chest as he did. “Of course we did.” He pushed her out to arm’s length after a few seconds and looked her up and down, “It hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“He’s right.” Looking over to Jason, who had since removed his helmet and now only sported his domino mask, “It’s better, I have no one babying me now whenever I get hurt.” With her smirk turning into a grin, Jason’s face contorted into a look of mischief and teasing and she took the broad shouldered man into her arms. “Miss you too Jay bird.”

Next was her second younger brother, who seemed a little shell shocked that she was there, but she knew that was the coffee, sleep deprivation and fighting just taking a toll on him. “It’s really you.” The voice was quiet, belonging to her youngest, and only biological, brother who had grown in the two years she was away.

“Yeah, it’s really me.” With arms out wide, Damian practically dived onto the girl, holding her as close as he physically could. (Y/N) was the only one Damian felt comfortable being like this with, being physical and affectionate, Damian sought her out for comfort before she left and even after she left he went to her with his problems and so to be able to hold her in his arms once again was a relief to the youngest of the bunch.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) looked around her with a smile. She was happy,she was with her family, she was home, even if it was only for a short while.

[gennij]

Really long thing mostly for me

TFW you spend an hour researching and typing this when you were supposed to be studying for that biology test.

I was curious about the Diogenes club Mycroft attends so I looked it up.

Apparently, it was named so after the philosopher Diogenes, who was important but a right prat himself.

He pledged in a simple lifestyle, and that led to Cynicism and Stoicism.

But, he also criticized Plato, sabotaged Socrates lectures by eating loudly, and openly mocked Alexander the Great.

He was later captured by pirates, pirates, and sold into slavery.

His death is unclear but it was speculated that he either “held his breath”, “ate bad octopus”, or from “an infected dog bite”. Yeah.

Then there’s a whole thing about how he mocked people for treating the dead with respect. It comes with an excerpt about how people asked what he wanted to happen to his body after death, and he responded that he wished to be thrown out the city walls to be fed to the wild animals. He then specified that he’d like a stick along with him so he could fight off the animals. When questioned how he’d fight lacking awareness, he just straight up went “if I’m not aware, then why the fuck would I care what happens to my body.” (obvious paraphrasing)

He’s so connected with dogs there are literally too many things to name why.

(I mean, the word cynic even came from the word dog!!!)

P.S. There’s a Diogenes Syndrome, which doesn’t really have anything to do with Diogenes himself, but it’s characterized as a behavioral disorder wherein the person (usually an older male) has involuntary self-neglect and hoarding.

When looking up Diogenes (the philosopher) they also directly mentioned Sherlock stories, wherein the Diogenes Club hosts educated but untalkative and antisocial men.

K. So, I definitely didn’t detail this whole guy’s life but now I really want to make a comparison to the modern BBC Sherlock show.

So first of all, the Diogenes Club is actually called the Athenaeum Club, and it’s a standing club (that now accepts female members) wherein people with outstanding degrees may join.

Let me go from there, so from the name, Athenaeum, it comes from the Greek Goddess Athena, and I looked a bit more into Greek mythology to see if there could be any more connections. There were a few far-fetched ones, but let me start with the “similar” sounding one first: Anthea, Mycroft’s assistant. Surprisingly I expected her name to have come from Athena just because the letters can be rearranged. But, Anthea was actually an epithet (nickname) for the Greek Goddess Hera, which actually really baffled me. There had to be a reason for the writers to introduce a character with this name (especially since I could find no mention of her in the original novels by Arthur Conan Doyle). So I looked a bit more, and found that the meaning of Anthea is “flower” or “blossom”, and concerning the Hera part of the story, the only well-known myth including Athena is the story of Helen of Troy, better known as the Trojan War. In it, Athena, Aphrodite and Hera question Paris of Troy on who is the most beautiful and try to bribe him. Skipping past this, since it really does not seem relevant to any connections with Sherlock, I’ll just write that Hera “won” by promising Paris the “most beautiful woman on earth”, which was Helen. Blahblahblah. What I concluded were important parts, or at least connected enough to be introduced to Sherlock, is that the Goddess Hera is connected to women, marriage, and religion. But, she is also vengeful against Zeus’ (her husband) lovers and illicit children. She was actually raped by Zeus and persuaded to become his wife after the fact, but she still finds his infidelity unacceptable and rages. Then there’s the fact that in most statues of Hera she can be holding a pomegranate, emblem of fertile blood and death and a substitute for the narcotic capsule of the opium poppy. The drug. The drug that Sherlock (from the original Victorian era stories) used.

TLDR; Though Athenaeum seems a good connection to the character Anthea, I could not find any matching data besides loosely connected Greek mythology. Anthea comes from the Goddess Hera, and she is connected to bribery, manipulation, disguise, murder, and drugs. A good match for Anthea as a “tool” for Mycroft.

Let’s move on to Mycroft, because I just had to do a quick search on his name, especially as he was the “co-founder” for the Diogenes Club (my original topic that I have now gone totally overboard with). His name means “the mouth of the stream” and “land”. Which, though I may be overreaching, suit him exceptionally well. Everything about Mycroft (especially in the modern show) shows him to be in some major control of the British Government, which can be simply put, he is the land. The “mouth of the stream” is a bit harder, but again, as “he is the British Government” you would assume for him to have at least some control over the media and/or what gossip travels the country. Mouth of the stream, can thusly be “stream of consciousness” (thought process) or “stream of words”. Let me just add here for fun, connecting to Diogenes (the philosopher) we can believe Mycroft to be a stoic and cynical character (plus the whole eating food thing).

TLDR; Mycroft can literally be taken to mean the British country and all thought in it.

Okay, let me just jump into Sherlock now. He’s really why I wanted to connect to Diogenes by I got carried away with everything else… So, let me first say, how much does Diogenes sound like Sherlock? (or is it the other way around?) Either way, both men who feel as if they don’t uphold or support any certain government or country, they “want to live simply” (in different ways yes, but I’ll expand on that), and are right assholes about how they seem to present their opinions to others. For example, the whole thing about Diogenes criticizing all those other philosophers and disturbing their lectures through what seems to be a childish action (eating food loudly). I don’t think I need to explain Sherlock’s prattiness, but he also bulldozes over others opinions, “because they’re idiots”, and reacts childishly when not listened to.

Then there’s the whole dog thing with Diogenes, and though the fourth season of Sherlock may have made this a bit harder, Sherlock had thought to have a dog named Redbeard for many years before he went missing.

Third, the pirates. I’d say “do I need to say more” but I’m obviously going to. Diogenes was abducted by pirates and sold as a slave to a man named Xeniades. When asked his trade he was a smartass and said “nothing but governing men” and this Xeniades hired him, hired him, as a tutor for is children. Honestly, the only parts of that story that I can liken to Sherlock is that he had always wanted to become a pirate, and the snarky answer which inevitably gets him out of serious trouble.

Then there’s the whole similarity of how they perceive the dead.