#SIR THIS IS A PERSONAL ATTACK ON ME SPECIFICALLY

[asknarashikari]

https://x.com/junya_komatsu/status/1853426267108089991?t=X78nmWbnUmSRsGMUiTnTqA&s=19

Book Jesus have mercy on me, he's so hot

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m always so fascinated by people’s bad roommate stories. I’m not sure I’ll ever live with someone I haven’t vetted extensively beforehand ever again

[miyukisu]

I Might Bite .ᐟ

❤︎ | Resorting to dirty measures like biting your superior during sparring usually doesn't end without you having a taste of your own medicine... (2.6k wc) ╰ feat. Hoshina Soshiro (Kn8) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 2 | kinktober masterlist

tags - subordinate! reader, biting, marking, spanking, pussy slaps, humiliation & punishment, Hoshina's kinda mean, fingering, p in v, creampies, swearing

minors do not interact

The recent uptick of kaiju attacks over the city has every member of the JAKDF on edge. No one knows when the next attack is coming or if they'll live to see their next birthday. The atmosphere in the Tachikawa base specifically felt odd. Most were hopeless, but then there was you.

You weren't the strongest by any means, but you believed that if it came to being persistent—you'd be the best. It showed; after all, you trained your ass off even in your off hours.

There were times you bled and shed a tear, but you never stopped. Your fellow officers often told you to slow down. But there was one person who always watched from the sidelines—silently observing how you improved every night that you would sneak away into the training rooms.

It was none other than your superior, Hoshina Soshiro.

The vice captain didn't seem all too interested to be invested in the lives of the officers. Frankly, he had better things to do. But the rookie that worked themselves to the bone had successfully caught his eye. There was something about them that reminded him of himself. In many ways, he was drawn to that fiery spirit.

Not a lot of recruits had your determination and he was more than willing to foster that. What kind of vice captain would he be if he didn't help you in honing your skills?

────────────

You stared, dumbfounded, at the fox eyed man in front of you.

"Ya heard me right the first time," he insisted.

You gulp down. "Well... I'm certainly not going to refuse your offer, sir. I was just making sure I understood what you said."

"I told ya—I'll help ya train every night. I meant it."

Finding out that your superior knew you have been violating the curfew had you expecting the worst. But Hoshina's reaction was rather unforeseen.

Instead of making you run laps or do cleaning duty—he offered to train with you during your night sessions. It made sense; training with someone better than you would allow you to improve at faster speeds. The choice was a no-brainer.

"Alright... thank you, sir."

Hoshina simply nodded before walking away from you, satisfied that you were cooperative with his ideas.

"Sir!"

He turns around with a small smile. "Yes?"

"When do we start?"

"Have ya skipped a day before?"

"...No, not really."

His smile widens. "Ya have yer answer then."

────────────

Labored breaths filled the training room—though, most of it came from you. Hoshina barely broke a sweat throughout your entire sparring session. It wasn't shocking anymore at this point.

You estimate that it's already about two weeks since he has started joining you in your training. Not once have you won against him.

At first, it felt quite motivating—knowing that you had so much to improve. But as days go by, it becomes depressing how you can never even land a good hit on him.

You weren't fit to face a kaiju with how things stand and it crushed your once blazing spirits.

With your chest heaving and your vision blurring, you continued to anticipate his next move. You figured he'd at least cut you some slack after seeing the massive difference in skill, but he was merciless. You didn't even fight back as he tackled you to the ground.

Hoshina Soshiro wasn't just talented with a blade, but also with his bare hands. Who would have thought he knew grappling as well? He easily put you in a rear naked choke and you felt your airway quickly constrict.

He taught you that if you couldn't even handle basic hand-to-hand combat—then you'd be nothing doing anything else. Besides, before ending your session with the usual bare knuckled fighting, he trained you with swords and other weapons... in which you couldn't beat him in either.

Going up against him was futile. You absorbed his teachings like a sponge, but when it came to applying them—all hope is lost.

You were going to pass out soon; you could feel it.

Despite telling yourself that you'd always fight fair and square—you realized that this wasn't the time to be righteous. Virtues, principles—whatever the fuck it is—chucked out the window.

You bit down on his arm—hard. Did you draw blood? Perhaps. But that hardly mattered to you. He finally let go, failing to defeat you completely. Hoshina hissed, checking out the fresh wound you gave him.

Neither could you move or speak. In fact, you kept your back leaning on his chest. Doing anything other than breathing was a bit too much at the moment.

"Ya play dirty, don'cha?" he whispered darkly into your ear.

The thickness and intimidation laced in his voice was enough to reinvigorate your entire being. You took the deepest breath possible before peeling yourself off of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to��"

"Of course ya didn't mean ta do that, right?" he cuts you off, lifting you off of the ground with his impressive strength.

"What shall I ever do with ya? Li'l thing bitin' her superior."

You could only stutter out a pathetic apology as he carries you in his arms.

"Nah, don'cha apologize now. Ya must be sick of me treatin' ya like a ragdoll hm?"

He was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit that to him.

Hoshina carried you over to the side of the room where the long metal bench was. Even out of fighting, he continued to treat you like a doll with the way you effortlessly flipped you over. Your stomach pressed against his lap with one of his hands resting on your nape.

You weren't sure where his other hand was, but you soon found out... the hard way.

A sharp slap made its way to your ass. It had you sucking in more air than usual.

"Not even a single yelp huh? Think ya can handle more? Ya need to be punished after all."

Another slap and then another on the other cheek. Tears were starting to brim in your eyes. With the next slap, you finally yelped in pain. Hearing your sharp breaths, he caressed your poor behind in a soothing manner.

"Think ya've repented enough?"

God, you didn't want to sound weak, but a few sniffles escaped you. His question racked your brain, yet not a single good answer came for it. It was a trap and he was steadily luring you in.

You figured—silence was the best response. However, that pissed off the vice captain even more. Hoshina let out a long and deep sigh. He didn't want to do this; he swears. But you just had to push his buttons.

"Not speakin' huh? How many times will ya disrespect yer superior after I've been kind enough ta be trainin' ya every night?"

If you've learned one thing about him these past few sessions—it was that he never gave you time to react. Only now, you're discovering that it applies to things apart from fighting as well.

He slid you off his lap without warning. Soon as you flipped yourself over, the vice captain was already hovering over you with a stern expression on his face.

He inched closer, slowly but steadily. His eyes never left yours and it seemed to have you in a trance because you failed to realize how he had already caged you between his thick arms.

"Sir..." you managed to say between shaky breaths.

"So you can speak?"

Your eyes finally stray from his face, feeling flustered by the proximity.

"Ya should use that mouth of yers fer talkin' —not fer bitin' ," he said. He leaned in to the point that you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck. It was tantalizing—almost paralyzing. "I think ya should get a taste of yer own medicine," he added.

No time was given to protest as he sunk his sharp teeth into your neck. You gasp, hands finding purchase on his arms. He suckled on the tender skin, sure to leave a mark that you'd have to cover up in the morning.

Then another bite came. Your fingers dug into his flesh. It was painful, but oddly arousing. The intoxicating scent he radiated coupled with his fine looks were a recipe for disaster. But the only one being ruined was you.

Perhaps he felt satisfied after two bites, settling on wet kisses scattered on your neck instead. He kept getting lower and lower until he was met with a barrier.

"Lemme get this out of the way, a'ight?" he says before gripping the soft fabric of your black tanktop—ripping it apart. He smirked at the sight, a flimsy lacey bra.

He pushed it up before smashing his face down on your chest, sucking and lightly biting at a sensitive bud. Your hands went from his biceps to his hair, almost pulling out the strands from the roots.

He bit, tugged, and marked you all over again—like he was staking claim. Hoshina made sure to give attention to the other one as well, sucking on the swell of your breast while using his fingers to toy with the other.

Truth be told, he was too excited and immersed in devouring you that he only now became aware of your sounds. It was delightful to say the least. It made him smile as he nipped at the sensitive flesh.

You began to arch your back, needing more of him. But he took this as a sign to go even lower, planting more kisses that trailed down your stomach. He was giving you whiplash with the alternating softness and harshness of his touch.

He looked up at you and saw your dazed expression, unable to even look back at him. This was fine; this was the only time he'd permit a subordinate not looking him in the eye.

For once, you were able to catch your breath and make sense of it all. You returned your gaze to the man above you. He was hovering over you again, looking down with a feral glare. His large hand gripped your thigh.

"Ya know... fer someone bein' disciplined... ya sure look like yer enjoyin' this."

"I'm not," you retorted. But both of you knew the truth.

"Ya challengin' me? Let's see then, shall we?"

He made quick work of the zipper on your pants before pulling it down and throwing it off to God knows where. His eyes opened slightly, zeroing on the damp patch on your panties. Of course, he was right.

"Would ya look at that—yer pussy's all soaked from that. How naughty."

"I... I... um..."

He huffed. "Ya what?"

Slap. He had slapped your pussy. The stinging sensation had you arching your back off of the cold metallic surface of the bench. A soft groan fell from your lips.

He landed another slap. "Look at how wet ya are right now. Ya shouldn't have lied huh?"

As if to soothe you again, he began rubbing his thumb over your poor cunt. "Didn't mean ta make her cry."

Hoshina smirked at his own joke—because who else would appreciate it? Definitely not you; you were too fucked out to even catch everything that he's saying.

He hooked a finger in the gusset before pulling your panties out of the way. The sight of your dripping cunt made his dick twitch. He had already been especially frustrated this week and the cute little subordinate he trained every night wasn't helping. Her little stunt was essentially the final nail in the coffin.

There was nothing else he wanted more but to fuck you senseless already. But he was a refined man; he had patience.

Hoshina pushed in two digits at first and it almost made him shudder with how tight and warm you were. Patience be damned; he was crumbling all too quickly for his liking.

"Fuck... yer suckin' it in."

A string of soft moans left you. It was music to his ears and he wanted it to be louder.

He began fucking his fingers into you at a faster pace. The muscles of his arm tensed and the veins on his forearm were popping out. A loud and vulgar moan reverberated through the training room. You could only hope that everyone in the base was asleep because there was no way you could be quiet with what he's doing to you.

You tightened around his fingers before unravelling completely. Your pussy fluttered, cumming on to his fingers shamelessly. It almost felt like a task to him—only getting it out of the way to get to the main event.

Hoshina pulled out his fingers, sucking them clean. He would have loved to get a taste of it on his tongue, but all restraint had been lost. He had to sheath himself in you or else he'd actually lose it.

"Take a deep breath for me, a'ight?" he says while unzipping his pants, only barely pulling out his leaking cock from its confines.

Maybe you should have listened because the sudden intrusion of his cock knocked the air out of your lungs. It filled you up nicely, hitting every spot with just one fluid motion.

He groans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His fingers were practically white with how hard he gripped the bench supporting the both of you.

"Coulda fought me with this instead. Maybe ya coulda won," he teased. He began slowly fucking into you, perhaps a reprieve after his previous actions.

Your hands held on to his back, softly digging your nails into the chiseled flesh. A satisfied groan poured from his smiling lips.

The string of moans coming from you urged him to go faster. He had enough of being slow and soft. He snapped his hips at a maddening pace almost immediately. Your leg fell of the bench, hanging off and allowing him deeper access into you.

He never faltered for a second—even as he leaned down to leave marks on your neck again. You held him closer to you as if you never wanted him to leave... and he wasn't; at least, not until you've cum all over his cock.

His ragged breaths filled your ear as he continued to rut into you. Hoshina was tough, ruthless, and precise—much like on the battlefield.

A familiar clench squeezed his dick. "Ya close? Ya gonna cum on my cock? C'mon, do it," he goaded.

His thumb began circling your swollen clit. After holding on to the cold bench for a while, his touch felt freezing. The warmth you felt inside contrasted with the cold touch of his thumb. The sensation was almost numbing with how good it felt.

"Wanna cum with me? How romantic of ya," he teased again. "Fuck... I'm cummin' —take it all. This is still part of yer punishment. Got that?"

You responded with a breathless moan. That was all it took before hot ropes of cum filled you. The warmth seemed to push you over the edge as well, milking him for all he's worth. And like he said—it would be romantic. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Ya learned yer lesson yet?" he asked, but not before capturing your wet lips in a kiss.

Hoshina let a shaky breath out as he pulled away. He knew it would be good, but he wasn't expecting for it to be this good.

"Shit... was only plannin' one round. Guess it wouldn't hurt ta discipline ya more."

He lazily rubbed his still hard cock. "C'mon, get on all fours fer me and I might not make ya run laps in morning's training." He watched intently as you followed, lining up his dick against your entrance. It was going to be a long night.

"Good fuckin' girl."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note slightly longer I guess because I like Hoshina more lol

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Exposed

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader summary: You come back from a mission with a tear in your suit. Miguel's reaction to what he sees underneath surprises you in the best way. tags / warnings: smut (minors do not interact!), p in v, fem reader, sassy spider-reader word count: 2.3k

You were coming back from a successful mission. Anomaly eliminated. No casualties. Well, except your spider-suit. An annoyingly claw-y bad guy had swiped at you from behind, and even though you’d just managed to dodge his attack, he’d nicked your suit and sliced a long strip of it down your side, from your back all the way down to the top of your thigh. Half your ass cheek was exposed, but you were so exhausted it was beyond you to care. You’d be suit-free and in bed soon enough. You just had to report in to Miguel first. He’d ordered you to because this had been a “potentially significant anomaly.” There seemed to be more and more of those recently. And he seemed to be assigning them mostly to you. You didn’t know of any other spiders that had to report to him personally after missions so often. 

You could feel the cold on your lower back as you walked up to his HQ platform, it slowly descending in front of you. You hop up as soon as it’s low enough, wasting no time. Miguel’s back is to you as he watches what seems like a million screens at once.

“Mission successful, spider-boss.” “Don’t call me that.” You knew he hated that nickname. That’s why you kept using it. 

“You prefer spider-captain? Spider-chief? Oooh maybe spider-king? No, that doesn’t sound right. Aren’t spiders more matriarchal anyway? You could be spider-queen if you want. Has a bit of a bite to it.” “Y/N,” he deadpans. “Hm?” “Shut up.” “Yes, sir, spider-queen!” 

He finally turns around to look at you, exasperation all over his chiseled features. You catch the end of his eye roll. Knowing engaging will only get more out of you, he opts to go straight to business. “You eliminated the anomaly?” “Yup.”

“Cleaned up the contamination afterward?” “Like the top-class interdimensional janitor that I am.”

“Anything unusual?” “Well, there was this big scary dude with giant claws that was only ever black and white when the rest of the world was especially colorful. Soo that was weird.” “I mean other than the exact reason I sent you there in the first place.” He runs his hand over his face, the other on his hip, looking sassier than he probably intended. “Oh! Then no.” 

You come over to his desk, leaning on it.

“And you’re alright? No injuries or anything?” In the back of your mind, you notice his voice softening as he asks you this. 

“I’m good. More than I can say for my suit though,” you laugh. You lift from the desk, turning slightly, twisting to look at the tear, exposing it to Miguel. “Why’s it called ‘tearing someone a new one,’ huh? Doesn’t make any sense. I need a new one specifically because this one’s torn.” 

You don’t expect him to respond to your stupid question, but when you look up at Miguel, the look on his face is more than unexpected. His eyebrows are shot up, his mouth the slightest bit ajar, his eyes fixed intently on your exposed ass. 

For once, you have no idea what to say. Why was he looking at you like that? Were you in trouble? Just because this was a bit inappropriate? I mean, c’mon, you were all spider-people; you’d all had your fair share of injuries that needed patching up and the like. It felt like a big sports team: bodies rendered just bodies by the heat of battle. Of course, you’d never admit to anyone out loud that while that was true for all the other spiders in your eyes, Miguel was the sole exception. His body could never be just a body. It was too imposing… too striking… too beautiful. You caught yourself staring at him much more often than you liked. Always talked incessantly when he was around to keep yourself distracted and from looking like an idiot. Well, you still looked like an idiot after everything you said, but you were an idiot on your own terms, usually getting some laughs while you were at it. 

“Miguel?” You come up with nothing else. 

Your voice snaps him out of his trance. His eyes shoot up to your face, and he looks — what is that? you’d never seen that look on Miguel O’Hara… was it… flustered?

“Um, yes, uh, right. Your suit,” he’s looking around at his screens again, trying to look busy but you can tell his gaze isn’t actually taking in any of the images. “We’ll get you a new one.” 

The tension lessened and, more importantly, his eyes no longer on you give you back a bit of your confidence. 

“You in charge of tailoring too? You really gotta learn to delegate, spider-boss.” He doesn’t say anything. Not even with you specifically trying to push his buttons with the nickname. “Okayy…” you elongate. “So, can I go now?”

He just grunts, not sparing another look toward you.

You start walking back across the platform but remember a detail of the mission you had wanted to tell him before making it too far. 

“Oh, there was this thing with my watch —“ you start, but all words get caught in your throat when you see Miguel as you turn back toward him. He’s staring at you like a viscous predator just about to pounce. His chin is down but his eyes are on you, even darker than usual and penetrating. You can tell by the rise and fall of his ridiculously broad chest that his breathing is a bit labored. He’d clearly been looking lower than your face level, as his eyes shoot up to yours when you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like the longest, heaviest moment of your life so far. Then, in what feels like the quickest, he’s closed the distance between you, coming to a stop just in front of you, closer than he’s ever been to you before.

He’s towering over you. Any movement forward at all and you’d be touching. You’re sure he can feel your heavy breathing as you look up at him. You can feel his.  

He looks like he wants to murder you. But Miguel O’Hara has a way of encoding all emotions into shades of anger and aggression. And you’ve watched him closely enough for long enough to sometimes think you have an idea of what lies beneath. You haven’t cracked it completely, but you certainly see shades of gray where others see black and white. 

The stakes have never been quite this high for your getting it wrong, but hoping beyond hope that you know what he actually wants, you push your face the fraction of a distance to his, crashing your lips together. 

From the moment they graze, his hands are on you, groping your exposed ass with one, pulling you into him with the other. He devours your mouth, so feral you even worry for a split second about his fangs coming out. You’re so consumed by him you probably wouldn’t mind if they did.

Not breaking apart from you, Miguel takes the few steps back to his desk, dragging you with him. When the backs of his thighs come up to the desk, he flips you around so that you’re pushed up against it. You’re caged between it and his broad body as his hands continue exploring your body, his tongue continues exploring your mouth. 

At this point you can feel the huge bulge between his legs pressing against you, his spider-suit doing nothing to hide it, doing little to separate you from it. 

When his mouth leaves yours, dragging hungrily down to your jaw and neck, you whine his name. He groans in response, and you feel the vibrations where your chests are flush.

Taking the opportunity to do something you’d often dreamed of, you lift your hand and run it through his thick hair. His moans get louder, and you take it as a sign scratch and tug harder. 

You know you didn’t pull strongly enough to move him if he didn’t want to be moved, but he pops off from where he’s sucking on your neck and looks into your eyes. He gives you a harsh kiss then says simply, “Turn around.” You do. He bends you over his desk.

You feel his hands on your hips first then they squeeze your ass hard. He slaps your exposed cheek, and you jump at the sudden sensation. 

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he says, voice low. 

You nod and confess, “I want it rough, Miguel. Please.” “Fuuck, chula. You drive me crazy.” You just whimper in response. 

He spanks you again then tears your suit further, exposing your entire ass and your by now soaked cunt. “You walk in here with half your ass out like it’s nothing. Like you can show me what I spend my nights imagining and expect me not to do anything about it.” He slaps your other ass cheek. “You’re soaked, mami. You wanted this as badly as I did?” You nod desperately. “Tell me what you wanted.” “Fuck, Miguel. You. I wanted you.” 

“You want me to fuck you?” You can already feel him messing with his suit. 

“Yes, fuck, please; please fuck me.” When the head of his cock touches your cunt, your entire body shudders with anticipation. He pushes in forcefully, your wetness enough for him to start sliding in. But he’s big. Really big. As he keeps pushing, you feel a bit of a sting. When he hears you hiss, he slows his entrance but doesn’t stop entirely. “Relax, nena,” he coos. His hands massage your hips. “Breathe, baby.” You take a long inhale, and by the time you’re exhaling, you feel him finally bottom out. “Eso, mi amor. Just like that. Fuck, you feel incredible.” “Migueel,” you whine. “Yeah, baby, I got you.” His hands tighten on your hips as he slowly drags his cock back out until only his tip is inside. You’d never felt so empty. Then he pushes back in, faster than the first time. And again. And again. 

Miguel’s pace quickens probably a bit faster than you’re ready for, but you love the intensity of the sensations. You love the feeling of him deep inside you, of him desperate to be deeper. You start rocking back in time with his thrusts, slamming your ass onto him. 

“Fuuuck.” His voice is gravel. One of his powerful hands comes to your shoulder to help pull and push you at his now brutal rhythm. He fucks you with a stamina only possible for a superhuman. You’re sure you wouldn’t be able to take it if you weren’t one yourself.

The large room echoes your slapping skin, your yells and moans as he spears into you repeatedly.

Your thighs tighten as you start nearing your climax. Your cunt starts squeezing tighter. “Fuck, fuck, eso, nena, eso,” he chants, getting even rougher. His praises start sounding strangled, and you know he’s close too. 

“Cum with me, Miguel,” you beg desperately. He groans animalistically at your words, giving you a strangled affirmative moan and pushing his pace to what you imagine is his limit. 

“C’mon, baby, cum for me, cum for me,” he urges. It’s easy to let go with how hard he’s fucking you. You can’t really feel the rest of your body except for a hot heaviness. All you feel is where you’re connected and how every thrust sends pure pleasure coursing through you. 

You’re orgasming a second later, and to the feeling of your clenching cunt and the sound of your euphoric screams, Miguel comes right after. 

You’re unable to keep up your movements, too spent and too blissed out, but he keeps thrusting, albeit slower, until you’ve both rode out the hardest orgasms of your life. Then and only then does he still, still inside you, and collapse onto your back. His broad torso covers you completely, warming you despite how sweaty you are now.

His labored breathing on the back of your neck tickles, sending a shiver down your body. He chuckles and peppers kisses on your neck and shoulder, pulling your suit down to kiss at more skin. 

He eventually lifts himself up; you were never going to push him off, that’s certain. You could spend forever under him, wrapped up in him. 

His strong hands lift your especially malleable body, turning you to face him and helping support you as you lean back on the desk. 

When your eyes meet, Miguel smiles at you. It stops your rapidly beating heart. 

One arm around you, his other hand pushes sweaty hair off your face then lingers there, caressing. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. You just nod. He laughs. “What?” you giggle. “So that’s what it takes to make you stop talking, huh?” “Shut up!” you tsk, shoving his wall of a chest. He doesn’t budge at all, just catches your hand in his, bringing it to his face and kissing it. His lips linger over the skin of your fingers, the back of your hand. You trace them lightly, and they shift into a subtle grin. 

As you look into his big brown eyes, you’re pretty sure you know what this ever-thinning shade of serious is covering.

“Miguel?” 

“Hm?” He pecks your hand again. 

“All those missions… they weren’t ‘potentially significant’ were they?” 

He lowers your hand but keeps it in his. His gaze follows your hands down, looking away briefly, but he’s looking into your eyes again when he shakes his head ever so subtly. You hum in understanding. He just needed to make sure you were okay after.

After a beat, you whisper, “Can we stop pretending?” “That the missions are special?” “That what we feel for each other isn’t…” 

“Ah.” He looks torn. You know he thinks it’s dangerous, know he feels the weight of literally the entire universe on his very broad shoulders. You lean up and kiss him gently. 

“We can figure it out,” you whisper against his lips. His nose brushes yours as he nods then kisses you again. 

[2tcs]

Day 5: Family Grudge and Prize

Bruce has noticed something about Damian. Whenever a specific shadow appears in the city, Damian immediately attacks them. And anytime someone else approached, the shadow would flee.

Last night was one such incident.

~~~~The Previous Night~~~~

“So we meet again traitor.” Damian said launching himself at another young boy.

“Ha! Do you really think that you can win?” The young man laughed.

“Tt. I do not think I can. I know I can. It is you who are blinded by their arrogance.” Damian growled as he threw several batarangs at his opponent.

“Then why did you bring your dear old dad?” The mystery boy said before backflipping off the building and disappearing as Bruce landed on the roof.

“Robin report.”

“Tt. It is my own business father. Please stay out of it.” Damian said before quickly grappling away and heading back to the cave.

~~~~Present Time~~~~

“You have been staring at that picture for quite some time Master Bruce. Might I inquire as to why?” Alfred asked as he walked up to Bruce with a mug.

“I just can’t figure out why Damian keeps going after this one person. Even when he was trying to kill Tim he wasn’t this in sight with him. But with this boy?” Bruse sighed as he took a sip of his tea. “Camamil Alfred?”

“I find it quite relaxing and the perfect beverage before bed. Somewhere I believe you should be heading sir?” Alfred commented with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile.

“Hmm, and I don’t suppose this one is free of any sedatives is it Alfred?”

“I promise you that I have no clue what you are talking about.”

“Alright, alright. I’m heading upstairs.” Bruce chuckled as he headed upstairs with Alfred.

~~~~

The next day Bruce woke up for Sunday brunch with his family. It was one of the few days that everyone was at the manor. As Bruce began to wake up he also began to notice how quiet it was at the table. Unnaturally quiet. Looking around he noticed all his kids glaring at him, except for Damian who was glaring at a boy around fifteen years of age sitting across from him.

“So,” Bruce cleared his throat only for everyone to start shouting over each other.

“Why the FUCK did you adopt another kid old man!” Jason's shout rang out above everyone else's causing the room to go quiet again.

“Father did not adopt this traitor. He is only here to cause pain and discord.” Damian growled. Only holding himself back from attacking the stranger because of Alfred's rule about violence in the manor.

“Oh shove off Dams. He’s my father too. I have every right to meet him.” The stranger said.

“No! You lost the right to be considered family after what you did. It’s the reason why grandfather had you killed and it was only because of mother’s soft heart that you were resurrected and sent to be adopted by some stupid civilians.” Damian shouted while stabbing his spoon into his parfait.

“Wait! Hold on and tell me, calmly, what is going on.” Bruce said while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“This traitor”

“Not a traitor”

“This Traitor. Is Danyal Al Ghul. We unfortunately shared mother's womb.” Damian said as he continued to glower at the boy, Danyal.

“I go by Danny now.” Danny said with a wave.

“Hello, Danny. If I ask you why it is that Damian called you a traitor, would you answer?” Bruce asked with a strained smile.

“It’s so stupid.” Danny groaned.

“It is far from ‘stupid’ Danyal.”

“I didn’t mean to break your favorite wakizashi!”

“Liar. You were jealous that I was grandfather's favorite so you sought to punish me for my superiority.”

“Grandfather is a fruitloop! A certified wackjob! Even when we were kids I could tell that! You’ve lived with father for years now. Surely you can see grandfather’s flaws with this new perspective. If not then congratulations. You are the grand champion of delusion. Here’s your prize.” Danny said with a glair of his own directed at Damian.

“Wait. Hold on. Are you the twerp that the demon brat attacked the other night?” Jason asked with a grin.

“He does match the build.” Tim muttered.

“Secret brother.” Cass whispered while giving Danny a thumbs up.

“Ha! Not a secret anymore. But I didn’t come here just to meet ya’ll.” Danny laughed before turning serious. “I know about Alfred's rule about batwork at the table but I have things to do and can’t stay long. When you return to the batcave you will find a folder with a printed copy of a rather concerning law and a flash drive with a list of facilities and experiments conducted with full government sanctions due to this law being in place.” Danny described before placing the last bite in his mouth and standing up. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of eating your delicious cooking Alfred. But unfortunately, I have to go. If you need to contact me, my number’s in the folder.” He said before simply vanishing with a final wave.

“Where did he go!” Dick shouted as he jumped up.

“Holy crap. And I thought it was creepy how Damian could do that in the shadows.” Steph said with a shiver.

“Uh, Damian? Can you do that too? If so, then thank you so much for not using that ability for evil.” Duke chuckled nervously.

“Tt” Getting up Damian stormed out of the room. He didn’t care what Danyal did or said as long as he didn’t come back. Now he just had to get to the cave before anyone else to get rid of Danyal’s contact information.

[fanofstuff01]

Okay this post was originally supposed to be longer and going into more depths of the subject but I decided to separate it in parts. Because I cannot write that long of an essay in one day lmao

But anyway here's part one

Wohoo

Why Adam from Hazbin Hotel Not Coming Back In Future Seasons Doesn't Make Sense (To Me)

Part One: Logical Problems

Now this section, even though it is still my favorite in the parts, can be fixed easily if Vivienne just gives a logical answer to all of it. But it is just my perspective and what I saw from this show.

Let's get started yippie

-

A: Him not coming back contradicts the show in my opinion.

-You see, when Sir Pentious died to Adam's holy light, all the other characters react like they think he's one hundred percent gone. And it was previously stated by Vivziepop that sinners cannot die unless it's from an angelic weapon, otherwise they just respawn somewhere else in Pride hence why the exterminations exist.

So this implies that Sir Pentious died permanently here, from an angelic attack and then became a winner, in other words respawned in Heaven.

Then.. Why can’t Adam, someone who we know (for now) that died to a weapon designed to kill souls permanently, come back exactly Vivzie? This doesn't make any cucking sense for me. Why are you showing us that a soul can rise after being perma killed, but then treat as if the other Alex Brightman died permanently and now there's no way for him to come back?

-"But maybe they didn't know that Sir Pentious could come back, they just learnt that angels could be harmed. (Yes someone literally said this)"

Oh you mean these characters, who include the Princess of Hell and a literal ex exorcist, don't know about one of the core reasons why exterminations are held in the first place?

Suure.

-"You wouldn't be sad and attack the person who did it if someone killed your friend even though you knew they'd be back? Their reactions don't essentially translate to them not knowing about the permanent death thing."

I would and I can definitely understand them still being incredibly devastated and going feral about his death even though it’s temporary, but then why does the show treat Pentious' death like something these characters think is permanent? Why does Charlie refer to his death as “Ultimate sacrifice”? Hell, this entirely contradicts the sense of finality and sorrow his sacrifice had. 

And to add to both questions, why would Adam come to the exterminations with a weapon that doesn’t kill sinners permanently? Specifically one where he knows that there’ll be folks that will try to fight them and folks he would be more than pleased to wipe out permanently? 

-I know I sidetracked to talking about Sir Pentious more than Adam here, but since he is the only soul we know that changed the place he was in afterlife he is the most relevant character when it comes to this discussion about Adam in my opinion.-

-”We don’t know if angel souls are equal to sinner souls when it comes to this. Maybe the angels simply cannot be killed unless it is permanent, and the show actually hints at this given everyone thought that the angels were invincible.”

This is the only argument I can get behind actually. But it is not because it’s a valid one for the right reasons, it is the only one that makes sense to me because the writers were lazy on this too. 

Then what happens when an angel is harmed with a non-angelic weapon? -Also maybe off topic but what makes something an angelic weapon? We see Cherri Bomb throw bombs at them or okay maybe angelic bombs are a thing, but Charlie shoot-kills the exorcists with the fireworks that come out of her fingers?- Do they just.. Respawn? Or it just doesn’t hurt them? Then wouldn’t a character as smart as Vaggie would’ve figured out that they can very well be killed permanently if they are able to get hurt? 

Not answered. And it’s not helped by how the show openly portrays winners, which may I remind you Adam is one no matter how powerful he is, as the complete opposite of sinners, which would take you to assuming the angelic steel works like it does on sinners for demons. It just doesn't make sense to me.

And it wouldn’t make sense in the next section either.

B: Him not coming back doesn’t make sense in the story or the worldbuilding in my opinion

Just a little disclaimer, I’m not all means a professional media critic and do not say what I say here comes from that distinction. It's just me sharing myself lol.

Also I may use the terms incorrectly due to my broken English skills.

-Okay. So what is Hazbin about? Demons getting redeemed and therefore getting into Heaven for becoming better people, right? Also showing us that everyone can change and they shouldn't be seen as who they are at the moment and they all deserve a second chance.

At least that's what I get from the show. Now..

Why isn't the previously good now bad, being punished at the same level the previously bad now good is being rewarded? Why are you saying that becoming bad would give you an easy escape through death, while becoming good can get you to somewhere better?

Being on Hell is a PERFECT way to punish corrupted holy souls. Because you often become corrupted in the way of arrogance in Heaven, and now you're humored by the universe and by the people you used to mock and see yourself above as but this world's ways don't allow that.. Okay?

Speaking of, this also frustrates me on the world's mechanics and how they work. Sure, it can be that way, but.. Sorry if thinking about a "Divine Judgement" that makes you rise for being good but doesn't make you fall for being bad doesn't make sense in my book..

I can't express my point in this one quite well like I did with the other one but it just melts my brain dude. Like on one hand, on the positive hand, you're saying that if you're on the bad side you can change for the better and that's what matters, but you can't change from good to bad and have the same levels just negative and simply.. Die??

I just.. Can't. Sorry if this part is messier.

-

So this is it.

Will be multiple parts stay tuned ig

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @beef-brisket

yea im delulu sue me

[theweepingangelofcas]

Eat The Rich, Feed Them to the Cats - Moriarty Bros x Reader

Anyone else in the USA having a crisis? Me too! Let's all maladaptive daydream together that our sweet dear Sherlock boys are with us, on our side.

Title is inspired by a fav nonprofit cat shelter of mine, Wonky Hearts Animal Haven. Please go check them out. They have stories that are truly so heartwarming and uplifting, it's a great distraction.

(No, I do not believe all men are bad. I myself have a male fiance whom I love and trust very much. But the election has left me feeling helpless and scared, as though my rights or my body don't matter. I'm writing this to vent. I respect if your political opinions are different than me, but I ask that you do not attack me in the comments, my dm's, etc)

******************

William Moriarty

You two had been together for years now, since you two were teenagers. You've shared everything. Hopes, dreams, ideals... So when he saw someone try to harass you simply because of your gender? That won't do.

"Oi! Pretty broad!"

The random man's words did little to phase you. You didn't even speed up your footsteps. But your dear William stopped in his tracks.

Oh, yes, that's right. No one had ever been stupid enough to cat call you with him around before.

"Y/N..." his gaze had turned to the man, unblinking, "Did you not hear what that man just so crudely yelled at you?"

You shrugged, stopping in your tracks to try and let him catch up to you. He didn't dare move.

"It's nothing, William. Happens all the time to us ladies."

If you didn't know better, you'd say his eye just twitched.

"Is that so? And here I was, thinking it was mostly noblemen who were the rotten part of our society."

He smiled then. Like his mind wasn't 100% alongside you anymore.

His cane left the ground, being weilded in both hands almost like a baseball bat.

Or, more accurately, perhaps he was holding it like a mace.

It was safe to say, no man went within a few dozen meters of you for quite some time after that. After all, you always had your dear William with you now.

Louis Moriarty

Oh, did you think William would be protective?

Ha!

Louis is SO MUCH WORSE

To be completely fair, he was already practically a guard dog for both you and William. You had been engaged to him for a few months, and each passing day he just wanted to spend more time by your side.

This was how he found out how truly awful some men could be.

You two had boarded a train back to Durham, coming back from a lunch date together. You two had managed to score a semi-private spot in the lunch car, meaning that he could hold you without too much fuss from the rest of society. One hand was in yours, the other wrapped around your waist. You had both ordered drinks, his a sophisticated Earl Grey tea, yours a refreshing seltzer water. That was when your waiter came back up to you both.

"Sir, I know this is quite uncouth of me to say, but the gentleman a few seats down won't stop staring at your lady friend there." He gestured to you, specifically your chest, and you seemed to shrink into your seat instantly.

Louis scowled, "Thank you for informing me. You're dismissed, good sir."

The waiter stepped away, and Louis's grip on you got tighter.

"It's fine, darling. You mustn't fret." You tried to comfort him, but his scowl only deepened.

"I will fret." He turned his head, catching eyes with a man a few booths down. He did, indeed, seem to be staring at you. "And I'm going to teach him to respect others, or die trying."

You saw Louis stand, and approach the man in a terrifying calmness. He shook his hand, and gestured for him to follow him.

If you happened to see a person-shaped figure get thrown out of the train that day, no one has to know.

Albert Moriarty

He understands deep, seething rage. He dealt with it much when he was younger. So he understands that the best way to deal with it, is to take care of it yourself.

Normally, women weren't allowed into a prestigious college. But Albert, with his power and wealth, managed to convince the school that having one woman among its ranks wouldn't hurt. Hence, you being halfway through a science and medicine degree. Albert supported you all the way through. Your husband truly was a lovely, understanding man.

"It was fascinating, my love!" Your eyes lit up as you opened your textbook to that day's lesson, "We learned about the chambers of the heart, and all the illnesses and diseases that can correlate to it's health. Isn't that so cool!"

His smile widened at seeing you happy, "It certainly is, my dear. Do go on, teach me more about it."

You nodded, eyes bright, about to keep talking before-

"I'm sure anything is fascinating to a woman. But can she even understand it? Why, she should be at home, not trying to educate herself on something she could never possibly understand."

A man had approached you both. His smug grin was enough to dampen your joy immediately.

Albert blinked, his expression blank, before turning his head back to you, "My dear, would you like my walking stick, or do you want to use your textbook? After all, this fine gentleman seems in need of an anatomy lesson."

Your grin came back, "Your walking stick, please. I'd rather not get my favorite chapter dirty."

The man's eyes flew open as you took the wooden cane from Albert, weilding it more like a weapon than an aid.

"Now," The excitement in your expression was back, "I'll give you an anatomy lesson as I break all of your bones in alphabetical order."

[seonne]

Calm after the storm

Very not proofread lols

Silence.

A bone chilling, crushing, heavy silence.

It stretches its claws like sharp tendrils, pricking at his lungs as he tried to breathe. Clammy hands searched the ice cold floor in the dark, grabbing onto anything and everything that isn't a smooth wall.

Until he found a hand.

Gripping it, he grunted as he pulled himself upright. The shallow breaths through his broken nose didn't help slow his pants as he tugged at the hand in the darkness.

A whine should be heard. A hiss should be choked out. But instead, he heard silence.

Dynamight is a man of little to no fears. He's a hero, after all. Number two at that. But the one thing that shakes him to the core is the calm not before, but after the storm.

Specifically, the still calm after a horrible storm.

It's these moments of calm when the devastation truly sinks in, exhaustion not yet settling with the adrenaline still buzzing in his veins.

It's these moments of feeling the loss that he hates.

He groaned in pain as he flexed his injured leg. His hand reached down the mystery hand to grab onto their arm and pull them up onto him.

Who is it? He's not sure.

But whoever it is should not be this still.

"Wake up, damn it..."

He jabbed two fingers near their wrist, feeling around for a pulse. When he really concentrated, a soft thumping brushed against his fingers.

"Hey... hey dumbass. Come on, wake the hell up..."

Nothing.

The radio machine attached to his shoulder straps stopped working after the super sonic wave attack that debauched villain made. His last message was to call for backup, so at least he knew that someone was on their way.

He felt around in his pocket, checking for his emergency light when the person against him groaned softly.

Feeble, weak.

Definitely not on their deathbed.

Cursing at his injured leg for hurting him so much, Pro Hero Dynamight hauled the person into his arms and got up on shaky legs. Feeling around for a wall with his freer hand, he let the wall guide him along towards wherever the hell the exit was. More curses strewn against the cave's walls echoed back to him as he occasionally kept an ear out for any other movements or noises from the person over his shoulder.

Crimson liquid dripped down his eyebrow, falling heavily on his eyelash, making him wipe it on his glove before moving his hand back to the wall. Red streaks glistened along the cave walls. Not that he could see them anyway.

Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Dynamight was willing to bet his injured leg that he's been stuck in this cave for about half a day now.

Excruciating minute after minute, he started feeling like he was in one of those pathetic survival stories. Those stories of people falling down a cave or a manhole and having to be rescued afterwards. But he wasn't like them, no. He's gonna find his own way out, even if he had to lug along this idiot who got caught by that dumbass villain. Chest heaving, determination filled his eyes as he kept walking with his hand along the wall.

Hours must've turned to days, leaving no hope for him to find a safe exit. Then came the doubts: "What if I'm going the wrong way?" "What if I'm going deeper in?" "What if I'm hours away from home?" "What if I've come in so far that backup can't reach me?" "What if-"

No. He had to stop. He wasn't alone in this, he's carrying a nitwit on his shoulder. It probably hasn't been days, this person would've woken up by then. But if it has been days, then...

Suddenly, a flash of something caught his eye. He squinted, having not seen much for so long that he couldn't register if he was actually seeing something. But, sure enough, in the distance he saw a spot of light. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the spot grow bigger with more the distance that he covered.

"Fucking finally... About time-"

"Pro Hero Dynamight! Dynamight, sir! Can you hear us? Are you here?"

He scoffed out a laugh as he heard the panicked voices of his sidekicks.

"Oi! Yeah, I can hear ya."

More sighs, exasperated ones and ones of relief. As he approached the mouth of the cave, his eyes registered the numerous faces standing before him, hands extended to take the unconscious person off his shoulders and towards the paramedics. Their faces scrunched in pity and worry as they rushed the person to the ambulance.

Dynamight sighed heavily as he sat down on one of the makeshift chairs he was provided and unscrewed the water bottle his sidekick gave him.

"Finally... I thought I'd never get out of there. My wife would've been so upset if I died disgracefully in a rotten cave. Can't wait to fucking go home already..."

The sidekicks exchanged worried glances at each other which the Pro Hero promptly noted.

"What? Did she call or something?"

From a distance, the panicked voices of the paramedics could be heard.

"She's flatlining!" "Quick! Get the defribillator!" "It's not working, we're losing her!"

Dynamight turned his head towards the panic in shock.

"Shit, is the person dying? I knew there was something wrong with them... Let me go check-"

"No sir! I-I mean you should probably stay here, one of us will look over them!"

His sidekick chuckled nervously and slipped towards the chaos, another one of his sidekicks sitting beside him instead. He cocked a blonde brow at the nervous sidekick but sighed and turned his face, hoping for the best for the person he rescued.

"Did my wife call or anything when I didn't get home on time?"

The rookie cleared his throat as he squirmed beside him. Dynamight frowned, frustrated but unsurprised.

"Well? Just open your mouth and speak up! Did she?"

The sidekick shied away from the piercing red gaze of his superior as said superior's patience ticked like a clock.

Just as he was about to explode, a paramedic approached him with a solemn look. He lowered his head towards Dynamight.

"I am so sorry for your loss. We tried everything but... they didn't make it."

Dynamight's face fell as a hollowness filled his chest.

Ah.

So the person he saved didn't make it.

He nodded at the medic before standing up.

"Can I see them?"

The paramedic nodded before guiding him towards the ambulance. Medics were running to and fro around the ambulance, but as he approached them, they all halted to stare at him for a while. Paying no mind to the unwarranted attention, he jogged slightly towards the ambulance and let the doctor guide him inside.

The moment he saw the face of the person, time stopped. The world stopped spinning and everything went zipping past his ringing ears, his eyes welling with blood and sweat. His broken nose healed for a moment's fresh air before bearing the pain of the broken bone all over again and his lungs stopped pricking as he stopped breathing.

The air felt stale, the silence from earlier falling over him again, but this time, broken by the sorrowful voice of a female doctor.

"Y/n Bakugou. Time of death, 23:11."

Phewwww I don't know what came over me. I guess exam season brings out the best in me.

[purrpleowl]

I don't know if anyone has mentioned something like this already, but this thought has been on my mind for quite some time;

You know who I wanted to see having a duet with Alastor (song battle style)? Velvette.

Hear me out.

There's something similar between the two songs Alastor interrupts, Stayed Gone and Hell's Greatest Dad, especially when it comes to the duality between Alastor's part and the other person's part. Something that I admit I didn't notice at first, but I saw some people commenting on.

Let's talk about Stayed Gone first: all Vox has to say is that Alastor is old and Vox is new. He uses different words every time (fossil, barely audible, his medium is getting rare...), but that's his only argument. While Alastor attacks right into Vox's insecurities. He says that Vox's content is low quality and inconsistent, he belittles Vox's power, and pokes at the wound that was Alastor refusing to "join Vox's team" (whatever that means, not important for my point here).

In Hell's Greatest Dad, Lucifer talks about how he can be useful to Charlie. How he can give her Champagne fountains & caviar mountains without charging her. Alastor focuses on how his relationship to Charlie is (supposedly) very close. He says he's faithful to her, that he makes her laugh, that they have a special bond... Which is what Charlie values most.

ALL THAT TO SAY that Alastor is very good at reading the room, figuring out what people are on about. Now, what other demon we see that has showed to have those same skills and has used them to her advantage in the show? That's right, Velvette.

With a SINGLE glance, she was able to identify that Carmilla was the one that killed the exorcist because of her facial expressions and body language. And then she proceeded to poke Carmilla and Zestial until one of them snapped.

Also, just like I bet Alastor definitely doesn't believe a single word he's saying to Charlie in Hell's Greatest Dad, he just wanted to get under Lucifer's skin while manipulating Charlie, I highly doubt Velvette was serious about starting an actual war with the angels. She (and the Voys too, probably) had a suspicion that it had been an overlord who did it, and she went and tested the theory.

I just think it would be great to finally see someone publicly call Alastor out on all of his bullshit, and Velvette is (in my opinion, of course) a very good character for the role. Besides being very perceptive and good at reading into people's bullshit (she also does that with Vox when she is introduced btw).

She likes to annoy old people, she probably has some background on Al that Vox possibly provided her while lacking the insecurities that Vox has when it comes to Alastor.

It would be very satisfying (to me at least) to see her call him a coward in his face (because he fled Adam's fight when he got injured), or that he might hate Vox but he definitely loooves the attention because he's an attention whore (bonus points if she uses this specific term just to make him uncomfortable). Or even that he's trying so hard to keep this "ominous mysterious dangerous" persona while he's 1- not that powerful, 2- starting to get emotionally attached to the "good guys".

ALSO "you'd be powerless without the Vees" sir you can't convince me that 3 very powerful overlords can't beat 1 up. The Vees are powerful on their own but they're more powerful together and Vox's insecurities aside, they all know it. Alastor is alone, he might be friends with Rosie or the Hotel crew, but his pride wouldn't allow him to seek help in battle, or even emotional help.

Also 2.0 there's the fact that he's been gone for 7 years and while Velvette (and us) might have no idea what he's been up to, I bet the Vees have been growing and expanding their power while Alastor is the same since he left.

So yeah, I think she'd be so great on roasting Alastor. I don't know if I'll ever have a song battle between them but I sure think it would be interesting.

[trensu]

Heyyy, long time no post, huh? I'm dropping another chunk of stasis in darkness for you guys! And I wanted to remind people that these posts are basically rough drafts. The final product will hopefully be more polished but in the meantime please enjoy!

--

After Steve convinced the old man he meant no harm, he’d been allowed into the home. The Lord of Night hadn’t been super specific about the purpose of his quest, only that Steve had to bring him to Wayne Munson. Steve discreetly looked around the home as he entered it. The old man was obviously unwell and had been for a while, given the state of the house. Steve had the creeping suspicion that the time limit the Lord of Night mentioned was linked to the man’s health.

“What are you doing?” Wayne Munson asked suspiciously once he had returned to the kitchen with Steve in tow. He had sat heavily in one of the old worn chairs at the table but Steve, instead of joining him, began to clear the table on impulse. Steve halted awkwardly.

“This ain’t your house, boy,” Wayne said with a scowl. “I can take care of myself.”

Steve did his very best not to look at the scattered mess in the kitchen or living room. It was not the mess of a dirty, careless person. It was the mess of someone tired and overwhelmed. It was the mess of someone in pain who was too proud to ask for help. Steve took in Wayne Munson’s watery eyes, wan skin, and the clothes that were plain things, tattered from use, but mostly stain-free. Steve quickly added all these details and came up with a plan of attack. He set the plate back down.

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed easily. “I’m aware, but I serve the Lord of Night and he sent me to you specifically. In our god’s name, I must assist you in any way I can.” 

Wayne’s expression wavered. Steve pushed again. He lowered his gaze in a slightly embarrassed manner, letting a note of uncertainty color his words.

“I don’t know what else to do until nightfall,” Steve said. He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t want him to think I’ve neglected you.”

“What happens at nightfall?” Wayne asked.

“It’s when the Lord of Night wants to see you,” Steve said. Wayne blinked.

“Me? He wants to see me?”

“Yeah! So, if you could please let me,” Steve said, putting on his most endearing smile, “I’d like to take care of you until then. You know, make sure you’re comfortable and get the place ready for a divine visit. If it’s not too much trouble, sir?”

“Uh, no, that should be fine. Is…is there anything I should do?” Wayne asked dazedly.

“Not really. All I know is he really wants to see you tonight. Oh, maybe you’d like to rest until then? A nap, so you’re not drowsy when he arrives.”

Wayne nods, still in shock at the news. He didn’t protest when Steve helped him out of the chair and let him lean his weight on him as they navigated to the bedroom. Wayne sat on the bed as Steve drew curtains closed over the room’s single window. The curtains were thick enough to dim the sun to a pale yellow glow.

“I didn’t know there was anyone else who followed him,” Wayne said as he lay himself down over the covers.

"He told me you’re the only one left, besides me,” Steve told him. “And I only discovered him a month ago by accident.”

“By accident?” Wayne asked with a wry grin.

“My friends found a holy text when we were researching other gods. It was the only one of his in the city's whole library. Then we had a hell of a time trying to find his last shrine. When I finally found it, it was falling apart. He’s been forgotten,” Steve said. At Wayne’s troubled expression, he hurriedly added, “But now that I’ve pledged myself to him, I’m going to make sure people know him again.”

Wayne did not appear convinced, but he finally settled to rest after Steve promised to wake him before sunset. Steve took the opportunity to clean. He hadn’t been lying to Wayne when he said he wasn’t sure what to do until nightfall. It didn’t help that Steve also liked to keep himself busy. Being idle made him itch.

The house was small. Aside from Wayne's bedroom, there was only a cramped kitchen and a modest living room. From the small window of the backdoor, Steve could see a short, worn path to an outhouse. 

Given the size of the house, though there was a mess everywhere, it didn’t take Steve very long to clean it all. When it was done to his satisfaction, there were still a few hours left until sunset so he wandered outside. The porch railing was covered with broad green leaves from intertwining vines but Steve left that alone when he saw the small garden nearby. It was full of ripe vegetables that Steve assumed Wayne had been unable to pick himself given his condition. 

By the time Steve had picked the vegetables, pulled the weeds, and watered the garden, the sun hung low in the horizon. He cleaned himself up the best he could in the kitchen sink and took one of the chairs from the table to the bedroom before waking Wayne.

He told Wayne what he accomplished during Wayne’s repose. While Wayne expressed his gratitude politely enough, it was still apparent to Steve that the old man was irritated at having needed the assistance at all. To keep Wayne from dwelling on that, as well as to satisfy his own curiosity, he coaxed Wayne into conversation.

“Can I ask, uh, how you–I mean, how did you know? How did you know the Lord of Night existed?"

Wayne laughed at Steve’s befuddled tone. The laugh turned into a coughing fit. Steve quickly fetched him a glass of water and put it on the bedside table after Wayne had a drink.

“My family’s a bunch of no-good criminals,” Wayne croaked. “Were. It’s only me now. But before, each generation of Munsons took it up. Like a family tradition.”

“Criminals?” asked Steve cautiously. 

“Thieves and con men. Some ladies of the night, if you catch my meaning. They knew of our Lord of Night and passed the knowledge down,” Wayne sighed sadly. “The life of a criminal ain’t what you call stable. We lost bits and pieces of him with every generation. Like his name. No one’s known his name for a very long time. Is that why he wants to see me? Did I fail him?”

There was genuine distress in Wayne’s question so Steve hid his disappointment. He had hoped the Lord of Night’s last worshiper would at least have a clue about where to start the search for the lost name. He focused, instead, on reassuring the old man.

“I don’t know why he wants to see you, but he wasn’t angry when he sent me. He sounded excited.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Wayne said uncertainly.

“Definitely,” Steve assured. Before Wayne could sink into his gloom again, Steve said, “I know you said you’ve lost some knowledge, but do you know if the Lord of Night has any prayers? I haven’t…I mean, I’ve tried to worship him but I don’t think I can do it right without a prayer. I’m kind of new at all this.”

“My ma used to say our Lord didn’t have patience for formalities,” Wayne said, brow furrowed. “They bored him so he only had a few official prayers. There was one where we’d thank him for any dreams he gave us. I think there was another one that asked for dreams to bring inspiration or something of that sort. I don’t really remember those–ma would be boxing my ears for that if she was still around. I remember the one for protection, since we used that one a lot. It goes: 

Lord of Night,  Guide us through all phases Of the moon; May the dark be free of All dangers, While your many stars burn.

Wayne’s voice cracked into a coughing fit near the end. Steve hurriedly offered him water again once Wayne had caught it again. Wayne took a few mouthfuls and repeated the prayer again so Steve could learn it. It took a few tries, but Wayne was patient and by the end of it, Steve had it memorized.

“Is that the only one?” Steve asked, hoping to learn more. Wayne grimaced.

“It’s the only one I really remember. The Lord of Night prefers stories. My ma would tell us the best bedtime stories. Said they were for our god as much as for me and my brother. I was never good at coming up with new stories, so I retell my favorites or tell our Lord about my days and give him a little offering.”

Steve wasn't much of a story teller. He supposed he could do as Wayne did until he met up with Robin and Dustin again. They constantly chatted about books they’d read. Steve couldn’t help but notice how, once again, his friends seemed a better fit for his god than he was; all Steve could give his god was his shield and sword. It was discouraging. He had to figure out a way to make up for it somehow.

“What kind of offerings?” Steve asked. 

He wanted to give his god more; he wanted to give the Lord of Night something he’d actually like. It wasn’t lost on him that the Lord of Night took him under duress. Who else would’ve been able to complete this quest? 

“When I was young, it was horse shoes,” Wayne chuckled at Steve’s confusion. “Thieves are supposed to give him a part of their loot but my ma and pa were horse thieves. They got horseshoes and would leave one for each horse they stole, tied with a braid made of the stolen horse’s mane.”

“You stole horses?” Steve said, unable to fight off a grin as he remembered the conversation he had with the Lord of Night about it.

“Me and my brother, before he passed,” Wayne said with a weak nod. 

The sky had darkened by now. Steve pulled the stone out of his satchel. He carefully unwrapped it from the cloth and set it gently on the bedside table next to the glass of water. Wayne eyed it quizzically.

“It’s from his shrine,” Steve explained. Without any further fussing, Steve stood up and went to the door.

“Don’t leave,” the Lord of Night said. 

Steve turned to see the god, hooded in his cloak of constellations, sitting in the chair Steve had vacated. The Lord of Night had not even glanced Steve's way when he spoke to him. The god’s attention rested solely on Wayne.

Steve hadn’t seen or spoken to the Lord of Night since he’d been accepted as his holy warrior. The god had needed to conserve his energy, he explained to Steve, so that Steve could complete his quest. The god’s cloak was as mesmerizing as the first time. However, this far from the shrine, the god did not look as solid as he had during the nights he spent with Steve. 

“I wanted to give you two some privacy,” Steve said softly. 

“I think Wayne would appreciate not being alone,” the Lord of Night said. 

The old man stared at the god unblinkingly. Wayne’s expression was one of awe and fear, so Steve did as he was told and stayed in the room though he chose to lean on the wall furthest from the pair. He was still close to them in the tiny bedroom, but it provided the pretense of privacy.

“My Lord?” Wayne’s voice was barely audible.

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

“red flowers”: fae, vargas camp 2, and glorious masquerade

THERE’S SOMETHING IN VARGAS CAMP 2 THAT MADE ME DO A DOUBLE TAKE 👁️ 👄 👁️

So in 2-2, the pixies of the forest are trying to put out the campfires. The boys then talk about how there was a miner's campfire a while back that caused a forest fire, which naturally spooked the local fairies. AND THEN VIL GOES AND DROPS THIS DOOZIE OF A LINE:

EXCUSE ME, VI L SIR??????? ?? ? ???? ? ? ?? ? ? ? Did you just say RED FLOWERS? Is that not similar to the CRIMSON FLOWERS/LOTUSES that ROLLO tried to use to establish a magicless Twisted Wonderland in Glorious Masquerade?!

ADDENDUM: I learned recently (very shortly after this post went live, actually!) that the “red flowers” may also be a reference to what the animals in the live action Jungle Book call fires. I’m not personally familiar with this film, so I’ll be running with the crimson lotus/Glorious Masquerade connection for the duration of this post!!

Looking at how the phrases are written in Japanese, they use the term 赤い花 ("akai no hana"/red flower) in Vargas Camp and 紅蓮の花 ("guren no hana"/crimson lotus flower) in Glorious Masquerade. Crimson is basically a specific kind of red, and lotus is just a certain type of flower. Even more damning is that fact that in 3-8 of Glorious Masquerade, Malleus EXPLICITLY describes the spreading crimson flowers as having "a brilliance like that of fire". You can see from images of the crimson lotus that they do, indeed, seem to glow like fire.

If you look at the real life timeline of these events releasing, it also coincidentally lines up!! Like, the original release of Vargas Camp 2 (for JP server) was in mid to late SEPTEMBER 2022. Then Glorious Masquerade would come out mid to late OCTOBER 2022. Vargas Camp 2 was literally the new story event that came out RIGHT BEFORE Glorious Masquerade... WAS THIS FORESHADOWING??????????????? And even more importantly than that... What does this mean for fae??????

One could call "red flowers" just a poetic way for the pixies to label something they don't understand. But what's confusing is that there are clearly also fire pixies living in the forest; we see several of them in Vargas Camp attacking the students. It's not as though the fairies are unfamiliar with fire itself, so why not just call the campfires 'fires'?? What if... (and stick with me here) the pixies named the campfires thus because it's potentially a reference to something far deadlier (than even the forest fire) that they experienced or heard of in their history? In the time period of ~400 years ago shown to us in book 7, we learn that human invaders drove fae out of their homes and began mining their land for resources. This, more specifically, impacts the Briar Country up north, who are fighting against humans that arm themselves with iron (something which appears to repulse the fae). These humans are also known to use deceptive tactics, such as distracting the messenger team of Lilia and co. while they launch an assault on Mallenoa's castle, where she and her unborn son are. So... what's to say they wouldn't resort to other underhanded means as well? Mean such as... utilizing a flower known to suck out the magic from living beings :))) like maybe the... crimson lotus, perhaps?

In Glorious Masquerade, we learn that the crimson lotus has been extinct for a long time now. They were destroyed by humans centuries ago because of how dangerous they were to mages. We don't have an exact number of years, but "centuries" is enough to land it in the rough ballpark of the human-fae war. Malleus himself, who is canonically 178 years old, didn't even recognize the flowers at first (as very few records of them exist in modern times); this could imply that the crimson flowers were around before he was born, which further supports that they were present during the war era.

What's more, if we look at Maleficent: Mistress of Evil (ie the second live action Maleficent movie), we see a VERY strong parallel to the crimson lotus flower. In the film, we are introduced to the Tomb Bloom, a flower that just so happens to also be red and glows a little like fire.

UNCANNY RESEMBLANCE, NO? 🤡

Tomb Blooms are said to grow on the graves of fairies, and, when mixed with iron, creates "red dust". This red dust is considered deadly to fairies upon contact--and in the film, a fairy-hating queen lures a bunch of fae into a wedding venue to eliminate them en masse with the stuff. The crimson lotus flowers of TWST, meanwhile, are deadly on their own, draining the magic out of any magical being they touch (and permanently depriving them of magic once all the magic has been taken out of someone). For fae, who rely on magic for basically everything (travel, cooking etc.), it would be a miserable existence symbolically synonymous with death.

(Side note: in hindsight, this somewhat explains why Malleus is part of the Glorious Masquerade SSR trio. If the crimson lotus flowers were, in actuality, inspired by the Tomb Blooms (something which was weaponized against Maleficent and her kind), then it just makes so much sense for the antagonist of the event, Rollo, to utilize similar plants against Malleus, who is twisted from the Mistress of Evil herself.)

OKAY, now knowing all of that, here's what I propose as a possible timeline of events if we consider all of what I just said: ~400 years ago, crimson lotuses were plentiful. When the human-fae conflict escalated, the human side decided to play dirty to eliminate those pesky fae--because even the great Draconias would be susceptible to the magic-leeching properties of the flower. However, they discovered, upon repeated experimentation, that the flower could also harm their own mages, so they had to reformulate. Maybe this was when they learned that they could combine iron with the powdered lotus (increased surface area, and therefore also increased potency) to create something even more deadly to fae (like in Maleficent 2). Alternatively, this could contribute for the reasoning for the iron armor they wear in battle; iron repulses fae, but it could also protect them from the crimson lotus flowers due to how much of the skin it covers. For example, the Dawn Knight is said to wear a helmet that completely cover the face, and many Silver Owl NPCs do the same. There is little skin visible, unlike the armor of the Briar Country fae. But anyway, the point is that, some way or another, the humans abused the crimson lotus during this time. Once the war concluded (or in the period of reconstruction that followed), fae and humans came to an agreement to destroy all the lotuses as a part of their peace treaty/negotiations, agreeing that it was mutually beneficial to all magical creatures and mages. Humans were mainly responsible for this extinction, as there was a larger population of them that were magicless and could therefore handle the flowers without consequences. Because of the war engulfing an entire continent, fae in other parts of Twisted Wonderland would have heard about the events, fae migrated out of Briar Country to get away from the conflict, OR the conflict itself was a Twisted Wonderland-wide issue, not just contained within Briar Country. Any one of these could explain why eventually pixies on Sage's Island, in the Silent Woods (where the boys went camping), would know of the calamity caused by the crimson lotuses of the past. When they come across wild campfires, the pixies may be frightened by them due to their resemblance to the crimson lotuses and the trauma associated with war because it's human outsiders that are invading their home and propagating these 'fires'... the same situation as the human-fae war. There was the literal manmade forest fire that was far more recent, yes--but again, this doesn't fully explain why the pixies, who should be familiar with fire, would call it a "red flower" instead of just 'fire'. The association with "red flowers" being dangerous may be a result of what they recall from the war--that crimson flower which sapped away their strength and robbed them of their magic. Then, in modern day, we have Rollo somehow stumbling across seeds and breeding crimson lotuses of his own in secret for his own nefarious purposes. History (mayhaps???) repeating itself??????? ?? ? ????? ??? ??

DKJNsfhbvoqef32ygtr69r137fbofasib IDK, MAYBE I'M JUST TALKING OUT OF MY ASS AND EXTRAPOLATING TOO MUCH FROM LITTLE DETAILS 🤡 I just think it's kind of a fun theory, even if the whole timeline ends up being thrown out the window in the next main story update... Don't mind me, I'm still on my "Rollo will come save us all in a cruel and ironic twist of fate" copium--

[baohanhanesel]

World Praise Day with TF141

GN Reader, no warnings. Could be read as both platonic and romantic. 🤷

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick did see what was coming. The shit-eating grin on your face spoke loudly. He had a feeling you would make one of your casual "to blow off some steam" jokes until he saw your eyes look him up and down. He choked on thin air.

"Are you checking me out, mate?"

"Your body's a sight for sore eyes. The fair amount of muscle and flush skin." You brought your fingers to your lips, kissing them and flicking your wrist away; you sent him an air kiss. It damaged him as if you called an air strike on the guy.

"Load of bullshit, aren't you?" He laughed, eyes crinkling while he smiled

"There it is!" You threw your hands up in the air. "The beauty my art is inspired from!"

"Shut your trap, geez... Don't bring the sketchbook into this, sappy bastard." As much as he tried to play it cool he was flustered. His face got red and laughter started to sound lighter than ever.

"Love your smile" you say." The way your lips curl upward is mesmerizing. The shade of your lips is pretty by itself." The specific praise was doing things. You knew. He knew.

"About to kiss you with these pretty lips if you do not shut up." He chuckled, smirk wide as ever. He was happy and a kiss would only let you know just how happy you were making him. So when you did not stop, you were made just as happy as he was.

John "Soap" Mactavish had just joined you in the common room, you were ready to attack once you caught a glimpse of his messy mohawk.

"Always taking care of yourself like a good man. Even when it is messy it remains just as pretty. Do you even have bad hair days?" Your smile got wider and wider while you took his startled expression in. He blinked, then smiled brightly. "Would die for your smile, Mactavish. Pretty privileges everyday,"

"Yer aff yer heid, lass/lad. "He laughed hard, smirk bright as the damn sun. "Ya know how it feels tae hae the privilege How's it feel, ay?"

You flushed back at the counter attack and the smile. You were just about to make your own move before he reached for your hand "Haes seen war, aye breathtaking. You'd be mah choice in mah lest breath. If a'm jammy enough tae see ye as th' lest damned thing oan earth, ah'd already hae taken a taste o' heavens."

You stopped functioning. His heavy Scottish accent was getting your head fuzzy. The praise attack you started is getting overpowered by his flirt attack. And boy, he is winning.

"Mactavish." you warn him, yielding. He is too good you fear your face is no different than a tomato right now.

"Yah whit's it? My bad!" He brings your hand to his lips. "Ah cannae use mah bonny privileges now? Na? " Fuck him and his confident smirk. You don't know whether to slap him or kiss him.

Captain John Price had just light up a cigarette, letting it stay in-between his lips while he looked through the reports you just brought in.

"Another successful mission. We nailed the mission, captain. Saved our asses, without lead we'd be dead." Praising his work did little, but you had to start somewhere. He gave a tight lipped smile, exhaling the smoke. "Your hat's fitting you nicely, sir. The way it casts a shadow over your temple brings your eyes out. A sight, it is."

He grumble-laughs. You don't know which. You'll go with the latter though. "Your beard, too. Gathers your features together Strict 'n all?"

He dismisses you with a nod and a forced smile. You can see his eyes doing best to not look at you. "Can I get started on your scent?"

"Don't." he snorts, raising his one hand up to rub his temples, tilting his head down. You were about to yield until you notice he was actually trying to suppress a smile.

"I'd do just about anything to see that smile, sir. Makes me proud of myself." You blurt out, because you are willing to take your chances.

"Lovely cheeky thing "he chuckles, blush covering his entire face. "Pretty personality to match your face. You are a strong soldier, I am always proud of you."

Your smile widens.

"Happy world praise day, love." your smile falters, you end up laughing because he knew what you were at but despite it all he still let you humour him.

"Not a single word was a lie."

"As was mine. Back to work, love."

You shake your head, walking out of the office. Today's been very efficient so far.

Simon "Ghost" Riley was cleaning his gun while you were sitting across from him, sewing shut a gash on your uniform. You stole a few glances before collecting enough courage to speak. You were a brave soldier. Bravest of them all. You surely could praise the man before you with that courage.

"Good work" You beam "So fast too."

"Is all experience." He grunts. "You'd be fast too if your hand got on one of these." He had a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.

You had a feeling it was because you dislocated your shoulder in the last mission while using a rifle. It was bad luck. Not like you were that inexperienced. He just liked to toy with you.

"You are the best, lieutenant. I don't have to do much with cleaning."

"Because?"

"You clean the battlefield well enough for us all."

"As I should." So praising his work wouldn't work. "Your eyes, always so expressive. You like our banters, sir?"

"Naturally." He scolds, hands fidgeting with the gun.

"I like your presence. You are safe. You are the safe for me." He didn't utter a single word after that. "Always patient with me too. I am grateful for you. Can always rely on you. You are strong in every aspect."

You notice him hanging his head too low, eyes dragging on the ground. He is... flattered? You don't know but it doesn't seem bad. His eyes are actually very expressive as you stated earlier. But it is not enough to tell everything he feels. So you stop for a moment before he starts the conversation again.

"You trust a man with a mask?"

"I trust the man under that mask. Pretty like your knife skills, yeah? I never doubt it, witnessing it myself." This earns him a full-blown laughter.

"Enough." He cuts you then, standing up. He is burning red under that mask. He can't help but feel embarrassed. The silence caught into you, you blink at him. Did you go a bit too far?

"Thank you." he spats the word as if it is dirt in his mouth and he leaves, overwhelmed by you.

[jinx-xxed]

Beautiful Thing Caged

Chapter 3; Lost in the darkness, you will be found

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; I’ve been looking forward to this one 🙏 sorry it took me 12 years, now I can get to the good stuff hint hint nudge nudge

⇦ Part 2

Summary; You’ve made up your mind, and no one is going to get in your way.

Content; Werewolf AU, modern AU, werewolf Kylo Ren, human reader, or are they, scientist reader, soulmates, angst, reader has a small panic attack, running away from your problems, lying to and escaping the government, jailbreak time!!, Hux is an ass, size differences, Kylo gets bloody, murder, feral Kylo comes back for a second, becoming fugitives

[Each chapter will have specific content warnings]

Wc; 5.4k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

“You what?”

You straighten your posture under Hux’s scrutinizing gaze, holding firm. “I want him taken off the chains.”

He looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind, and he asks as such. “Have you lost your mind? Those are there as a safety procedure. Who knows what it’ll do if it’s taken off the chains.”

You can’t help the way your brows furrow at how Hux speaks, how he refers to Kylo as if he isn’t a person. He’s just something to be looked at and studied. “With all due respect sir, I’ve been the one down there with him day after day for the past two months. Allowing him off of the chains will help me get more data on him, I could see how he moves around and how it affects his behaviors. If the situation becomes too dangerous, then by all means, put him back on them. But please, let me just try.”

There’s a minute where nothing happens, where Hux doesn’t speak and instead just stares at you with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. It’s like you can see the way his brain is turning, thinking about all the results you’ve been able to get him. It works in your favor because he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a loud sigh. “You know what? Fine. I’ll sign my approval. I expect you to know what the fuck you’re doing.”

You smile despite yourself. “Thank you, sir.”

He waves a gloved hand, a glower still stuck on his face. “Don’t thank me. Just go home, doctor, before I change my mind.”

You dip your head, not one to disobey on something like that. “Of course. Goodnight, sir.”

You turn and leave Hux’s office, waves of accomplishment rippling through your body and adding an extra spring to your step. Removing the chains was something you’d been debating on for the past few weeks, wondering if it would even be a good idea to ask with the high possibility of getting denied immediately and raising suspicion. But because it was Kylo, you knew you at least had to try. You saw the way the chains inhibited him day after day, making him unable to stand properly and getting twisted around his limbs. You also saw how the cuffs rubbed the skin beneath raw, causing him pain every time he moved. The fact that they’ll be removed brings you relief.

You think about him as you get into your car, as you start the engine and follow the roads home. You find yourself doing that more and more frequently, ever since you’ve gotten to know him. You refuse to admit to yourself that honestly, he’s all you’ve been able to think about. Even when you’re at home on days off, you wonder about how or what Kylo’s doing. You also have an incessant, irrational fear in the back of your mind that worries about anyone else working on him or bothering him when you’re away. You always brush off those particular thoughts with the reminder that you’re still the only faculty member with clearance.

You’ve been pleased to learn that Kylo is a surprisingly agreeable individual. He’s rough around the edges, he’ll still snap or snarl or threaten you on occasion, but you were able to dig deep enough to find that softer center. He answers your questions with a relative willingness and he seems as fascinated by you as you are of him. He watches you with such intrigue, eyes always roaming over your figure and his body leaning forward to try and see what you’re doing.

You feel like you know a lot of what there is to know about Kylo. You can’t ask him normal ice-breaker questions like “what’s your favorite song?” or “what shows do you like?” because he’s lived in the woods as an animal most of his life; he told you plenty about the different kinds of vegetation and trees he’d come across though. So instead he asks you those questions, listening as you ramble on about things you’ve wanted to get off your chest but haven’t had anyone to do so with. Kylo is the perfect partner for that, with the way he looks so invested in your words and voice. It’s made your cheeks heat up more than a few times.

Every day, you’ve taken another step closer to that glass wall that separates the two of you. It’s like a trust exercise, seeing if Kylo will growl at you again like he did that first day when you got too close. He hasn’t so far, instead just tilting his head in curiosity as he watches you settle in your new spot. Seeing him get closer, become clearer to you, has a voice whispering in the back of your mind about how dangerous he is, telling you to stay back. But then there’s a different voice, a louder voice, that lures you in as it tells you of his beauty and strength, as it tugs on some string that feels like it’s connected to him.

It’s all so strange, and you ponder over it while you eat your dinner, while you shower off the grime of the day, while you get cozy in your bed. Just like all the nights before, you’re still thinking about Kylo even as you fall asleep.

» ☆ «

Nervous energy buzzes beneath your skin when you walk in to work the next morning. If Hux is true to his word, Kylo should be off the chains. You wonder about it as you walk down the familiar halls, as you go down the elevator. There’s a sheen of sweat that coats your palms, so reminiscent of the first time you did all this. You’ve always hated the way anxiety eats at you any time something new happens, even if you’re the reason behind it.

You follow the path you’ve gone down every day for the past two, now almost three, months. You use your badge to open that last door. Your breath gets stuck in your chest as you step into the room.

Feet ahead, behind that glass wall, Kylo is standing. He’s finally standing, his big form stretched to its full height. Even from where you’ve paused at the door, you can see how tall he is. You’re not ashamed of your own height, being just above the usual average, but it feels like nothing compared to him. Just his broad chest moves as he breathes, the rest of him motionless while he stares down at the chains that now lay useless on the floor, like he was only just freed before you got there. You can see the marks that they left on him, the imprints those heavy shackles rubbed into raw skin. It makes you wince.

Kylo finally notices you, head turning to where you still stand frozen in your awe. When your eyes meet, it feels like your world gets flipped on its axis, like everything just shifted in a different direction. There’s an unnamed emotion that wells in your chest and you can see it reflected in his brown irises. There’s something that’s tied you together, something so inexplicable and strong you think if you reach out you can touch it. It makes you feel completed when you’re both in the same room, and it makes you feel like you’re missing a second half of yourself when you aren’t. It’s driven you crazy for the last few months because you’ve never been able to figure it out, never been able to get your hands around it; it’s tortured you day and night and you hated it. But now you feel it so strongly and deeply in your bones that it makes you stumble forward a step, realization hitting you like a truck.

Kylo sees it, he knows. “Come here.” He says, voice deep and rich with command.

You obey, not even giving yourself a choice in the matter as you follow that strong pull that brings you towards him. That rational part of you that would normally shout at you to stay back is silent now as you step closer than you ever have before. You’re slow and cautious as you make your way to that pane of glass, and so is he—until there’s less than a foot of space separating the two of you.

He’s huge. He towers over you, making you crane your neck to be able to look at his face. Every part of his body is so much bigger than yours it’s a little jarring—and insulting. You can finally see him up close, you can finally see all those little freckles and moles dotting his skin like constellations, all the different and pretty shades of brown that swim in his eyes. It’s strange, what you feel in that moment. It’d be more terrifying than anything if you didn’t know that he’s experiencing the same thing, that you’re not alone; you can sense it like it’s your own. The puzzle pieces that are your lives snap together, the knot of the string that ties you to one another is pulled tight and secure. It makes you feel lightheaded, none of it truly making any sense.

Kylo puts his clawed hand against the glass, looking at you with a hint of desperation. You match him, your own hand seeming small in comparison. “You feel it, don’t you? Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.” He whispers to you, shivers running down your spine. He rests his forehead on the divider, shutting his eyes briefly. “Help me. Please.”

Your body quivers, bottom lip trembling from your nerves. It’s all so much. When you look at him, all of him—with the fluffy ears on his head and the slowly wagging tail protruding from his spine, you realize there’s something else inside of you. Something even deeper than a bond that stretches across the different planes of existence. It feels like a second self, like there’s an entirely different version of yourself you’ve never met before because it got buried so far down within you. It’s waking up now, akin to an animal coming out of its hibernation. It feels feral and raw and violent, it feels like him; a kindred spirit from a wilderness you don’t understand. But he does.

“I can help you. I can show you.” Kylo promises, and everything in you wants to believe him. “You have to get me out.”

Your breaths have become short, you heart beating a little faster between your ribs. You know how you look when you meet his gaze again; your unsure, frightened eyes roving back and forth across his face, your brows creased, a downward tug on your lips. “I.. I don’t… I can’t-“ Your words don’t make any sense, you can’t push them out in the right order. You can’t think straight, every thought flying around your brain at a mile a minute so you can’t grab any of them. The sweat on your palm leaves an impression on the glass. You take a step back and it tears you apart, every instinct in you telling to retract the action and go back to him but… but it doesn’t make any sense.

This shouldn’t be real, this shouldn’t be happening. God, this was all just some stupid research assignment. Frustrated tears spring into your eyes, which only serves to upset you more. This isn’t something worth crying over, you don’t cry like this. But it feels like everything you’ve known, the familiarity of your life before this, has been uprooted and ruined. Through your blurred vision you can see how Kylo reacts, the way his ears lower against his hair in remorse, tail tucking close to his legs. He wants nothing more than to comfort you, and you can’t bear the thought.

How else are you supposed to react when it feels like your mind is split between two different people?

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until the door is shutting behind you and you’re hurrying down those sterile hallways, wiping furiously at your eyes.

» ☆ «

You’d gone home early. You’d told the superior on duty that you didn’t feel well, and they’d sent you off with a wave of their hand.

You’d spent the rest of your time walking through your home like a ghost, both there but also not. Your other half was still at the facility, still in that room, staring through that glass panel. You could feel it, incessant and inescapable, even as you tried to block it out by burying yourself beneath a pound of blankets. You knew you’d come to terms with it in a short while, the logical part of your brain always able to come out on top. You just needed to wallow for a little bit, get used to the life-changing revelations and constant stimulation of your mind being stuck in two different places.

You ran over what you experienced again and again in your head, trying to figure out what it was, what it could mean. You’ve never heard of a phenomenon like it before, never seen it documented in research papers. What do you call it when you feel so fundamentally complete when you’re with somebody, like the universe created the two of you specifically for each other? It sounds silly and like a cheesy trope you’d see in a romance novel—definitely not something meant to be in your own life.

It had you researching for the remainder of the night, and it’s what led you to see the message waiting for you in your inbox from Hux.

I want to see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning. There’s a discussion I need to have with you about your project.

- Armitage Hux

That added on to your list of things robbing you of sleep, but you still managed to get out of bed and get dressed with shaking hands the next morning. That’s how you find yourself outside of Hux’s office door. You hesitate before knocking twice.

“Come in.” His voice drawls from the other side. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you open the door into the familiar office. Hux says your name as a greeting. “I’m glad to see you got my email. Have a seat, please.”

You follow his instructions, sinking into the plush chair across from his desk and folding your hands tightly in your lap. “I.. don’t know what this is about, sir, but I can assure you everything is going smoothly.”

Hux hums in thought as he shuffles a stack of papers to the side. “Perhaps that’s the problem.” He mutters. Cold eyes meet yours, so jarringly different from the warmth in Kylo’s. “I’ve had something brought to my attention, doctor. One of the nutritionists on this project mentioned something interesting to me, they said that this… creature is able to speak… they even saw you communicating with it. But it’s curious, because I don’t recall reading anything about that in your own reports.”

Your blood runs cold, body stiffening as fear licks through you. “Sir, I- I didn’t-“ You stumble over words that feel too heavy in your mouth. You can’t think of a way you could cover your ass because saying your true reasoning of wanting to protect Kylo definitely wouldn’t do you any favors. You inwardly curse your track record of being horrible under pressure.

That tells him everything he needs to know and your wide eyes track him as he moves to stand. He nods along to his own thoughts. “Withholding information is a terminable offense, doctor, especially to this degree. You were given this assignment with full trust from the Agency that you would present all information in an honest manner, you signed the forms.” He says, clearly enjoying the way your face falls. “It’s been decided that you’ll be let go from First Order Agencies, effective immediately. Your badges will be disabled, and we expect your office to be cleared of anything important by ten AM. You’ll be notified of further procedure from there.”

You find your body jumping out of your chair, hands slamming down on the dark wood of Hux’s desk. He looks you over with an upturned lip and distaste at your actions, but you can’t find that you care in the moment. You don’t even really care that you just lost your job when there’s something else occupying every square inch of your mind. “What are you going to do with Kylo?” You demand.

“Oh, so it has a name too. How cute.” Hux taunts. “Your project will be transferred to another facility first thing tomorrow morning. You can’t provide any further insight on that creature, even if we ignore your misconducts. New tests will be conducted, they’ll make sure to get everything they can out of it. You’ve dug deep enough, I’m sure you know exactly what happens to werewolves.”

That word sends a jolt through you. So he knew. He knew about the gruesome history of what Kylo is, of what runs in his blood. Hux knew that Kylo is no different than himself or you, he knew that and still treated him no better than an animal. It’s like everything you worked for, every document you submitted, is thrown back in your face—it was all meaningless. It also makes you afraid, knowing how little they hesitate to sentence an innocent human to death in the name of a scientific study.

Hux glances at the clock on the wall. “Now you better hurry along, doctor, you only have an hour left to clean out your office.”

You can’t do much else other than obey. You know the decision is final, you know he won’t hesitate to call security on you. Air blows through your nostrils as some way to redirect your anger, wishing you could punch the redhead. You settle with something else instead, something you’ve been wanting to tell him for years. “Go fuck yourself.”

The smile Hux gives you as you leave his office is nothing short of cruel.

» ☆ «

You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.

You don’t know how you got here—sneaking back into your former workplace at 1:14 AM. It’s like some otherworldly force was compelling you, and you had no choice but to listen to it.

Your hands are shaking violently when you use them to open the front doors. Your badge may have been deactivated, but you had other ways to get into the building. There was a trick an old coworker showed you when you both were locked out of the facility because you both forgot your badges that day; she said the trick was easier than trying to call and waiting for someone to verify you and let you in. There’s a way you can mess up the sensors on the scanners so it believes there’s a valid badge ID, and that’s what you do to slip inside. You’re thanking the gods that it actually worked, and you’re thanking that coworker who’d gotten fired a week later.

The main halls are void of life and dimly lit, with only the occasional fluorescent overhead light still on. Your hurried footsteps sound far too loud in the silence, your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You make it to the elevator without issue and you spend the entire ride clenching and unclenching your hands at your side, blowing out deep breaths with every interval. This is right. This is the right thing to do. It just might get you arrested or killed but that’s… you choose not to think about it.

The elevator reaches its destination with a ding, the doors sliding open into white hallways that have never been so intimidating before. Your body trembles, your mind is screaming at you, but you know this is what needs to be done. Every step you take feels like another step in the right direction, like it eases the weight off your shoulders. You can feel your nerves steeling themselves the further you go, as if someone else entirely—someone far more confident—is taking control of you. Instead of terrified, you just feel angry. Angry at Hux for doing this to you and to Kylo, angry at the Agency, at everyone who forced werewolves to basically go extinct. It’s all fucked up and you wish you could do more, but for now you can settle with saving at least one.

You reach that final door and you use your trick to break the sensors, successfully unlocking it. The door swings open harshly and as you step inside the observation room, you’re met with an unfamiliar sight. There’s two guards standing right against the glass panel; they’re clad in black padded armor, helmets sitting on top of their heads, guns at their hips. Hell, maybe Hux suspected you would try something and that’s what they’re here for. He wasn’t wrong, you’ll give him that.

The guards snap to attention when you enter. You can see Kylo behind them, ears perked in interest and staring directly at you. You feel something travel across that invisible thread between you, and it feels so right. It gives you the confidence you need. “Excuse me, you’re not authorized to be in here.” One of the guards says roughly, moving to take a step closer to you. “You need to leave now or I’ll have to-“

You’re lunging before you can even fully comprehend what you’re doing. Your limbs don’t feel like your own, it’s like you’re watching from outside of your own body, kicked from the pilots chair. There’s a strength you don’t recognize that you use to grab on to the guard, shoving him back and overpowering him with an ease that shouldn’t be allowed for someone like you. You don’t even know how to describe it, you just feel… feral, angry and vicious. If you could see yourself you’d see your pupils thinned to slits like an animal. The guard chokes when you grip his neck, swinging him and slamming his head repeatedly into the glass pane. He slumps to the ground not a second later.

The element of surprise had greatly assisted you, but now that it’s gone, you’re left vulnerable. That strength that had taken over you has fizzled out, slinking away into the dark recesses of yourself for you to have to try and find again. But you can’t, because the other guard is on you now. He’s bigger than the first, taller and stockier, muscle cording through his arms. You feel those muscles when he uses them to connect a fist with your face and pin you against the wall, his forearm firm on your neck. Fuck.

He snarls at you, pressing in harder. You try to claw at his arm, you try to kick your legs, but it doesn’t make him move an inch. He’s like a brick wall and you have no way of breaking it. You can feel your chest constrict as you’re robbed of air, your lungs struggling to draw breath while your ears begin to ring. You punch and punch and punch again—nothing works. Your vision swims. You feel the dull throb in your knuckles from the reinforced padded armor that makes the guard immune to your adrenaline-fueled attacks. Your eyes lock onto that pistol he has on his belt, it’s your best bet if you could just reach around him and grab it. Your head feels like it’s about to pop, you feel blood begin to dribble from your nose and you’re able to taste it as it drips across your lips. The gun, the gun, the gun- There’s a steady thudding noise, you don’t know where it’s coming from. It might be coming from inside your own head, you don’t know. You can barely think, your brain practically shutting itself down. Your fingers just barely graze the handle but it’s not enough, shit, it’s not enough. Your eyes roll and your body goes limp.

Next thing you know, there’s a deep voice calling your name and a warm hand on your cheek. You take a gasping breath, sputtering around the pain in your throat as your eyes clear and the ringing in your ears finally stops. You see Kylo above you, massive body hunched so he can meet your gaze, worry etching his features. That’s when you notice that there’s blood on his hands, the lights of the facility are flashing red, the alarm is blaring, and the guard who had you pinned is laying decapitated to your left. Looking behind Kylo, you’re startled to see that the glass wall is in pieces. He fucking shattered it—that’s what that thudding sound was. Him hitting the glass again and again in time with your own punches to the guard.

You give yourself only a second to take everything in. Kylo’s actually in front of you. He’s really here, and he’s touching you. It sends a shiver down your spine, sparks tingling beneath your skin. There’s an excited buzzing in the back of your mind, but you don’t have time to linger on those feelings, on him. The alarms are going off and you know it’s only a matter of time before there’s more people down here to kill you both. Even though it feels wrong, you push Kylo off of you so that you can stand. You stumble as your head spins, still trying to recover from getting choked of all your oxygen, and you have to wave Kylo off again as he tries to help you.

You attempt to ignore the blood and gore splattered across the white floors as you step carefully around it to pluck the pistol off the guard. Nausea rolls in your stomach when you accidentally glance at his torn neck, knowing it’s Kylo’s claws that did the damage. You take one of the spare bullet canisters, tucking that and the gun into your belt. Kylo looks tense, muscles bunched beneath his skin and his tail puffed up a size larger than usual. His ears keep swiveling forwards and back, moving to the sounds of the alarm screaming overhead—his ears are probably far more sensitive than your own. You know that it’s blaring through the entire facility, as are the flashing red lights. Everybody will know that there was a security breach.

“Follow me. We can get out through this level.” You practically yell over the alarm. He nods, eager to follow your lead and get out of this prison.

You briefly check your surroundings when you open the door. All clear. You both dart out and you don’t have to worry about Kylo keeping up, he’s right at your heels. He’d run right by you if he didn’t need you to show him the way. You hurry down the halls, careful not to slip as you round sharp corners and burst through doors. You’re scared, yes, but you feel alive. Energy courses through your body like it would a live wire, spurring you forward with Kylo now with you at last. It feels freeing and like everything is finally coming together, even as you’re effectively leaving your entire old life behind.

You come upon a final set of heavy-duty double doors that lead into a tunnel for transports to drive through. It’s what they used to get Kylo in here in the first place. You have to use the strength of your shoulder and a little extra push from Kylo to be able to shove the door open. The tunnel that you run into is dark, becoming nearly pitch black when the lights periodically flicker out with the alarms. You squint against the red lighting, trying to see what’s ahead.

There’s angry shouts, there’s the sound of multiple sets of footsteps, and you know that there’s guards waiting for you. The number of them is nothing to scoff at, many of them being deployed after the alarm started going off. They congregate at the exits so that nothing gets out, or so that they can kill whatever tries. It won’t be easy—or so you think.

Before you have a chance to draw your new gun, Kylo rushes ahead of you faster than you can blink. He’s finally out of his cage, he’s finally free, and he’s relishing in it. He wants to make sure these people know he will never go back. He moves so quick that the guards don’t even get the opportunity to fire off bullets and you merely watch the way his muscles move, his hands slashing with ferocity and a violent grace. The lights flash and when they come back on, there’s a body on the floor.

Flash. Another. Flash. Two more.

The pattern continues until Kylo is the only one left standing. His body heaves, the blood shines on him. He looks terrifying like that, massive form doused in red and shadow, towering over all these dead bodies that he’s ripped through with his own teeth and claws, eyes wild. You run right to him, a sense of awe filling you. He’s definitely not something to be messed with, and you love it. You realize how big of a fool Hux was for thinking he could contain Kylo. His hand is slick with blood when you take it, but it only makes you tighten your grip.

You keep running, pushing past the stench of iron that assaults your senses. The tunnel slopes up and up and up and you follow the path, the alarm steadily getting quieter the further you get. The end of the tunnel gets closer and closer, until you stop at the garage doors. You pause there, puffing breath in and out of your mouth, your body throbbing with the adrenaline. You spare a glance at Kylo, your beautiful monster covered in the blood his captors, and you can feel that this is right where you’re supposed to be. You hit the hatch release button.

The garage door groans as it scrapes on metallic hinges, slowly opening until there’s a wide enough gap for the both of you to slip under it. Fresh, cold night air hits you in the face and you gladly inhale it, washing the smell of blood out of your system. You look to Kylo again, as if making sure he’s still there, and the expression on his face is something you’ll remember for a long time. His eyes are wide, face frozen in what could only be described as shock. You have to remind yourself that he’s been stuck down in the depths of a government facility for the past nearly three months with only white walls to keep him company. You can’t even begin to imagine what he’s feeling.

You have to interrupt though, knowing every second right now is vital. “Come on, my car is just around the corner.”

You begin to walk, but he doesn’t follow. He’s staring into the woods that surround the building, the tip of his tail twitching as he takes a small step forward. He wants nothing more than to go in there, to return to his wolf form and run and run and run. It’s odd that you can feel it too, that primal longing calling you to the wilderness, like there’s something just like him inside of you banging against its cage to get out. You shove it down, you force it back because you really cannot deal with that at the moment. You know you’d just get caught again if you go into those woods. “Kylo,” you hiss and grab his arm, “we need to go.”

Your touch snaps him out of his trance, bringing him back to you. He follows you now around the outer edges of the facility, ever so faintly being able to hear the alarm going off inside. You make it to the parking lot and your less-than-stellar Nissan Sentra, the thing a bit old but it’s always been reliable. You rip open the passenger side door, motioning for Kylo to get in. He hesitates, clearly unnerved by the vehicle, so you resort to shoving him in. He hunches in the front seat, obviously not accustomed to the small space that he doesn’t really fit inside of. You run to the driver’s side, throwing yourself into your seat and shoving the keys in the ignition.

As your car roars to life and you whip out of the parking lot, the facility quickly getting smaller behind you and Kylo sitting next to you, you make the decision that you’re never going to look back.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Tags (comment if you’d like to be tagged next time!); @coldheartedmar @hazydespair @bullet-clubs-bitch @paristheonewhoreads

⇦ Part 2

[mackjlee9]

okay so i got another idea with leon 🥴 totally up to you if you're interedted in writing it

i was thinking of something like reader being Leon's bisexual awakening since he was recruted by the government but he has never liked another man before so he literally was kinda clueless until Claire was like "sir the demons you're fighting is bisexuality" and everything inside Leon clicked cuz for YEARS man has been wondering "mhm why do i get this horrendous feeling when some atractive dude is talking to him and why I kinda wanna kiss him?" Until after the infinite darkness shit happens and reader finally asks Leon out and they finally smooch lmao. (I kinda see claire being the one setting them together bc seeing how oblivious both are is annoying.)

This ended up... A little different 😅

Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Fluff]

All the timelines in this one shot; after re2, before re4 (+mention of the mission), re:degeneration & re:infinite darkness.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil

Well, that's strange.

Leon just ignored the weird sensation he felt when his eyes landed on (M/n). This was the first time he had seen the man in person after being recruited to work for the U.S Government, however, he had heard a lot about him and he already looked up to him and admired him, of course, he never said that, especially after seeing how some reacted to being called "hero" and such, so he kept his admiration for himself.

(M/n) was known around for working close to the President, for getting his job done quickly and efficiently, and for deciding to stay alone everywhere he went.

With the few people Leon had talked to, that had known (M/n) for longer, they had told him how the (h/c) haired male had remained working without a partner for years, after his entire unit was wiped out when he had barely gotten started as an agent.

For years, Leon has spent every day of his life feeling like he was invisible to (M/n) since he was mostly focused on his task at hand or gone on a mission, but there was the occasional glance at him that would make him flinch and smile, or the rare moments where (M/n) would smile at him and Leon just couldn't hold back the bright smile growing on his face, looking down as his face heat up.

He's so handsome... I wanna kiss-

"Kennedy!" He was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard his name being called, one of his the President's agents was beckoning him to follow which he did, the stoic expression returning to his face, "Come on."

Just then Leon realized he was being taken to the President's office and he wondered what the reason could be. Did he do something wrong? Was he gonna get fired? Or... Terminated?

He was having a full panic attack in his brain but remained with an expressionless face as always, taking quiet steps into the office.

"I brought him over, sir," the President, Adam Graham, who was standing looking out the window, turned around to look at Leon. He signaled the couch for him to sit as he walked over too, sitting across from the blond.

"I have a mission for you, Leon."

Turns out, his daughter Ashley had been kidnapped when she was coming home from her college in Massachusetts and he was the agent assigned to rescue her. Leon itched to ask why him specifically when (M/n) was basically the best agent, and Adam smiled as he held back a chuckle, enjoying the confusion on Leon's face.

"Agent (L/n) was the one that recommended me to give you this mission, he has other stuff to do and apologized for not being able to do it himself, but he said he trusts your abilities," he stood up and extended his hand at Leon, "and so do I."

Leon felt his body getting warmer and he stood up, holding the President's hand with a firm grip, determination shining in his blue eyes.

"I will bring her back safe, sir."

//////

It was only a couple of days later when Leon arrives back home, and observes how Ashley runs straight to her father's arms, crying after everything they had gone through in Spain.

Leon sighs at the sight and rolls his right shoulder, feeling the tense muscles twitching slightly after all the stress he was put through... And now he had to do the paperwork, so annoying... I just want a beer, dinner, and fucking sleep for a month.

While he was debating whether he should silently leave or wait, a hand was placed on his shoulder, its warmth seeping through his shirt.

"Well done, Leon," it was (M/n). Leon turned to look at him, lips parting slightly and cheeks heating up at the sight of (M/n)'s gentle smile.

"I, uh... Thank you, sir," he stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure, talking with a serious tone, and he saw how (M/n)'s nose crinkled.

"There's no need to call me sir, just (M/n) is fine," Leon lets out a deep sigh when he hears the sound of (M/n)'s laugh. And again, he couldn't help but think how attractive the man was.

Leon was so confused and felt strange at these thoughts he kept having- that he always sort of had but were much more often and intense than in previous years, and he wondered why it happened, he just assumed it was the fact that he looked up to (M/n) and thought he was an impressive and very skilled agent, that he did, he really did, but there was something else there.

In the following months (M/n) and he had gotten quite close, and had been assigned partner on many missions.

And now, standing outside the airport and out of hearing range, observing with a confused frown how the woman he called friend was laughing at him.

"Can you not laugh at me, Claire? I'm being serious," the red-haired woman wiped the tears gathering in her eyes and stared into Leon's eyes, releasing muffled chuckles before she could articulate her sentence, "Claire."

Leon was about to leave as he felt like one of the few persons he could trust was making fun of him, but she held his arm as he apologized.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just..." Her smile widened, a painful glint shining in her eyes, "That thing you're feeling is called... Attraction, Leon, you feel attracted to (M/n), even if you're both guys," Leon's frown deepened, crossing his arms over his chest, more confused than before.

"But I'm not gay," Claire looked at him as if he was dumb, which well... He kind of was, but anyway-!

"I'm not saying you're gay, Leon," she placed her hand on his shoulder, "Do you feel attraction toward women?" The blond nodded, fully convinced of this fact and Claire chuckled again, "Do you feel attraction toward men?"

Now it took Leon a while longer to answer, blinking repeatedly every few seconds, searching in his memories if he had ever felt attracted toward a man, other than (M/n), and well... Yeah, he kind of did.

"I think so..." He mumbled, and Claire made eye contact with him.

"That's called bisexuality, Leon, and there's nothing wrong with that," while Claire turned around and started walking away, she glanced over her shoulder and winked at Leon, "Go ask him out, I'm sure he won't reject you anyway."

//////

The only wrong thing was realizing and coming to terms with that for Leon. Even more so because he has found himself staring for longer periods of time at (M/n)'s eyes, lips, neck, chest... His whole body was making him react like a horny teenager and well, he couldn't say he hated it, but he didn't want it to happen as often as it did, especially at work.

Leon just had to live with the knowledge of being bisexual... Which was proving to be harder than he had initially assumed. Feeling internally conflicted whenever he saw (M/n) working out and covered in sweat, or when they both walked into the bathroom to take a shower. Poor Leon, he was down bad and... Kind of horny too.

But now, after being done with a mission in Pittsburgh involving bioterrorism, they were both getting in the helicopter that had come to pick them up after being called on an important reunion with the President, wanting them to arrive as soon as possible.

The ride was pretty much silent, but there was a moment when his mind had started wandering around, the gruesome images they had seen back there flashing in his mind, making him sick to his stomach, and he knew Leon was thinking and feeling the same way with how quiet he was.

Looking at him, (M/n) saw Leon's hand laying still on his lap and he reached over to hold it, effectively catching him off-guard. Leon looked down at their hands before looking up at (M/n), who showed him a reassuring smile while squeezing his hand, telling him a silent 'I'm here'. Leon felt glad at the gesture and wordless reassurance, smiling back at (M/n) and squeezing his hand too.

He could feel how his heartbeat sped up, his stomach getting all tingly, and his face heating up with a blush. (M/n) saw Leon's whole body relax as he took a deep breath, turning to stare out the window again.

The pilot wanted to say something but soon realized he was gonna ruin some sort of moment so he remained quiet, only talking when he was approaching the heliport and required confirmation for landing.

//////

(M/n) almost didn't want to stay locked there until they came back, but the President had asked him to and he couldn't refuse an order from the man, so he did as told.

"Careful out there, Lee," Leon nodded and started running after Jason and Shen May, something wasn't right, but he didn't have the time to think about it, he had to enter the bunker and protect the President- everyone present if needed.

During the whole duration of this mission, (M/n) only craved one thing, being with Leon, and now, as they flew in the President's private jet to Penamstan he couldn't stop thinking about seeing and being with him. Leon hasn't communicated with him yet and even though he tried not to, he was worried, definitely worried about him despite knowing his abilities.

(M/n) followed the President and stood in the crowd, deciding on playing the part of a security guard. He observed Patrick stop Adam before he reached the podium and he told him something, before he resumed his way and stood there, speaking into the microphones. He was not too sure of what Adam had said, and couldn't pay much attention when, right as the President finished his speech, his phone rang in his pocket, taking it out and reading the message that showed on the screen.

"You wanna grab some dinner and a few beers back home?" (M/n) didn't find it in himself to feel mad at Leon when he was being this adorable without realizing it.

"Sure, but I expect an explanation, Kennedy," Leon saw the message pop up and he smiled at it, chuckling to himself and blushing as he walked away and into the elevator, completely oblivious to Claire's sweet smile.

Contacting Patrick briefly, Leon made his way toward them, nodding to the curly-haired male as a greeting, smiling and waving at (M/n) when he saw him walking toward them.

Standing there while they waited, Leon proceeded to explain to them what had happened, besides the brief explanation he had given to Patrick. Hearing everything made (M/n) really mad at himself for not excusing himself before running after Leon to help, he knew he wasn't a damsel in distress but... The thought that something could've happened to Leon and he wouldn't have known...

It was painful. And he realized that... He couldn't keep holding back his feelings for him anymore.

The three of them watched how the President left, and now they had to sort stuff out there, go to the U.S embassy and such, but now, with Patrick saying a quick bye, (M/n) and Leon have been left alone, staring at the sunset.

It was beautiful truly, but (M/n) would rather miss it just to stare at something beyond beautiful, something angelic and close to perfection.

His eyes were only looking at Leon, observing how pretty his blue eyes looked reflecting the warm colors of the sun, and he finally found it in himself to talk.

"A hero, eh?" Leon turned to look at him and (M/n) swears he saw him blushing before he glanced away with a chuckle.

"Is everyone gonna call me a hero now then?" (M/n) only smiled in response, and soon the silence continued, but neither of them minded, silences were always comfortable when they were together.

But there was still this nag in the back of (M/n)'s mind, thinking how everything could've gone to shit, and he needed Leon.

"Leon..." He heard (M/n) whispering his name and he turned to look at him, frowning when he realized the conflict obvious on his face, "Just... Hit me if you don't like it, okay?"

Before Leon had time to process his question, he saw (M/n) getting closer and closer, finally pressing their lips together. Leon was left wide-eyed, but a moan left his mouth at the feeling of (M/n)'s lips on his, lifting his arms and wrapping them around the (h/c) haired's neck, kissing him harder and a little bit rougher.

"I could never hit you," was the first thing Leon said when he pulled back, laughing a bit, "And you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he mumbled against (M/n)'s lips before kissing him again, their lips moving together in a slow pace, wide smiles plastered on their faces.

(M/n)'s hands placed themselves on Leon's hips, and pulled back again, pressing their forehead together.

"Exactly... How long, hm?" Leon chuckled feeling rather shy at the question, but rather more at the answer.

"About a year ago, when... I realized you were my bisexual awakening," (M/n) bit his lip and held in his chuckles.

"Well," he pulled Leon closer to his body, opening his eyes and leaning closer to Leon's ear, "I'll hope I can awaken more things in you, darling."

[slitheringghost]

Voldemort and Manipulation of Power Structures

I wanted to explore one of the most fascinating parts of Voldemort's character, which is his immense consciousness of the power hierarchy and structures of magical society and his ability to manipulate them, as well as his consciousness of his own place in those power structures, and how he often plays on those weaknesses.

There are many ways in which he demonstrates this - i.e. he tells Quirrell “There is no good and evil, there is only power" and seems to follow that regarding his own beliefs; he sees himself in followers similarly disenfranchised as him (Harry, Snape, Ginny, Bellatrix, etc.), and we see him use this with them as a combination of genuine identification and manipulation; and we especially see this hyperawareness of the pureblood power structures that killed Merope in the locket protections (see my meta Slytherin Locket Cave: The Life and Death of Merope Gaunt and this addendum) and how that ties into his consciousness of the legal system and who is vulnerable and disposable to it.

In this meta I’ll explore some more of those instances.

1. Chamber of Secrets

His interactions regarding the Chamber attacks are particularly telling:

“It was my word against Hagrid’s, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student.. on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls

Well, how it looks... is that Armando Dippet, until Tom Riddle specifically clarified to him otherwise, was assuming Tom was Muggleborn, while there was a monster petrifying and hospitalizing Muggleborns for months and ended up killing one, and then told him he'd be safer at his orphanage. This is also something Tom plays on to Harry:

“My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy... the death of that poor little girl.... You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the — er — source of all this unpleasantness...." “Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.” [...] “I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up.” [...] “Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who’d opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again.”

Tom correctly points out Dippet’s embarrassment about the attacks and attempt to cover them up. Dumbledore says that “Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty”, yet that didn’t stop Dippet from initially seeing Tom’s life as disposable as other Muggleborns, and it’s clear Tom realized this fact.

2. Half-Blood Prince

There’s Tom joking about being the “half blood heir of Slytherin” with his friends, enjoying the irony of playing on his background:

“I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir,” he said when the laughter had died away. “I don’t have the right kind of background, for one thing.” A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader’s famous ancestor.

And then the way he flirts with and manipulates Hepzibah Smith is particularly interesting to me, especially combined with his framing of Hokey and using Kreacher for the locket:

“Hurry up, Hokey!” said Hepzibah imperiously. “He said he’d come at four, it’s only a couple of minutes to and he’s never been late yet!” “Now then,” said Hepzibah happily, “where’s Hokey? Oh yes, there you are — take that away now, Hokey.” The elf obediently took the boxed cup, and Hepzibah turned her attention to the much flatter box in her lap.

“Now, now, not so fast, or I’ll think you’re only here for my trinkets!” pouted Hepzibah. “I am ordered here because of them,” said Voldemort quietly. “I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire —”

Just like he recognizes the parallel between Merope’s treatment and a house elf/slavery, you can tell he’s noticing the same parallel with himself - and he’s playing into it.

Of course, plenty of his politeness with Hepzibah is necessity, but in the above quote he’s milking his “weakness” and playing the obedient servant - because he knows that power dynamic between them is what Hepzibah Smith is attracted to (and that she enjoys fussing over him as the “poor assistant” - i.e. Hepzibah feeding him with the cakes and telling him he’s overworked, etc.).

Then there’s his framing of his uncle - while the majority of the specifics of Morfin’s confession is revenge for his mother, you can tell Tom’s enjoying the irony of framing Morfin and getting him sent to Azkaban for killing Muggles as a fuck you to his pureblood relatives in general:

“And so what? Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was coming to him — what about it, then?” “Morfin has broken Wizarding law,” said Ogden sternly. “Morfin has broken Wizarding law.’” Gaunt imitated Ogden’s voice, making it pompous and singsong. Morfin cackled again. “He taught a filthy Muggle a lesson, that’s illegal now, is it?” [...] “Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?” “I’m Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad,” said Ogden. “And you think we’re scum, do you?” screamed Gaunt, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. “Scum who’ll come running when the Ministry tells ’em to? Do you know who you’re talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?”

“The Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard’s murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people. “So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to “kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight.

Of course this doesn't stop him being a total hypocrite and looking down on Muggles himself, just like his awareness of house-elf oppression and ability to use it doesn’t stop him from completely underestimating Kreacher.

Because one of the biggest ways Voldemort’s arrogance manifests is his belief in his ability to manipulate these power structures, how he sees himself as an outsider in magical society who is always chessmaster-ing it, his certainty that everyone else but him are simply too imprisoned by those oppressive structures to resist against and fight back against them - that he’s the only one that can truly rise above them.

[tocomplainfriend]

Some random complaining!

Hazbin Hotel totally got cut off- I mean Viv probably wanted at least 3-4 season or something, but they just gave her 2. Cause the Angels already starting the genocide is so early. Which what does that mean for season 2 if this is just season 1?

I really thought it all would've started after the events of the pilot. So we just got Alastor, Nifty, and Husk. And then getting Sir pentious in the hotel, and going through some time before the extermination.

I think we are going to get normal "get to know the characters" episodes, but then scaling to the extermination date. (which I thought it was held by the end of the year). No clue of what's after that... really.

The "we will show a heaven a fight" shows me that the idea of redemption of sinners is left behind really fast. Which I found interesting, so that sucks.

Oh, look is her!

Also, I really thought they would do a small thing about the swearing. Look... I swear a shit ton! But Viv can not write all her characters like that. She said, "I write the characters how I talk"- that is not good because all characters talk the same and all force of swearing in the series disappears. The fact that Alastor doesn't swear is good, cause it gives him more character. I really hope that Charlie doesn't swear half as much, it would fit her character more. The daughter of Lucifer, that's the one out because she is nicer. But has casual to little swearing is outstanding. (It would be more special if multiple of the sins in HB weren't sweethearts). Husk swearing a lot makes sense old man, alcoholic, gambling addict from the '70s. Hopefully Nifty doesn't, She is from the 1950s when swearing was less frequent, and used specific words too-which I hope the language of the year is they are from-in the same way they are with Alastor. In the idea of Nifty being a maid during her life, you would guess she would swear less than other characters.

Every person talks and swears differently individually. So I hope not all characters over swear.

Look at Nifty! (you can do small jokes like this without swearing or heavy sexual garbage all the time)

These guys here looked a bit weird.

Also, I supposed Vaggie is still from 2014 and El Salvador, right? Like she died went to heaven, became a fallen angel... right? Am I wrong about that? Genuine question!

Also, I wonder what they will do with Sir Pentious? Velvette is not anywhere on the trailer, I think. I'm sure Baxter doesn't exist lmao. I really wonder how they will balance things with personal things for each character-at the same time of the angel's attack.

Are they full front fight the angels? Where are this guy's machines?

Someone wanted a bunch of Broadway voices, and was so ready to throw old VA's out, damn.

Are they going to have time to explore how characters died, what let them be in hell even? Gonna do a post about that and heaven stuff later on!