#Think about it though. why WOULDN’T he want to undo the merge

[crowleycorvid]

I believe in the FSM as Ras's master I BELIEVE!!!

[hopeymchope]

How the Phantom Thieves Became the Bad Guys (OR: A long-ass essay that’s likely to irritate any P5 fans that bother to read it)

PREVIOUSLY: I came to the sad realization that “Joker” — a.k.a. the Persona 5 protagonist, a.k.a. Ren Amamiya — is canonically an asshole.

...so I suppose the logical extension of that is for Joker to become a villain. 

And as it turns out, thanks to the third semester of Persona 5 Royal, he can! They WANT you to. 

I guess you could say the warning signs were always there.

...of course, alternatively, he might not. Because thankfully, the freedom of player choice still gives you some ways out. But sadly, the “True” (i.e., canonical) ending of the game requires Joker to lead the Phantom Thieves into a very dark place indeed. 

Before I delve into why that’s the case, though, I have to give the devs at Atlus credit for creating an ethical scenario that really challenges the player and makes them think. But uh, if you want to feel okay about pursuing the “True Ending,” you definitely shouldn’t think too much. It’s best that you just take the words of the characters at face value and try not to apply real-world morality, okay? Because applying serious thought to the moral debate in the third semester swiftly makes the Phantom Thieves into bigger baddies than some of the palace rulers they’ve previously battled.

Enough of the buildup, however. Let’s back up and dig into the core issue I’m talking about: Takuto Maruki’s quest to make the world a better place. 

The Setup

Maruki is a psychological counselor and cognitive researcher as well as a Social Link/Confidant that’s unique to the “Royal” version of the game. He’s also the central figure behind the new storyline that takes place after the ending of the original Persona 5. Said storyline involves Maruki leveraging his work as a psychologist and his studies of the cognitive world + Yaldabaoth’s merging of Mementos with the real world to rewrite reality, creating a new world where people’s innermost wishes are made real. The result? People who lost loved ones in traumatic ways see them now returned to life. People who experienced horrific injuries have had them undone. Rape victims were never violated in the first place. People who lost their dream jobs are suddenly re-employed by them. And so on. This is Maruki’s way of helping people move past being haunted by their traumas and worst experiences; now they can simply never have had such experiences.

Maruki is a very kind-hearted soul from the moment we first meet him. There’s never any doubt that he’s simply trying to make the world a happier, kinder place. And when he first triggers the change into a new timeline, most of the Phantom Thieves are blissfully unaware that the world has been rewritten around them. No less than three of our teammates are reunited with parents who died recently or years ago, although from their perspective, it’s not a “reunion” — it’s just the way things have always been, because those people were never murdered in the first place. Our lead character, Joker, and his rival/ally/antagonist, Akechi, are initially the only ones who remember the old reality. But Joker is soon triggering the rise of conflicting memories within his allies that make them call their new existence into question, even if just slightly...

(It’s cool how well this all aligns with a major area of current psychiatric research. Medical researchers have been seeking a way to target and delete traumatic memories from PTSD sufferers for well over a decade now, moving ever-closer to success. Traumatic memories can be debilitating to a level that millions of sufferers never can recover from their worst experiences even after living many decades more, frequently driving people to suicide; what if you could stop having to relive them? Granted, this wouldn’t literally undo them as it does in Maruki’s solution, but I think the core concept is similar, and that’s pretty neat. Though I have no idea if it was all intended and the devs actually knew about this... )

Concerns?

When I first entered and swiftly understood Maruki’s “new reality” in the game, I immediately theorized TONS of ways in which this could be a very bad thing. And even as I went through the initial phases of his palace/laboratory and slowly learned more about the situation, I continued to come up with new possibilities for why this could be a problem for the world.

...so what’s amazing is how, though a combination of main story dialogue and optional side dialogue, the game successfully addresses EVERY possible problem and erases ANY doubt regarding Maruki’s solution. I assume they were going for a more nuanced moral debate, but in practice wound up in a situation where Maruki’s solution carries only the slightest ambiguity as to its righteousness.

So! Let’s go ahead and break down EVERY concern I had... and how the game either dismisses them or muddies them up quite a bit.

Concern #1: Maybe this reality is fake, and the resurrection people are just illusions/cognitive beings? ANSWER: No, this is not the case. During their first couple of discussions, when Akechi asserts that this reality is phony, Maruki assures him that it’s every bit as real as the one they remember. Moreover, Akechi himself confirms this in his next phone call with you; he investigates the possibility that Wakaba Isshki is either an illusion or cognitive existence, and he confirms that she is indeed the real Wakaba. In fact, his research confirms that she simply didn’t suffer the incident the vehicular accident that previously ended her life... and history was rewritten from there. Per his testimony, this isn’t a false reality at all — it’s an alternate universe or new timeline with its own distinct history. Think of it like we just jumped to a new “world line” in Steins;Gate or something. 

The dark side implication of this fact is that it means that if someone WERE to revert reality back to its previous state, that’d be effectively the same as killing them yourself. 

Concern #2: Does this mean that people will never undergo loss or pain of any kind? No, negative experiences definitely still exist. Note that Yoshizawa still has endured the loss of a close sister who was killed in a vehicular accident! And the Niijima family is still missing their deceased matriarch. Ann specifically mentions how she was “so sad” when Shiho transferred away to another school. In fact, even Shido is confirmed to still be under arrest for multiple confessed crimes (courtesy of the Phantom Thieves) in this reality! But that last one could be an example of how people who don’t accept this new reality can continue to be trapped in their old struggles. You can see that particular problem in the homeless man in the subway... and even more blatantly in Akechi. He’s very open about his hatred of this new reality and his opinion that he needs his miserable life experiences. He literally defines himself by his trauma, which is... uh, not a good argument. In fact, Akechi is so messed up (and historically has been such a hostile, malevolent force) that his hatred of the new reality feels more like a ringing endorsement than something we should agree with. HOWEVER... it’s worth noting that later on in the “true” story route, Maruki continuously refers to his reality as one where nobody has to suffer. So perhaps the lingering tragedies/problems I’ve mentioned are actually imperfections he intends to iron out? Or it’s possible he’s just simplifying the situation, boiling it down to the essence of his argument even if it’s not strictly the case. UNCLEAR.

Remember: If Akechi thinks something is foolish, it’s probably a very good idea. 

Concern #3: Is everyone just going to live incredibly easy lives, then? Everybody gets whatever they wish for now? First: That’s literally impossible. It is inevitable that people’s wishes will conflict with one another. Second: It’s pretty clear that goals/wishes which logically require effort to be actualized will STILL require that effort. Sae Niijima is still said to be working late nights in her job as the district prosecutor ever after the new reality emerges, and Ryuji is literally doing laps around the school EVERY DAY in order to stay in shape and keep his track skills strong. So NO, it’s not like everything just comes on a silver platter without even trying for it. Third: In all other situations beyond ONE thing on January 1st (the first day of this new reality), it seems like the new world isn’t going to just give out every desire you might think of. See, the narrative waters are muddied by the fact that Yoshizawa wishes to not encounter a crowd at the shrine on New Year’s Day... and then, shockingly, it’s mostly empty. But for the rest of the story, this trick is never again employed. In fact, there are situations in which people would OBVIOUSLY be thinking or desiring something other than what they have, but they still aren’t magically granted the perfect life. Just look back at Concern #2: Are you telling me that it never would’ve occurred to Yoshizawa to NOT have such a tragedy in her past? In fact, just rewind back to my second point under this very concern - are you going to tell me that Sae never once wanted to have a lighter workload? And why the helld did Shiho EVER transfer away from Shujin in this new reality, huh? So the most logical conclusions here are either that A) The new reality was still forming (this was its first day after all), finding its footing and still in flux, but immediate fulfillment of random frivolous wishes won’t apply after this point. OR! B) One-off wishes that are specifically spoken aloud might be granted, but otherwise the focus is on granting the SINGLE deepest wish of each person. 

Concern #4: Wait, what if some real assholes/terrible people make destructive wishes? In the real world, somebody casually thinks “ugh, I want to die” all over the world at every second, and a few people probably think “Jesus, just blow up the planet” every few minutes, but it’s not like we see random citizens keeling over or the world exploding under Takumi’s new reality. But this is a fictional world, so maybe those kind of thoughts/statements don’t exist there. In which case  the fact that Shido is currently still imprisoned for his crimes seems like evidence enough that destructive wishes being granted isn’t going to be a concern. Does anybody really believe that Takumi would hand someone like Kamoshida his greatest (...and probably dark and perverted) wishes? Nah. No fucking way.

Concern #5: If Kamoshida never was at Shujin and never abused/violated anyone, and Madarame was actually an honest and supportive “master” to his apprentice, and Okumura is a caring boss and devoted father... does that mean the Phantom Thieves never existed in this world? Does that erase the special bond our characters built? ANSWER: No, it doesn’t mean that. I already mentioned that Shido is behind bars in this reality just as he is in the preceding one, and this is (as ever) courtesy of the Phantom Thieves. The Phan-Site is still running and putting out polls, and they’re still viewed as heroes to the masses. The Thief squad still possesses the same special connection they always had. 

The Stickiest Wicket: Kasumi and/or Sumire

Ultimately, the BIGGEST concern for many people about Maruki’s actions is what’s happened to Yoshizawa. She no longer even knows her real name (Sumire) or who she was born as. She’s living her life entirely as a deceased person (her sister, Kasumi). She fully believes she is that person, and she acts and thinks and feels just like them.

A lot of people find this creepy or weird, but Maruki originally triggered this change without even knowing he was doing so. Furthermore, it happened because that’s what Sumire wished for. It’s her own desire! 

But once Maruki realized Maruki’s argument is based in the trauma that got her here. Because, you see... Sumire is responsible for her beloved sister’s untimely death. Not in a direct “I literally killed her” sense, but I mean... Sumire picked a fight with Kasumi in the streets and then ran away upset, Kasumi naturally/obviously pursued to try and calm her down, Kasumi screamed out to Sumire to not run into the street because vehicles were coming, Sumire ignored her and ran into the street, Kasumi catches up to Sumiere JUST enough to shove Sumire out of the way of an oncoming truck... and Kasumi pays for that with her life. 

We are made to live out this experience in first-person view, and it’s harrowing. Afterwards, Joker and Maruki make some effort to calm and/or comfort her. Maruki gives her the opportunity to live her true self from then on and help her move forward... or to revert back to  Understandably, Sumire can’t comprehend having to live with this deeply traumatic experience in her mind.

No shame.

I come at this storyline from an unusual perspective because a very similar story happened near where I live when I was growing up. The story of a man who accidentally wound up causing his wife’s death while they were on their honeymoon.. it absolutely shook me to my core when I was a young teen. I won’t get into the messy details because I’d prefer to not pass the horror of a real-life tragedy on to a bunch of people, but suffice it to say that it was absolutely, undeniably an accident. Even so, he was similarly wracked with guilt. The area community watched that man’s psychological state completely collapse. He never recovered, and it was hard to blame him for that.

I can’t imagine how I’d ever recover if I accidentally caused a loved one’s death, either. And hopefully, very few people will ever have to know such horror. If I knew someone in such a situation, of course I’d be there to support them while simultaneously encouraging them to get professional help they can lean on. I’d encourage anyone in such a situation to seek out help and try to support them, naturally. And Joker does do that! But holy shit, when we see flashbacks to the aftermath of the tragedy, Sumire is DEEPLY miserable. She can barely go through the motions If Sumire believes that she is Kasumi, it does more than just help heal her feelings of inferiority —  it also means that she endured a tragedy in which her little sister died because of said sister’s own actions As we’ve established - tragedy still exists. Either sister being gone is a tragedy. And Sumire who died - not because of Kasumi but because of her own fault? Its still tragic (once again, reminder: hardships and tragedy still occur here), but it’s not completely debilitating in the same way.

In light of what I saw happen so close to home, I don’t blame Yoshizawa for choosing this life at all. It’d be preferable to just have both sisters alive and together, but it does not appear that Maruki has control over what people wish for. If he did, then maybe he could restore her sister and help build up her confidence from there... that’d be greatly preferable. But if this is her biggest wish — to simply BE her sister and live life with Kasumi’s confidence — then I’m with MarukI: At least this lets her live her life happily and at peace. 

I get that it’s not the perfect solution. But I’ll take whatever option is available that prevents a situation like the doomed, self-destructive widower I mentioned three paragraphs earlier.

Maruki is Doing the Same Thing the Phantom Thieves Did... But Better

Based on the above, this seems pretty win-win for everyone (although Sumire is certainly a debatable case). Well... it’s a win-win for most everyone except Akechi; he interprets any change to the current timeline as a removal of his free will. (Which obviously isn’t completely true; we watch a whole load of characters making clear decisions and choices during this arc, even before they are ‘awakened’ from this reality and, if they accept Maruki’s reality? Even AFTER that, too. So Akechi is full of shit, ofc.) In fact, Akechi is so dead-set on following the path he already chose that he’s still grimly adamant about doing so after finding out that he’s dead in the original timeline. Akechi insists that only HE can choose what is the truth, which is very much aligned with how he used to frame people for crimes in order to get credit for their arrest :P .... AND also not at all far removed from Maruki’s stance. Except Akechi’s “truth” is self-destructive, and Maruki’s “truth” is a positive for goddamn everybody.

Explained another way: The Phantom Thieves as a whole are doing the same thing as Maruki, just on a smaller scale and without actually addressing the societal problems that create such unfairness. The Phantom Thieves have spent this entire game forcibly changing the hearts and cognition of criminals and awful people, but they’ve never bothered to examine the root of such problems. Maruki is simply taking a single swing at erasing systemic injustice and sudden-onset cruelty in the world. The Phantom Thieves are firefighters; Maruki is an architect. The Phantom Thieves are whacking down whatever moles may pop up, but Maruki? He’s dismantling the whole rigged-ass game.

And y’know, considering how much Joker and the Phantom Thieves talk about carving their own future and free will and stuff in the “True” ending.. they sure do strip a whole lot of people of THEIR free will during the game’s campaign, don’t they? 

But look, I’m sure they don’t care about that. Because somewhere along the line — and it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where —the Phantom Thieves stopped caring about other people. As in: Anybody outside of their own group.

The Phantom Thieves’ Great Big Selfish Dick Move

In the “True” route, once the Phantom Thieves remember their past lives, they struggle for a bit with the idea of whether they’re doing the right thing by opposing Dr. Maruki and the new timeline. He’s only trying to help people, after all. Including all of them.

But Ryuji gives a little speech that gets everybody on-board with changing Maruki’s heart and returning to the former reality.

WOO! FUCK everybody else who is living their lives happily! FUCK all the people who are now LITERALLY ALIVE in the new timeline! Let’s re-murder them, re-traumatize people we know (umm wasn’t Shiho literally raped in the original world? but not in this timeline?................... so WTF are you fucking doing you fucking monsters??????), because ONLY WE CAN DECIDE ON OUR REALITY! And we remember the old, shittier one right now, so let’s .... default to that one I guess! Despite the fact that this is one is already established to be EQUALLY FUCKING REAL.

Shockingly, the rest of the team chooses THIS is the time to finally fucking respect Ryuji. (NOTE: The time to respect Ryuji was, in truth, every single damn day BEFORE this one. He’s an excellent human being. Or... he was. Before this moment.)

BUT NOT EVERYBODY BELIEVES IN IT, YUSUKE! What about all those people who are happy here? And what about the fact that this reality isn’t any less real than your original one? Remember: This is LITERALLY happening. This is a valid AU. There’s no trickery employed. No illusions. This is a new timeline that is VERY real.

So, why?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?!

.........................towards the end of the chapter, there’s an argument made that humanity has to suffer and overcome trials and struggle in order to develop and grow. Of course, we’ve fairly well shot down the idea that there’s zero suffering in this reality (see Concern #2 above) or that there’s no effort required (see Concern #3 above). But even if we hadn’t, there’s a bigger question to face here: Is there any evidence to suggest that people WON’T grow or evolve without struggle and suffering? Can we actually back that up, this idea that we have to “overcome” in order to become better people? 

I submit that we cannot. I further submit that this is the argument of the downtrodden; the argument of the sufferers who wish to justify their own misery to themselves. But in reality? They can’t say for certain that loss and trauma are “good.” 

In fact, let me argue right now that such things are inherently BAD. People who suffer from PTSD are far more likely to have suicidal ideation, and a 2021 study showed that suicide rates are more than four times higher for people suffering from PTSD than without. If we could really erase trauma and PTSD from our world, I think we can safely say it’d make a VERY lasting impact that would be EXTREMELY worth doing.

It seems that the “spirit of rebellion” within the Phantom Thieves extends to “any decision or idea any adult has ever implemented regardless of merit.” They’re teenagers, after all... and not a single one of them is as mature as someone like P3′s Mitsuru, so I accept that their knee-jerk rebellious instincts might be overriding their ability to think logically. 

Or, let’s be more charitable about it. MAJOR DIGRESSION: This could be a situation kind of like writing Star Trek: Insurrection. (I know most of you won’t understand what I’m referencing here. I’m sorry.) That movie presents a sticky ethical debate: Is it OK for a government to forcibly relocate a population of 600 people if their current homeland contains some natural healing mojo that could be used to save *billions* of people across the galaxy? Patrick Stewart once said that he was forced to make Picard very narrow-minded in order to serve the needs of the movie’s story. Because if that same story was presented in the format of multiple TV episodes, there would’ve been time to explore a bunch of alternative solutions that weren’t as binary as “force them out and take all the healing mojo OR leave them be and don’t take any of the healing mojo.” There would obviously be multiple negotiable middle grounds that just aren’t discussed because of time constraints. (To his credit, Picard DOES try to throw up a bunch of alternatives during his confrontation with a superior officer. They’re all shot down with hand-wavey explanations, but at least a few are suggested.)

DIGRESSION OVER. My point? Maybe that’s how it is here, too. Maybe the Phantom Thieves just can’t afford to sit around and discuss this matter in a serious debate because the game is already SUPER long; they need to get the fuck on with it and not just pump you full of non-interactive cutscenes, so Ryuji simplifies everything. ............. It’s just that he does so in a manner that makes the squad look really short-sighted and selfish.

In Conclusion

I took Maruki’s deal. That was MY ending to the game. And it might very well be the best ending available! Although I’d be willing to at least consider the original Non-Royal, didn’t-completely-Maruki’s-Confidant ending as a semi-contender... but DANG, yo. It’s tough to beat the Mega-Happy New Reality Ending. (I subsequently watched the rest of the “True” ending only on YouTube playthroughs, which is where I nabbed these screenshots.)

Taking Maruki’s deal results in basically everybody getting a fulfilling, beautiful life. Although I admit that I have no idea how Akechi is now part of the new reality... because he was never going to accept it, right? And we established repeatedly that those who don’t accept it can’t really reap the benefits, so... why is he now a legitimate “detective prince” whose external behavior from the first few chapters of P5 is now actually who he is inside? How’d THAT ever happen? Not sure about that shit.

Even so, it’s a long and beautiful ending full of gorgeous art of the squad all living their best lives. Morgana is relegated to just carrying “Miss Ann’s” bags while shopping, and he doesn’t even care - he’s just happy to be there. Makoto and Sae get to have dinners with their father again. Haru is more directly involved in the “Big Bang Burger” business, working to keep it ethical and respectful of the neighborhoods where they open as she prepares to carve her own path after high school. Makoto and Haru even get to graduate.

The whole thing wraps up with Sojiro inviting Joker to finish his high school experience in Tokyo. That’s right - he’s asked if he’d like to stay at the cafe and Shujin for his third and final year. Naturally, he’s happy to accept the offer. That means he’ll even be there for an overlap with Futaba’s FIRST year in high school. (Plus he no longer has to return to his small suburban town and his parents who NEVER ONCE CALLED OR MESSAGED DURING THE YEAR, WTF??? ............ or uh, maybe that happened offscreen?) 

It’s really weird how the writers of Persona 5 Royal SO THOROUGHLY argued against any possible downside of Maruki’s new reality. I get that they wanted a complex issue to grapple with, but if they really wanted us to choose to reject the new world and pursue the True Ending, they should’ve given us some kind of good reason, right? Even if it’s just a small reason, there’s got to be an argument that’s better than “I don’t like the idea that the timeline has changed”... which is ultimately all they’ve got. But I listed all the possible concerns above, and... they didn’t leave a single one of them standing. If they’d put just ONE of those potential problems in place, maybe I’d find the matter more debatable. 

Well, probably not Concern #5. That’s not really enough to justify erasing all this societal progress.

In the end, I’m left to ask you this:

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

And I... Chapter Four, a Malevolent Fic

Demands and dessert.

Final fics of Surrogate, season one: 3/4. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

----

John was not okay. “How much longer? Is he okay? What are they doing? Where did they go? What are they talking about?” And he wailed yet again: “Does Arthur still need me?”

Hastur was silent.

It’s been about ten minutes, the All-Mother said again, having answered this volley a dozen times already. With the humans gone, she’d stretched out, her form warping and expanding to something a bit more comfortable. Guises were fine, but she preferred not to wear them. I’m not bringing them back until you two have a little chat of your own.

Hastur was silent.

“I will not talk to him,” John snarled. “After what he did? I’m not saying a fucking word.”

I’m not giving you a choice in the matter, sweetie. She got up, clopping forward on a thousand rolling hooves, and two gentle hands pressed the mug back into Hastur’s hands. Now, Hastur… you’ve disobeyed long enough. I understand what you’re going through. I really, really do. She cupped her hands around his, so motherly, so tender, even though those hands could simply squeeze and turn his flesh to jelly. But I need you to drink.

He finally looked up as though coming back into this world. “Why?” 

Because when that little girl comes back, she’s going to need you, the Black Goat said. And when you get back to Carcosa—when you go home—you’re going to need to be at your best. But before that? You two need to have a talk. Face to face, no Arthur in the way.  

Hastur looked at the drink. Sure. It didn’t matter. He drank glumly, staring at nothing.

The selenine worked instantly, flooding his torn limbs with power and repairing the new tears in his cloak with the surge of magic.

Hey. Hastur? Listen to me. A tentacle gripped his chin, forcing his mask upward, forcing him to meet her million eyes. I know our last meeting did not go well for you, but I need you to understand: I’m rooting for all four of you. I brokered a deal with Kayne that, frankly, might have traumatized that girl a little bit so I could give the four of you time to put each other all back together. But that’s not going to happen if you and John are at each other's throats. Do you understand me?

“I…” Hastur seemed to be struggling to respond.“I… you… want me to… talk to John?”

“I’m not fucking talking to him!” John snarled. “There’s nothing fucking to talk about!”

You two can start by… Oh, well, he’s probably a bit too fresh of a wound, but how about this: you two should start talking about what happened the first time John was in the Dreamlands. With Arthur.

“Why?” said Hastur again.

“Because you fucking tortured him!” John snapped. “We had to fight for our lives—you fucking destroyed any ounce of self-confidence he had left. All he thinks about are the scars, and what happened in… in the… Faust, and…” He writhed, tentacles lashing, eyes pinpoints of furious golden light. No, not furious. Horrified.

Hastur was silent.

“I had to watch, over and over,” John said with a shudder. “Every fucking time he had to take a bite of Faust.”

“Yes,” said Hastur, softly. “Yes. I was cruel.”

“Cruel? Cruel?” John was shaking. “You fucking tortured both of us. I had to relive his death over, and over, and you know what? I’m not you. I realized how fucking bad it was, and I tried to stop.” That shudder again. “But you just kept coming. You wouldn’t stop. And then you fucking brought his kid into it, you miserable fuck.”

Another long pause. That just seemed to be Hastur’s speed at the moment. “Yes. Yes, I did. I did those things. I cannot undo them, Piece. What do you want me to say?”

“You can start with my fucking name!” John shrieked. “It’s John! John Doe, my name is John, and I don’t care if you don’t like it because even if we merge, I will be reminding you of it, every second of every minute of every hour, and you can’t fucking take that away from me!”

“As you wish.” Which was perhaps not the expected response. “I will not take it away from you.”

John was huffing, chest rising and falling with every breath—every breath that was brand-new, the sensation of air rushing into lungs, past teeth, down his throat. “And stop trying to take Arthur away from me too,” he said, his voice cracking. “I already lost… I lost my body. I lost my autonomy. I lost my… our…” And his voice cracked. Shattered.

“Our son.” It’s rough. It sounded like Hastur had smoked for a thousand years. “Yes. I did that. I will not take Arthur away from you.”

“But you keep trying,” John sobbed—and that golden fire began to spill from beneath his hood, over his hands as he pressed them to his face in a curiously human gesture. “Oh, gods, I don’t want to leave him. He changed me. I’m so fucking grateful that he changed me, and I never want to go back to being anything like you. We lost our son, and I didn’t—I didn’t even remember him, until you prompted me. I can’t lose Arthur too.”

Another pause. Hastur’s breathing is deep, heavy. “I will not take Arthur from you.” Lower still. “You love him. You should tell…” But it just trailed off, like a candle going out. 

“It’s not that simple,” John groaned. “It’s—it’s just not.” But his head rocked back, then, the hood falling away from his—their—face. “But you get it, now. What you did to him. And…” He took a deep breath. “Fuck you, but thank you. When he threw us, you saved him. Saved us.” Another breath. “And you saved her. That… I think that means more than anything else, especially to him. That stupid fucking idiot then went back in to save you.”

“Foolish.” Soft. Condemning.

“Moronic.” Frustrated. Affectionate.

Hastur was barely audible. “Any further demands, Lord John?” There was no tone to it, no inflection.

John squinted at him. “I want Arthur to start getting dessert again,” he said. “When we go home. He’s done all the work. He’s earned it.”

Hastur’s cogs seemed to be slowing back down. “He may have dessert.”

John was quiet for another moment. “You really do love her. Don’t you?”

“I would not have returned from my son’s place of sacrifice, did I not.”

“Arthur was right,” John said softly. “She changed you. Just like Arthur changed me.”

Hastur was silent.

“I’m sorry,” John said, his voice very quiet. “I wish we had known what we knew now, years ago. Maybe things would have been different, then.”

“I did this,” Hastur said. “I crashed this ship. All has foundered. Lost; lost. It is lost.”

John stared at him. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said. “It’s not all lost. Arthur has been telling me for years that things have changed, and he was right. He was right about a lot of things, and never fucking once has he ever said anything bad about you to that girl,” he snarled. “Arthur has been doing a better goddamn job at navigating this than either of us. He’s fucking put himself back together after you broke him, for that girl. He saved you, and—” his voice broke again. “He’s been trying to convince me to… to reunite with you.” He let out a soft sob. “That fool.”

“You put him back together, John. Let us not deceive in the wake of our loss.” And without hesitation: “It would be poorly done, I think. Though I fear his safety could be at issue.” Whatever the hell all THAT meant.

John paused. Stared up at him. Yes, whatever the hell all that meant. “You’re going to have to put in the work,” John said, beginning an entirely different conversation. “But Arthur trusts you. He’s a fucking moron to do so, and there are things I will never fucking forgive you for. But, for Faroe… It doesn’t matter.” He took a breath. “She’s just a kid, Hastur. And you’re her Dad.”

“Yes.” Hastur still looked at nothing, monotone. “She will thrive. And Arthur will have his dessert. And I will try to help you. We should return home. Soon. Is there aught else you wish to say to me?”

Well, this guy was obviously fucked up. “Are… Are you going to be okay?” A beat. “Are we going to be okay?”

“You will. I… don’t know.”

“Are you willing to try?” His voice is firm. “For her.”

“I would not be here otherwise. John…” And then he stopped again.

There was something familiar about this moment. Something eerily like a night six years ago. The stuttering communication, the drifting thoughts. “What?” said John.

“I am glad you have changed.”

John was quiet for a long moment. “I’m glad you’ve changed too. I think.” He takes a deep breath. “Maybe… Maybe we can both fix all this. Together?”

“Fix.” Hastur just said the word, flat. In his head, he heard the moment again, pleading to no one—too late, too late, please, he just needed more time—“Let me fix this. Let me try. My son, I…”

There had been no more time.

“Fix. Repair. Restore.” A pause. “Rebuild. Or… Or maybe just build something, instead of destroying.”

Hastur didn’t answer.

“Hastur.” It’s a growl. “We’re going to. Alright? We’re fucking going to fix this, if I have to drag your big squirmy ass behind Arthur with my hand.”

Hastur managed one, low laugh, a single heh of barely-surviving humor. “John… I would give all the gold in the treasury to see you manage that.”

John’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I’ll call you on that, so I can buy Arthur some clothes that aren’t fucking yellow.”

Hastur paused. “Ah,” he said, as though that statement made him realize something.

“What now?” snapped John.

Aw, boys, Shub-Niggurath sighed. This is just lovely, I really hate to interrupt. Are you ready?

Hastur stood. He did not face her; he stood quiet, his head bowed. “Yes.”

The Great Mother twisted, contorting herself into a form easier on the eyes of mortals, and when she waved her hand, Arthur and Faroe stepped from the trees, faces streaked with tears, hand in hand.

They were perfect together. Hastur saw it when she was three; he saw it now.

He ached.

Her expression broke. “Daddy,” she sobbed, and she ran directly into his arms.

He gathered her up, but hesitantly, hesitant, and shuddered. “I’m so sorry, Faroe. My daughter. I brought all of this upon you. I thought to spare you pain, and I have not. I failed you.”

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice soft and hoarse. “We can talk about it w-when we go home. Can we go home?” She sank into his many arms, pulling his tentacles around her like a blanket.

His sigh was so deep. “Yes, my daughter. Now.” 

One second, honey. They need this.

Arthur stared at John. “She forgave me. She forgave me, John.”

John crept closer to him, inch by agonizing inch, hovering—and he glanced at Shub-Niggurath.

Go ahead, baby.

“But you said—”

I’m keeping everything all wrapped up so you don’t accidentally blow him up. Go ahead.

And John… reached. He reached with his left hand, hesitant and halting, and gently his fingertips brushed against Arthur’s right hand. “Arthur,” he whispered, a shadow wrapped in cloth of gold.

Arthur stepped right into him, fearless, almost as if it was a relief to press his face into John’s heat instead of just being out in the open. He clung.

John’s arms snapped shut around him. He was hugging Arthur, and he would have sobbed if not for the fact his tears would burn his foolish, magnificent human. He buried his face in the crook of Arthur’s neck, felt the flutter of the man’s pulse against his mouth, took a deep breath—gods, he would remember this scent forever.

Arthur made a small sound, and tension melted away from him. He was aware as John wrapped more and more limbs around him, aware he was being closed in, but it didn’t… feel bad.

At all.

“John,” he breathed.

John’s tentacles crept up Arthur’s legs. 

Arthur shivered once.

This was getting scary. Time for a redirect. “Arthur. Shake my hand,” John rumbled.

“What?” Arthur said, a laugh on his breath. “All right, you whacko.” He twisted just enough to manage it.

John gave it a vigorous shake. “I—I missed you. I missed you! My friend!”

Arthur managed a laugh—and John knows Arthur’s laughs. This one is light. Lighter,  maybe, than any he’s heard in years. John began to laugh too. It was still dark, and huge, but it also bright, and there might have been a flash of teeth in the darkness beneath that hood, but it was alright because it was John. John.

John, his friend.

John, his—

Oh, I hate to break the two lovebirds up, Shub-Niggurath sighed. But we’re short on time. Ready?

“No,” John said.

Arthur stayed leaning, squeezing every last second of contact from this. “As ready as we’ll ever be. I guess.”

Close your eyes, Arthur. It’ll make this a bit easier.

He looked at his daughter (and Hastur, too, though his mind refused to contain that image).  Then he looked at John. Then he obeyed.

He felt John return before anything else—like the sensation of putting on the watch one always wore, or returning a ring back to its finger, or sinking into the warmth of one’s favorite sweater, and when he opened his eyes he saw nothing. He sighed. “John?”

I’m here, Arthur.

“Glad you’re back. It was empty in there.” He wiped his leaky eyes.

I can tell. Cobwebs all over the place. There was a pleased rumble in it.

“She forgave me, John. She knows. And she forgave me.”

His left hand took his right. Tell me all about it when we get back?

“Yes,” Arthur said softly. “I will. Where’s…”

“Here,” Hastur murmured. Faroe lay in his arms, quiet, her arms wrapped around one of his tentacles, and Nibbles pressed against his other side, for once not fighting him, biting him, snarling. 

Again—he did not grab.

Hesitant. That was the word. It did not fit him well.

Three steps ahead. To your left. There.

“Hastur,” Arthur said, his voice gentle. “Let’s go home.”

#

The portal home was quick. Effortless. Hastur suspected that the Great Mother may have eased their passage, and at this point he was far too tired to question it.

The throne room was dark and empty—it must have been close to midnight. Gingerly he set Arthur down, Faroe shortly after. Nibbles shook and trotted after, her face splitting in a great yawn.

So quiet, though. Unnervingly so. He lacked the emotional currency to deal with it. “We… must rest,” Hastur said, and it was not a command.

Hesitant.

Faroe swallowed. “Can I go to your room tonight?”

“Yes.” Hastur’s voice was soft. “Perhaps we all should—”

The lights shut off with a bang, like some old fashioned spotlight, and they all jumped.

And from the dark, from the far end of the room, a single voice stuttered through what could barely be called a tune. “Ha… ppy birth… day…. To you! Ha… ppy birth… day… to you. Ha… ppy biiiiirth…day….” The voice grew. “Dear… Farooooooe…”

And suddenly lights blazed, shocking, blinding, directly in their eyes.

Hastur grabbed them all, even Nibbles, holding them close, but there was no sparing this. The bizarre sound of an audience cheering wildly came from who knew where.

And then he was there, right in front of them, holding a messy birthday cake. Diminutive, comparatively, just the size of a human being—but his shadow stretched, and stretched, and grew behind him, eating the rest of the room, so that it seemed like the spotlit place where Hastur, John, Arthur, Nibbles, and Faroe stood was the last island of existence left in all the universe.

“Happy biiiiiiiirthday,” Kayne belted, “Toooooooo youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”

The unseen audience exploded in applause.

Kayne winked. “And… action.”

Somewhere, a grandfather clock struck twelve.

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

Notes:

Hastur’s quote was from "The Wreck of the Hesperus" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.10)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Ten) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,259 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death

Part Nine || Part Eleven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“I gotta run,” Natasha informed Wanda quietly, pulling her aside.

“Is there a problem?” Wanda asked concerned.

“Not yet.”

“Okay?” Wanda said, cocking an eyebrow.

Natasha was not going to give her anything else at the moment before she talked to Steve. “It’s fine. Don’t let Y/N worry about me being gone. Help her enjoy the party.”

“Alright,” Wanda responded, and Natasha nodded, before turning on her heel and walking off quickly to make sure to be out of the house before Y/N and Natalie emerged from the bathroom.

On her way out the door to her car, Natasha texted Steve.

I’m on my way to Tony’s. Don’t leave until I get there.

Is there something wrong?

Not immediate. I’ll be there soon.

<> <> <>

Natalie pulled away from you after a while – she had to have let you cry for a good few minutes – and wiped at your tears. “Here,” she said gently, leaving you to go towards the linen cupboard. She pulled out a washcloth and grabbed a small handful of toilet paper too. You thanked her, sniffling, wiping at your tears before using the tissue to blow your nose. You were sure you looked cute with snot hanging out there.

“Look. What can you do? Realistically?” Natalie asked you quietly.

Your shoulders slumped and you whispered, “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing, Y/N. You can hold your chin up,” Natalie told you, her fingers pushing your chin up as she spoke. She paused before asking, “Are you willing to leave the babies behind?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you pondered for a few seconds. You ended up shaking your head. “I… I thought so when this first all started out. But how can I leave two babies behind? They would financially be well taken care of, yes. But… I just can’t,” you said breathing shakily. “I don’t know if I could live with myself.”

“Well, I was only asking because I wondered if you did… if you thought Steve would leave you be. Even if you ran off.”

You shook your head again, giving a humorless laugh. “No, I don’t think Steve would leave me be. Bryce said he didn’t think Steve would kill me if I ran away. Which to me insinuates he would hurt or kill anyone else who tried to help me. I am hard pressed to believe that he wouldn’t want to kill me though. He’s not a man to wound, especially emotionally. Everyone talks to me like I’m… his property. That I’m carrying his property too.”

Solemnly, Natalie told you, “Some people treat others that way. That’s obsession, not love.”

“Or they’re all just misogynistic fucks. I mean… Pepper even told me that she dealt with it with Tony! He threatened to shoot me a couple weeks ago, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Natalie demanded, staring at you in absolute shock.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

“Y/N?” Miriam called from outside the door. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’ll be out in a second,” you called back. To Natalie, you whispered, “Shit, we have been in for a long while.”

Natalie grasped your shoulders, “You go out there. I’m going to go upstairs and pack you a bag.”

“What?” you asked flabbergasted.

“You heard me. My cousin has a cabin in New Hampshire. I’m going to take you there and then we can figure out what we are going to do next.”

“I—” you tried to argue but Natalie shushed you.

“Go out there. Be with them.”

“Natalie, I can’t,” you hissed, thinking of Wanda and Natasha out in the living room. “You just told me I didn’t have a plan! Plus, Tony’s got technology everywhere and Steve won’t let me go. Did you miss me saying he would ki—”

“If we leave during this party while everyone is distracted, Y/N, they won’t know which direction we went.”

“Your license plate—”

Natalie covered your mouth and said, “We need to stop arguing about this and just do it. I’m not going to leave here without you. It has to be now.”

She stared deep into your eyes, challenging you to argue with her. You knew you were not going to be able to convince her to drop this idea, not with the fire burning in her eyes.

When she knew you were not going to say anything more, her hand fell. You swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, wiping at your eyes one more time. “Good thing we already took pictures,” you muttered before going to the door and throwing it open.

Miriam’s brow creased seeing Natalie in there with you but you looped arms with her before she could say anything. “Sorry, I just needed to get some stress out. Poor Natalie had to endure that.” You threw a look over your shoulder at Natalie who was slow to leave the bathroom, mouthing her a thanks.

Your heart was pounding in anticipation.

<> <> <>

Natalie waited until Miriam and Y/N were out of sight before turning and going towards the entrance hall to the stairs leading upstairs. Quietly, she made her way up the stairs and searched around the second floor, looking for their bedroom.

There was a note on a door handle she passed by and she hesitated.

Don’t open until after you open your gifts. Love you, Steve.

Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door, thinking it was possibly their bedroom and Steve had left her something on their bed. Behind the door though laid the nursery. She swallowed sharply seeing balloons attached to the crib, no doubt a gift Steve had left in surprise for Y/N. It was oak grey, matching the dresser.

Quickly closing the door, Natalie continued on, trying to not think about the cameras that she was more than likely being filmed on right now and what Y/N had warned her about Steve’s wrath. Getting her friend to safety was more important than worrying about the what-ifs.

<> <> <>

Finding Natasha gone quelled your nausea slightly but not entirely. One less Avenger on the premises was cause for you to be more hopeful about Nataile’s rash plan working. Especially since Bryce was in the theater room, engrossed in a Michael Bay-esque film.

You grasped Yua’s arm as the group merged towards the patio where the cake was waiting and another few yard games. You asked her quietly, “You came with Natalie, right?”

“Mhm,” Yua affirmed, holding your arm back.

“When you two leave, I am going with you.”

“What?”

“Not so loud,” you whispered to her. “You just… if you don’t want to get involved, then get a ride home with Miriam. Please.”

“’Involved’? Y/N, what is going on?” Yua asked, stopping you and making you face her.

You leaned in and whispered, “I’m leaving. Natalie is taking me. She’s packing me a bag – hopefully getting herself some clothes too.” You were being vague, worrying still about the security cameras. “There is a lot of risk. Now, think about it. I need to go cut my cake and act normal.”

Without another word, you left her there, moving towards the table where the rest of the ladies were gushing over how beautiful the cake was.

<> <> <>

Steve was on Natasha as soon as she pulled up and got out of the car.

“Can we go inside?” she asked, staring up at him.

It did not seem like he wanted to wait because he rolled his eyes but stepped back and she moved around him, him on her heels.

“What happened?” Steve demanded as he followed her through the front door.

“Where’s Tony?”

“Why am I being dragged into this?” Tony drawled as she walked in from the hallway. He was on the couch in front of the flatscreen, arms sprawled along the back of the couch.

“Because it’s your man too.”

Tony was interested suddenly, sitting up straighter. Steve stood off to the side of the couch, waiting impatiently for Natasha to get to the point.

She met his eyes and asked seriously, “Has Bryce talked to you? About Y/N asking him for help to leave?”

Steve’s face pinched. “No,” he said sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh boy,” Tony breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I heard her. Talking to her friend, Natalie, in the bathroom. I was outside and doing some rounds to get some air. Thought it was a little weird they were both in the bathroom. So, I got near the bushes and heard them talking about it. Y/N was going on about how she feels trapped—” Steve’s jaw clenched at this, not going unnoticed by Natasha. But she kept speaking anyway. “And how she wants it to work with you but doesn’t think you’ll ever let her breathe and have her own space. Said she knows Natalie warned her about you, but you were too sweet, and she didn’t care about the warning.”

Steve scoffed, hands coming to his hips. He sucked at his teeth, shaking his head.

“So, what about Bryce?” Tony asked impatiently.

“She said she asked Bryce to help her leave Steve,” Natasha explained. “And he wouldn’t help her and made her promise she wouldn’t try to leave. But it sounded like she had another plan. Something about taking a train and stealing someone’s ticket at the station so she wouldn’t be on camera at the ticket counter – presumably so you wouldn’t know where she was going. She said something outlandish about living at a church and taking them up on hospitality and working for them to make up for it. Which, Natalie to her credit, told her that was a dumb plan. And Y/N agreed. But she wanted Natalie in the bathroom with her to use her phone, again presumably, so you couldn’t see the search in her phone.” Natasha caught Steve’s eyes again and told him firmly, “When you said she was rattled when this all first started, she hasn’t settled, Steve. She’s a mess of nerves. And she definitely sounds like she’s willing to be impulsive and reckless about it.”

It was silent in the room, Steve’s fingers digging into his hips. His jaw was clenched so tightly Natasha thought of him cracking his teeth.

“That little, conniving bitch!” Steve growled, his hands falling to his sides and he began storming towards the hallway.

Natasha stepped in his path and he stopped, rearing up to glower at her, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Move, Nat,” Steve warned her in a dangerous voice.

“I came here specifically to tell you so you would not lose your shit in the middle of a party,” Natasha told Steve firmly. “So, can you do me a favor and respect that? Cool out and think?”

“I don’t think this warrants me cooling off and giving Y/N any sense of calm,” Steve returned, his voice rising. “She was going to leave me and take my children away from me, Nat!”

Tony chimed in from behind Steve, “I think the problem here is Bryce not telling you,” Steve craned his head to look back at him. Tony looked right pissed off, rivaling Steve. “Woman is hormonal, standing on shaky ground emotionally. Bryce has his head on right – or at least we thought he did. Him agreeing to not help her is working in his favor but he shouldn’t keep that shit to himself. He should have told you the moment it happened. Just making her promise to not do something isn’t going to do shit, especially if she’s promising him. What is he to her? Her bodyguard? Whoopee fucking doo.” Tony shook his head. “No, that’s fucked up. He had a duty to tell you.”

Steve’s cell phone rang interrupting the conversation, and he swore under his breath, pulling it out of his back pocket. He furrowed down at it before answering tightly, “Wanda?”

Natasha took a step closer, trying to hear her on the other end of the phone. Steve’s face fell for a moment, like the air had gotten kicked out of him.

He recovered quickly, demanding furiously, “What the hell do you mean she’s not there?”

Tony was standing now, at attention. He was watching Steve nervously, thinking of a super soldier losing his shit and breaking shit in his house.

“How long?” Steve shouted, losing his temper. He shook his head furiously and snarled, “Twenty minutes doesn’t give them long to get anywhere. And why were you doing dishes? Where the hell was Bryce—never mind. You know what. Just stay there. Have Bryce and the security check the grounds again.”

He hung up, holding his cell in his hands tightly. Steve was trembling with rage, his hand threatening to crush his phone. Tony and Natasha were silent, waiting for him to react. He breathed in deeply, over exaggerated, turning on his heel to walk towards the counter. He placed his phone down, gingerly despite his anger. His hands planted, his fingertips digging into the counter like he wanted to tear chunks off.

“If she is not there…” he trailed off. Exhaling, he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. His hands came up behind his hand, trying to stop himself from breaking Tony’s countertop in half with his fist.

“The train stations,” Natasha suggested, keeping her voice steady.

A few more deep breaths and Steve had the calm about him to say, “Someone else needs to drive because I’ll probably rip that goddamn steering wheel off.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog 

[ladyeliot]

“Let's go home?”

Request: @mycosmicparadise - Hi there! I think your idea is great, cheer up. I wanted to make an request, and don't worry if it takes a while. I had in mind Chris Evans x female reader, with Dodger please and make it fluff. Everything else I leave to you. Thanks a lot!

Thank you very much! You are the first request and my first one-shot at Tumblr. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Chris Evans x FemReader 

Word count: 1536

Notes: Fluff + Dodger / English is not my native language, sorry for the mistakes.

The sunset was near, the large windows of the room no longer allowed those warm rays to pass through that had disappeared just a few minutes ago. The sound that enveloped the atmosphere was concentrated in the non-stop tapping of the keys on the laptop, the last few days had been really exhausting. Last week you returned from a long week's holiday, which together with your move to New York had barely allowed you to keep up with the developments in your work, so you had a lot of work to do.

A small grunt from the chair caught your attention and made you look away from the computer screen for a few seconds, then smile as you continued to type and respond to emails. Your eyes focused on the small clock at the bottom of the computer window, which made you realise that the whole afternoon had passed without you even moving from your chair in front of the desk. You sighed and leaned back on the chair, thanking the change of position and being able to see through the shop as the street lamps were already lighting up the streets. You looked back at the chair to see that half-white, half-tan snout that was resting on a cushion.

"Don't look at me like that," you smile as he rests his face in his hands. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Dodger, realizing that he was paying attention to him, raised his head and with a small jump he went down to the ground. He seemed happy because he soon jumped over you to be caressed while expressing his emotion through some barking. It took you only a couple of minutes to get ready and go out into the street, the air crashed into your face, for even though it was the month of September the weather reported that the cold was approaching New York. Greenwich Village was a lively neighbourhood, the streets were busy at the time, and you had chosen to hide under a Red Sox cap that you had stolen from your beloved boyfriend. Dodger knew what the route was, since every afternoon you used to go for a walk along the Hudson River. Near where you lived there was a park that allowed you to escape from all the tumult of the big city, to find yourself in a moment of peace and tranquility.

You wouldn't know how long you were walking, but night was already falling on the big city. You both sat on a small wooden bench where you could look out over the other side of Jersey City. The lights produced a strange melancholy in you, however something distracted you from your own thoughts. Dodger began to bark and try to get off the leash when he saw a figure in the distance, somewhat blurred by the low light produced by the streetlights. You got up from the bench and turned to look at the person who was approaching, until you could discover who it was and a smile lit up your face.

"I knew I'd find you here," he said as he bent down to pet Dodger. "Where else would you be?"

You kept your smile on your face until Chris approached her to kiss your lips. It was a kiss full of tenderness, just like he used to give you after a day without seeing you.

"Did you miss me?" he moved only a few inches away from your face and stroked your cheek.

"Do you really want me to answer?” you bit your lower lip, while showing a little crooked smile.

"I see," he muttered, nodding to himself. "I guess not much, because I've been calling you on the phone and you didn't answer... Until I got home and realised that you had left it there.

Chris took the mobile phone out of his pocket, but the moment you reached for it, he waved it away again. 

"I don't think you need it right now," whispered Chris as he placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

In a thousandth of a second your lips would merge in an intense and warm kiss again. The air that flooded New York City that night stopped for a moment around you, avoiding creating discomfort and breaking that moment. Chris slowly caressed the locks of your hair that fell on your shoulders while at the same time he held his other hand on your chin making that kiss unfinished. You couldn't help but draw a little smile as his beard took over the kiss itself, touching the corners of your mouth. At that very moment, a bark from the floor caught your attention, undoing the probably most romantic moment of the day you were living. You looked at Dodger and where he was looking at, just ten meters away from them there was a person leaning on the railing looking at the Hudson riverbed, but what inspired Dodger to bark was the fact that there was a Husky next to that person who seemed to have caught his full attention. Chris bent down to catch up with his dog and stroked him as he was being sucked by him, which he barely tried to avoid.

"We'd better go, we don't want Dodger to break any more hearts this afternoon," Chris stood up and took the strap from your hands, intertwined your fingers and placed a little kiss on your cheek. “What would you like to do for dinner tonight?”

"What did you have in mind for me?"

You put your other hand to the one you both had intertwined and looked up to contemplate with a wide smile Chris' face that was a few inches higher than yours.

"What did I have in mind to prepare for you," Chris repeated with a small laugh and nod at the end of the question.  "Let me think..." he paused slightly as he bathed his lips with his tongue. "How about a plate of cool ranch doritos combined with avocado sauce?

"Very appetizing" you said with ironic certainty nodding, as your boyfriend began to laugh and deposited a kiss on your forehead that was at the height of his lips. "By the way, this afternoon I have been informed that I have to travel a week earlier to Scotland, there have been a number of problems due to the weather, and the merger between the companies has had to be brought forward".

"And when are you supposed to leave?" asked Chris in a calm tone of voice, but at the same time showing his discontent in his scowl.

"Next week," you barely let out a thread of voice with inner guilt. "But I'll only be gone a couple of weeks.”

"Oh, come on! That means that when you go home, I'll go to Atlanta" his voice contained a tone of heaviness, while showing a bit of desperation when it came to gestures.  "And I wasn't going back to Atlanta until the end of the month.”

"I know and I'm sorry, I was hoping to spend time in New York with you at least until you started filming again, but it seems that these impediments have arisen," both were detained in the park by the river. Chris rested his back on the railing, while showing a gesture of regret on his face, he had already broken eye contact with her.  "I'm very sorry, I know we'll hardly see each other for the next two months, but I promise you we can make up for all that time.”

They both knew that their lifestyle would cause this series of situations, they had experienced it before in the other relationships and it could be a source of conflict in order to cope with their day to day life, however they were fully aware that both were willing to face them. You positioned yourself in front of him by dropping your body onto Chris' body, put your arms around him and looked upwards for his gaze. Your boyfriend kept his gaze fixed on the distance, his face turned to the right avoiding eye contact. You smiled melancholy, you knew Chris' tactic, he used it whenever he didn't want to argue with you.You raised your right hand to caress his cheek, which caused Chris to look into your eyes.

"Let's go home?" she asked, waiting for an affirmative answer from him, who, after smiling back at you, nodded his face.

Those were the first months of a relationship that began in a certain way. Hope was not placed in them, much less that feelings would arise so deep that they would plan a life together, making their residence in New York City official. However, in that brief period of time in which they had been able to meet and find the real person that the other was hiding inside, they had been able to verify that for some reason both were in that place and in that instant together, and that reason mainly was why they were going to fight.

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Tag list:  @imerdwarf​ @mycosmicparadise

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - iv (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The wedding and the consummation.

Warnings: poorly written SMUT (18+. Minors DNI), loss of virginity, mentions of character death, I forget to put this but there is an AGE GAP between Steve and the reader (the ages aren’t explicitly noted, Oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, breeding (but it’s not a kink?), Steve’s not an asshole (omg wow)

Word Count: 4k (got carried away)

Bring Him Light Masterlist

I hope you guys enjoy!

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Two days went by quickly. It was a blur. In a blink of an eye, you weren’t standing in front of Steven in the halls of the castle, but was dawning on your wedding gown for the final time as your ladies and your mother fawned around you, trying to get you ready.

Wanda fluffed out the skirt and then fiddled with your hair, opting for a regal updo. Your mother smiled at you through the mirror as she smoothed out your shoulder. Natasha added the vail as soon as Wanda was finished.

“Don’t cry, mother,” you muttered when you noticed her teary eyes. She gave you a tight lipped smile as she laughed a bit and dabbed her eyes.

“Two weeks ago, you tried to run away because you didn’t want this day to come. Now, you’re standing before me in a wedding dress as the beautiful, blushing bride. I wonder what’s changed.” Your mother said. You detected a hint of sorrow in her voice. You deducted that it was her coming to realize that you were no longer her baby girl. You were to become a woman that night and crowned a queen soon enough.

“I’m still a virgin mother,” you lightly joked in an attempt to brighten her mood. It worked. She rolled her eyes and laughed. Natasha and Wanda giggled as they did the finishing touches.

You were trembling as you stood at the top of the staircase. You heard murmurs of excitement in the floor beneath you. Everyone eager to see the merge of House York and House Rogers. You stared at the bouquet in your shaking hands. White roses accented with tiny forget-me-nots. Wanda told you that King Steven handpicked them in the gardens.

You glanced back at Natasha who gave you an encouraging nod as the organ began to play. The crowd quickly fell into silence as you slowly descended from the top of the staircase. Each step was a weight being lifted from you. It became easier and easier – almost to the point where you felt as if you were floating as light as air.

Your father met you at the bottom of the staircase. He smiled at you as you revealed yourself to him for the very first time. He wasn’t teary-eyed like your mother. Perhaps it was because as a king – as a man – he refused to show any weakness.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered to you as he presented you his arm and you took it.

You weren’t sure where to look as you rounded the corner and made it to the open throne room doors. You felt all the stares on you at once. It made you want to shrink into yourself – disappear if you could. So, instead, you kept your own stare straight and you were glad you did.

At the end of the aisle stood King Steven. His hair had been cut and his beard was gone. He looked like his portraits. But there was something different. Perhaps it was the faint smile on his lips that quivered at the sight of you. Wait… No… it was the eyes. Portraits made his blue eyes, dark, cold, unnerving.

But in this light, the man standing, waiting for you to be at his side, had different eyes. Tearful yet joyful. Excited. He stared at you with adoration. The sunset that poured in through the massive windows made him a sight to behold.

Your father gave you a kiss on the forehead and a small nod as he pulled his arm away from you. He handed you over to the other king. The two exchanged a look. A father giving warning to his daughter’s future husband. Treat her right, your father’s look said.

You turned and handed your bouquet to Natasha before you and Steven kneeled before the bishop. The wedding contracts were brought out. Steven signed first. Your hands trembled as you took a grip on the quill. You glanced over at your parents, who smiled and nodded. There was no going back now – and perhaps, you didn’t want to. With a deep breath, you signed your name and the ceremony continued.

»————-　⚜　————-««

You fiddled with the tassels of the cloak that was wrapped around your shoulders. It was a Brooken tradition that the husband wraps his bride in a cloak, or a tapestry of some kind, to bring her under his protection. The music blared on as excited chatter flooded the hall.

You were exhausted and had just finished dancing with your husband. The entire kingdom – or at least the ones who were in the castle – saw a change in the king. They remembered his last wedding to Queen Sharon many years before and how he danced with his bride once before retiring to his seat for the entire evening.

That king was gone. They knew it from the moment he refused to let you leave the dancefloor, making you dance with him for what felt like ages. The king who rarely smiled or laughed was like a child on Christmas when he stared down at you, when he held you to him, when he kissed you gently on the lips.

The change was welcomed though whispers about your demise was still being spread. Sure, the king seemed happy now. They hoped you would make him happy for the rest of his life, but the idea that King Steven’s queens were cursed or the idea that the king kills his wives still hung in the air. But no one dared bring it up on this day. This day was to be a joyous day. Brooken has a new queen. Their king has a new wife.

As the night dwindled down, you’ve lost count of how many lords and ladies bowed before you and your husband, all wishing you blessings and fruitful lives. Many meant it. King Steven was the last of his line and without an heir, the throne would go to Brock Rumlow who others despised. They wished that you would bring the king a son. Many envious ladies bowed before you, all who wished they were the one at the king’s side. Even Lord Rumlow and Lord Pierce toasted to your health and happy marriage.

A woman came up to the royal table. She was the date of one of Steven’s distant cousins – far too distant that he had no chance of gaining support to take the throne in the event the king dies without an heir. You heard the whispers and snickers from the ladies of the court the moment the woman arrived. “Witch,” they said. Neither you nor Steven believed in magic but decided to entertain the woman out of respect for his cousin. As distant as he may have been, he was still family.

She began muttering foreign words. Gasps erupting around you. The foreign words, from a witch of all people, was perceived as a threat – was she cursing you? Was she wishing death upon you or the king? Your father stood up in outrage as did your husband. His cousin put up his hands when guards started to surround them.

“It’s a fertility spell, your majesties!” He defended. “A fertility spell for the new bride’s womb!” Steven visibly relaxed, settling back into his seat. His hand found yours underneath the table. You tried to soothe him and rubbed small circles with your thumb although you were also rattled, thinking this woman might been the cause of the “cursed wives” rumor. You clenched your jaw and thanked his cousin and the woman as soon as she finished.

“I find that mildly offensive,” your father said as soon as he left. You laughed although you subtly felt the same.

“He’s a distant cousin.” Steven reminded, slightly embarrassed that someone from his family had the audacity to bring in “magical” assistance – and here everyone in Brooken thought the Starks were a strange family.

“Of course,” you chuckled. He glanced over at you, entranced by your smile. The dress, the flowers, everything made you look angelic. Steven couldn’t help himself but lean in and capture your lips with his.

“Well, I guess it’s time, then.” Your father said with a chuckle. You pulled away from your husband’s lips and felt heat rise to your cheeks. It felt strange showing affection in front of your parents, especially since a fortnight ago you were refusing to marry the king you now called your husband.

It was announced that you and the king would retire for the consummation. The music played on as your guests continued to dance and socialize among themselves. As you both excited the hall, there were whoops and cheers from the crowd. Some whispered and hoped that you would conceive Brooken’s heir this night. Your husband gave your hand a last kiss before you were swept away by your ladies to prepare for your wedding night.

Wanda had undone your hair as soon as Natasha managed to undo all laces of the corset. You bit at your fingernails nervously as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were pale. A fear stricken young lady stood before you. Shivering and frightened, unsure of how tonight’s events would play out.

“Will it hurt?” You asked the two though you didn’t quite know why. They were both unwed. They were still maidens. Surely, they wouldn’t have any advice.

Wanda and Natasha glanced at one another, unsure of what to say. Should they lie to their queen? Say whatever they can to ease your nerves and lure you into a false sense of security when you lay with your husband for the first time? Or should they be truthful to their friend? Tell you the stories they hear from the whispers of other married women and the courtesans that entertained the unwed lords?

They chose to prepare you for what’s to come. There was no use in lying.

“It may, but just relax and breathe through it,” Natasha offered with a nervous smile. “The ladies say the men like to do the work, so let him work.”

Wanda put the cloak back on your shoulders, covering your night slip and your body underneath the heavy fabric. “Breathing is good.” She nodded. She wasn’t quite sure what else to tell you either. Your friend wanted to tell you that if it hurt too much to tell the king to stop, but she knew the advice would be pointless. As queen – as the king’s wife – it was your duty to bear him children at whatever cost and the marriage had to be consummated.

“We should go…” Natasha muttered. She put her hands on your shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

-=+=-

You were in the king’s bedchambers first. You were surprised to see that it was empty. You expected Steven to be inside already waiting for you. Your ladies bid you their farewells as they left, leaving you to sit on the giant bed and contemplate. You were shaking. Your leg started to bounce against the floor.

As you got lost in your thoughts, the chamber doors opened to reveal Steven. He wore a white night shirt with matching trousers. You gulped as you stood up, straightening out your nightgown and interlocking your fingers in front of your stomach. This was happening.

“How should you have me?” You asked. Your voice was barely above a whisper and shook as you spoke. Steven didn’t respond. The silence was deafening and you couldn’t bare sit in it for any longer.

He smiled. “Pardon?” He heard you, but he just wanted to hear you say it again. So, you repeated the words. Steven bit his lip that curled into a grin and shook his head, a laugh escaping him. Your face fell… was he not interested in you? Did you not … did you not arouse him? As if reading your mind, he rushed in front of you and took your hands in his. “I do not laugh to make fun of you, (Y/N). I simply found it amusing.”

“You find me amusing… and not arousing?” You questioned, feeling doubt and insecure.

He shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I simply mean that I have not heard a woman ask me that before I bedded her.” He pressed another kiss to your temple, inhaling that intoxicating scent. “I want you to enjoy this… This is your first after all.” He began to kiss his way down from your temple to your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck. You relished in the feeling, a tingling sensation taking over your body as he left open-mouthed kisses on the delicate skin of your neck. “If you’re uncomfortable, if it hurts – if I hurt you, please let me know.”

You nodded. You couldn’t find the words. Maybe it was because of your nerves, or perhaps you were drowning in the feeling of his lips on your skin. You weren’t quite sure.

He removed the cloak from your shoulders and began to kiss down to your collarbones as his fingers slowly began to unravel the loose ties of your nightgown. You were shaking, still. Before he considered pulling the gown off, he leaned in, ghosting over your lips with his before planting one gentle kiss.

“Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your jaw with one hand. You nodded. “Truthfully?”

“I’m frightened.” You admitted.

“Don’t be. I’ll be careful and if you tell me to stop, I will. God willing, we will have a lifetime of conceiving heirs ahead of us. It needn’t be done this night.”

“We must consummate the marriage.”

“Not at the expense of your comfort.”

“Please…” You murmured. “Please just touch me.”

Without another word, his lips found yours again. His hands scrunched at the skirt of the slip and slowly brought it up and over your body. He took a moment to admire you as the chilly night air met your skin. Goosebumps rose on your skin although you weren’t sure if it was from the air or from Steven’s stare. You felt your face flush as your hands instinctively tried to cover yourself.

“You’re beautiful,” Steven said. Gently unwrapping your arms from your body as if you were a present. He led you to the massive bed. His eyes never left yours as he removed his nightshirt, baring himself to you.

Your eyes widened. Of course, you were aware of the king’s massive build. His fancy clothes and coats did not hide his shoulders very well. He was like one of his sculptures – absolutely breathtaking. He slowly started to pull his trousers down, so you bashfully looked away, feeling your face heat up even more.

Steven crawled over you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. His hands brushed your hair away from your face, cupping you with his massive palms. You felt something hard rub against your thigh. You weren’t naïve enough to be unsure of what it was… You knew.

He licked at your bottom lip. You weren’t sure what that meant so you paid it no mind. One of his hands abandoned your face and slowly slithered down to your slickening folds. You moaned when he stroked against a bud within the folds. He took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth and you didn’t hate the feeling.

You remembered Natasha’s advice – “let him work” – and decided to let him dominate the kiss and the pace. Your skin tingled as your lower region increasingly became heated underneath Steven’s ministrations.

He kissed your lips once more before slowly descending down your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. Your eyes widened in realization and embarrassment as you tried to pull yourself from underneath him, but his hands grabbed at your thighs and held you in place.

“Steven – “

“Trust me.” He muttered, staring up at you from between your thighs. When you relaxed into his touch, he gave one broad-tongued lick to your folds. The sensation made you threw your head back into the pillows with your eyes closed.

Steven pulled apart your lower lips and focused his tongue on the same bud. You couldn’t hold in the moans that escaped you. Your hands blindly lost themselves in his golden locks. You couldn’t help imagine how this would feel if Steven hadn’t shaved his beard.

He had you gasping. Your walls were clenching around nothing until he slowly inserted a finger. You flinched, but his tongue working its way through you dulled the ache. With the single finger, he stroked against your walls, exploring your tight channel. A coil started to tighten in your stomach. He groaned against your cunt and your thighs clenched his head, holding him in place – not that he minded.

Another finger was pushed into you which caused you to squeak. A spark was sent through your body. “Steven…” you murmured, but he didn’t respond, too caught up in you. He thrusted and curled his fingers as you clenched. His tongue was relentless as if you were a fine wine that he couldn’t get enough of. “St – Steven…” You moaned your husband’s name as you felt the coil snap and you felt yourself gush around the king’s fingers. He returned your moan with his own as he lapped up your juices.

Your chest was rising and falling heavily as your thighs released their hold on the king’s head. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his smirk. His lips and chin shined in the candlelight. His tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping up what was left of you on his lips and fingers, using the back of his hand to wipe away his chin.

“You alright?” He asked you.

“Wh – What happened?”

Steven smiled at you. You were so innocent. You were a sight to behold beneath him. Naked with your exposed skin covered in a sheen of sweat and lips swollen from his kiss. “You orgasmed,” he told you. You flushed at his words. “Are you ready, my love?” You nodded.

It was only then you saw his member for the first time. Your eyes widened at the sight. You remembered your comment to one of your father’s councilmen – “men who are well endowed give their wives sons.”

If you did fall pregnant this night, you were certain that the king would breed a son within you.

Steven was kneeling between your knees. He bent your legs and widened them, giving him a better look at your dripping cunt. He pumped his member a few times and teased you with the tip.

You took a deep breath and winced as the head penetrated you. Slowly, he started to push into you, watching his cock enter you. You felt your entire body clench as you struggled to accommodate to his sizeable girth.

The pressure, the stretch it felt unbearable. You winced and groaned out in pain. Steven stopped moving.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“It… It’s fine.” You answered with a strained voice. The king shook his head and began to retreat from within you, but you shook your head as your legs unraveled to wrap around his torso, keeping him in place. His movements halted as he stared at you with concern. “Keep going…” You begged. “Please…”

Hesitantly, the king began to push into you again. After long beats of intense pressure and the feeling of being torn open, the king had finally sheathed his length into your maidenhood. He leaned over your body so that he completely entrapped you underneath him. He peppered your face – cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, anything his lips could touch – with light kisses as he whispered sweet nothings and praises into your ear.

“Can I move?” He whispered. You nodded.

Slowly, the king pulled out little by little only to gently push right in, acquainting your walls with him. On one particular thrust, you jolted as he grazed a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed. You felt a rush of pleasure despite still being in a bit of pain. Steven reveled in your reaction as your winces soon became moans.

His thrusts were gentle although he had begun a steady speed. He groaned into your ear – the sound going straight into your hot core. “You feel so good,” his voice was like a growl.

The sound of skin slapping was faint, muddled by the pleasure-riddled sounds that left yours and Steven’s lips. Sensitive from your previous orgasm, you already felt that familiar coil begin to tighten. You involuntarily clenched around the king’s cock. He groaned at the sensation, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He gently bit at the skin and kissed the bruises that formed.

“Steve – Steven!” You moaned, your back caving as the coil snapped for a second time that night. Your walls were like a vice on the king, milking him and tempting him.

He moaned out your name in kind, slamming his hips into yours which made you gasp. A warm feeling spread throughout your sex. The king stayed inside of you. His head still buried into your neck. Both of you were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, kissing the delicate skin of your décolletage. Still breathless, you shook your head. Steven pulled away from your neck and grabbed one of the many pillows behind you. Carefully, he pulled out of you – you winced at the sudden emptiness – and placed the pillow underneath your waist, elevating your pelvis. You thought if this was another Brooken tradition, but then realized it was to keep his seed inside of you.

Steven settled to your side. An arm wrapping around your stomach as he nuzzled into your body. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you turned your head to stare at him.

“I … “you said but stopped yourself. You clenched your jaw, unsure of how to recover. You felt butterflies in your stomach – though, it could’ve just been the king’s seed.

Steven leaned in to kiss you gently. You smiled against his lips. Perhaps, this life could be great after all.

»————-　⚜　————-««

Your parents were quiet on their journey home. It’s been three days since your wedding. Your mother teased your father about your sudden radiance as you walked through the castles. They would miss your coronation, but they did have their own kingdom to handle.

The joys of the wedding were left at Brooken as they embarked on their journey back to York. Your mother’s teasing nature and happy smiles were gone as she stared out the carriage window. Your father had a gloomy expression to match.

“I hope she gets pregnant soon…” Your mother muttered.

“I’d rather not talk about my daughter’s sexual escapades.” Your father half-joked. His mood didn’t brighten.

“We should’ve told her.”

“If we told her, she wouldn’t have gotten married and she would’ve pushed to be brought home.” Your father sighed. He raised a fighter. An arguer. A bright young woman that was now a queen.

“She has a right to know.” Your mother reasoned.

“You were alone with her more than I was. You had the chance to tell her. Why didn’t you?” Your father snapped. His wife stayed silent. The tension in the carriage was so thick that a blade wouldn’t even cut through it.

Queen Virginia sniffled. Your father’s hard expression softened as he wrapped his arm around his queen, pulling her to his side. She curled into his chest as she began to cry.

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I will outlive my own son.” Your mother cried. Her voice cracked as a sob escaped her. The words broke Tony’s heart. “I brought him into this world. He was meant to be a king…”

“No one could’ve foreseen his illness,” your father soothed. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her arms to comfort her.

“He will leave us in a few months’ time… Will she even have the opportunity to say goodbye?”

“It’s better she doesn’t know. She will leave Steven’s side and he will be crushed when his queen refuses to stay by him.”

“She deserves to say goodbye to her brother, Tony.”

“I agree, my love,” your father sighed. “But when the time comes, when Harvey dies and I, god willing, long after, she will truly unite the north. The North will be one under her rule as the rightful queen of York and Brooken. Long may (Y/N) Rogers reign.”

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Reader would like to apologize for the decision Steve Rogers is about to make. No smut just sadness.

Small Time Witch (24)

F I V E Y E A R S L A T E R....

.....And so far you’ve survived. Your days are not without moments of melancholy. Your thoughts meander back to the days when the two of you would sit quietly in your loft reading the day away. The music of old book pages turning and tea cups clinking onto saucers filled the air. The song still plays but it only plays for you.

You’ve become somewhat reclusive over the years. You’ve stopped going to the bar and haven’t talked to Jason. It’s just as well. Hopefully he’s found someone to help him move on. Maybe he’s happy.

Despite your official hermit status you are happy. You have a routine and just enough human contact to keep you from going completely insane. Friends come and go. Some stay the night sometimes longer. You welcome human contact in controlled doses. Some you welcomed more than others. Mostly you enjoyed your self imposed solitude.

Sometimes you take the trip to visit Hilde. She is taking care of the day to day business in New Asgard since Thor doesn’t come out much. She is always exciting and happy. When you need that she is happy to give it.

Today you are heading up the coast to meet her. When you hit a certain spot you put down your windows so the salt and brine of the ocean can fill your car. It smelled like Hilde. The air is crisp and the wind biting. Your hair whips your face as you sing loudly with the radio. She meets you at the entrance to the city with a big smile and a bigger kiss. With her you feel reborn.

“Your timing could not be more perfect. Thor has guests.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Guests? Who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You jumped back into your car and drove as close as you could to his hovel. You knocked on his door and Bruce answered. Though, it wasn’t Bruce. It was like Bruce and Hulk somehow merged to form a super Bruce.

“Y/n! Good to see you.” He wrapped you in his big green arms taking care not to crush you. “Angry girl!” He high-fived Hilde who smiled at you with immense amusement. “This is Rocket.” You shook hands with a raccoon. A freaking raccoon.

Thor glared at you, “I suppose they sent you in to bring me back as well.”

“Umm no. I was just here to visit Hilde. This was a pleasant surprise. I’m sorry bing you back? Is something happening?”

“We found a way to undo it all.” Bruce said with a cautious tone.

“Yeah but not Loki though so...” Thor looked was pretty drunk and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. Guilt rose from your chest and burned your throat. You should have pushed harder to see him.

“He wasn’t snapped so we don’t know. We’re going to try, Y/N.”

Your were filled when righteous indignation. No one bothered to even fill you in on their plan. If there was even a slim chance Loki could be brought back they should have told you.

Thor saw your balled fists crackle with electricity. “Y/N should come back with us. It’s the only way I’ll go.”

“I don’t know, Thor....”

“Bruce, I’m coming.” You looked back at Hilde who smiled though you could feel you were hurting her feelings. “Don’t leave without me. You..” you dragged her outside.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Tears shimmered in her eyes though she did her best to play them off.

“Yes, I do.” You pressed your lips against hers. She pulled you closer and deepening the kiss. Everything you had to say to her was in that kiss. I’m sorry. I love you. Goodbye. I’ll miss you. It was all there. Hilde was not one for flowery words. She was a physical person and that’s how you had to show her how much she meant to you. You pressed your forehead to hers giving a few more gentle pecks. “Thank you.”

“It was most definitely my pleasure. When you see him, tell him I kept you warm and promise me you’ll take a picture of the scowl on his face.”

“I love you:”

“I love you more.”

———————————————————————

Bruce’s words churned in your head the whole way back to the compound. They were “going to try”. You were sure that Loki wasn’t a huge priority. The thought made you angry all over again.

The Avengers had no problem overlooking his past discretions when they needed him. He was mostly tolerated because of Thor. Now there may be a chance to bring him back and they were “going to try”. It was going to be really hard not to melt someone today.

When you pulled up Tony was outside waiting for you. He opened the car door and took your hand. “Y/N. Good to see you.”

You sensed a lecture so you leaned against the car and folded your arms so he could speak. “Did Banner fill you in?”

“Not really.”

“We’re going back to get the stones. Like back in time. We’ve tested it. It works.....just as long as there are no fuck ups. So I guess it begs the question: are you going to fuck it up?”

“Not intentionally?”

He sighs frustrated, “Look, kid. I know Loki means a lot to you. We have to bring everyone back and if that means your boyfriend not coming back...”

“Husband.”

“No shit? Huh. If that means your husband. We have to sacrifice something.”

You were beyond yourself. Your magic jumped through your fingers wildly. He watched you eyes wide holding his hands up in surrender. “Kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

“How many times did he save your asses? Yet you continued to punish him. Was his repentance not enough for you?! He sacrificed his life for that stupid stone. I don’t see anyone sacrificing you.” You raised your hand to knock him on his ass when Thor bear hugged you and dragged you away.

“Little sister you must control your temper. I will let you go if you promise not to kill anyone.” You struggled for a moment then relaxed against his chest. He spoke softly against your hair, “I want him back too. I miss him. If you can control yourself there is a way.”

He told you the plan to retrieve both the space stone and mind stone at the point of Loki’s arrest in 2012. “When they create the diversion you help him escape.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re clever. You’ll think of something.”

Neither of you were thinking clearly. This was a stupid and not at all thought out plan. Neither of you accounted for the fact that he would be under heavy guard. The 2012 Avengers wouldn’t know you so they would be far less sympathetic to you if you were caught. And the biggest risk of all was that 2012 Loki was going through some things and was definitely not the same man you felt in love with. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he figured out a way to use you and kill you when you were no longer needed. None of that mattered to you.

He waited for you to simmer down so he could bring you inside. You were met with sympathetic eyes and knowing smiles. You wanted to rip them all apart. The last eyes on you were Steve’s.

He gave you a quick hug hello and beckoned you into the other room.

“I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. You doing ok?

Eyes closed. Count to ten. Deep breath. Don’t explode at the man. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because if we couldn’t bring him back I would have to watch you lose him all over again and I can’t do that. Tony ran the possibilities, honey. He’s not coming back. I’m sorry.”

“Mhmm. Well I’m here so can I help?”

His lip quirked up on one side, “You sure can, Princess. You can watch the platform and electrocute anyone who comes near it.”

Condescending prick. “No. I want to come with you.”

“Nope” he said with a pop of his lips.

“Steve, please! I just want to see him again. I’ll stay with you the whole time. I promise. And don’t tell me it’s dangerous. You know I can handle myself. Please.” You grabbed his hands and forced him to look at you. “I just want to see him. What would you give for that chance? What would you give to see the woman you love again?”

His eyes softened, “I’m looking at her.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m not talking about me.”

He knew you were talking about Peggy. And, you were right, he’d give anything. He couldn’t deny you this one time chance.

“Fine. But you stick by me and you do. not. do. anything. Promise me.”

“I promise. Thank you. You’re a good man, Steve. I love you.” You hugged him around his waist and he felt in his bones that this was a bad decision. He considered this his final declaration of his adoration.

“I love you too, Princess. Always.” He pressed the two pieces of Yggdrasil into your palm. He had kept them all this time locked away in a box inside of his sock drawer. Your eyes started to get a little misty. He kissed the top of your head and spoke softly in your ear, “Always.”

You all suited up jumped on the platform and hit the buttons. You landed in a alley littered with rubble from the attack. Hulk ran by smashing everything in his path. You split up into your predetermined teams and went to your positions.

Once you were in your new gear you joined the other men and women guarding Loki.

The closer you got to him the stronger the pull. You were falling apart inside. Every muscle in your arms trembled forcing you to reach out. To touch him. Your breath hitched in your throat and came out like a quiet sob. They all heard it. You shifted uncomfortably in your suit and your body propelled itself in his direction.

“Y/n, you good?” you heard Steve speak. He held his breath when you got closer to your husband. “Y/n keep it together. We are so close, baby” You held your finger to your earpiece and a high pitched ringing filled your ear. You cut your comms. “Shit! Tony, stop her!”

You were close enough to him now that he would be able to feel you. He had to know that you meant him no harm. You spoke softly so only he could hear, “Don’t look at me. When I say ‘go’ grab the tasseract and go. Blink twice if you understand.” He blinked twice and you moved away.

It all happened so fast. Scott triggered the arc reactor to short out. Present day Tony escapes with the Tasseract. You were supposed to follow behind him which you did. You felt Hulk’s rage emanating from the stairwell. In one fluid motion you pushed Tony towards the door and kicked the case which opened at Loki’s feet. He reached for the cube when he felt your hand on him. “Go!” and you followed with him.

Scott Tony and Steve made it outside with the spear. They argued for a second before Tony realized you weren’t with them.

“Where is she? Steve! Oh I’m going to kill her!”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “Come on, Tony. We’ll find another way.”

When they went back to the base in Jersey Steve began to feel all of the things he suppressed for so many years. He was a man out of time and felt like he had no place in it. He just wanted to get it right. Right now he should be old and surrounded by grandchildren. He was done fighting.

He never expected to see Peggy but there she was. Peggy wanted those things too. His eyes followed the curve of her crimson lips that he dreamed of kissing for years. He thought about your words. What would he give? Everything. When this fight was over he would give up everything. He made his decision right then and there.

[eurosong]

Undo my ESC 2021 - Semi-final 1

Good afternoon, folks! Every year, I take a look at each semi-final and share what feasible change I would make – as small as changing a few lines of the song or an element of staging, or as big as a different song completely winning a national final – to make it even better (just in my own opinion of course!) This year will be harder than usual, but I’ll try to set aside my conviction that every 2020 artist should have been able to return to see how different SF1 might look. Let’s go!

🇱🇹 Lithuania: PiN was in the Roop's hands, and whilst I fell in love with some of the underdog songs they were up again, most notably Home and Never fall for you again I wouldn't take away the chance away from the Roop. There's nothing I'd change about Discoteque, and I love their nod to On fire, but the way that they also took things in a different direction to last time.

🇸🇮 Slovenia: I may be in a small minority, but I absolutely love Amen and I loved Voda too! Ana Soklič has so much presence and stunning vocals with so much texture and depth; she can sell me pretty much everything. My only change would be to insert Slovenian language lyrics!

🇷🇺 Russia: I was initially really disappointed that we wouldn't see the iconic Little Big on the ESC stage - but I commend the way they wanted to share the limelight with other artists. The unexpected Russian mini-NF ended up being a revelation and very diverse for its size. I liked all three songs, but I think that the best hands down won. There is nothing I have to change to Russian woman, one of the most powerful propositions of the season for me. I just hope juries will value it and we won't see a Telemóveis style situation!

🇸🇪 Sweden: After a year of being happy with the result in Sweden - I was always in Dotter's corner, but who can't love the Mamas? - we return to more familiar terrain of an MF result disgruntling me. Tusse has charisma and talent, but his song is lacklustre at best for me. My fav was, once again, Dotter, and I wish that either she'd taken the win or that the Mamas got their shot at ESC as main artists.

🇦🇺 Australia: I really enjoy Technicolour, one of the more out-of-left-field entries from Oz. I am so intrigued as to what the Diane Warren song offered to Montaigne was like, as I'm certain that this isn't it, but I'm glad she trusted her gut and went for something so distinctive. My one change would be to get rid of the unnecessary key change at the end.

🇲🇰 Macedonia: When there was a nationalistic furore with attempts to stop Vasil from representing MK, I was entirely on his side even though his song for me is one of the least appealing of the edition. I'd still want him to get his chance at ESC - but his Sudbina would have been such a more compelling entry for my taste.

🇮🇪 Ireland: Lesley Roy served nostalgic pop wonderment for the second year in a row, and another song that has etched itself already onto my life's soundtrack. I don't know what I'd change, except perhaps translate one of the choruses into Irish Gaelic - it'd make the message of a return to home even more resonant for me.

🇨🇾 Cyprus: Cyprus and I haven't seen eye to eye for several years now, and it's a shame as they were one of my favourite countries of the 90s. I do enjoy El diablo more than their last trio of songs, but I find it leans too heavy on a clear inspiration from Gaga, which takes away from some of the more original elements of the song. So, I'd rework the chorus, and also change some of the lyrics elsewhere because some lines just flat out make me cringe.

🇳🇴 Norway: I seem to have been in the minority of people delighted at MGP's final results! I had bigger favourites - the rambunctious sea shanty that is Vi er Norge, the kickass empowering Witch woods or the pulsating groove of Playing with fire - but I wouldn't take Tix' win away from him given how meaningful it was for him and what the guy has been through. My change? Revert partially or entirely to the Norwegian version, Ut av mørket; for me, it hits my heart harder.

🇭🇷 Croatia: Sincerely, my biggest disappointment of the NF season potentially - I wish Damir had been internally selected, not just because of my wish to see all ESC'20 alumni return, but because his was the best Croatian song for me since Moja štikla. Tick-tock is harmless but if we can't get a Damir return in this hypothesis, then I'd go for Rijeka, which captivated me with its epicness on first listen and has just risen in my estimation since. Though, given Nina's histrionics after coming second, maybe I'd have Albina perform the song instead.

🇧🇪 Belgium: I was prepared to not be on board with Belgium this year despite my long-lived love for the country - I found Release me, whilst orchestrated beautifully, entirely lacking in dynamism; and I really couldn't stand the way the band dumped Luka unceremoniously. And yet... this lush piece of art is one of my favs of the entire season. And there's something different and singular in Geike's voice. So the only thing I'm changing here are the dudes' attitudes to ESC so that they can value it more, especially Alex.

🇮🇱 Israël: As one of the most naturally charismatic performers of 2020, I had high hopes for Eden's return and the original idea of a mega-NF for her seemed really promising. Instead, we ended up with an uninspired strewing of songs, of which the best didn't even get the chance to be recorded by her. Set me free was my favourite of the three that got to the final, but I feel they've really worsened it with the revamp, in between the hail mary pass of the whistle vote and the extra emphasis on "I'mma". I would have Eden perform Shoulders instead - I don't know how it NQd and think it would allow her to showcase her personality a lot more.

🇷🇴 Romania: I really enjoyed Roxen's selection last year - small but quite diverse, and I felt the best song won. My change would be to have seen a similar national final with 3 or 4 other songs of hers this time, because I'm not convinced in Amnesia anywhere near as much as I was of Alcohol you.

🇦🇿 Azerbaijan: I wish they had gone with something at least a bit different rather than this cut, smudge and paste from last year that is so on the nose with its "you loved Cleopatra, so you will love this, won't you?" feel that it even namechecks the previous song. Efendi has a lot of talent and could have shown more diversity here.

🇺🇦 Ukraine: I'm getting used to the surprise revamp of Šum by now, but the question still remains for me, why did they do it? They needed to cut about a minute off the duration of the track, but to me, that doesn't explain why they also had to change the melody in large parts of the song. I'd be tempted to revert to a shortened form version of Šum version 1.

🇲🇹 Malta: Another unpopular opinion, but I'm just not that into the Maltese song this year. The lyrics are great and Destiny has poise and presence and PIPES and I'm sure she'll do well, but the style - a glammed up Electro-Velvet, essentially - doesn't heat me up, and I feel like the different parts of the composition are too dissonant from each other, like we have 2 or 3 songs in one here. My change would be for her to have gone with something more soul-ish in its sound, like AOML was.

And the AQs of this semi

🇩🇪 Germany: How did juries decide upon this, especially when there seems to have been many promising artists in the German selection? No shade against Jendrick who seems like a lovely chap, but the song sounds like the cheerful four chords on a ukulele you hear repeated as royalty free background music on Youtube tutorials, merged with a post-chorus breakdown taken from a Stefan Raab b-side. I would have gotten out my phone book and given Lilly among clouds a call - she gives me the vibes of being able to create something totally show-stopping.

🇳🇱 Netherlands: My original slight disappointment at this was more because of how high I have Grow than any fault of its own. It's another gorgeous composition from Jeangu, with probably the best set of lyrics of the year, and this is going to be a moment. I change nothing.

🇮🇹 Italy: I like Måneskin and their performances at Sanremo were brilliant - but they were far from being at the top of my favourites list. I would have given the win to Madame with Voce, or Ermal with Un milione di cose da dirti. Both would have been my #1 of the entire year, both move me deeply. Madame showcases contemporary Italian style with classic songwriting, whilst Ermal almost created a companion piece to Fai rumore - Diodato wanted to hear the sound of his loved one, whilst Ermal struggles to make a noise and say what he feels about his love.

Join me soon as I take a look at SF2 and its songs (and France, Spain and the UK, the auto-qualifiers from that semi!)

[tsskyx]

Unmeta

You know what’s ridiculous? This post was originally supposed to be an essay, an entire thesis backed with unshakable logic that I wanted to become my magnum opus. But as it turns out, I’m pretty terrible at doing that sort of thing. The first day I’m full of enthusiasm, while the next day I reread what I wrote and I delete it all again. It’s terrible.

For this reason, I’ve decided to just start with the opinion part. Instead of laying out the facts and easing the reader into it, I’ll just blurt everything out in one go. Instead of neatly organizing everything, I’ll write my thoughts as they come to me.

(Update for 2/Oct/2021: I no longer remember when I made the first draft of this post. Maybe it was in 2018, maybe even as early as 2017. Who knows. This post existed in my drafts since forever. It is time to finally publish it. It contains very little information, very little evidence for anything or logic or facts, it’s just a one big opinion piece that I began writing years ago out of frustration. Frustration not aimed at the game itself, nor at Toby or anyone else, but at my inability to decouple the “meta” from Undertale and thus causing me to disassociate from the characters that I loved, when I didn’t plan to do so. All I ever wanted is to make sense of the Undertale world, instead of giving its inhabitants a meta-existential dread. In a nutshell, for the Undertale world to be self-contained, the 4th wall must stay intact, and the mechanics of the UT world mustn’t resemble a video game. That’s basically the gist of this post. Proceed with reading.)

You know Undertale meta? All the 4th wall breaking stuff and whatnot? The stuff that makes the game so awesome?

What about it you say?

It’s not real. I don’t think it is. It cannot be.

Tell me, has Undertale personally impacted you? Was it more than just a game to you? I know for a fact that for many people, it was much more than that. So tell me, is it fine by you that despite presenting itself in this way to us, it still sort of cops out of this at the very end? (By which I mean, when we learn that we aren’t Frisk. That we’re just someone controlling them.)

Some say that this cop-out, this act of “disassociation”, is necessary for our psychological journey to end. And I agree. We cannot dwell on this forever, else we lose our minds. But what I meant is something much more... materialistic.

Let’s take Oneshot, a game that’s arguably even more meta than Undertale. Oneshot embraces the 4th wall. It labels us a god. It portrays the game itself as an in-game machine. And yet, it feels real. Despite all this ridiculousness, the story feels real and possible. Kind of like The Matrix. Perhaps think of everyone in Oneshot except for the main character as a Matrix program, while Niko is the only user hooked up to it. It still feels real, because Niko is real, because there exists a real world they can to return to.

But Undertale floats somewhere between being real and being a fairy tale, a mere bedtime story. The reason is its lax handling of the 4th wall. Say, if Undertale were to be considered a “real” possibility, as in, entirely fictional, but still believable, kinda like The Matrix, kinda like any science fiction, or just fiction in general, what would it be like?

I’ll tell you, everything would have to be real, everything would have to look exactly how we see it. There’d need to be turns, there’d need to be save files, there’d need to be so many bizarre things, it probably wouldn’t take long before the NPCs themselves realized their own nonexistence, probably around the time they developed computers and video games. It’d be so similar, they’d have to be either stupid or under some kind of spell to not realize that their entire world is just one giant video game. Especially Flowey. Some say that he has already realized this, as his dialogue hints towards this. Which puts a super unfortunate spin on his condition. Furthermore, the entire game could be described through its Game Maker code. No need for laws of physics, just observe the if-else statements!

It would also mean that Frisk is controlled by a third unknown entity. If we were to take everything we do to Frisk at face value, it must all be them. Except... after a true reset, everything gets reset, even things about Frisk, such as them expecting the whoopee cushion prank. So... Frisk isn’t in control. But Chara isn’t either. Take for example the final fight against Asriel. Chara appeared pretty enthusiastic during it. What if someone were to reset the timeline during the fight? Either it wasn’t them who did so, or they were just pretending to be entertained, or perhaps they aren’t the narrator in the first place even.

No matter what, there will always be an instance where Frisk forgets, and where Chara doesn’t do something when they could have. Once you mess with the game enough, their personalities stop making sense.

This gradual breakdown of the narrative as I keep attacking the logic of it from every direction imaginable is a symptom of something far bigger. The fact that unlike The Matrix or Oneshot, there is no “real world” in this game. The virtual part of it is what the game is trying to make us focus on. It’s all there is. There is not even a hint of “another” world in the game, a world that wouldn’t be governed by these terrible rules. And even if there was one, even if you consider what Sans said to be that world, even if you considered Deltarune to be that world, there is still no guarantee that everything will be okay. What if the characters - your friends, aren’t real in this actual real world, what if they’re all just computer simulations? There’d have to be an entire population hooked up to a virtual reality for everyone to be “safe” as I’m putting it in this hypothetical real world, which sounds not only ridiculous, but like a direct ripoff of The Matrix.

The game has made Frisk the main character. Why, when making Sans the main one, the one who at least has a possibility of coming from a “real” real world, would be far more logical?

Because it lacks logic. Undertale is an experiment. Toby Fox is not a genius. He was just messing around, he didn’t think of literally every tiny little logical detail (contrary to what some individuals would like to think), he just explained enough for most of the story to make sense. But, no matter how you spin it, this fundamental flaw will always be there. The story tries to merge you and the protagonist, before disassociating you from them. Even if you always were disassociated from them, how can the in-game world be real, when other aspects of your reality weren’t disassociated yet? Where’s the disassociation for battles and turns, for save files and time travel, for stats and everything? How can Undertale claim to be complete, when it isn’t? ... Perhaps because it is not claiming to be. It’s an experiment after all. And I don’t mean “incomplete” as in a single update / new game can fix it. I mean the premise itself is already broken from the start. And while there are many fictional worlds which function on a similar level of meta, Undertale is the only one that appears to irk me mad. I don’t know why. Maybe I love the characters. Maybe I love them very much. Maybe I love them so much, that I wanna write a fan fiction about them. And maybe, just maybe, this tiny little issue is making this dream of mine impossible. Undertale is a story conveyed through game mechanics. Choosing any other medium breaks everything down and the author needs to invent their own rules. There’s simply no way around it. Unless someone has the balls to program a fan game of their own, there’s just no way to resolve this without adjusting the canon a little bit, to make it “a little bit more sensible” as some would put it. Just a small nudge, a lil’ nudgie wudgie to the canon mechanics AAAAAND we’re in fanon territory. Excellent, better go all out.

Here’s my head canon, my little “adjustment” of the canon rules. Thanks to it, I can once again think about Undertale as a real world, I no longer need to philosophize over the meta like I did above, I can all put it past me:

Saving, loading, resetting? Regular sci-fi time travel.

The save file? The parameters of the time machine.

LV and EXP? Another set of properties of the machine, though it could be properties of the soul too. I’m undecided on that note. But either works, that’s what’s important.

Chara destroying the world through LV? No, screw that, Chara merely tuned Frisk out. And the black void was the inside of their mind as Chara denied them access to their own body.

The intro? Literally never happened, no one “saw” it. (The past was still real. It’s just the intro that never existed.) The outro? Literally never physically occurred, Frisk wasn’t “stuck” on the ending credits, unable to go further, fuck that.

Flowey? No screw everything meta about Flowey, there exists a perfectly logical explanation to everything he says, and if not, such as in the genocide run with him hinting towards people watching but not acting... he never said that in the first place!

Same with turns, the battles don’t actually look that way, there are no turns, what Sans perceives and abuses as such is just an illusion, the actual battle against Sans is absolutely fluid. And him pausing at the end and not letting us go is him keeping his guard up, until falling asleep and giving us an opportunity to sneak near him and strike. We don’t need turns to explain it. And what he said about turns... just ignore it! Ignore everything that directly proves me wrong! Because resolving that fucking conundrum IS more important than being logically consistent, and you can’t change my mind on that. Screw logic when the foundation of the entire fandom, of every UT-related fiction, is at stake here.

And I shall call this philosophy... the Unmeta. Because it attempts to undo the meta. Hence, “unmeta” for short.

[txtdiaries]

Void - Chapter Two

SUMMARY | Amidst your world shattering to pieces, the boy you met long ago manages to fit everything back together again. Also - zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

PAIRING | Yeonjun X Reader feat. TXT

CATEGORY | apocalypse au, end of the world, survival, angst, romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

WORD COUNT | 2.8k

WARNINGS | dark content, swearing, gore, weapon possession, etc.

A/N | So this isn’t that long and I kinda don’t really like it but I hope some of you enjoy it at least. It also hasn’t rlly been proofread so uhhh we’ll see how that goes. Chapter 3 up soon!

SONG REC | Blood In The Cut (Aire Atlantica Remix) - K.Flay

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

The tension in the jeep is thick as the girl in the trunk compartment thrashes and screams, her legs jolting forward to kick at the seats ahead and hands struggling to pull apart her rope restraints. Her attempt falls flat due to the tight knots in the rope and the tape around her mouth, but she still tries.

It’s not an ideal situation – Yeonjun knows– but neither is being stuck in a different country with an empty tank of gas, so hey. Every man for themself, right?

He tries to ignore the feeling of guilt pooling at the bottom of his stomach as he glances down at the now full gas gauge that gleams back at him; instead, he eases onto the pedal below his boot. At least now they don’t have to worry about not making it to the next stop - because of this, the situation is that much more bearable.

Even though he feels like shit for wasting tape, rope, and time on the girl, he tries to keep telling himself that it’s not his fault. If anything, it’s hers. If she had just left them all alone in the first place, none of them would be stuck in this situation, and it would be a hell of a lot less awkward. Just as he is thinking this, he hears Soobin speak up from the back.

“This would be a lot easier if we couldn’t see or hear her, dude.” He is seated right next to the girl, and his hands are gripping onto her shoulders tightly to try and get her to stop moving. Although Soobin is definitely stronger than the girl, she still struggles. Yeonjun has to give her props for her perseverance. After a second, he focuses his gaze back in front of him and steers the jeep back onto the road; still not responding to his friend.

“You’re going to get tired if you keep doing that,” Soobin finally talks to the girl after a few more minutes of her annoying movements, voice low so he doesn’t bother anyone else in the car, “Stop moving so much. I won’t hurt you, you know.”

“Stop talking to her.” The eldest snaps from the front, irritated now because he can feel a headache coming on, but also because he doesn’t like Soobin being so close to her. He doesn’t know why, but something about it just bugs him. After a few more rounds of worrying about the fact that they practically kidnapped the girl – no, she did it to herself – he decides to just force himself to stop thinking about it. If he dwells on anything anymore, he knows for a fact that he will drive himself fucking insane.

He takes a deep breath and finally accelerates, pushing the speedometer to 85 before setting the cruise control. He takes an experimental glance in the rearview to “check to make sure there’s nothing behind them” but looks away when he sees what he was curious about the whole time.

The girl has given up on her struggling and lets out a defeated huff before slumping her body against Soobin’s. Yeonjun doesn’t let himself stare for long – he rips his gaze away from the two and focuses back on the road after a few seconds.

He feels it in his bones: It is going to be a very long drive.

After a few hours of his tunnel vision taking up most of his attention, Yeonjun finally decides that it is time to take a break. He feels the tension in his shoulders and arms when he slightly flexes them, and then sighs. A few miles back there was a sign signifying a rest stop, and Yeonjun feels a little more relaxed when it appears in the distance, slowly getting closer and closer.

“We’re going to stop for a break.” He announces, noticing that his words wake a few of the other passengers in the car. The eldest angles the wheel slightly, preparing to merge off the road so they can pull onto the off ramp and move toward the rest stop. From what he can see, the brick building is cracked and falling apart, but it is still standing.

Yeonjun glances in the rearview again – a habit he’s kept up from his years of driving (always check your mirrors before making any movement into another lane, especially on highways, his old driving instructor had taught him) - but he wishes he hadn’t, just this once. It’s not that he needs to anymore, given the end of the world and all, but it seems old habits die hard. More than anything, he wishes they wouldn’t.

Rested upon Soobin’s shoulder is the girl who’s name he still doesn’t know, eyes closed as she sleeps deeply. His best friend’s head is rested atop hers as well, and he’s gazing outside the window silently, letting her rest where she is. Yeonjun feels his stomach twist with jealousy, and he doesn’t know why he can’t stomp it down this time. Hell, he doesn’t even know why he’s feeling it. The whole thing makes him feel sick.

Soobin softly nudges the girl awake and whispers something to her, and Yeonjun takes this as his opportunity to focus on parking. He’d rather get decked in the throat than have to witness that again.

After he puts the jeep in park and everyone else piles out of the cramped car, Yeonjun pops the trunk and makes his way back to it to help the girl out.

“I’ve got it.” Soobin says once he realizes his friend’s intensions, arm already secured around her waist. Yeonjun shakes his head and awkwardly pries his hand off of her, the same hand wrapping around her wrist after, “It’s all good, you already had to deal with her sleeping on you. I’ll take her to the bathroom; you stay with the boys.”

“Hyung, I have to pee.” The youngest of the group says in a whiny voice, bouncing on the heels of his feet impatiently before giving him a desperate look. Yeonjun almost laughs.

“Okay, Soobin, take him to the men’s room. Tae, stay with Beom. You all know the drill. Five minutes tops and be back here on time.”

The boys all nod in agreement and the eldest is glad no one argues, not wasting anymore time before pulling the girl gently along with him toward the vacant, disheveled building.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom?” He asks her softly once they have turned around the brick wall leading to the bathrooms and separating them from the other boys. He angles his head down as he speaks to her, trying to get a better look. She shakes her head and tries to speak, but she can’t, given the tape covering her lips. The blue-haired boys leads her through the doorway into the bathroom he is sure she finds equally as disgusting as he does, and looks at her again. He doesn’t have to say anything, he just gives her a look to stay put as he carefully checks each individual stall in the room, and then finally makes his way back over once he knows they are alone.

“I’m going to take the tape off of your mouth and untie you, but please don’t try running. I promise, the most it’ll get you is a zombie bite to the body or another one of my friends catching you. Just stay, alright?”

The girl sighs and nods at him. He hesitates before biting his lip and nodding back, squatting easily to remove the restraints around her ankles. After he’s done, he undoes the ones around her wrists, and finally, stands to his full height to study her face.

The boy can feel his heart beating in his chest as he carefully pinches the corner of the tape in-between his pointer digit and thumb, and he winces with the girl as he tries to pull it off of her as gently as possible. He notices the slight whine that leaves her lips when he rips off the final part, and he’s only just looked up into her eyes for about a second before her voice is echoing loudly against the bathroom walls.

“You absolute fucking dickhead!”

Yeonjun takes an instinctive step back before standing up straight, her outburst truthfully startling him.

“I-“

“Don’t talk!” She snaps, still continuing her outburst. Yeonjun’s blood runs cold.

“I don’t even know where to start. First you steal my gas, and then you kidnap me, and then you have the fucking audacity to ask me if I have to go to the bathroom in this disgusting rest stop? Oh my god-” She runs her hands through her hair and groans loudly, tilting her head back up toward Yeonjun before glaring, “What is wrong with you!? Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?”

Truthfully, the blue-haired boy doesn’t know what to say to the girl. She’s livid, that’s fucking obvious, but even more so, she looks terrified. Yeonjun feels the guilt now, it’s full force and clawing its way up through his throat. If he could apologize in a way he knew she’d accept, he would.

“You didn’t exactly give me any choice.” He says to the girl, voice as soft as possible, scared he’ll piss her off even more if he raises it. It seems it doesn’t really matter anyway, because she is still fuming with anger when she speaks again.

“That is bullshit!” Her voice is so loud, Yeonjun is scared that the boys outside might hear it.

“I really think you should-” She cuts him off.

“Don’t tell me what to do! How idiotic can someone be!?”

“Listen, I really think you might want to-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to-!”

She freezes when she sees the absolute look of horror on Yeonjun’s face.

She turns toward the entrance where he is looking and she feels fear run through her veins.

A zombie, skin rotting and insides hanging halfway out of its stomach turns the corner of the wall, separating the two of them from it, as it limps slowly and curiously toward the bathroom entrance.

The girl can barely react before Yeonjun is grabbing her arm and dragging her to the left, into one of the small, cramped stalls before he locks it behind them.

The girl meets his eyes as his hand clamps down over her mouth. She wants to cry, and he wants to scream, because they both realize the same thing in the exact same moment; Yeonjun forgot his fucking baseball bat.

It is deadly quiet in the bathroom when they hear the heavy, unnatural footsteps echo on the tile, and Yeonjun has to keep telling himself that it is fine. That they won’t die in this gross bathroom because he’s an idiot who got distracted, and that they won’t be zombie dinner in the next couple of seconds because his priorities lied in the girl instead of in his weapon. His fear suddenly turns to anger when the girl rips his hand away from her mouth and leans up to speak into his ear, voice so low Yeonjun has to hold his breath to hear it.

“This is your fault, asshole.”

“How is this my fault? I’m not the one who was screaming so loud Utah could hear it!” He whisper-shouts in the same manner, using the knowledge of the map he had studied earlier to make his point. He’s blaming her, but he knows the fault isn’t just on her. It’s on the both of them. 

The girl rolls her eyes, but before she can reply, a low, guttural growl echoes out through the bathroom.

 The noise sends her curling into Yeonjun’s chest, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. She’s scared, he suddenly realizes. The girl with the tempter and killer attitude is scared, and it’s his fault.

“Hey…” He suddenly says to her, his anger melting away almost like water running down a tap, voice softening around the edges as he leans in closer to the girl. His guilt from earlier increases tenfold.

“It’s going to be fine...” He says to her quietly, slowly and silently sinking their bodies down to the ground with the girl still against him. He knows if he can see under the gap in the stall door, he can time their escape. All he has to do is wait until the undead figure’s body is in the right position.

“Now’s not the time to make a move.” The girl whispers sarcastically, voice shaking even though she’s trying to sound tough. Yeonjun rests a hand on her hair comfortingly, even though all he really needs her to do is stop talking.

“I’m serious, I know you’re tall and have cool hair and all that, but don’t think that’s grounds for-“

“Shut up.” The boy growls into her ear, voice as low as she’s ever heard it thus far, causing her mouth to snap shut instantly. She hates that she found that hot.

The two are silent again, waiting for the footsteps to do anything but come closer. It is only once the girl repositions awkwardly, does Yeonjun realize how close she really is. Her entire front is pressed up against his, with her leg even thrown over his hip as she sits awkwardly, and he can’t move. He wants to clear his throat, do anything to relieve the tension he is feeling, but he can’t.

He can’t move, until the footsteps suddenly stop.

He’s only just made eye contact with the girl wrapped up around him before a loud, deafening bang causes the stall door to concave in momentarily, the lock barely holding it closed. It rings in their ears as another growl emits from the zombie, and then Yeonjun feels his body spring into action. He quickly removes the bandana tied securely around his wrist and flings it under the stall, as far away from the two of them as possible.

The screaming figure launches itself toward the movement, and Yeonjun pushes them both up, flicking the lock before realizing he is carrying the girl around his waist and halfway in his arms. He doesn’t have time to do anything except run as fast as he can out of the bathroom, both him and the girl in his arms breathing heavily in fear as they escape. At this point, he can’t tell if the zombie is screaming or if he is.

Once they’re outside the bathroom, he drops the girl onto both legs and they race to the Jeep, Yeonjun only speaking after they’re close enough, and his members can hear him. He knows the figure is on their heels just by the smell.

“BEOMGYU. BAT, NOW.”

Yeonjun doesn’t have to clarify as his friend’s eyes go wide and he sees the chaos happening before him. Two running figures and a rotting dead corpse following close behind, so enraged it looks like it might kill all of them if it got the chance. He doesn’t hesitate.

Beomgyu quickly pulls the blue-haired boy’s bat from between the seats and under-hands it toward him. Yeonjun catches it skillfully before spinning his body in its tracks, launching forward before the hard aluminum comes in contact with the zombie’s face, its scream muffled once the blow impacts its frontal skull.

Yeonjun doesn’t have to put as much force into flooring the body as he does, but he just chalks it up to anger and irritation. Finally, once the dust settles and his hands stop shaking, Yeonjun is left panting heavily. It was close. Far too close for his comfort.

Everyone is silent, until the girl speaks again.

“Are you… uh-“

She doesn’t know how to word any of this, and she can see just how stressed out the boy is. She feels like it’s her fault – she knows it is – and now it’s her turn to feel guilty.

“Two hundred six.” Yeonjun says lowly, his voice almost lost in the wind as he drops the top of the bat onto the dirt and keeps hold of the handle. He takes another deep breath before turning and walking slowly back to the car, weapon dragging behind him.

“I’m-“

He doesn’t stop to listen to what the girl has to say, only walks past her silently before making his way back into the driver’s seat. The rest of the boys are silent as they follow suit. They all ignore the girl, until she finally speaks up again.

“Hey, uh… Beomgyu?” She’s talking to the blonde who opens the passenger side door, only looking at her out of surprise when he realizes she’s talking to him. She doesn’t know how good her excuse will be, but she knows she has to apologize to the eldest boy, and there is only one way to do it.

“I almost got mauled by a zombie, I think I deserve shot gun.”

[johobi]

Eating for Two

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, near-fisting, dry humping, some slight pregnancy kink/impreg kink going on, lots of dirty talk, i’m gonna put a tw here for dysphoric folks bc there are a couple sentences in there that might be triggering, reader gets jilled off, i based it on a video lol, very graphic sexual description

A/N: this was the 3rd of 4 drabble winners during my drabble request game! I hope anon and everyone else enjoys it!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969732

He’ll have a Large.

"Hoseokie! What are you doing down there? Hurry up! I'm gonna die!"

It's an exaggeration, of course, but Hoseok isn't going to question the validity of your outburst. Not when you're 8 months crazy with rollercoastering pregnancy hormones. Not when you're - so graciously - carrying to term his twin girls and all the strain that comes with. The aching back, the ballooning ankles, the waning stamina. You do all this with the most radiant - if weary - of smiles, and Hoseok is reminded, again and again, that he has been gifted not twice, but three times. He is but an unworthy devotee to your Goddess of Fertility.

And his Goddess is horny as fuck.

"I know, baby," Hoseok coos across your rotund belly. Head between your bent legs, he can see nothing beyond but the mass he enthusiastically helped create. And though he can't see your face, he feels your predicament through your laboured gasping. Sees it as it saturates the crotch of your cotton panties. "You really are incredibly wet. Like, this fast? This is a new record."

"Shut up and do something, Hoseok!" you hiss, exasperating with your toes like you're in the throes of childbirth. "I swear. I swear to fucking Christ I'll die if you don't."

"Well, we can't have that." Your cussing flicks some sordid switch in him. It’s not often you resort to swears. And in this context, Hoseok finds it oddly thrilling. “Let’s see what we have here.” 

Thumbs sinking deep into your fleshy inner thighs, he needs only assert the lightest of pressure before you’re spreading. You're so receptive, so desperate, that he too is being roused. He's already pressing snugly to the crotch of his jeans. But it's not about him right now, it's about you. His obligation as your eager husband. And while he feels duty-bound to relieve you, it's hardly some chore. Not when he's nose-and-cheek-deep in your sodden panties, huffing in your heavy musk. Fuck. His cock stirs, sensing a meal. Shit. You're mewling like a tormented whore with the merest of touches. "Are you aching, sweetheart?" Hoseok allows himself that small tease because you’re already warping his purest intentions to relieve you. His dick also wants a stake, now. "I bet you're gaping, huh. Bet I could slide right in."

"God—" you hiss, the soft thud of fist to cushion coming from beyond your mountainous stomach. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm so fucking ready. I need it so badly, Hoseokie, don't make me wait. I'll cry. I will."

"You don't need to cry, baby." You've already done so once this past hour, during S03E02 of Stranger Things. 

It had been vaguely alarming. Enough that Hoseok had dropped instantly to his knees, hands scanning your body for the source of your discomfort. The location of your hospital bag was thrust to the forefront of his mind, as were emergency birthing measures.  He’d been primed for action. “Is it time?!” 

After some coaxing, however, you attributed your outburst to sudden, severe arousal. “It’s so weird!” you’d repeated between sobs. “It’s like someone’s been edging me all day!” 

“You’re crying because you’re horny?” Admittedly, Hoseok had been a tinge sceptical of this revelation, thinking it some silly prank. But when you clutched at his hands like climbing holds, a hollow, hungry fear brewing in your eyes, he soon realised your sincerity. 

Hormones were wild.

And here he is now, tonguing beyond the elastic of your panties for a taste of your pooling essence. For each of your agonised whines he steeps his fingers deeper into your thighs to ground you. Selfishly, too. Because, God, you're like proven dough in his hands. Softer for your weight gain. You hate it, but he doesn't. Can't do when you're so fucking silky and supple. Hoseok's senses are momentarily swamped as he loses himself in you. A desirous moan spills from him: "You're so fucking sexy." The praise is muffled in cotton and your slickened skin. "Can I eat you?"

"Yes. Yes you can," you pant, writhe, quiver at the knees. "I'm gonna be so quick. I can feel it. I've never felt like this. I'm, like, super-charged." Your voice is thicker for the lust. Difficult to swallow. "Get me off so we can keep watching Stranger Things."

That last bit was likely meant to placate Hoseok, but he no longer gives a flying fuck about the Netflix binge. All his interest lies in the centre of your sticky, sopping core as he peels aside your panties and appreciates its beauty. So deep and warm, he thinks, or his cock does, clouding his priorities. 

No, priority number one is you. 

You and your tight, hot, wet, pleading cunt. 

Goddamnit. 

"Jesus. You're so swollen." And you are, remarkably so. Your lips are plump and begging to be kissed. But what begs his attention is just how erect - yes, erect - you are. Your clit protrudes so far from its sheathe that Hoseok is taken with the sight. "Are you in pain?" He has to ask.

"No, I just want my fucking! God," you squirm for alleviation, pressing closed your thighs around his head. "Put your fingers in. Fill me."

And why should he deny you? There's no fun to be had in prolonging your suffering today. Your plea is too heartfelt. So he extends two fingers toward your opening, himself tensing when he watches it mouth desperately around the tips. He feels it. Feels it like a phantom around his cockhead, engulfing him whole. His hips thrust into your imagined heat and feel only the stifle of denim. “You’re driving me crazy. Why are you so sloppy?”

“Ah~” Is all the answer you give.

Hoseok breaches you ever so smooth. Without a whisper of resistance. You're flooded and gaping, like you've already had your overfill of dick today. It does things to him that can't be explained. It is his body, instead, that expresses itself; his pelvis driving a hungry, stuttered rhythm into the sofa cushion, dreaming of your warm and wet. "Do you need more, ____?" It’s a question that begs no answer. You whimper your assent, yes, but your clenching cunt is what truly conveys the extent of your need.

A third finger slips seamlessly between your messy folds, merging with the two already lodged deep. Hoseok gnaws his bottom lip to keep his headiness at the fringes, because this isn’t about him. 

It’s about you.

But, oh, there's nothing he wants more than to delve his pulsing inches as far into you as they’ll go. And there's nothing less he wants than to scour his cock into a joyless orgasm in the crotch of his jeans. And yet, right now, as you stir him into an impassioned frenzy, even the latter option seems irresistible. 

No. Nope. Focus, he chides himself not for the first time, and it’s with that he recentres himself. "Let me know how it feels, sweetheart," Hoseok mumbles from cunt-slickened lips, puffing breath over your protruding clit. He knows it hits warm and welcome, because that, too, elicits moaning. "Your clit is huge. It's so fucking hot. I'm gonna suck you 'til you come all over my fingers." 

Before you're given your chance to respond, Hoseok scoops at your soft, upper walls. Presses into the place you're spongiest. You're so incredibly lubricated that it wouldn't take much to work in his entire fist. God. His balls heave in his boxer shorts, vying for the idea. But you're doing well with the fullness of three; your frantically bucking hips say so. Hoseok doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Instead, he fingers your cunt with a practiced fury, his palm slapping at your mound like the rim of a drum.

The reverberation is undoing you. "F-Fuck, I'm almost there already. Sh-Shit— " Hoseok feels it in the building pulse of your pussy; sees it in your spastically splaying toes.

It shocks him. A usual session requires extensive clitplay before you can get anywhere close. "Already?" As tempted as he is to slow, to spend hours labouring over your juicy cunt, that time is not now. "I knew it wouldn't take much. You're such a good, filthy little slut," he encourages, knowing well that dirty words are as potent as dirtied fingers. "You wish I was fucking you with my fat cock, don't you, sweetheart?" Your ragged, resultant moan confirms it. Hoseok ploughs your hole with one hand and encircles your clit with the other, index and thumb playing gently around its base. 

You convulse. 

From the glimpse he steals of your contorted face, your soul looks fit to leave you. "I bet you'd stretch so fucking well around two cocks, ugh—" Hoseok's game falters somewhat when you contract violently around his fingers. The strength with which your cunt resists him does nothing but encourage his cock to leak. His boxers become uncomfortably tacky.

"Y-Yeah, I wanna be fucked by two cocks—"

"Two monster cocks. So big they can barely fit. God, they'd fill you so fucking good." He's focused on your reddening clit, dragging the hood along its considerable length. "Fill you full with cum. You nasty little cumslut. Jesus." Your panicked, breathless caterwauling mounts. "Look at your clit. I'm practically jerking you off, you dirty girl." And then he groans, because he feels it in tandem; the drag and draw of friction. The coiling of pleasure.

"I-I'm c—" Your mouth merely hangs open. The rest of you tenses, curls every which way. And your cunt, fuck, it tries so hard to eject him from you, crushing his fingers in its narrowing passage. “—coming.”

And - shit - so is Hoseok. He grunts, propels his pelvis into the sofa with the same enthusiasm he's ruining you with, and then the front of his pants fill, warm and sticky. "Nngh—sh-shit. ____..."

Goddamnit. That wasn't the priority.

By some luck, you're still far-flung from reality, undulating like a boneless thing against his embedded fingers. You don’t register his lapse of control. Your eyelids are sealed, mouth whispering obscenities. Hoseok catches a thready plea for more, but he's already in motion - he never really stopped - stuffing and emptying your swollen pussy. A little slower, now, while you ride out your high. “This good?”

“Mmm.” Sounds positive.

Fuck. Your cunt is audible. It slurps him in with the lewdest noises. You really are a marvel of nature. He's wary of touching your clit just yet, though. It’s painfully engorged and jumps at the faintest touch. So would his cock if it weren't appallingly flaccid and glued to his boxers. "I'm kinda worried you're gonna pop the twins out if I keep going," Hoseok only half-jokes, head clearer for having come. His arousal’s down to a mild simmer. Your own is still in full flow, however, and nothing brings him to boil quicker. "How much of a good thing is too much?"

"No, more. Please." The soft soles of your feet curve over his shoulders, coaxing him where your hands can't reach. "Please, Hoseokie. Just one more." You're desperate but not as, trembling like you're hypoglycaemic.

"Okay, babe," he settles you, though he never intended to refuse anyway. Hoseok just enjoys the sound of your voice on his ears, needy and suppliant. His head drops low, right into the musk of your wet sex, ready to wield his willing mouth. "Let's fuck you 'til you're nice and sleepy." You don't sleep well these days. Nights. The burden is too big.

Hoseok’s only sampled you thus far. So it's with the hollowness of a hungry man that he parts his lips and encompasses your labia. Suckles, noisily, on the the stuff oozing from you. 

Perhaps it's the pregnancy. 

Perhaps it's his mind's own trickery. 

But the bigger you get, the sultrier you are. The tastier your cunt. 

And it's his. 

It belongs to him. 

As you do, jammed full with his child as you are. 

Hoseok isn't inclined to possessiveness, he really isn’t. But when you're spread, stretched, and growing his progeny so visibly, he wants nothing more than to mark you with ropes of steaming cum. Streak your belly with the signature of ownership.

But that's just his dick talking. Again. Growing, despite its sensitivity, in the gummy mess at his groin.

It's you that owns him. Heart and soul and the bones in between.

"God yes, god yes, god yes—" Your weak exclamations filter over your heaving bump. "Put your tongue in me."

Hoseok does. Seeks the space by his fingers and worms his tongue in, too. Saliva and spunk drool from the corners of his mouth as he makes out with your pussy. His wrist burns with fatigue but he never once misses a beat in his rhythmic pumping. By the bane of his own nature he finds himself humping in sync, despite the soreness of his rubbed-raw cock. It hurts, it’s too much, and yet he kinda likes it, kinda revels in the ambiguity. The pleasure is an undercurrent that’s growing stronger. 

“Harder. Harder—I need it, please—” you whine, pitifully. 

Hoseok hears you.

Again and again, he strikes at your g-spot. It’s punishing and unerring, because you like the consistency. Again and again, he mimics the movement with his hips, raw from the friction but compelled by the need. You're already getting too tight for what's in you and he knows you're nearly there. Your breaths comes less as breath and more as a wheeze. His name tumbles endlessly from your lips and, God, he's not ready for it to stop. But the rumblings of your climax are already beginning, the groan already building. Hoseok groans, too, railing the pillow between his knees as he wishes he could your greedy cunt. It’s with wild abandon he thrusts his cock into the mess of its own making, relishing the debauchery of it all. 

“Mmmmfhh—baby.” Further, indistinct sounds of enjoyment escape him. You respond in kind.

Hoseok’s discomfort diminishes entirely as he nears, and is instead possessed by absolute lust. His nose and mouth dig deeper for your sweet scent and sweeter slick; diligent tongue lapping clean all that it touches. And then he’s dragging in breath, venturing upwards, and encompassing your clit with the gentlest of lips. Ripping from you the most violent of reactions. “Ah—God— Hoseok!”

You convulse, pulse, smother him with your thighs, deafening him to your sobbing. All Hoseok can hear is the rush of his own blood as it surges for his cock. "____, baby, f-fuck." Everything's muffled. All he sees is your ruined cunt and then all he sees is white.  It floods his vision. Floods  his pants. It's weaker this time and yet not, like you're draining his balls entirely, and his cognizance with it.

When he sits back, Hoseok is dumb.

You are, too, by your inability to shape your mouth around any coherent word. "Uh."

He agrees. "Yeah."

Something comes over him then, as he admires your sweat-streaked face. 

A realisation. An important one. 

And the panic sets in. 

It's been too long since he last looked upon that face. Fifteen whole minutes. He dives past your knocking knees and situates himself over you, elbows settling carefully either side your head. "I love you," he professes as sincerely as he has every time since the first. "I love you so much." Hoseok's mouth presses ardently to yours, still fresh with the dew of your sex. His tongue falls into your parting lips when you mumble your reciprocation.

It's after a few, giddy seconds that you push at him. "I need to breathe, Hoseokie. I'm spent."

Hoseok is, too, but he's dumb enough in love to disregard the oxygen and suffocate. "Good. You look tired. Do you feel better?" He runs a finger over the curve of your cheek. Swims in your sated eyes.

"So much better. So—" On cue, a yawn. "So tired. Oh, but—" Suddenly, you're roused again. "Let me finish you off. You must be h—"

With a certain comedic synchrony, both sets of eyes land on Hoseok's incredibly soggy crotch. There's not an erection in sight. "Yeah, I don't think you need to worry about that."

"Oh my God, did you come in your pants? You haven't done that since we first started dating," you snicker, though he knows it's no taunt. Not when— "That got me so turned on when you did that back then. Damn, I wish you'd let me know!"

Despite your enjoying it, Hoseok finds himself bashful. "Yeah, well—I wasn't really subtle about it, but you didn't notice." Suddenly, a smirk. "You were a bit too tied up."

You gaze melancholically into mid-distance. "I miss being tied up."

"After the kids get here." Hoseok heaves himself from the sofa on noodley legs. "You gonna nap?"

"Yeah. Right here." You're already wriggling into a more pleasing position. A contented smile splits your face. "Thanks, love. What are you gonna do?"

"Uh, well—" Hoseok gestures toward his lower half and you giggle into your throw. "I better clean myself up. I'll clean you up, too. Don't move an inch."

Your eyes track Hoseok's journey across the room. "I love being waited on hand and foot. Maybe I should stay heavily pregnant forever?"

"Yeah, maybe," he chuckles. Blows away his bangs as he kneels between your legs, towel in hand. "It's not very often I can come twice like that. In that space of time, at least."

Obscured, again, by your sizeable stomach, Hoseok can only hear you exclaim. "Twice?! You came in your pants twice?!"

[kuronekonerochan]

The laziest compilation of thoughts about the mess that was Alice (spoilers)

I finish a lot of shitty dramas. Like a lot. I could review them, but I won’t bc there’s too many and I’m too lazy (when you ff some dramas from 45min to 5 per episode it doesn’t really count as watching too many dramas bc it’s really a commercial break, lol). Some I watch for the so bad it’s good content, or love hate watching or just to have something to watch while I eat, even if they’re boring af. It’s also a tiny bit of ocd bc I need to see how they end (even the ones I drop I check out the finale). I only drop the ones that as Marie Kondo says *Do Not Spark Joy, more specifically...annoy me and make me cranky.

I sometimes bitch about it on DMs with ranty spoilers without structure and that reference other unrelated dramas or shows, because ADHD and my mind refuses to stay on topic, which would make it probably unintelligible except if you are in the niche who happens to have watched the other unrelated dramas, so it’s probably useless as a review.

That said, here are some random disconnected thoughts about Alice.

MAJOR SPOILER ALERTS BEWARE

(this is like partly copypaste of DM rants bc I am that lazy biatch. Also, fair warning I will seem super harsh or this drama because that’s the thing about a bitching dm versus a proper review... I am not bringing up all the points and talking about the good and what I liked as well as the bad, it’s just the bad...and although the drama is imo a mess, it does have some good in it. So if it were a review I’d always argue pros and cons...ranty thoughs who cares about pros? boring..I will not be bothered with devil’s advocate).

This was fascinating to watch, interesting but not good... but like a trainwreck.

I continued watching this mess despite the headache inducing convoluted plot (I watched a lot of timetravel stuff and I love it...encompassing all the theories about it, from butterfly effect, to effectively changing the future (with characters forgetting it or keeping it in memory because “eye of the storm” theory, the “efforts are futile and you can try to change it but the future is set in stone”, to “small changes can be made but big events are fixed points in time”, to “every change creates a new time line” and multiverse, etc... and trust me, all of them can be done well when well written or turn out a confusing illogical mess and that has nothing to do with the theory chosen, but with presenting how time travel works for that story and what the basic rules are and sticking to them...or when something happens that contradicts them, come up with an explanation as to why that happens.

 I don’t mean the drama should be an exposition borefest with too much pseudosciency jargon...but this drama gives you too little in the way of rules and the viewers sort of figure out how timetravel works (which is not bad per se, huge fan of show don’t tell...but there’s a limit to how much they cannot tell or the characters chose not to ask just for the sake of plot and not without any logic to it). Anyways, the little “rules” that we gather along the way...the writing doesn’t stick to them and keeps contradicting itself without addressing or explaining it and hoping we’re so confused we don’t notice. Some dramas you just say “eh, forget it, it doesn’t make sense, let’s turn off our brains and enjoy it”, but here if I wanted to try and follow what was going on at all it required “brain on” mode for their convoluted plot twists...which also made me aware of so may plotholes the time road should have looked like Swiss Cheese. I could go into them...but I cannot be bothered and the list would be extensive and still incomplete, so I will just put 3 here bc I can’t help it:

 1) Hot Daddy with emotional turmoil the entire drama of “Oh no, I abandoned her in 92 and regretted it, it happened 1 year ago for me, and now I find out she died in 2010. How was she, did she suffer? What did she know? Oh god, if only I were a time traveler eventually going rogue who could show up and talk to her any time in the timeline between 92 and 2010...Alas, I have to live in misery with the consequences of my actions...there is just ABSOLUTELY no way of solving this. I guess I’ll just keep making unauthorized time travel journeys from 2050′s time agency back to the year of 2020 and only 2020 to constantly be blindsided by murder attempts on everyone everywhere without having a clue to what’s going on when I could simply go back to before 2010 and talk to the one person who is proven to know what is going on.” Here is where there could be a bullshit reason as to why he could go only go to 2020 and not before, but the drama didn’t even bother.

 2) They say Tae Yi’s mom was originally a time traveler who settled with her physicist dad in the past, eventually making way for her to discover time travel herself. The mom is missing and this is never addressed again. 

3) The book...who wrote it? Because I have guesses but they never outright answer it... and if the biatch author knew that stuff why the alice in wonderland stupid analogies?

 Coward, or petty, or both.... or maybe just a chaos gremlin godlike entity who wanted to watch them all squirm, like the author from Extraordinary You...and that I could get behind, but sadly they don’t go that metaphysical/theological with the plot...which is honestly the main problem with this drama. It seems ambitious in concept but it’s never explored decently in any way, not in the pseudoscience, not in the philosophical sense of the meaning of time/space/existence, not even in its relationships, with the constant back and forth and weirdness of it.

Besides the timetravel migraine, we had the weirdest directing, that made the relationship between the leads feel a bit too incesty...which was the main reason I kept watching this drama...morbid curiosity of how they wrapped up this mess of a plot AND especially the relationship payoff...would it keep being weird with trope romance drama scenes like the female lead and second female lead facing off and being jealous, or that weird hair washing that felt more sensual than maternal? I knew it wouldn’t happen but my inner chaos gremlin wanted kdramaland to grow some balls and go full “predestination: oedipus edition” with this mess. Alas they sort of did, mostly didn’t. Even that angle was a whole inconsistent mess: there were times where it felt too romantic, then for a short minute I misguidedly shipped the journalist friend, then it seemed the dude was ace, then they calmed their tits with the whole weird romantic vibes and it got platonic cute, then with the memory merge thing finally motherly vibes, then I shipped the journalist again for 1 sec only...and then the ending:

Alice ended with the lead solving every problem by shooting himself (technically) in the head...and that's the second meta perfectly fitting ending for a drama with a good cast and terrible writing that drove itself into a corner this year, after the sleepless princess ended with the leads jumping off a cliff. I don't think it's a self aware choice of the writers, or an admission that they themselves know it was bad, but the irony is delicious.

Spoiler for the ending: he undoes timey wimey stuff from when his mom first got killed in high school and closed the time travel door. So he became an architect and new Tae Yi just woke up in her bed remembering everything, but in reality she had just come back from a conference abroad and had never met him. So mom TaeYi didn't die then, but never got back on screen after the time undo so who the f knows what happened to her. 

Also, if new Tae Yi remembers, does that mean hot daddy from the future does as well, but he is just stuck in the future without a time door to ever see them again? The drama doesn’t care answering that and forgets his character is even a thing...I will miss you, my fave who looked emotionally and literally constipated 24/7 (it doesn’t care answering much at all tbf... a little known fact about the time travel paradoxes according to the physics of this world is that besides doppelganger chickenpox it induces severe lazy writing).

Anyways new Tae Yi went looking for architect (? okay...I guess) ML after she woke up, at first he didn't remember her, but it ends with him meeting her, apparently remembering her and they stare at each other... you know, like any bad traditional romantic kdrama finale....so there is still THAT vibe. 

Honestly, the usual romantic ballad score for scenes between the leads WAS NOT the most intelligent choice for this drama in specific but boy did they stick with it (not to mention the ending song... that goes, in english “we be like Bonnie and Clyde we ride or die...which...k, sure)...so technically the ending was exactly the cliche post amnesia running back to each other and staring for the final scene while romantic music blasts trope. Take it as you will.

[yikesharringrove]

How about a continuation of the MafiaAU where most people just see Steve as Billy's arm candy, his weakness but he is really the more ruthless of the two or the power behind the throne? Like Steve has been learning the business his whole life and takes advantage of the way people talk more freely around him because they see him as too dumb to understand. Billy gets it though and loves his pretty little viper.

So in my little brain, the mafia au was modern, but I don’t think i ever specified that, so yee.

More murder boyfriends, some fucking, this is also totally based on that quote from My Big Fat Greek Wedding where the mom says something like “The man may be the head, but the woman is the neck and can turn him any which way she likes.”

They also fully use torture (of another person) as foreplay.

Under the cut.

Read on ao3

When Billy and Steve got married, they merged their power completely.

Billy was the de facto head of their new combined assets, the cities the Harringtons had control of, as well as the front businesses, and of course, the Chicago branch that Billy owned.

Billy gave Steve many wedding presents, would shower him with clothes and trinkets, ornate knives and guns. But he surprised him, on their wedding knight with one perfect one.

“Bill, you shouldn’t have.”

Steve’s father was bound and gagged, tied to a chair in a warehouse on the edge of the city, close to the docks of Lake Michigan, ready for the body to be dumped.

“Wanted to get you something special, Kitten.” Billy was running his fingers along his tools, the knives and saws he used for his art. Steve was pressed against his back, peppering kisses to his neck, eyes dark and trained on his father. “You wanna help, or just wanna watch.”

“I think I’ll watch, for now. Wouldn’t mind finishing him off, though.” Billy turned around, connecting their mouths, one hand roughly holding the back of Steve’s head, the other holding a sharp knife.

They spent the whole night in the warehouse, Billy carving patterns into Mr. Harrington’s flesh, Steve whispering to him all the reasons he deserved it, the way he peddled his own son to make his connections, how the Harrington name was built on Steve’s body.

It was a slow death, Steve only dealt the final blow as the sun was threatening to rise. They walked to the car, bloody hands intertwined as they let their men deal with the body, dispose of the evidence.

The next day was spent making love, slowly, passionately, as their own free agents, neither of them having to answer to anyone, wanting to answer to each other.

When Steve’s father was the head of the Harrington estate, he would often talk loudly and freely about how disappointing his son is. He would call him an idiot, a good for nothing child. Would say the only thing he was good for was being bent over. Would send him city to city to let potential allies do just that. He would give him to his henchmen, the cronies he sent out on runs and jobs, would let them have him for a night as a treat.

But Steve let this happen.

He wanted everyone to think he was dumb, because that was his access. People did a lot of talking around him, always figured he didn’t understand the codes they used. He would steal documents off of desks when the man who owned it would be too busy to notice him slip it into his discarded pants. He knew everything about everyone, and Billy Hargrove was the first person to see that.

After their marriage, after the Harrington-Hargrove mob was created, was built, Billy was only more feared.

He had extreme power, and has used dirty tricks to get it. But Steve, not many people gave a second thought to Steve. He was the beautiful arm candy. Always had been, so why wouldn’t that be his role here?

Many thought Billy had only married him to gain the Harrington power, some decided Steve was being held against his will. Some figured it was all a front, an arrangement for Billy to get more power, and they wanted little to do with one another.

The people who said that, almost always wound up dead.

Steve would be an integral part to every meeting Billy had. He would come in, would perch on the arm of Billy’s chair, and would say very little. He would give tittering laughs and throw love-struck looks to Billy.

But when everyone cleared out, he would give Billy everything he knew.

Steve was always in tune with any gossip. He knew people, and never forgot a face. He would tell Billy which men were trustworthy, who was waiting to double cross them. He would point out who had hit on him, and who he had to let fuck him before they were partnered.

Billy always took Steve with him when he was eliminating these men. He wanted them to know exactly who had condemned them, told them they had underestimated Steve in a big way, always let Steve take the kill shot.

Billy is seen to have all the power, but Steve calls the shots, standing behind him, whispering in his ear.

Billy was the first to know about the Bonanno family’s plans to kill Billy. Had heard a few Bonanno lap dogs talking about it as he made his way to Billy’s office, had heard them say Hargrove won’t fuckin’ know what hit him and once he’s out of the way, I’m takin’ that pretty little piece of ass for myself.

He had fluttered his eyelashes as he passe, offered them a simpering good morning and entered Billy’s office.

He leaned down to Billy, pretended to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Four attack dogs, waiting for signal to ambush.” He groped for the gun Billy kept under his jacket the silencer screwed on tight. He  whipped around and shot the head of the Bonanno family, one bullet, right between the eyes.

“Good shot, Princess.” Billy admired his handiwork, always so proud. He directed his own lap dogs to take care of the four in the hallway. They were brought into the office, hands cuffed behind their backs, guns pressed to their temples.

“Heard them say when their boss came out, they were gonna run in here, gonna take you out. Steve stood in front of one, let his fingers drift over his jaw. “This one said he was gonna take me for himself.” He kneeled in front of him, one hand gripped roughly in his hair. “Go ahead, tell my husband what you said. I’m sure he wants to know.”

The man’s eyes were panicked, shifting between Steve’s sweet smile and Billy, leaning against the desk, gun held lazily in his hand.

“Please, share what exactly you said.” Billy’s grin was viscous.

“I, uh, said I’d take him for, for myself.” Steve tutted.

“Pretty sure there was more you said.” Steve stood back up, moving to Billy, giving him his best doe eyes. “He said I was a pretty little piece of ass. Said I’m probably real tight. Said he’d love to,” he took a breath, one finger curling in Billy’s belt loop. “Force himself in.”

Billy shot the first man, one bullet straight in the face. He was seething. No one was allowed to talk about his baby like that. He shot the next two, leaving the one that had spoken of last, nodding at his guards to take the rest of the bodies out of here, to throw him on the chair across for Billy’s desk.

“So, what do you think gives you the right to say those things about my husband.” He brought out a flat box, the velvet insides holding his blades, the sharp silver ones Steve had given him as a wedding gift. “You plan to kill me, and to rape my sweet baby.” He tutted. The man in the chair was sweating, his eyes wide. Billy held the box out, standing to the side. “Kitten, I think you should have the honors.”

Steve had watched Billy work a hundred times. He knew where to cut, which tendons to sever to cause the most pain. He was as artful as Billy, less practiced, but still sure.

He didn’t make too many cuts, didn’t want the man to bleed out. He situated himself on the desk, in plain view of the man and his own husband.

“I think we should give him a little show. What do you think, Darling?” He was looking at Billy through his lashes. “Let him see what he’ll be missing out on.” He took off his jacket, undoing the buttons on his shirt slowly, revealing soft, pale skin.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Kitten.” Billy stepped in to undress Steve the rest of the way, using their belts to strap the man down to the chair, making sure he couldn’t escape while they were wrapped up in one another.

Steve stared at him darkly, really made a show of fingering himself, opening himself up for Billy. The man obviously didn’t know where to look, wanted to watch the three fingers disappearing into that dusky pink entrance.

“You’re allowed to watch. We’re putting on a show, just for you.” Steve purred out, standing to turn around, bend over the desk, whole exposed, wet with lube and stretched out.

Billy shifted him around, spread him out on his back, legs spread open, giving the man a side view of their fucking.

Billy didn’t hold back, was rough with Steve, yanked his hair and bit at him, leaving marks in the spaces between fading ones.

Steve was arching, his noises high-pitched, breathy, loud. He kept his eyes open, trained on the man beside them, as if to say this could’ve been you.

He came quickly, bent up and hard from the events of the day, the way they were being watched. He begged Billy to touch him, to let him cum. Billy obliged, as he always would, stroking him fast and hard, fucking him through it as his back drew tight, as he screamed, as he shot off all over himself.

Billy forced him to his knees, finishing all over Steve’s face. Steve stayed there, breathing heavily and naked, face covered in thick white cum, blinking slowly at the man, licking his lips.

Billy retrieved his gun and the man could feel it against his temple.

“Next time, don’t forget who the real boss is.”

Steve grinned as the shot rang out.

[studentville-struggles]

Lockdown Luck

A short Draco drabble I thought up in the shower during these strange quarantine days. I’m thinking there will probably be a part 2 so let me know what you think of part 1!

Pairing: Draco x reader Words: 1,148 Summary: Experiencing the muggle world was what you had planned post Hogwarts, a pandemic was not on the cards, nor what you discovered during it 

Masterlist

Post hogwarts you decided that you wanted to be more than a witch. Muggle and wizarding life were merging in some areas and you wanted to be able to fit in, merlin knows you couldn’t cope with the shame of a ‘exposing muggles to magic’ charge, your parents would disown you, kill you, potentially both.  

You’d grown up in a proud, but caring pure blood family, though you’d made many a mugggle born friend during your time at Hogwarts. Having spent the odd week staying with their families in your summer breaks, you’d been fascinated. A few of these friends had said they were going to do a degree, some kind of post school, school. It sounded strange, and was pretty bloody expensive, but you wanted to do it. In fact, you stayed longer than they did. You found an affinity between the muggle science ‘chemistry’ and potions or alchemy. You completed your degree in chemistry and began working on a research degree, something muggles were very impressed with – your parents, less so.  

They were proud that you were doing something meaningful, since you were investigating things with regards to complex scientific issues the muggles had, but would much rather you were working for the ministry.  

Unfortunately for you, the muggle world was currently being plagued with a global infection; a pandemic they call it. As a result, people all over the country, in multiple corners of the world, were effectively locked in their houses, not going out unless they had to, in an attempt to stop the spread. As you were still writing up your various projects within your thesis, this was a welcome break from your very muggle office.  

You loved muggle life, it was so simple yet overcomplicated, everything felt like it took longer because you had to do it by hand. No enchanting things to work while you sort something, no nothing. Though they had made some pretty impressive technological advancements to compensate. However, being able to use magic in your home, accio-ing what you need without having to move from your desk, using magic to make brews and food, was wonderful. It made things so much quicker and so much more enjoyable.  

What you weren’t expecting during this quarantine lockdown, was for a literal man to apparate into your house and announce that you were his fiancee.  

Draco Malfoy; the tall, bleach blonde, arrogant pain in the ass from your Hogwarts days, was stood in your hall, dressed in a suit, announcing you were getting married.

What. The. Fuck.  

You would be the first to admit there may be better ways to deal with a situation like this, than screaming ‘WHAT?!’ and being somewhat aggressive. Shoot first, ask questions later, has always been your grandfathers' motto and you stuck to it. However, it caught Draco off guard; he was not expecting someone to be upset about marrying him, even if the situation wasn’t one of his choosing. He was a Malfoy, why wouldn’t anyone want to marry him?

After a semi hostile interaction, Draco was sat on your sofa, explaining the chaos that had been unleashed into your life. Apparently, way back when you were 15 and Draco was 16, your parents had enjoyed a lovely dinner party together, with them later meeting to discuss the two of you as a potential couple. With both families being pureblood (something your mother held very strongly and the Malfoys were well, the Malfoys) and the two of you being in Slytherin, but a year apart, apparently you were a match made in heaven. As everyone knows, wearing the colour green and the magic-ness of your lineage says a lot about your personality.  

You couldn’t say that you were close to Draco at school. Obviously you never shared lessons being a year apart, and you were no Pansy Parkinson. She demanded his attention all day and night from what you saw in the common room. When you had seen his interactions with others, they had been abrupt, curt and in a lot of cases, downright rude. However, within the common room, the slytherin prince was a lot softer, brighter even. He allowed the façade his father had so obviously pressed upon him to come down a bit. You on occasion actually saw the boy for who he was and not a moulded mini me. The occasions where you had actually interacted were often on the quidditch pitch, with you being a chaser for your team, but as he was a seeker, he often just did what he wanted regardless of the teams tactics. He was competitive, like you, but where he was brutal in defeat, you were more likely to comfort and ensure that others were unlikely to blame themselves for the teams failings. There was a time you may have noticed Draco in rose light, but his comments towards your friends in your third year ruined that abruptly.  

Yet here he was, the man your family had contracted you to marry. Those 8 years ago, two families signed a contract, vowing their children, if not already married, would be married before the eldest turned 25. Draco was 24, his birthday fast approaching, you would be married.  

A less than fun fact that had come out in your initial spat of a conversation was that, not only were you to be married, you were forbidden to be divorced for 15 years following your vows. Not only were you bound to him, you legally could not undo that bond without waiting out the majority of your young adulthood. They were convinced to make this pairing work.

“When?” You had asked Draco finally. The two of you quietly sipping on a cup of tea, the anger and bitterness you both had for your families no longer being taken out on the other. You were both as innocent in this, both as undignified and bitter that your life was being controlled in this way.  

“My birthday is in three weeks” He admitted, a sad look in his eyes as he looked to you. “So before then I guess.”

You were horrified, not only did they not tell you of your preplanned wedding, your parents hadn’t even bothered to give you any notice. How were you going to find a dress in three weeks, let alone have it ready? How would you tell your coworkers, you knew you were single, that you were now married? How were you going to loose that arm fat you’d been trying to shift in time? Who in merlins name was going to turn up to a wedding, during a muggle pandemic, with three weeks notice?

What were you supposed to do with the man currently sat in your living room? You hadn’t spoken to him seven years really, what were you supposed to say? Long time no see, shall we start looking at rings?

[ardenttheories]

I don't expect a super serious answer from this, but I'm just curious. in a perfect world, how would hs^2 be written? do you have any particular headcanons or plot lines that would be interesting to explore? I understand the hesitation in answering a question like this, because other people might try to discredit your critiques under the guise of "well its not ur headcanons so that's why ur mad". anyways, just curious because I respect your perspective and ideas

In complete honesty? The first thing I would consider vital is a diverse team of people - genuinely diverse - to consider every point of representation with. I’m talking people of different races (to avoid the anti-black coding of Gamzee), with mental illnesses (to avoid the ableism in both Gamzee and Dirk), with different gender identities (to more accurately and healthily portray Jade, Roxy, Vriska, June - any character we could feasibly want to make trans or nonbinary), with different romanticisms and sexualities (so that we could write genuine MLM and WLW relationships without falling into homophobic pitfalls; to avoid biphobic stereotypes), and overall, with different traumatic experiences and triggers (so that we could more accurately gauge what triggers would need to be tagged and how to go over them in an appropriate and respectful manner).

We could never be 100% perfect, but with a team like that, we could at least get close to it. 

Additionally, I’d bring back either fan prompts or closely listen to fan theories and conversations. Homestuck^2 was touted to be written with the fandom in mind; to consider the direction we were asking it to go in, while basing it around a general barebones structure. I’d want to make sure we were including as much of that in as humanly possible. So, if a fan theory seemed like it’d fit into the story? I’d want to include that with the rest of the text; if the fans liked a specific character? I’d want to try and include them more often. Little things to show that we’re listening and that we’re writing the story WITH the fans - like how early Homestuck used to be.

On an actual storyline basis, I really do love the concept of Meat and Candy; that there’s one timeline that goes off the rails and one that is very rigidly stuck to a track. I wouldn’t want to change that concept entirely, but I would want to make it more palpatable for people to read. 

This would mean, for me, absolutely getting rid of anything to do with Yiffany. I’d completely replace that with Dave and Jade having a child together via ectobiology; how Jade has to raise their child in Dave’s absence after he goes missing, how that affects her, who she turns to for comfort and help. 

I’d want to focus Candy more on that feeling of helplessness and dissociation. On John feeling adrift in a world that doesn’t quite connect with him, that doesn’t entirely feel real; how that would affect his relationships, his friends, his family. In this timeline, all of the rebellion stuff would be completely background to the interpersonal connections everyone has (the things that supposedly don’t matter, as is the point of Candy), with much more emphasis on how useless and frivolous the whole war is. It’d get to a point where nobody actually knows why they’re fighting anymore except for the fact that they are, and that even Jane, who started it out of a genuine fear for the human race, is getting tired of it, is losing resources, is starting to realise that she’s drifting away from her own child. 

A truce would be garnered, started by Jane who just very much wants to reconnect with her son, with Karkat taking on the role as troll emissiary. It features long talks in a large, empty room, pouring over papers, where Jane admits that she doesn’t actually know what anyone is up to these days, how long it’s been since she’s seen her husband, since she’s seen John, and Karkat quietly confesses that it’s been several years since he’s seen Dave or Jade, and that he misses them both. 

After that, a lot of the content of Candy would focus on healing. They would get back to their happily ever after, even though some things would never be the same, and there would still be inconsequentialities. It would also correspond with John coming to the slow realisation that he really doesn’t need a plot to be happy at all; that just because it doesn’t matter to the overarching story doesn’t mean it can’t matter to him. 

The Candy timeline, therefore, would close early; it would fade from our view just as Dirk feared, but it would be happy and content, and free from any further meddling. I’d essentially want to enforce this idea that, yes, we can still have happy endings - even if they aren’t “full of meaning”. They can still be satisfying.

The Meat timeline, on the other hand, would have a significant focus on Dirk and his attempts to continue the plot. I think it would be fun, admittedly, if nothing went the way he thought it would. That after all of his villany and his acceptance of destruction in order to facilitate something he thought would be better, he actually just lost complete and utter control. 

The plot isn’t something that he alone can continue. It’s created with character conflict, with motivations and rises and falls and losses and gains; trying to recreate SBURB, to try and restart the cycle, isn’t what a plot needs to be. It isn’t what he thinks it will do. 

I’m unsure if you’ve seen this recently, but there’s been a lot of fanwork around the Lord!Jake English idea that went around several years back (when people saw the Caliborn sona). Now, this I’d want to put into it. 

Jake, fed up with being stepped on, walked over, hurt, suffering from the trauma of being completely and utterly ruined by Dirk, absolutely flips shit. He chases after Dirk to seek revenge, to cut short whatever bullshit he’s trying to do, and therefore much of the comic becomes this constant back and forth with an increasing fear for Dirk the closer Jake gets as he traverses Paradox Space.

It’s very much clear that when Jake arrives, Dirk will lose. There’s no question about it. Nobody suggests that anything else will happen. There’s several arguments on Meat’s Earth C over whether or not they should try to stop Jake, or let him stop Dirk - and whether or not Jake will calm down afterwards or continue his rampage. 

In the end, Dirk fails. Jake catches up to him, and just before he hits the killing blow, the entire thing goes dark. Our narrator dead, the plot abandoned; there is nothing more to see. This I would want to use to enforce the idea that, yes, plot can still be satisfying as hell and still have integral moments and be heavy and harsh - but it can also end in a way that leaves open questions because that shows that it isn’t the best ending you can get. 

And then we jump back to Terezi, using her Seer powers. Both timelines have been her trying to use her powers to See what’s in store, where she should go, what she should do. She’s still floating through Paradox Space, looking for Vriska, and as such she’s met with this... sort of internal dilemma. 

She knows, now, that the chances of her dying out here are high. She also knows that even if she does survive, she’s pretty much never going to see Vriska again anyway. She knows there’s a chance at a happier relationship with John, and that the only way she can get that is if she somehow manages to make a timeline where Meat and Candy merge together at once. 

So, she flies back. She manages to arrive on Earth C the day of John’s big decision, and interrupts him before he can go to the picnic. Through their dialogue, John gets it stuck in his head that, hey, there’s something BIGGER out here that you need to do, but you need to do that amazing thing again where you make a third Choice.

When John arrives at the picnic, he decides to eat some of the pumpkin instead - to which you might be thinking, what pumpkin? The one he put there, of course, using his retcon powers.

So we start on the Pumpkin timeline, written entirely in the 1st person narrative from John’s POV. It’s a completely biased interpretation of what’s going on, but it’s honest to John’s own thoughts and feelings, too, allowing everyone to act the way they usually would do without any influence, but still having a narrative touch. 

It shows John actively fighting to free the timeline from Dirk’s and Alternate Calliope’s narrative controls, those little hooks they’ve planted in it since time began, with a lot of back-and-forth as the two talk to John through the narration (which, he hears their voices as thoughts in his head). 

John attempts to free them both from their own biases and chains, encouraging Alternate!Calliope to leave the space she’s isolated herself in and join Earth C while convincing Dirk to undo the bullshit villain schtick he’s on (and that plot or no plot, there’s still a reason worth living for). 

It’d be a timeline filled with references back to original Homestuck (and funny quips from both Alternate!Calliope and Dirk along the way), a lot of morality discussion, plenty of theorising on narrative control and arcs and the placement of plot and fluff in a satisfying story, and have plenty of representation and romance and hints towards kids, too (such as nonbinary RoxyJaneCallie, DaveJadeKat, aromantic Jake, JohnDirk [because I couldn’t stop myself, honestly, with how their Classpects work so well hand in hand], and definitely RoseMary being the first to adopt a child that they absolutely do not call Vriska). 

It’d fill plotholes the fandom wants to be filled, and it’d have drama, of course, in the form of figuring out a way to destroy Lord English that doesn’t inherently lead to the Candy timeline. But it’d go back and forth between the heavy, plot-filled moments and the slower, relationship-based moments, with more humanising and development of Dirk and Alternate!Calliope and John as rounded characters.

That’s the best my tired mind can come up with right now. It’s something I’ve daydreamed about a lot, actually; how I’d rewrite Homestuck^2, or what my own ending to Homestuck would be using it as a foundation. I hope it makes sense! It’s a fun little thought experiment, honestly.

[dagenspear]

Crisis On Infinite Earths Outline Fix, Part 5: Laurel Returns!

This is the conclusion to the Crisis, Part 5! This is a bit of a longer one again. For parts 1, 2, 3 & 4, here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

I thank God for these ideas, if He wills, that He blessed me with:

The bright green light consumes the screen.

Kara, Wally, Jjonn, Ray, Sara and Kate all wake up in their new earth.

But things are different. Black Lightning's, Supergirl's, Earth 1's, Earth 3's and another earth's are now all merged into 1. Lex is the head of the DEO. All the speedsters remember everything. Cisco's powers are back, which when he touches Wally, vibes his pre-crisis memories back. The history of Earth 3 is now apart of that earth's, the Justice Society Of America having been prominent heroes, with the members of Jay Garrick Flash, Dinah Drake Black Canary (Laurel and Sara's mom), Ted Grant Wildcat, Dr. Fate, Hawkman/Hawkgirl, Alan Scott Green Lantern, and others, apart of the team in the 80's & 90's. Barry Allen's Flash has been erased, having never existed. Wally is seen as The Flash, the 2nd Flash there's ever been, after Jay Garrick. John Diggle's life has been altered as well.

Cisco misses Barry, but has become accepting of the situation after the preparations made for it and sees it as his responsibility to maintain the protection of the city. He uses his vibing to give Caitlin, Ralph and the others their memories back, but Wally stops him from giving them to Joe and Iris, saying that he doesn't want them to bear the heartbreak of losing Barry all over again.

Iris is the head of the Central City Citizen, which Post Crisis is a prominent newspaper.

Wally is left to ponder that the people see him as the Flash, him refusing to wear the costume, stating that he's not the Flash. Cisco tells him that the people think he is.

Mia is angry and guilty about the loss of her dad. Diggle has guilt that he couldn't be there for him when it happened.

Cisco picks up a reading of something coming from space, and traces it to landing outside STAR Labs, which he confronts, to find a man landing there.

Sara and Diggle talk about Oliver's loss and she tries to assuage his guilt, stating that no matter what, Oliver wouldn't have wanted him to die fighting this threat, and that Oliver was very stubborn, which they both have a small laugh about.

Sara comforts Mia, whose beginning to be accepting of her dad's death and that he died saving the multiverse, seeing him as a hero.

Sara, though having wanted to continue fighting, is still depressed about the fact that so much of her family is gone and that she has almost no one in her life. Which she talks with Mia about.

That's when they're attacked by some shadow creatures. They fight them, but are pinned down, about to be torn apart, when suddenly...

A sonic scream emerges from the side! BLASTING THEM BACK! And from the side...

Emerges Black Canary.

Sara is shocked. But apprehensive... until Black Canary looks at them and acknowledges Sara as her sister with a smile and rushes to her. Sara realizing that this is E1 Laurel. Alive. Laurel helps her up and Sara touches her shoulders, almost in disbelief that this is real, tears springing to her eyes, before hugging her, crying, in tears of happiness and grief. Mia almost smiles at the moment as well. Mia realizes and says that if they attacked them, they may attack the others as well.

They go to STAR Labs to warn them about what's happening. And are met with Cisco stating that he knows it's not over, as they've been told by someone, that someone revealing themself as the Green Lantern AKA Guy Gardner, from the Justice League Of America 1997 TV Movie, played by Matthew Settle.

Everyone is brought together, Diggle, Kate and Mia included. Guy Gardner tells them that he was from the other earth that was merged with the others, and is questioned by Diggle in how he survived the merge with all his memories intact. He says that his ring protected him. Cisco and Guy explain that the antimatter verse portal is still open, but is slowly closing as this new timeline, of sorts, cements, and if it does, those shadow creatures will be stuck here. Cisco determines that they're gonna need to recreate the sonic pulse to try and get those shadow creatures to them, so they can somehow get them into the portal before it closes. Laurel volunteers to do it, in spite of Sara's concern. Cisco explains that because there's no way to know where they are, they're gonna need to double the pulse from before to get all of them to them. Diggle suggests Dinah. Laurel questions that, but Cisco states that the Dinah Diggle is suggesting is Zinda Blake post-crisis and doesn't have a sonic cry and Laurel's mom has never had powers. Diggle realizes that he hasn't gotten all his memories straight yet. Cisco then says that there's someone else who can help them.

We cut to E2 Laurel standing in front of Laurel. Laurel is uncertain about this. E2 Laurel maintains her memories of pre-crisis. Laurel asks how this is possible. Cisco speculates that with the merging of some universes there may be holdovers from the previous, then stating that both Laurels have the metagene for the canary cry, a now discovered gene post crisis, and, with his memories of EX Laurel, he speculates at least most, if not all the Laurels in the multiverse, have one as well. But E2's was activated by dark matter, while post crisis Laurel's was activated by a gene bomb HIVE set off in 2014, HIVE post crisis being an organization who sought to enhance humanity, using techological and biological enhancements. Laurel asks E2 Laurel if she can be trusted with her history as a villain. E2 Laurel points out that she remembers nearly dying to help and hopes that's gained something. Sara vouches for her. Laurel trusts Sara's judgement and agrees.

The group all agree that the only reason the shadow creatures would have a reason to attack them is based on the Anti-Monitor being alive still. They talk about how that's possible, Sara, among the Legends, suggests that as time hasn't fully cemented yet, he may not be erased, Cisco then suggesting that he also may be acting essentially as a time remnant or using something to keep himself from erasure, like tech or something. Jjonn tells them that he read the Anti-Monitor's mind before he transported himself away and he read that because his plan to cause an antimatter universe of his own in place of our multiverse has been stopped, he's willing to try and prevent the multiverse from forming at all, even if it means his own destruction. They work out how he'd do that, coming to the conclusion that he can use the temporal zone to go to the dawn of time to try and undo it at it's inception.

As the group works out their plan, Guy Gardner uses the STAR Labs computers to look into information about his friends post crisis, from his earth, and where they are now.

His Barry Allen is now Darryl Frye, a detective in Central City.

B. B. Dacosta is now Green Fury, her alter ego as a pop star, Madonna-esque.

His Ray Palmer is now Al Pratt, a respected physics college Professor, and first Atom post crisis.

Tori Olafsdotter is now Mary Pratt, married to Al Pratt, and a reporter.

His Martian Manhunter is unable to be located here.

Diggle is there and tells him glad that a lot of his friends are okay on this earth. Guy Gardner understands that he speaks from a place of a grief at his friend having died in the crisis. Guy Gardner and Diggle bond over that, Guy telling him that now all his friends are found, that Martian Manhunter from his earth is still missing, but he has faith that he's out there somewhere and Diggle has to have faith that his friend is somewhere out there too. Diggle agrees that he does, that it's like Oliver said, it's God's plan.

The team works out the plan.

Before starting, Sara apologizes to Laurel for what happened on the boat. Laurel tells her that she didn't go through with it. Sara says that she would've and that kills her, for being jealous and petty like that, saying that she wanted to have what Laurel had, be her, but she was just hurting herself and her whole family, stating that she doesn't want this, hating herself, to hold her back anymore, that she wants to move forward. Laurel agrees.

Kara and Kate talk, Kate telling her that she can't find Bruce and doesn't know where he is. Kara tells her that she can't give up.

The majority of the group tracks the energy signature of the Anti-Monitor, courtesy of Cisco with combination of tech and his vibe powers, through the temporal zone in a waverider pod, as Diggle, Wally, Guy Gardner, E2 Laurel and Laurel remain on the waverider, above earth. The waverider pod containing Sara, Kara, Alex, Kate, Ray, Cisco and Jjonn.

The 2 Laurels begin their sonic pulse. Guy Gardner explains that they're going to have to act quickly, as his ring is running out of power, and that's why he can't use it for flight while he's using it for the trapping of the shadow creatures and why he'll have to stand at the open door of the waverider as he does it. When Diggle asks if he can recharge it, Guy tells him that post crisis the ring isn't his anymore and will seek out it's true bearer when the time comes, and because of that he doesn't have access to charging it. When the shadow creatures are drawn to the waverider by the sonic pulse, Guy Gardner uses his ring to capture them, giving the go ahead to Wally to superspeed a speedforce portal into the closing antimatter portal, allowing Guy Gardner to funnel the creatures into it.

Meanwhile the others chase after the energy signature of the Anti-Monitor in the wavrider pod, as he flies through the temporal zone. They get close to him, but, realizing they can't catch up, Cisco breaches them both into a neutral area, the vanishing point. The waverider pod crashing. When the group climbs out, they see...

Anti-Monitor standing, unscathed, towering over them, in full comic book Crisis On Infinite Earths Anti-Monitor tech body armor.

Cisco breaches away quickly.

The Anti-Monitor mocks them for that and bringing him here, stating that he's been erased from existence, so the vanishing point no longer holds it's sway over containing him.

Sara states that they didn't bring him here for that. They just didn't want anything or anyone to be in the crossfire, when they destroy him.

They begin the battle:

Atom blasting the Anti-Monitor, even trying to fly into his ear, shrunken, but he's slapped away.

Jjonn flies into him, reaching into his chest by phasing, but the armor he's wearing electrocutes and burns Jjonn. The Anti-Monitor then responding by punching into his chest, him flying backward, being smashed into the ground.

Kara and Kate double team him in an attack of distraction and offensiveness, but are blasted away by an energy beam.

Alex begins shooting at him from behind, telling him not to touch her sister, but he, unaffected, simply redirects his beams at her, which she just barely dodges, then, on the ground, leg badly hurt, being met with another blast directly at her.

Kara quickly superspeeds inbetween her sister and the beam, trying to hold it back with her heat vision, him walking up to her, pushing her heat vision back into her eyes, grabbing her head, placing his hand over her eyes, the heat vision burning them, BLINDING HER, her yelling out in pain.

Back on the wavrider Diggle, flying above earth, tells those on board that it's time. The 2 Laurels are ready.

Sara comes up behind him with a blade, but he grabs her quickly by the throat, destroying her blade, mocking her for thinking it'd work, then saying that now she's alone again. Sara smirks, saying that she's far from alone.

Suddenly a breach opens and Brandon Routh Superman emerges, flying like a freight train into the Anti-Monitor. The Anti Monitor's grip on Sara is immediately broken, him being SMASHED into the ground.

Cisco exits the breach right after, as Cisco as ever, exclaiming, "Was that a bird? A plane? Why, I think it was Superman!" He then asks Sara if she's okay. She says that she is, but what took him so long? He explains that they had a couple last minute additions.

Out of the breach emerges:

E1 Black Canary

E2 Black Canary

Killer Frost

Citizen Steel

Heatwave

Tyler Hoechlin Superman

Black Lightning

Tom Welling Superman

Obviously Brandon Routh Superman, as he re-positions himself.

They all engage in battle with the Anti-Monitor. Their powers all together do some damage. Atom's blasts, the canary cries, the electric blasts, the cold blasting, the flamethrower flames, the heat visions of all the Supermen doing the most damage. But he's still too powerful to defeat. Cisco tries to use his breaches to slice the Anti-Monitor apart, but his suit breaks the breaches apart when they close in on him.

Alex crawls over to check on Kara, whose eyes seem almost seared in a way.

In the waverider, Guy Gardner is having a hard time containing all the shadow creatures as he funnels them into the antimatter portal. Diggle, flying the waverider with some difficulty, tells Wally that the others need help down there. Wally's uncertain he can. Diggle lays it out, telling him that it doesn't matter what he thinks, because they still need the Flash. Wally takes the Flash ring out of his pocket, pondering it. Diggle asks him if he's ready to do what it takes to save everyone. Wally, in resolve, places the ring on his finger, and extends his fist, the Flash symbol on the ring glowing in almost a lightning crackle blaze.

In the battle, Sara tells them to try to hit the Anti-Monitor with all their powers all at once. They make an attempt, but he's too powerful for them to get at with all those hits at once. Cisco tries something, throwing his breaches around the Anti-Monitor's hands, then giving the Supermen the go ahead. The Supermen do so. Brandon Routh Superman grabbing his left arm, Tom Welling Superman grabbing his right, Tyler Hoechlin Superman grabbing his head, them all holding him in place.

On the waverider, Guy Gardner's green lantern power ring starts to drain, just as the last batch of the shadow creatures are getting to the antimatter portal. He tells Diggle he's almost there. Diggle tells him it could kill him. Guy states that they have to make sure they're all gone now, as the antimatter portal's about to close, it taking all of his willpower to hold it. Just as the last shadow creature gets in, the portal closes, Guy's power ring runs out and he falls unconscious from exhaustion, falling out of the waverider into earth's atmosphere. The Green Lantern ring slips from his finger and flies off as he falls. But just before Guy's about to be hit with the heat of re-entry...

Diggle swoops in with the waverider and catches him!

The Supermen holding the Anti-Monitor gives the others the room to throw their powers (canary cries, lightning, etc.) at him at the same time. It does more damage, but he still struggles. Tom Welling Superman stating that they can't hold him much longer. Sara asks how he's still so powerful.

Kara, hearing this, realizes, and tells them, that he's still empowered by the energy of the sun that was used to cause him to form and it may take a similar energy to destroy him. Cisco, as he holds the breaches around Anti-Monitor, intensely struggling, his nose bleeding a lot, says that it could work. Sara states that the only way to be sure would be to drop him into it directly. Cisco says that could result in the energy of the sun blowing back and killing all of them here. Kara tells them no, then asking Cisco if he has enough power to drop her in front of the sun. Cisco begrudgingly says yes, understanding her goal. Kara stands up, her eyes still seared, telling him to do so on her go ahead. Alex asks Kara what she's doing. She tells Alex that Nazi Supergirl could absorb enough of the energy of a sun to explode, and that if she gets enough, she could destroy him. Alex asserts that Nazi Supergirl died from it. Kara acknowledges that. Alex telling her no, she won't accept that. Kara hugs Alex tightly, telling her that she can't lose her home again and quickly pushes Alex away from her, telling her that she loves her and tell Lena she's sorry, then telling Cisco "now", the breach opening around Kara, taking her and closing just as quickly before Alex can stop it.

Tyler Hoechlin Superman asks what's happening.

Kara floats before the energy of the yellow sun of earth, it energizing her, the energy flowing to and healing her eyes, her opening them, with the energy of the yellow sun making them glow.

At Kara's request, Cisco breaches her back into the battle.

Kara floats over the battle, telling the Supermen to get away from the Anti-Monitor. Tyler Hoechlin Superman, realizing himself what's happening, tells her no, that he can't let her die, there has to be another way. The other Supermen agree. Kara states that he has a son to take care of, all of the Supermen do, it has to be her, that protecting him was her job in the first place. Tyler Hoechlin Superman continues to reject that.

But in a flash of lightning, all the Supermen are pulled away from the Anti-Monitor, and Wally stands before them, in the full Flash costume.

The Flash lives again, as Wally circles the Anti-Monitor at superspeed, throwing lightning at him multiple times, this keeping him in place...

Allowing Kara to enact her plan. She says to Tyler Hoechlin Superman, "I love you, Kal-El." and flies towards the Anti-Monitor, her heat vision BLAZING with the fire of the sun, searing into him, it burning through his armor, burning him from the inside out, FLAMES igniting from the eyes of his suit! This use of her powers causing her eyes to crack with yellow sun energy bleeding out, the cracks spreading more and more. The Anti-Monitor, enraged, yells out, "NO!" And Kara collides with him, the force of it IMPLODING THEM IN A FLASH OF LIGHT!

Leaving nothing but a crater, and Kara's torn cape. Alex and Tyler Hoechlin Superman rushing there, seeing only the cape, them both breaking down, almost leaning on eachother, Alex devastated, inconsolable. The other Supermen stand silently in mourning, placing their hands on their shoulders in an attempt at comfort. Everyone else surrounding them, in silence.

The President gives a speech, honoring the sacrifices of Supergirl and the Green Arrow with a statue of an \S/ in National City and one of Green Arrow being built in Starling City.

Diggle visits Guy Gardner in the hospital who tells Diggle that his time is over and now it's his turn. We confirm that Diggle, now having gained full memory of both earths, in this post-crisis, his name is John Stewart.

The team honors the Flash silently with a Flash symbol built in it and empty seats for Barry, Oliver, Kara, even Bruce at the new table, in the Hall Of Justice.

In the montage of showing the earths with show the same things, but now with inclusions of:

The Birds Of Prey TV Series Earth, showing that team now working with Kevin Conroy Batman, who has a renewed pursuit of heroism.

Tom Welling Superman with Lois, watching their kids, before he gets an alert on a fire in Metropolis, with Lois being proud of him.

Justice League Of America TV Movie Martian Manhunter alive, leading martians on Mars.

Earth 1 Bruce, alive, stranded on another earth, but on the search for a way back.

Gotham TV Series Bruce as Batman in his earth.

Some quick flashes with the Batman 89 earth and Batman 66 earth.

On a re-established Earth 90 E-90 Flash speeds through the city, before getting a message from Christina McGee of a bank robbery by Trickster, E-90 Flash smirking and then speeding off to it.

On earth prime, something falling to earth in front of Diggle, but stopping just short of hitting the ground and it redirecting and pointing right at him. It emanating a green light reflecting on his face.

Ending still on the Superman The Movie nod of Brandon Routh Superman flying, his symbol back to yellow and red.

THE END.

In case ya’ll are curious, Kara and Barry aren’t really dead and aren’t gone for good. In their respective seasons, they’d return after a couple episodes or so. Please review and tell me what you think!