#Well I didn't really have a theme and I needed to keep it simple so why not Dethy and Firmis

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 10

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Chapter summary: Past. Scott is frustrated that no one listens to him. Present. Once again, no one listens to Scott.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

When Logan was called into Charles's office, he knew it wasn't going to be good.

"Would you care to explain to me why one of my students saw you and Cyclops fighting last night?"

Logan didn't really want to deal with this. He had enough self hatred for whatever he did to make you cry, he didn't need Charles disappointed in him too.

"Are you gonna lecture Scott about it too?"

"I will be talking to him, as well as Remy and Miss Palmer. Fights are something I have to take seriously. What kind of example are you setting for the children?"

As much as Logan wanted to blame it all on Scott, make the little prick pay, he thought back to you. You liked Scott, you'd be upset if Scott got in trouble for you... It was best to just be honest.

"Listen Chuck, it was a mistake, but it wasn't Scotts fault, okay? I saw him messing with her sleeve, showing skin she don't like to show. You know how she is about that stuff." Charles nodded and raised a brow, clearly confused by Scotts actions but not jumping to conclusions. "I saw what he did, and you can't blame me for getting pissed, right? We went out back and fought, Remy broke it up. He only touched her like that because she was hiding... claw marks on back..."

Again, Charles was listening rationally. "And what were they from, son?"

Logan rolls his eyes, groaning. "you know what they were from, but it ain't like that. She came to me when I was having a nightmare and I must've scratched her in my sleep. I didn't even know I cut her until yesterday. Scott and I were both just trying to protect her, okay?"

For a long moment, Charles's eyes simple stayed locked with logan, watching him, searching him. Charles doesn't read minds unless he really needs to, seeing it was a violation of privacy he didn't use lightly.

"I know in the past I've told you i wouldn't tell you what to do, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to put my foot down about you and our young teacher."

He felt like a weight had been dropped on his stomach. "What?"

"I know a romance of sorts has formed, and I do not know how far it's gone nor do I care to. It needs to end. She is a child, Logan. I know she's opened up to you but i doubt she's told you the full story."

You hadn't, he knew, and Logan growled in frustration. "So tell me!"

"That is not my story to tell."

"But you can tell me not to see her? You don't think she can make her own choices?"

"She can't even choose what to make for dinner without crying. She's not at a place where she's ready to date."

But he'd take care of that. Logan would take care of dinner, he'd drive you anywhere and everywhere, he'd make sure you were happy and healthy and taken care of. You didn't need menial choices! You didn't need independence! You needed protection, a caretaker!

"So you just think I'm so fucking awful I'm gonna hurt that hurt, that what you think?"

"That is not what I'm saying."

Logan paused, staring down Charles and heavy breathing as he tried to control his anger. His hands fist the side of Charles's desk, knuckles turning white. He couldn't leave you alone. As soon as he saw you that day with Remy, he was cooked. By the time he got back to the mansion with you giggling at his side, Logan knew there was no future for him without you.

"Charles." Logan grinds out, jaw clenched. "I'm not going to hurt her. I love her."

At that, Charles softened a tad. "I know, son. But this is for the best. There are plenty of women here, women in this world that you could choose from. Why do you have to pick those you can't have?"

He was referencing Jean, of course.

"It's... not like that..."

You were different. You were soft and gentle and happy. You were kind and loving and you wanted him, him and only him. There was no Scott getting in the way. There were no powers, no mutations. Just a sweet girl who needed him to protect you. You were different from Jean.

"Logan, I'm sorry. But this is how it must be. I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt her, but she is fragile. For the record, I would say this if it was Scott, Remy, or Kurt. This is about her, not you."

Logan didn't believe that for a second, storming out the door and right past Scott who was waiting for his turn to speak to Charles.

After

God, this felt good.

The Monday after the schools prom.

2 days after Logan finally made love to you the way he wanted to, the way you deserved.

This morning, Logan walked you to your first class, your arm looped around his. You wore a tight dress for the first time in months to show off the pregnant stomach that swelled with his baby. His baby was growing inside you. The hallways hushed saved for the murmurs of students and teachers as he showed you off, both of you smiling. The secret was out. You were making your public debute.

Logan spotted Scott standing next to Jean, their conversation halted as he lead you to your classroom.

"Have a good day, dollface. I'll see you at lunch."

You beamed up at him in his arms. "You too Lo. I love you."

Then, making direct eye contact with Jean and then Scott, Logan took your chin in his hands and gave you a deep, open mouthed kiss. He heard a whistle from a student, but he didn't care as he slid his tongue inside you.

Scott stormed off, leaving jean behind. No doubt he was on his way to tattle to Charles now that he was back from his several month trip.

*

"I'm fine, Mr. Xavier. Really. Logan is good to me." You sat in front of your boss at his office. Scott had brought the new development to Charles immediately of course, and now you were being questioned. Logan had told you that Charles had instructed him to stay away from you, and now it was your job to convince him that everything was okay. For the sake of raising your baby in a two parent, loving and stable household, you'd omit how this happened, exactly. you'd push away your fears and focus on the man Logan had shown you he could be, not the version you worried was still lurking inside.

"Miss Palmer, Scott seems extremely worried. He is concerned that Logan has forced you into something or has harmed you in some way."

You resist the urge to vehemently defend Logan the way you had to Scott, but remember that that only served to make him more suspicious. Instead, you settle for indignation. "Mr. Xavier," You say in your best offended tone. "Logan loves me. he would never hurt me. he's not like Mark and frankly, I don't appreciate Mr. Summers throwing accusations around wildly. I thought after the incident at the dance where he was proven wrong, he would leave us alone, but he seems obsessive."

A small smile on Charles's face. "And you're aware of their history?"

"Yes, I am very aware. Mr. Summers won back Ms. Grey, so I don't understand why he can't just let Logan be happy. He's not a bad person, you know this. He's a good man, and he watches out for me."

A short pause. "Yes, I am aware Logan is a better man than Scott seems to think. If you would allow me to see into your mind, I can clear-"

"No." You say a little too quickly. Charles didn't force his way into peoples minds. You'd given him permission when you first met him so that he could see what happened to you, see what you did and why you felt no remorse for it. You would not allow that again, knowing what he'd see. He'd see Logan raping you, but he'd never understand why you defended him. He couldn't understand what you saw in Logan, the hope to put it all behind you and start new. "Forgive me, but I'm a private person. There are things I keep to myself."

He nods. "I understand. It seems, however, that you are quite distressed. I can sense it radiating off you. You have to understand my concern."

"Maybe my distress has to do with being raised in a cult, becoming a child bride and being beat for 7 years because i couldn't have a child which I was told was my only purpose in this world?"

Your words hung in the air, tension laced the nervous shuffling in your seat. You place a hand over your stomach. "I apologize, Mr. Xavier. Hormones. I-" You sigh, standing up. "We have an appointment, I have to go." You don't tell him it's your first appointment. You don't tell him you haven't seen a doctor because for the first 3 months you were convinced you would have an abortion. You didn't tell him Logan has to practically drag you here after everything you'd experienced from doctors before.

Charles watches you leave. "Don't be afraid to talk to me, child. We were here to help you. We won't fail you the way you have been failed before."

You almost laugh at that. "Please stop insinuating my boyfriend abuses me. That's how you can help." You open the door to see Logan right where you left him, waiting for you with worry in his eyes.

"Everything okay, Dolly?" He hugs you, eyes connecting over your shoulder to Charles.

"Yeah, everything's fine Lo. Let's go to the appointment."

*

"You can't fucking be serious!" Scott shouts as Remy leaves Charles's office. Scott insisted Charles speak to Remy, that surely her best friend would know something. But when Remy opened the door, and Charles said he's found nothing to suggest you are being harmed, Scott was infuriated.

Charles rolled over to where Scott and Remy stood. "She is insistent she is fine, and everyone we've spoke to says Logan never even raises his voice around her."

"But- months ago, something happened! She wasn't eating, the nightmares-" He gestures to Remy. "You said her nightmares got worse!"

Remy shrugs. "Lovers spat, Cher. She said they worked it out after she found out she was pregnant. It makes sense she's under stress right now, pregnancy outside of marriage is a shameful thing where she grew up."

Scott groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So you don't think it's suspicious she's pregnant? You don't think it's weird she's having sex this soon after leaving all that?"

"Cyclops." Charles warns, but Scott is just looking at remy now. How can he not see it?

Remy glares at Scott. "If you are suggesting Logan raped her you better come prepared to back that up other than this pissing contest between the two of you."

"It's not-"

"Accusing someone of rape is a big fucking deal you can't be throwing around. Last time you accused Logan of clawing her, you looked stupid so I would hope you have something more this time. Well, Scott, what do you have? What grand evidence is there that you can't just let them be happy?" When Scott didn't speak, Remy laughed. "Just as I thought, nothing. Go home to your wife, Scott."

Remy left the room, leaving Charles and Scott alone.

"You can't be serious, Charles."

The older man sighed, looking to his protégé. "Son, you know i respect your opinions and concerns. If you have any evidence-"

Scott heard enough, and stormed out. He wasn't crazy. he wasn't jealous. He didn't hate Logan simply because he fucked his wife. Okay well maybe that was the start. But this? This was wrong. You need help, even if you can't see it.

*

"Look so good like this, baby doll..." Logan mumbled into your neck. You and him laid on the couch watching Gladiator, but the movie was long forgotten. Who was Russel Crowe compared to Logan Howlett? He was hard against you, his cock pressed up against your ass underneath the blanket you insisted on because you were wearing a skirt, his arm wrapped around your middle, caressing your stomach. he was obsessed with your stomach, wanted to touch you there every chance he could.

"Logan, the movie," You giggle but make no attempt to stop as he kissed your neck. You loved the attention. You loved his gentle touches. You were nervous about having a baby, but Logan assured you every step of the way.

The appointment last week had gone well. You told the doctor you hadn't known you were pregnant, that it was a surprise, so he made sure to do a thorough check since you were 4 months along. You hadn't seen a doctor in all that time, but you had been eating well and Logan had brought you prenatal vitamins. Doctor said everything looked normal and healthy, thank god. You hadn't wanted this, not this way anyway, but you'd never forgive yourself if you somehow messed up your child's life with your indecision.

Logan's hands roamed your body under the blanket, humming against your skin. "My pretty wife... my perfect girl..." Logan had said he'd propose, that you and him were gonna get married... you were going to be a wife again. Logan's wife. he'd be different. This time would be different. You'd given logan a baby, so he had no reason to hurt you like Mark had.

"My husband..." You sigh, grinning ear to ear.

"You two are disgusting." Remy spoke, and you suddenly remembered he was in the chair, supposed to be watching the movie with you and Logan. You quickly grab Logan's hand away from where it was about to slide up your skirt, and sit up with a deep blush. Logan had promised to spend more time with Remy, you wanted them to be good friends. They were already casual friends long before you knew either one, but you wanted them to be closer. Remy was your family, the person other than Logan you spent the most time with. You had other friends now, Rogue and Ororo, and you and Emma had even begun to hang out, but Remy was your number one. He was the only person other than Logan and Charles you'd told about your past in full, although you suspected Scott knew from Charles.

Logan sat up with you, but didn't let you go, instead sitting you between his legs on his lap. His hands stayed far more decent now.

"Sorry..." You mumble, but Remy is smiling.

"Don't worry pistache, I'm just happy to see you finally together."

You tried to focus more on the movie, and not Logan's throbbing erection still nuzzled against you and how you were going to take care of it later. Everything was going fairly well. Logan slept in your room most nights, but sometimes you'd wake up to find him gone. Those were nights he had nightmares, so he got up and went back to sleep in his own room. If he was in a bad headspace he'd sleep away from you too, to not risk hurting you again.

Your nightmares, however, would not stop. Nearly every night you woke up in Logan's arms as he tried to gently wake you, the horrors of what you dreamed of still sharp and brutal in your mind. You couldn't understand why they hadn't stopped, why Logan's faded to less and less while yours increased. You were supposed to be in love. your happy ending with a husband and a baby... so where was the happy?

"Well, well, well, look who finally escaped the throuple from hell." From the doorway of the common room, and glib voice pulled everyone's attention to were Wade stood. You'd never met him, but you'd seen a few pictures here and there. He was someone Logan actually liked, and in his very minimalist decor of his room, there was a small framed picture of him and Wade Wilson together. Next to it now sat a picture from your first ultrasound.

"Shit, Wade" You can here the smile in logan's voice. "I didn't know you were coming."

Still grinning, Wade shrugged. "Yeah, well, I might have caused a few issues with the Time Variant Authority. Gross misuse of a time traveling device to save my girlfriend and all that. Gonna lay low for a bit, figured I'd come see you and my favorite piece of Cajun spiced ass."

Remy got up from his chair to greet Wade in a big hug. "Nice to see you too, asshole."

Logan spoke again. "I'd get up to say hi, but I'm pretty sure my dick would be saying hi too."

"Logan!" You admonish, face burning in embarrassment as your lover whispered a half-hearted apology in your ear.

"Oh-ho-ho, trust me peanut I would not be complaining." Wade looked to you. "And just who is this pretty piece of pumpkin pie?"

"Watch it, mouth." Logan growled behind you. "She's mine." Him calling you his made you warm up even more, as if the display every single morning as he walked you to class didn't say that enough.

"I see that!" Wade is nearly chuckling, a twinkle in his eye. Logan went to Wade's right after Jean chose Scott over him, so Wade was very aware of everything he'd been through. No doubt he was happy to see his friend in a better position. "No more crawling back to Jean and Scott like a lost wolvie?"

"I never fucked Scott you goddamn twink"

"Sure you didn't." Wade lifted himself off where he leaned against the wall, walking towards where you sat. You were raised to be polite, so much to Logan's grumbling you stood up. Logan covered his pants with the blanket. "Wade Wilson." He extended his hand. "And you are?"

"Judith Palmer." You gave him your fake name.

"My fiancé." Logan asserts from the couch.

With the blanket off, your pregnant stomach was on full display, and Wade's eyes nearly bugged out of his head looking at you.

"Good golly miss molly, she sure as hell is! Fucking hell, I've been in need of a good tea spill sesh, this is just the right time." A deep breath and a dreamy sigh, Wade looked between you, Logan, and Remy as he crossed his arms, grinning. "So tell me, how did all this happen?"

Sorry it took so long to update!!!! I've been, frankly, very sick. If you havnt seen my posts, I spent one weekend literally friday to monday laid up, so lethargic i couldn't lift my arms sometimes. I have an amazing roommate whose in nursing school who i love dearly who took care of me.

two weeks later im still sick. Not lethargic and feverish but bronchitis now :( suffering.

And i still have school to catch up on.

but i finally got a better laptop thanks to black friday sales which has made doing stuff fast without lagging and crashing unexpectedly.

so, WELCOME WADE WILSON!!!!!!

And scott, poor scott. I've been telling my friend whose not a fanfiction reader about this series and shes been helping me with things, she says the fact that scott is the only one who sees something is wrong and no one is listening to him is "biblically accurate scott summers" LMFAOOOO

We're probs not gonna meet all the xmen, even the ones i actually know. Idk if we'll even see kurt again. but they are around! scott, remy, and wade will be the biggest piece.

thanks so much for all the love!!!

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstarr @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

[jovialturtleface]

I imagine to an immortal being a year might easily slip past them, I mean they've got an eternity for anything they might need to do or fix. Which is to say... A new year approaches.

[yanderestarangel]

♡ — 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐑𝐄 | 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃!𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑

— TW: smut, praise, dark themes, age gap, light yandere, age gap, friend of your farher!albert wesker, v!sex, manipulation, nsfw, distorted mind, oral, afab anatomy, blackmail, recorded sex, daddykink, no pronouns used besides 'you'.

♡—Wesker was a sick man, he knew that, but Albert's darkest desires could not be ignored for long. He was your dad's co-worker, and to tell the truth, he hated the man, however, there was something about your father that interested him... You.

♡— Wesker, unfortunately for you, laid eyes on you, it was just small glances behind the dark lenses of his glasses, but soon after, you were already in the scientist's darkest thoughts. He thought you were a precious thing, a little pearl that needed to be protected by him, so he decided to get even closer to your dad, it was so easy to manipulate the man and infiltrate your family that Albert found it pathetic, but he needed you... Being close to you, you were eating away at his mind with every bitter second that passed in the older man's abjacent solitude.

♡— Wesker could just get rid of anyone in the worst way possible and lock you up in a place isolated from everything and everyone, make you his untouched little doll, lock you in a glass dome and watch you all day — he could force you to loving him, worshiping him like a god, he wanted to make you walk on the ground he walks on and see your tongue lick every drop of his seed, things escalated very quickly for him, but he didn't care, in the blonde's head, he was a superior being, and could do anything he wanted.

♡— Wesker researched every strong and weak point of your personality, in a few days he had a folder and raw files of hours and hours of recordings of you, either with the wiretap he secretly placed on your cell phone, or with the cameras hidden behind home — which he put it when he went to your house, to drink some wine and hand over some papers from the umbrella to your dad — or for the hours he spent stalking every post of yours on the internet. He knew everything about you... Absolutely everything, you were his obsession, you were his property and his alone... It didn't take long for you to realize that.

♡— Wesker began with calm touches, as if he were watering a flower, wetting your petals of desire with the nectar of hot, forbidden touches. He would pay you so much attention, wearing the best smile behind his serious and cold face, his lips would always have an expression of comfort for you — He would always shower you with sweet nicknames, telling you how proud he is of you always giving your best to you. college grades, or how good you were. He would divert your father's attention just to visit you in your room, giving you expensive gifts that you had wanted for a long time. "— I just remembered you baby, it suits your eyes, don't worry about the value sweetheart." Albert would speak in a hoarse tone, placing the emerald necklace around your neck, brushing his fingers for too long on your skin and leaving soon after, leaving you with a confused feeling in your chest and a heat in your core.

♡— Wesker has been mentally writing down the best nicknames he can think of. "— My Prince/Princess, My doll, My baby boy/baby girl, My little gem, My good boy/girl, honey, darling, dear, sweet little thing." And all of them are accompanied by mischievous phrases and smiles. " — Good job prince/princess, you did well... Keep it up." " — you really are a cute little thing, aren't you? Making Daddy happy." The scientist would purr in your ear, away from your father's eyes... Not that he cares much, but he loves the feeling of adrenaline, seeing your face blush, you would be a mess for a simple compliment or word of affirmation... It was so cute to him, like a stalking prey, a deer lost and beautiful in the snow.

♡— Wesker knew that resisting his charm was never an option, and it wouldn't be. He is a man who knows how to play his cards right, and it wouldn't take long for him to trap you in his web of manipulation and possession, he would make you his body, mind and soul, break you to the breaking point.

♡— Wesker would have luxurious dinners at his penthouse, calling his family, an excuse to see you again. He would get your dad drunk enough to pull you to some corner of the house and pull down your clothes, slapping your ass hard as he knelt kissing your clit, forcing you to lean against the cold wall while he fucked you out. "— Fuck imagine if your father comes in here and sees his sweet son/daughter like that? Fucking his friend?" Albert smiled mischievously, as he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you to the sides, leaving you well prepared for him. He would hold you with his strong arms, taking you to the table where your father slept drunk, fucking you in front of the man's sleepy body. " — Fucking h-hell Mmm- imagine if he wakes up? Seeing you like this? Seeing that you're nothing but a fucking slut." He babbled, pushing the base of his dick into your cunt, while you covered your moans with your hand, feeling your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure.

♡— Wesker will fuck you in your own house, making an excuse for your father who needs to recommend some colleges to you, while he aggressively beats you on the mattress, tying your ankles with his tie, while overstimulating your pussy, inserting his shaft repeatedly into your uterus, he'll just take out even the tip and put it all in at once with a sadistic smile on his thin lips. "—I could fuck you like this all day."

♡— Wesker would say such dirty and sweet things to you while turning you into a dumb mess. " — Your sweet little pussy is made for my cock, isn't it?" His free hand reaches down to caress your breasts, pinching and pinching your sensitive nipples, eliciting more moans from your lips. He continues to tease and torment you, pushing you closer to the edge of orgasm before pulling back, prolonging your agony - and his, you could beg and whimper, as he takes a cell phone out of his pocket, focusing on your wet, abused hole. " — Oh, you little slut," he grows. " —I love the way you look when my cock stretches you out like this Ah- Fuck sweetheart-" And just as you're about to fall, he slows down once again, prolonging your ecstasy, the buildup almost unbearable. "—Not yet, my dear," he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with wicked delight. "—You will come when I say so. Only when I give you permission."

♡— Wesker will take several photos of your body covered in semen, in compromising positions and with his dick in your mouth, videos, gifs or any digital media available, he will manipulate and chat you so that you are always his, always stay on his side.

" — You will never run away from me, my little pet... Or else... Your father and all your family, friends... They will know what a whore you are, so just be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boys/girls don't think."

©𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇 2023

[yumeka-sxf]

Henderson and Martha backstory in today's new chapter...was not expecting that, but it was really good! I know people were shipping them before, but now the ship has really set sail 😅

So Martha is the origin of Henderson's "Elegant" catchphrase...how cute, lol.

Now we know why Henderson was so shocked when Becky said this! 😂

I'm not into reading fanfics, but I still got some "Twiyor Eden AU" vibes from this chapter!

I see some of Twilight in young Henderson: Twilight is constantly conflicted with keeping up his spy persona despite growing feelings for his family, just like Henderson was obsessed with perfectly upholding the rules of Eden...until he started to realize that even the prestigious school was being corrupted.

Also similarly, Twilight's realization about the need for information, which eventually led to him becoming a spy, is just like Henderson's realization about the need for education, which led to him becoming a teacher.

And still another similarity is Henderson becoming so obsessed with his pursuit of education that he cast aside desires of wanting to have fun and enhance relationships with others...just as Twilight has been doing since he became a spy. But it seems like present day Henderson realized how ignorant he was back then...maybe Twilight will eventually realize this about himself as well?

I've mentioned many times before that I love how Endo is able to so seamlessly bring darker themes into otherwise non-dark stories, which makes the setting, characters, etc, more interesting. Even in something so simple like the short mission with Bond last chapter where he gives a glimpse into the horrors of animal experimentation, in this chapter he brings in themes of impending war and corrupt education in what would otherwise be a benign school romance story.

Looks like this arc will continue with at least another chapter, possibly more! I'm still curious to see how Martha ended up becoming a soldier and eventually working for the Blackbells. Or maybe she ended up being part of Garden, as some people theorize. Regardless, I really don't think ballet stayed her main focus throughout her life. Also, didn't Henderson eventually get married and have a child later on? Hope we'll learn even more about them in the next chapter!

[deadbeat-motel]

ᗩᑎGEᒪ ᗪᑌᔕT ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

Me going talky-talky below the cut

I wanted to redesign this guy the most because of so many issues I have with his actual design, namely:

The suit is a travesty.... for both his background as a hypersexual porn actor and a previous mafia member. It does not read well as a good design for an Italian mobster of the 1920s. Do you really not think he would rock a pinstripe? I mean come on, those three horizontal lines on his suit look really tacky to me. You should've taken that pinstripe suit from Sir Pentious and given it to him instead. and not only that but it doesn't even read well as a porn actor who has no qualms about being sexualized and pretty much even revels in it. why does the suit basically cover him up like a conservative politician? come on, let him show off a bit more.

WHY A BOWTIE??? WHY??? A SIMPLE GOOGLE SEARCH WILL SHOW YOU THAT A NECKTIE WAS MORE IN FASHION DURING THAT TIME RATHER THAN A BOWTIE. The bowtie was something that pissed me off so much about the design.

He's not a very good spider design. the only thing about him that looks remotely spider-like is that he has those eye dots under the eyes and the many limbs.... nothing else. not the very large abdomen or the actual 4 pairs of limbs a spider is supposed to have. Not even a web pattern on him like Spiderman who embodies "spider" more than him.

YOU TOOK THE FLOOF OFF OF HIM??? THE ICONIC FLOOF???? unacceptable. In retaliation, I'm giving it back bigger than ever you coward!

Anyways, here's the thought process I went through with this design:

He needed to embody his Mafia/porn addict themes through his clothing so I went with an outfit that looks like a slutty Halloween costume of a mobster. Plus it would have also differentiated him from his family who most likely would've had a stronger Mafia vibe than he did.

Gave him a tiny little hat too because i thought it looked cute.

I remember hearing that Angel Dust's most iconic part was his head's unusual shape, so I decided to keep it on him but tweaked it a little bit with his hair covering the other half of his face. (This was for some kind of lore reason, maybe he's insecure about his heterochromia, That's where he was shot and has an X over it, or his eyes are malformed on that side, still thinking about it)

Originally was going to have matching black gloves for his arms too but then it was harder to see what was his arm or leg so I let him have nothing instead to keep the pairs of limbs separated

Gave him some hoop rings too because why not let a bad bitch have one?

I've seen necktie cat collars go around earlier and thought it would fit well for Angel Dust considering I didn't give him a shirt and that i took off his choker as well.

Aside from a MASSIVE flooff, I also gave him a massive spider "butt" with the missing pair of limbs. I decided to make it legs because honestly, It's much harder to think of how he would emote naturally with 6 arms. Plus it was interesting to think about how a 4 legged bipedal would work. Immediately my first thought went to Squidward Tentacles from both the show and the musical but then it wouldn't work because of the complexity of the legs. It's main purpose now is to both hold up the large spider "butt" and be his self-defense when being approached from behind.

Originally was going to have those big ass claw things on his mouth (I'm most likely wrong but the 'chelicerae' thing?) but thought it would clutter the design too much and because there was a big possibility that Val probably ripped them off of him when he had bitten once, if not multiple times, in self-defense.)

I'll probably talk about him more when he pops up in an episode I'm going to go in-depth about or give him his own dedicated rant about how Vivziepop treated his story.

[thiscoldheart]

some details that i loved in la chimera (spoiler heavy) :

i posted this on twitter as well but i wanted to include it here too. i love this little moment here where italia rests her head on arthur's shoulder and for a brief moment, he's anchored to the present by that touch, but him being the orpheus that he is, just HAD to turn back and find himself gravitating towards the tombs, the past and his eurydice.

the fact that italia's name is literally italy in italian and by the end of the movie she creates a community of her own where she's looking out for those that are outcasted by society, in an abandoned train station named riparbella which literally means "to start again".

arthur's eye always being blocked by shadow throughout the movie until he sees the light at the very end

according to wiki, the goddess the statue is based on is cybele, goddess of nature, animals, wild places and represents the "creative and destructive force of nature." her phrygian name matar (mother) alludes to the fact that she was a "mediator between the boundaries of the known and unknown, the civilized and the wild, the worlds of the living and the dead." i love that this goddess' presence in the movie symbolizes arthur traversing between the living and the dead worlds and getting closer to beniamina. i love that by the end of the movie, the statue itself becomes unknown to human eyes and returns to the wild, far away from civilization, which is arguably the same fate that arthur meets as he dies.

the red string that's following arthur around is very reminiscent of the red string ariadne gives theseus to find his way through the maze. it's beautiful how this red string seems to appear only in his dreams at first but slowly starts crossing the boundaries of dreams and reality as the movie goes on until he is able to tug at it by the end and cross over into beniamina's world.

arthur, at the beginning of the movie, says "so it's you. my last woman's face." how cool is it that beniamina's face resembles cybele's?

arthur goes back to flora's house after being injured and her daughter finds him in the bathroom. spooked, she says "i thought it was a ghost" which arthur might as well be considering how he's essentially been a walking corpse this entire movie.

also a special shout out from the bottom of my heart to the sped up sequences, didn't even realize how badly i needed them until i saw them. the chaos in these sequences is everything to me. this is REAL cinema!

in general, one of the themes that i've come to love about this movie is how objects can have different meanings to everyone. an object like the bell arthur found was just "a thing that rings" whereas italia interprets it as a gift until she comes to realize it's been excavated from a grave. the statue was part of a shrine back when it was made, but to the tombaroli and the sellers, this is only a means to make more money. the train station started off as a place that symbolizes movement of people from the city to the countryside but has now become a home for the outcasts of society. the apotropaic phallus would've have warded off evil and bad luck back in the day, but is now used as a means of escape from the law. a simple red string is the literal lifeline for arthur as he tries to find his way back to his lover.

also want to give another shout out to the inclusion of the italian troubadours (our greek chorus) who beautifully spell out the tragedy of our protagonist and his gang.

speaking of music, i really liked this particular song italia was singing as she was practicing. the lyrics go "i'd like to explain to you, o god/ where my suffering lies/ but fate condemns me to weep/ to weep" and that's exactly when arthur finds her crying son. at least italia finds a way for her suffering to end by the end of the movie. maybe we can say the same about arthur too?

i'll probably add more as i keep rewatching the movie lol and make a thread of this on twitter too (x) thanks for sticking around and let me know what other cool details y'all noticed!

[leviathanxprincess]

Hii idk if ur requests are open (if not ignore!!) but maybe first date ideas? (Specifically with Mammon and Beelzebub if that’s ok!!) thank youuu :) <3

Don't worry they're open !!!! And I got you! <3 this is a cute little request I like it <3 Notes: Gender neutral reader!, typical hints at things getting spicier after the date

Your First Date with Mammon and Beelzebub !

Mammon

King of dates !

He can take you anywhere and everywhere that you desire, and he will!

For a first date though he's keeping it simple. Well, simple for Mammon.

And simple for Mammon means the fanciest restaurant in Hell that one can come by.

Think the most delicious meal you could possibly have and he WILL get it for you.

It's a first date, sure, but he's gonna spoil you a little bit already.

Beautiful bouquet, maybe some piece of jewelry or accessory that he knows you're likely to wear. He more than knows your style by this point.

Will take you on a walk through his favorite places in Tartaros afterwards, desires to show you the place where you're obviously gonna be spending the most time in now that you're together.

You will be getting the full "I am dating the King of Tartaros" treatment even though it's the first date.

He just really likes to see you happy. And the cost quite literally means nothing to him because he has everything. So if he can bring a smile to your face he'll glad dish out whatever amount he feels he needs to.

And well, if he gets a little something extra out of it too after your date, then he's not exactly complaining. <3

Beelzebub

See Bel could either take you on a really sweet first date or an absolute insane one.

Likelihood is it's gonna be a mixture of both!!

He wants you to have fun, and even with a date he's not exactly the best at sitting still so you're likely to do more than one activity.

First off! Probably one of his favorite clubs! Of course if it's a bit too much for you you guys can skip it, you can go dancing just about anywhere after all! But he does want to dance with you!

And he if gets a little touchy in the club (or wherever you decide to go) then it's so fine. He can't help but love having his hands on you at all times.

Next stop, one of his favorite places to get a meal! And by meal I mean a feast. It's a feast. He'll tell you fun little stories about his adventures as you two eat, and even share ideas of places he's gone that he wants to take you! Which is plenty.

Honestly if you didn't have such an important job currently as Solomon's Descendant he would be dragging you around everywhere. Which is exactly what he plans to do any date opportunity you guys get from now on.

Probably leaves the tab for Bael to deal with (rip him). And immediately whisks you off to whatever sort of theme park they have in Hell.

Takes you on any ride he can possibly get you on. If you say no to anything adrenaline inducing it's fine, but if you decide to go he gets excited hoping that you'll hold onto him tightly.

If you don't he's slightly pouty, but he's still happy you're having fun!!!

Will win a couple of prizes for you, naturally. He's gotta show off a little bit!

Will round off the date by taking you back to Gehenna, will give you a kiss and leave if you desire, however, if you wanna have a little bit more fun, he can stick around for a bit long as well.

[p3sephone]

No escape (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: Natasha and Steve found a common interest, and that is you. But then you say things like you want to break up, and then escape. So, of course they take you back, and then make sure you understand the hardest way you can't really leave them.

Warnings: past non-con, physical and psychological abuse, manipulation, Natasha is a warning herself, kidnapping, drugging, future non-con implied, dark thought on reader. This is a dark story with dark themes, so minors are NOT ALLOWED, only +18. I don't own these characters.

Note: okay so, I kinda have a little thought about turning this into a serie or at least make part 2. What do you think? Anyway, any comment, like or reblog is truly appreciated. <3 Requests are open!

She didn't know what was going through her mind. It was something crazy what she had just done, and yet Natasha continued to drive towards her desolate destination while your helpless and drugged body was in the back of the seats. She had to admit, she had always been determined and rigid in her decisions, but even she wavered sometimes. Especially when it came to you. But you were so stubborn, what was she supposed to do?

You had left her. You had left her and Steve. She still remembered the conversation from days ago.

"I want to break up."

They were extremely simple words, but coming out of your mouth they were truly surreal. Natasha focused directly on you with an expressionless look, while Steve was already getting more nervous as he started to walk towards you. Natasha had always been the one who talked less than Steve: she was the one more inclined to inflict punishments and make you cry, Steve agreed with her but only when necessary.

If it were up to Natasha, you would have been locked up in that New York apartment at all hours and without the possibility of leaving. She remembered how your relationship was at the beginning: you, Steve and her. It had been born spontaneously, or rather, well, Natasha had perhaps manipulated more than a few things to ensure that the three of you ended up together and that Steve would give her more support when it came to having a firm hand on you.

If only she had had her way, those stupid words would never have come out of your mouth. Steve immediately asked the reasons and Natasha made a face of contempt at you. No, she was not willing to get into that conversation, because there was nothing to discuss: you would not have moved from there, far from them. She had to remind you that, even before Steve, Natasha had seen you for the first time. You were hers. Then the blond noticed you and Natasha didn't mind sharing with him, also because she knew she needed help in the early days because she knew we would get to this point without the right discipline.

"I don't feel good in this relationship anymore, I want… I want the life I had before." Natasha understood how uncertain you were when talking and did what she knew how to do best: manipulate you. She had manipulated you in every way, listing every single thing they had done for you, how well they treated you not only during your daily routine, but also during the nights you spent alone before.

That day she remembered that made you cry a lot, from humiliation. You felt humiliated deep down and somehow you knew that Natasha and Steve were wrong, but your body didn't have the strength to pull back from the long session of suffocating cuddles they forced you to after that argument.

Natasha remembered all of that vividly. Yet, her manipulation, her ways, even her kindness and mercy towards you hadn’t been enough to keep you confined in that apartment. Somehow that adorable head of yours had managed to find a way to escape from them. Steve was the first to discover it, and he felt mostly concern, followed by sadness and anger. Natasha knew Steve: he was a good guy, but if you pressed the right spots he became exactly like her. And Natasha didn’t need the Steve who was kind and adorable to you, she needed the other Steve, the same one you had dealt with one night when you had decided to reject them both in bed and insulted them. You had suffered some bruises and a bad headache, but Natasha remembered how well you had behaved in the days that followed.

Natasha’s mind suddenly cleared. She had done the right thing, she had followed you to that bar and drugged your soft drink, she had finally dragged you away without your dumb friends noticing anything. Oh, she would fix them later, but first she needed to teach you a lesson. She sneered wickedly. She just had to press that button. So, she called Steve. The infamous captain didn't take long to answer, looking all worried.

"Steve, I got her back. I'm taking her to our plan b, that place you know about." Natasha didn't even give him time to speak and continued in a stiff, angry voice. "Do you know where she was? She wasn't in danger. She was with her friends, in a bar and dressed in a shabby way. She had a man on her and she was completely ready for his attentions, you have no idea how she was dancing. She dressed like we always forbade her to, she drank and accepted a bag of… I don't know, but I took her out of there. I did the right thing, didn't I, Steve?"

Natasha didn't need an answer. She had actually lied: you weren't doing any of that, you were just talking to your friends and when a man approached you you politely rejected him like the beautiful little girl you are.

But Natasha had to make you understand that there were consequences if you ran away from them, and Steve would never guarantee those consequences unless she said the things he hated the most.

Natasha thought you were cute in those short, skimpy dresses, it just made her want to rip them off, Steve preferred a more conservative part. Natasha hated it when anyone else paid attention to you, Steve did the same. Natasha liked you when you were drunk because you couldn't remember what she did to you during that time, Steve… well, he might be lying but he actually liked you too, even if with more guilt.

"I'm coming." Steve didn't give Natasha time to say anything else, he had already hung up. The red-haired woman looked at your poor, still helpless and unaware figure in the mirror. You had no idea what was waiting for you but Natasha did, and she was going to savor every second of it. You'll never leave her again, she'll make sure of it.

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: what do you owe yourself big time?

I channeled these messages with the intention to aid self love and the connection to self for all those who come across this. Hope it does just that. Happy reading!

Pile 1 to 3- left to right

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Pile number 1:

What do you owe yourself?

Grace. You owe yourself grace, sweetheart. You've been doing SO much (be it physically, mentally, or spiritually), and even though you're exhausted, you simply power through. You might feel like there is an invisible standard that you need to hold yourself to, for whatever reason, which might keep you stuck in your head. You may be grappling with perfectionism too. You might even accidentally fall into analysis-paralysis (too much thinking and not enough doing), which is keeping you in the frequency of resistance to the abundance that the universe is ready to give you as a result of ALL the work you've put in right now. You might feel like life is getting a little dry, and everything seems like drudge-work and as if it's sucking the life out of you (in extreme cases). So what I see you owe yourself right now is some self-love, the permission to rest, and the grace of knowing that you've been hard on yourself as a result of a wound that is now ready to be healed. Your healing needs your attention right now; you need your attention right now.

How do you give what you owe yourself?

Reflect on why you keep yourself so busy, pile 1. Maybe reflect on it a little? Is it coming from a healthy place or a wound or societal conditioning? What makes you think taking care of yourself is secondary to anything else in the world? If it's your work-life that's keeping you in this rut, try working in some "me time" into your routine when you can simply breathe and be alone by yourself and marinate in your energy. Even for about like 5 minutes would be a great start. Doing some simple breathing exercises like the 2X breath (breathe in for 4 - hold for 2 - breathe out for 8) could help you MASSIVELY, and it won't even disrupt your routine to do like a couple of cycles of these. This will help clear out some mental clutter, which will greatly improve your quality of life. It's 20% effort to get 80% results. What's not to like? If you had a meditation routine, you could resume that again as well, and if you didn't, now is a great time to begin. Try whatever ones that call out to you. Your intuition has always been a powerful guide to you. The trick to giving yourself what you need right now is making it feel like it's very little effort and not another chore for you to get done with. Love, light, and hugs, sweet soul.

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Pile number 2:

What do you owe yourself?

A chance to recuperate. You might have lost something/someone recently and haven't been able to give yourself the chance to grieve it fully yet. That's what you owe yourself, big time right now. You really wanted something to work out here and were super excited about it, but it ended up disappointing you instead. I'm so sorry, pile 2. Allow yourself to grieve this. Feel into it to heal yourself from it. I'm getting that if it was a love situation that ended, it was for your highest good because the person you were dealing with had secrets of some kind, and you didn't need another person with hidden agendas around you (that was very specific, take it as it resonates). You are making space for a more pure kind of love as you grieve this old connection. You will gain a lot of clarity after you have grieved this situation. You might get hit with a lot of epiphanies about the situation and maybe even some blessings from the universe. I'm not getting anything specific in terms of that because it's probably different for each of you reading, but it's mostly around the themes of love and emotional well-being. You are headed towards a situation that will replace your current loss and bring you some much-needed fulfillment and relief. You might even stumble into some success in your work life too if that's a desire of yours.

How do you give what you owe yourself?

It's really simple. Throw yourself a pajama party for one and watch sad movies, cry your pretty heart out, and embrace this loss. Also, I hear - "Is it a loss or a redirection?" Reflecting on that question could help you get some of those epiphanies I talked about earlier.

Love, light, and hugs, sweet soul.

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

Pile number 3:

What do you owe yourself?

Some fun. I feel like y'all need some much-needed fun because it honestly feels like y'all have been holding your breath for a while (proverbially), like you were waiting on something to happen or just waiting in general for something good to happen so you could relax and have fun. But the thing is, pile 3, you're supposed to make this thing you really want to happen, happen for you. You may believe nothing good happens to you, and this belief in particular is hindering your ability to actively create the things you want in your life. After all, taking aligned actions is an important step in manifestation. You owe yourself aligned action. Taking actions however small towards your desires is exactly what you need right now. The challenge here is that you might not know what you want right now, and that's something you have to actively take on. Side note: You might have had to take on different identities for different people to survive childhood (for some people) or simply to get through life in general, and this has left you feeling detached from yourself, but you're learning how to "come back home" to yourself now. Which is wonderful pile 3, yay!

How do you give what you owe yourself?

Start to take an active interest in learning about yourself and about your likes and dislikes. Spend some time by yourself away from the burdens of others' expectations from you. Reflect on the origins of your lack mentality, and by that, I simply mean - ask yourself why you believe good things can't happen to you. Is it because you think you don't deserve it? This could lead to some revelations about yourself which will further empower you to pour into yourself and nurture your energy, which will inevitably lead you to develop deep and profound inner peace along with a sense of groundedness within yourself, which is also something you owe yourself big time. You'll find that new pathways start to open up for you where once you found dead-ends (specific message, take it only if that one resonates).

Love, light, and hugs, sweet soul.

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

[velvetures]

Helluuuu!! I saw your post about sending requests and mine is actually a really simple one cause I don't have a creative but I just though about a ghost hurt/comfort story

Little Secrets

A/N: So this is very self-indulgent... I hope you don't mind. I think there are quite a few people who struggle with taking meds for depression/anxiety or feel guilty for it. Me included. Hopefully, this helps everyone feel valid, seen, and supported. Summary: Task Force 141 is where you belong. But it doesn't make the work easy by any means. You finally get the help you need and try hiding it. Ghost notices and is the one who sets you straight. T/W: depression/anxiety themes, medication, guilt, insecurity of reader, fem reader, and I'm sure I've missed something, so let me know.

photo by: pedropcl

You couldn't keep fighting it for any longer.

Staring down at the two orange bottles of pills in your hands and the directions packets in the other, you felt like you'd failed despite the psychiatrist you'd spoken to reassure you that this was certainly not a failure. Your brain kept refuting that this was a step in the right direction. Working as a professional and legal murderer should've meant you had no feelings. No failures of regulating your emotions or having such miserable trouble falling asleep at night. That nice woman who'd put the prescription in for you said it would take two to three weeks to see a difference. It felt like no time, yet an eternity all at once. Relief felt so far away, but insignificant compared to other people you often compared your personal struggles with.

You weren't homeless, you could eat without worrying, you had clothes and shoes all of the time, and never needed to wonder if you would have enough money to take care of your responsibilities. Education hadn't been a problem, you were well-respected despite being a woman in such a male-dominated field and kept up with your work extremely well. At least, when your brain decided to deny that you had the ability to do anything. Or... repeatedly try to convince you that nothing you did was worth a damn or actually made you useful. Vicious cycles of fighting with your own brain, knowing that you shouldn't feel or think this way but have no strength or way of stopping. None of the "hacks," meditations, or affirmation bullshit touched that panicky feeling you had mere minutes after laying down at night.

The pills shaking around in your hands were your last resort. And they made you feel so fucking embarrassed as you tucked them in your pockets before entering back into HQ. Praying to god that none of the 141 would see you with them or hear that slight sound of them rattling in their bottles. By grace or luck, you were able to avoid all of them and got back to your quarters to stash them under your bed in a small ammo box repurposed for some personal belongings. The directions you'd thrown away on your drive back, just taking a picture of them for reference and ditching the paper copies so you wouldn't have to keep track of those.

"This better fucking help," You breathe out heavily to yourself.

Staring up at the ceiling and almost dreading having to take one tonight before bed and the other when you wake up the next morning. Daily reminders of how you couldn't be hard and cold like the others. Cool and collected like Gaz, confident like Soap, unaffected like Ghost, or just so very reliable like Price. It made you feel like the weak link needing support. You'd never needed it before, and within two years you'd suddenly realized that your own mind was winning in a fight you'd never even been aware of fighting in the first place.

Keeping all of them in the dark about this would be safest. If they didn't need to question your stability, then it wouldn't feel like such pressure to perform. And hopefully, after a few weeks, things might start to shift a little. Maybe enough to where you could begin sorting out the other problems without the image of a cluttered attic representing the state of your head. Taking care to not raise the alert of the 141 wouldn't be easy. Always noticing everything out of sheer training and sharpened instincts. Having no other good ideas... You just settled on doing everything you could to keep your little secrets under wraps.

In the following couple of days, you’d become adjusted to the routine of taking your medications on the surface level. While the one tasked with easing you anxiety and depression wasn’t going to take effect for quite a while longer the other -a sleeping aid- was definitely making a significant impact. You were able to actually fall asleep and stay that way, problem was, with a couple missions impending in the near future, you were getting concerned that if you took them when you were supposed to -on a schedule- that staying awake would be next to impossible. And if you didn’t take them at all… you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of breaking a much more healthy habit.

And the reason you were so worried about the missions was because of a reoccurring problem that the 141 began finding you falling victim to. Thankfully you were all on leave, making it a lot more acceptable, but they still began walking into different rooms around HQ to see you sleeping soundly. No matter the noise level, temperature in the room, or the space you’d fit yourself into. And no one was quite as intrigued with your sudden change in behavior was the Lieutenant.

Ghost liked things to have order, and often used regiment or habit as a very small form of comfort when he felt that his physical situation was one that could be trusted. And while the others just thought you’d found a new safety in HQ and enjoyed sleeping somewhere safe, Ghost could see that something much different was happening. Your sleeping wasn’t a new habit.

It appeared far too quickly, and you oftentimes didn’t look like you had much control over it. There had already been three times where he’d watched you fall asleep on one of the guys late in the evening without as much as a single attempt to fight the drowsiness. While Ghost didn’t like to think that he cared that much about you, he found himself paying even closer attention to you than he had before.

“There she goes…” Soap chuckled quietly, pointing to you on the couch; head laying in Captain Price’s lap, eyes closed and sleeping deeply with your arms tucked against your chest and lying on your side.

Price had a loving hand on your head, and had been idly petting your hair much like a father would despite being hardly of age to act it. Yet, Ghost felt that Price’s warmth towards you wasn’t the entire reason you had yet again fallen asleep before 11 o’clock. Purposefully he’d been keeping count, and this was the fifth time in a week. More than enough to raise alarm with the others… but he was still waiting silently for someone else to bring it up.

Price chuckled, glancing down at you. “I carried her to bed last time,” His pointed look at each of them was more than enough to guess what he was about to say. “Someone else needs to, otherwise you’ll be voluntold.”

Ghost internally groaned. Not only was that kind of behavior what made people soft, but it also made seeing through the mask of affection far more difficult. But before Soap or Gaz took initiative, the Lieutenant was up on his feet and approaching Price with every intention of being the one to take you back to your quarters. Looks got thrown around the room, and Ghost wasn’t stupid enough to not notice. It was the first time he’d gotten this involved, and there was certainly a spectacle of him picking you up carefully enough to not wake you.

Even though he was quite certain it would take a lot more to get you up than that.

Your door opened up into warm, glowing light from a little lamp you’d left switched on. He catches sight of your quilt on the bed and the little rug that made the polished concrete floors look so much less like the jail cell his own quarters resembled. The whole room smelled like you too. Sweet, and a lot like cinnamon rolls. Probably some type of candle or other smelly thing that you had thought was worth spending money on. Plenty more reasons added to the list of what separates the two of you. Debating your differences or the reason you preferred your quarters smelling like a bakery wasn’t his purpose for bringing you back to your room.

But even with laying you down on your bed and pulling the sheet and blankets over you, Ghost wasn’t seeing any of the possible signs that could lead him to better understand what was going on with you. Nothing is out of place though. Your room is pretty much spotless save for a sleep outfit you’d laid out for tonight, but wouldn’t have the chance to get changed into. And right about the time Ghost decided he’d been looking into your business too much, he bumped into your nightstand.

It knocked something off into the floor, bouncing under the bed and clattering a bit.

Ghost sighed, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling and having quite the frustrating experience of dealing with the sudden responsibility of making sure you were cared for. And that meant picking up whatever shit he’d been too busy watching you, to not knock somewhere under the bed he’d have to fish around and find. So he knelt down and pulled his phone from his pocket and used the flash to spot a tube of chapstick near the bed frame foot.

That, and an ammo box with your initials spray-painted onto the side of it.

Compared to everything else, it didn’t look like it fit amongst the rest of your things. And damn if Ghost didn’t have a sudden gut feeling that it was the reason you’d been sleeping so much. Why you’d been so out of character; Setting his teeth on edge. Reaching out… Ghost grabbed the lip balm and got back to his feet and sit it down on the nightstand where it couldn’t be as easily disturbed again.

“G’night kid.” His whispers fell on your unconscious ears as your Lieutenant dismissed himself from your room and back down to his own space.

***

You woke up in your bed after falling asleep somewhere unintentionally, for the who-knows-which time. Just like before, left in whatever clothes you’d been wearing and all of your blankets tucked up tightly around you. It left a lingering sense of disappointment in yourself. A little pinch of sadness rested like a rock in your stomach. You couldn’t really remember falling asleep to begin with. If you ended up keeping this little habit going, there’d be no doubt you would risk everyone on a mission falling asleep at the drop of a hat.

All because of this damn medicine.

One that you needed to grab from under your bed, and sneak into the kitchen so that you could have some water and food. You'd seen one of the tens of sites -during your research of your pills- that it would help digest it better... whether it actually worked or not wasn't something you could tell. But either way, a doctor had said it, and plenty of people taking it agreed. So you grabbed the pill, shoved it in your pocket, and went out into the kitchen to find a glass.

The floors felt cold even with socks on. And while a steady rain poured from the sky, you were more heated with concern that someone would notice you. Notice your sleeping issues, the way you crawled around in the morning for the first couple hours before the pills began working, or the shady way you hid your face in the refrigerator while swallowing down your medication. Surely the stuff had to be working since you'd not been struggling to get your work done throughout the day. But maybe that was the hard part. Taking pills to fix your head, but needing your brain to recognize whether or not you felt better.

"Oh god help me..." You mutter quietly, searching past Soap's energy drinks and Gaz's revolting jug of green juice to find something you could make for breakfast.

A cabinet door shutting behind you nearly stopped your heart. Seeing Ghost's dark eyes evaluating your reaction didn't make your heart rate drop back to normal either. In his typical day-off wear, a pair of well-worn jeans hung low on his hips and an old SAS t-shirt you'd seen him wear countless times stretched tightly over his chest and shoulders. No doubt he'd been up since four. Quite certain he never actually slept, you wondered momentarily if he could benefit from the sleeping tabs you took. But quickly that got covered in anxiety when his eyebrows furrowed at your expression.

"Nothin' to eat?" He asked with a smooth voice, nodding to the refrigerator door you still held open dumbly.

"N-no... just a bunch of shit drinks." You reply, letting the door shut and noticing that he's got a brown bag with grease spots at the bottom corners. He just nods, looking off into the empty common room. Like he's trying to think of the right way to talk shit about both Gaz and Soap's bad choices in hydration.

"Sit. I've got enough to share." He jerks his head to the other side of the counter, turning that wide back to face you, leaving no room for argument.

You're swallowing down a thick bite of a bagel with god-knows-what in British style as Ghost brews tea. Silently making you a cup as well and standing stiffly with both milk and sugar on the table with the expectancy that you tell him how you like it. Not really unusual behavior from him... typically you get along just fine. But it's the fact that he watches so heavily.

"Just sugar, please." You say through a mouthful, covering your mouth with your hand.

He nods, but then starts putting the sugar in, mentioning something about fucking Americans before sliding the mug closer to you with a couple of fingers. Those damned eyes are just as observant as ever when you crumple up the finished sandwich before he even steeps his own drink. It made you nervous. Wondering if those pills were helping with your appetite too. The psychiatrist said it could; Something about feeling less stressed can give your body more opportunities to worry about being hungry. It was one of those facts on the medication packet you'd taken pictures of.

"Plans for today, L.t.?" You ask, sipping the tea, eyes grazing over the cup rim as you stare at the back of his head.

Mask rucked up high enough to eat and drink freely he nods his head. Leaning his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter

and resting one hand back.

“Yeah, you?”

You shake your head uselessly, “No. Maybe some laundry, but I’m not really even due. Wouldn’t be worth the water in the machine.”

He hums lowly, taking a drink of his tea. You can hear his swallow and a steady exhale of air that follows. Whether it’s him cooling off the steaming cup or just breathing, you cant tell. But it’s so steady that you actually mimic the tempo of it. Feeling the way it expands and contracts your lungs smoothly. Almost settling. Much like L.t. himself in that way. Terrifying until you see just how easily you can be around him. He’s always quiet and composed, even when there’s plenty of reasons not to be. You wished it was something you could do too. Maybe it would help the task force if you didn’t have to spend your energy keeping yourself at an unnoticeable level of consistent panic.

“Know anythin’ about cars?”

“No,” You’re quick to add on. “But I can learn fast.”

You watch the way the back of his mask slides down further and how his head tilts from side to side to settle it comfortably. Seeing the rest of the tea get dumped into the sink and his own sandwich bag get crumpled up. He’s silent as he washes the cups used and methodically cleans up after the pair of you. Even reaching across the counter to swipe a couple of crumbs off your t-shirt with a subtle nod to his own satisfaction.

“I like to hear it,” His hand palmed at the back of your neck. Gently tugging you off the barstool, and grabbing your jacket to toss it to you. “You’re comin’ with me then.”

Learning about cars actually became quite easy… when Ghost was teaching.

He explained the parts clearly, what his goal was, and didn’t get pissed when you handed him the wrong size socket wrench on the first try. On the other end, you’d only been working next to him -well, sitting on the wheel well- for a couple of hours when you started getting tired again. Almost helpless to your own frustration, you yawned. Fighting the sleepy feeling valiantly, and taking as detailed of mental notes as possible while watching Ghost’s greased knuckles tighten a bracket holding his master cylinder in place. Surely it was a cosmic joke. L.t. was fixing his brakes, and it felt like someone had stomped on yours.

“Hand me that,” He muttered, head stuck down in a gap between his engine block and alternator, still effortlessly pointing at a pair of channellocks. “And get in for me.”

You did as he asked, yawning one more time. Trying to blame your sudden exhaustion on the rain pelting the metal roof above you. Sliding into the back of the car and kicking off your boots to let them rest on the concrete floor outside of it. Attempting to be polite by not getting any dirty spots on the mats of the -very original- DB4 GT Aston he’d given you trust to even sit in. The leather seats help you glide into the driver’s seat, giving you a very slim look at Ghost through the gap in the hood.

“What exactly am I doing in here?” You ask, loud enough so that he can hear you.

It prompts his head to pop up from inside the engine bay, giving you those same, observant eyes from earlier. He looks back down, reaches in and taps on something harshly, then looks back to you.

“Roll it over.”

The car starts effortlessly. Practically purring under you, and echoing in the metal hangar making it sound all the more ruggedly beautiful. The whole car hums, and as you watch Ghost go back to focusing on something in front of him, you feel the heat come through the dash. It’s a perfect storm that lulls you even closer to sleep. A dangerous thing, considering the one man who could figure out what was wrong with you was the only one close enough to see. Hell, you weren’t even sure he didn’t already have it figured out, and wasn’t planning some way to tell Price about it and have you removed from the task force.

Unfit for duty.

You could just picture it now. Red pen in Price’s handwriting detailing your medications and how it was grounds from honorable discharge. Perfectly common in the military, but it felt like death in your hazy mind.

Not that you could fight it for much longer.

Because by the time the Lieutenant had finished his little bit of work, he came into sight of you, slumped over in his driver’s seat with you lips parted and your arms wrapped around yourself. Nothing short of a pretty sight for sore eyes. His car had damn near rocked you sleep, and for once, Ghost felt his heart couldn’t take the feeling of waking you up. He’d watched you all morning. Gauging your reactions, your lack of conversation, and the way you tried to keep from showing him any sign of being tired. Initially he wanted to be angry. Mad that you were hiding something from the team… from him. But seeing you sleeping there, he knew there was a fight in your head. A fight he knew well. So he left you there to sleep.

Turning off the engine to keep from filling the garage with exhaust, but pulling up one of the small space heaters close to the open door to keep you from getting cold while he worked. Making small adjustments, looking over future jobs, and even entertaining the thought of adjusting you over in the seat a little bit so that he could drive-test his handiwork. But that didn’t come, because Soap arrived with a grin on his face and no idea that you were sleeping.

Until Ghost told him to lower his goddamn voice.

“Sleepin’ again bonnie?” Soap chuckled to himself, looking at you before back to Ghost. “How long’s she been out?”

Ghost shrugged, “Few hours.” Really he hadn’t been watching the clock; far too comfortable to concern himself with it.

“I know you’ve been tryin’ to figure it out,” He started back, resting his hands on the hood. “Why she’s doin’ this so much. Have ya’?”

Ghost shook his head. “No. Not yet, but I’m not concerned.”

Johnny laughed softly, slapping Ghost on the back and beginning to walk away. “I never took you for the type to be worried, L.t.. But since you’re so reassurin’ I’ll take it t’heart.”

Any way Ghost came at that statement, he felt himself on the end of a losing battle. Maddening. Losing a fight wasn’t in his nature. Even if that meant he had to take some of the most fucked up torture to reach it. But what bothered him more than Soap knowing he was concerned about you was the knowing you weren’t okay.

Days out in the field were bad enough. But when they got worse, you were always there. And maybe you didn’t feel much better than he did, yet you always held softness. For everyone. For him. A kind of understanding and acceptance that wasn’t required, or exactly approved of in this line of work. You could keep a secret better than anyone he knew, and while he didn’t burden you with a single one of his, there was always the foreign comfort in being able to come with them if he wanted to. Hiding your own feelings wasn’t right though.

Selfish maybe. Thinking it was okay to linger in his own issues and still demand you give him yours.

But hiding behind his rank and position over you meant he could make that kind of decision without any questioning. A type of don’t fucking ask why that saved him face when carrying you from his car back to your room after you still hadn’t woken up nearly seven hours after passing out in his car. Shouldering open the door just like the night before, he expected to see nothing out of place. The same lip balm on the side table, the same rug, and maybe a different night shirt since you’d mentioned doing laundry. But there was something out of place. And damn if it didn’t make his gut twist up in a ugly kind of feeling. One he’d not felt in years, but certainly recognized as soon as he spotted the orange pill bottle sitting on your bed.

It made sense.

The sleeping. The different behavior. The reason you’d practically swallowed a whole fucking sandwich for breakfast when a cup of tea would typically be all you stomached until afternoon. And thank god… you were finally starting to look a bit fuller. Getting prettier every day, and he finally had something to place the blame on. All hesitations about you being able to handle the upcoming missions faded once he got a good look at the bottle. A medication, funnily enough, that Ghost was well-acquainted with. It wasn’t part of his own personal line-up in his medicine cabinet, but it was one he’d taken for a while.

You’d been in need of some help, and luckily for you, it hadn’t been nearly as hard for you to get help as it had been for him. Actually asking for what you needed -and while frustrating- decided to try and manage it without anyone else’s knowledge. Ghost couldn’t think of a better scenario. Realizing that the only thing he needed to know about was your side effects, and how to best manage them alongside you. Thank fuck you weren’t sick… well… sick in a way that someone couldn’t help you with. A way that he couldn’t help.

So, he sit down in on the floor in your room and waited.

Your wake-up call came in the form of sleepy eyes opening to see the massive silhouette of Ghost sitting in your floor. Dark eyes much softer than you’d expected, and a much more concerning sight of your pill bottle resting in his massive hand. A sight that sat you up ramrod straight in your bed, gasping softly and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell Price.” You sputter, rushing to get the words out of your mouth. Terrified that he’s going to get up and run out the door. Just sitting long enough to let you get a good look at his plan before exposing you to the Captain as some sick kind of satisfaction.

His eyes narrow a little, “Don’t tell Price?” His voice sounds hoarse. “Don’t tell Price?”

It sounds that much more broken and gritty when he repeats it. Standing up to meet you a bit more level, fisting the pills in his hand, and lightly making them shake. He can’t understand your fear. Completely blind to the fact that -much like him- you’re fearful of being shamed. Misunderstood for it. Or worse. Ghost can’t recognize why you’re looking at him as if he’s going to be the reason your life ends. When in all reality, you don’t see how he’s trying to figure out why you didn’t feel safe coming to him.

“You’ve been takin’ these… fallin’ asleep on everyone, and-and struggling for who knows how the fuck long…” It’s hard for Ghost to keep his tone even, thinking about it. “Why didn’t you tell me. you should’ve told me. Said something. Anything.”

Caving in on itself, your chest burns. Eyes locked on his and scanning every confusing moment of emotion and each shift as it comes and goes.

“You wouldn’t…”

Ghost takes a fast step closer, “I wouldn’t what?” His hand drops the pills on the bed and quickly grabs your face, soft fingers pressing into your jaw. “I wouldn’t get it? I wouldn’t do what you needed me to? Wouldn’t let you sleep on me?”

Your lips open in surprise at the softness in him. All of him. The gentleness of his fingers, how his eyes lay silkily on you. Even his voice, falling so softly despite it’s rough tone and deep sound, feels like he’s terrified of you being scared away from him. Like that gentle hold on your face is all he can manage, and he’d rather do anything other than let you pull away from it.

“You have to know…” he starts weakly. “You have to know that - that I would do… anything you needed me to. Anything to make this easier for you. Even somethin’ small, I’d do it for you, honey.”

reblogs & comments are appreciated 🤎

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me (part four)

Part one, part two, part three

The end of Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren yayyyy I'm sooo excited to have the rest of my brain back!!! IT'S FINALLY OVER (mostly).

A very long and nonsensical string of writing thoughts and notes on it will be posted much later. Also if anyone wants to ask questions I can answer them in the infodump or on discord if you want a more immediate response... I hope you enjoy da finale 👉👈 sorry this is my baby i really love talking about it but it was impossible til now fjdslkjflks

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

That mundane, quiet night had taken a turn for the better. You could barely move a muscle after trying to settle your curious desires for your devilish companion, though they still remained. The books and red string were put back where they belonged before you found yourself cradled in strong arms and curled under silken sheets.

Ren had brought you to rest in bed, arms keeping you securely nestled at their side. His bare chest felt incredibly warm against your cheek. The sound of their heart beat steadily, and you moved your head to hear it better. Mesmerizing, and comforting. 

“I'm… tired? Fatigued?” you muttered aloud. It was so hard to stay awake, your eyes kept fluttering. You’d never been quite so drained before.

He gently held your chin to look at you, smiling all the while. “Why do you think? You’re an absolutely ravenous angel. Were it not for that fatigue, you’d surely still have me pinned on the floor with your head thrown back in—”

“Hey!” you interrupted him. The casual way they said it had you suddenly embarrassed. Being aware of your newfound… ‘ravenous’ side was something else entirely.

“It was a wonderful sight, my love, little angel,” he sang your praises with adoration, ending at a word. That word. The one you didn’t know.

An odd little pet name you were all the more curious about.

“What's that word you keep saying?” you asked and his eyes suddenly widened. “I love all the endearing things you call me, but that one—I can't place it.”

“...Oh, love,” he whispered, muffled as they leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’m so sorry. I won't use it anymore.”

“Huh? Is it something bad?” You weren't sure what he meant by that, but you knew well and good they'd never say something cruel to you, let alone call you by a cruel word. Nonsensical as the question was, no other reason came to mind.

“Not at all. It's my favorite word,” his voice was soft, almost heartbroken. “I didn't think you'd forget it so soon… I'll tell you when you're ready, I promise. For now, you only need to rest.”

A simple nod in response on your part. You accepted the answer so easily. There was nothing to worry about anymore. With how exhausted you were from the act, sleep was a natural decision. You could talk in the morning. Or any morning after, you no longer minded. Eventually you'd leave, so what was another few days or weeks?

You settled in and closed your eyes, lulled to sleep by their heartbeat in your ear.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Cold. You woke up cold. Jolted awake from your own nightmare of falling, drowning in the endless clouds that you once walked upon with ease, only to land in the depths of the freezing ocean below you. With a hushed gasp, you sat up in bed.

The devil was asleep right beside you. Pink hair stained with eerie grays from the moon’s glow through the open window, horns so dark they almost blended into the shadows, ghastly inked patterns that crawled from their shoulders down to their hands. 

One of his was laced tightly with yours. 

You trembled as you slowly pried his fingers away, crawled backwards on the bed until you felt nothing under you and almost fell like that cursed dream.

But the same hands you struggled to get away from caught you. You found instant comfort in his touch, despite the disgust that climbed up your back when you woke—where did it come from? Why were you even trying to get away? 

“I've got you, it's alright,” Ren murmured softly. He guided you to stand, wrapping a wrinkled shirt over your naked shoulders along with his arms. You held on as tight as you could. Your fingers were shaking. 

“I need to—I need to go, Ren. Now,” you gasped into his chest. Your entire body was unsteady, vision blurred from tears you weren't capable of shedding. Whatever you were saying didn't make sense in your head. You needed to go… somewhere. You could picture the place—it had sunkissed clouds as far as the eye could see—but did it have a name?

He read your mind, gently offered the word you couldn't think of, “Heaven?”

There. Home. You nodded. 

“You'll only get hurt.”

“I already know I'll have to repent before my god,” you muttered sheepishly and pulled away, clutching the shirt like a cloak. His knowledge was vast as ever, but what did a demon know of heaven’s affairs? 

“No, little angel. If you even make it that far,” they cursed the realms under their breath and followed as you left the room in a sudden hurry. “They'll take whatever is left of your halo and wings.”

You didn't waste any time throwing open the cabin’s door and walking out into the cool night air. Forced to pause at the sight in front of you, you stared; the breathtaking field of flowers was fully blooming. They were finally as high as Ren promised, the tallest with their golden petals proudly on display in the hallowed shape of a halo.

The beauty only helped his words to sink in. Whatever is left of your halo and wings? You turned around, fully expecting him to be right behind you.

You were face to face as you questioned him, a bite of anger held in. “What do you mean?”

Blue eyes that only seemed paler in the night, once full of hatred for heaven, pooled with long lost grief. “You've fallen from their grace,” he said quietly.

“That doesn't happen.” You denied it quickly. Such a thing had never happened in all the histories of heaven, you at least knew that without ever reading those records. If what he said was true, it’d be common knowledge. A warning that all angels would heed.

“It does, because I—”

A bell rang in the darkened night sky above. Ren froze with unknown fear for a split second and hurriedly reached towards you, shouting something. Another bell obscured their voice, then another and another until the number grew to so many your thoughts drowned in their thunder. Someone was calling you home.

Before you even realized it your wings sprouted forth and threw the unbuttoned shirt he'd given you to the wind, bringing a burning anguish so suddenly intense to bloom in the middle of your back that you fell to your knees. Ren immediately kneeled in front of you. The pain and desperation in his voice pulled at your very core, except you couldn't understand a thing. The bells were so loud. You cried out sharply. It may as well have been silence from what little else you could hear. 

A cracking noise managed to cut through the clamor of the bells above. Translucent shards of stained glass dropped from your head and piled themselves in the dirt at your knees. There was so little of it but you recognized the golden shade, illuminated by the fire licking at your shoulders.

The halo that you'd gained once the library's doors had beckoned you. The few pieces that remained of it, anyway.

Your heart stopped, then started anew. A feeling worse than the holy fire that was turning your beloved wings from feathered grace to ash. He was right; you'd fallen long before this night.

A thousand bells began to still, one by one. You could start to hear Ren again, though only a few words were clear.

“...At night… Forgive… Happen… …Never wanted this for you.”

The last feather fell away into nothing, and the burning in your back, along with the bells, died with it. All the heat you could feel was the demon only inches away, his desolate gaze fixed to you.

You blinked, tear stained cheeks now icy from the salted wind blowing across the ocean. Bits and pieces came back as memories.

The simple, towering clouds that decorated the heavens far as the eye could see. A sun that shined brightly, an everlasting sunrise that greeted you no matter the day. The library that once seemed like paradise you were destined to guard for the rest of time. All echoes of the being that was no longer you.

Something was missing. 

“My… that word,” you whispered. He'd told you it was his favorite word. One that you’d forgotten. “... It was mine?”

He smiled as best he could. It didn't reach his eyes. “You remember it.”

“A little.”

“Then... let me say it for you?” he asked and you nodded. They leaned close, the word slowly leaving their lips with reverence, sadness, unwavering love.

Nothing about it sparked as familiar on the surface. But the word once belonged to you, that empty part inside understood it. Fresh tears welled in the corners of your vision. “When did they take it from me?”

Ren gently wiped your cheek as the tears overflowed again. “I don't know.”

“How—it was mine,” you repeated with a sob. You felt the cold seeping through you and huddled into his embrace. Their body felt more warm and inviting than anything around you. There was nothing—no one else you could ever reach out to anymore.

“I’m sorry. We only have eternity together, my love,” he breathed, tucking your head below his chin with a strangled noise. “I'll say it each and every day so you'll never forget it. I don't want to lose your name, either.”

[professional-yearner]

Hey! So now you've put scenes and idea's in my brain, like da brain worms. So I thought to share.

And now I'm thinking of the darling who gets bullied and picked on by the yandere troopers, and they bite and snark and push back, but eventually they're reputation is ruined, their friendship with the yandere's Perfect Beloved is severed, they lose their job and home and possibly their money/savings (slicers are terrifying and don't get enough credit). So they move away, to a whole other system/planet and start a new life. Cut all ties, close any accounts, remove any real way to contact them and go off to somewhere no one would think to look for them (not that anyone would, they believe). Nobody knows them, they don't know anybody, and it's pretty off-the-grid but quiet and peaceful. They rebuild their life, their confidence, and find peace and joy in this simple existence.

Meanwhile, the troopers are... conflicted. They have their Perfect Darling all to themselves, removed the problem, but... they're disappointed when there's no snarky greeting when they visit their Beloved at work and spend the entire shift just hanging around. There's no back-and-forth while they wait for their shift to end and they can take their Perfect Love out on the town or to the barracks or back to their place.

They... well, they miss the other person. What a shocking revelation it is! To miss their rival, the threat, the person they hated. Or, well, thought they hated. The group is confused, until one of them learns the phrase 'puppy love'.

Yes. That's what it was. Just puppy love. They didn't know better, and seeing someone so new and nice and kind and perfect blinded them. Sure, puppy love can bloom into genuine love, but as they watch their Perfect One, they find themselves... disappointed. Uninterested. Their responses are rote, behaviour predictable, there's no fire or spark in their eyes, no flare of emotion beyond kindness and understanding. They're nice, yes, but now that the initial feeling have settled and faded, they find they preferred the more stimulating company of their friend.

The friend they chased off.

What had started out as dislike, hostility, anger, jealousy and even hatred, had morphed into something else without any of their notice. Their cranky, clumsy, funny, earnest little rival that had matched them word for word and insult for insult, and yet had turned around and defended them against bigots and idiots in the same breath.

Their darling little rival, their lovely antagonist, the one they thought was the villain... but was really the victim in all this. They had been too hasty, too cruel, and did not give their daring darling the chance to show that they were the better match. Not their perfect friend.

They tried to find them. Desperate to make amends, to beg forgiveness, to show their wayward darling that they had learned their mistake and wanted, needed, to make up for it. And oh, they would gladly spend the rest of their lives making up for their foolishness, their cruelty, for being so blind as not to see their perfect match in the imperfect one.

But they couldn't find them. They had erased themselves digitally, and whenever they had left they had done so (unknowingly, luckily) when camera's had been down or things deleted or lost or files corrupted. No records, no trace or trail to follow and find them. The troopers despaired, but would not give up. Once the war ended, they would set out and find their beloved.

Perhaps this was a test...? Yes, a test. To show their devotion, and their dedication to righting this wrong. The first step in their atonement, to prove that they were serious. To prove they were worthy of their Darling. The moment the war ended and their brothers had settled, they would set out.

They would hate to keep their darling waiting.

God you're a genius! I love this scenario, I hope you don't mind me using it!

Tw! for: yandere themes, stalking, slight infantilization, past cruelty and bullying, unreliable narrator

Vay's face dropped once more as he watched you from his place across from your apartment window.

"Oh, cyar’ika..."

You had thrown out another one of their notes, looking terrified, tears welling in your eyes as you checked the locks on your door once more.

You never wrote back, no matter how many gifts, heartfelt apologies, and professions of their love he left on your rickety desk.

What? Did you want him to beg? He would! Gladly.

God, he would love being on his knees for you, in any way.

At one time, the thought would have disgusted him. Him? Bowing to scum like you? A gross little whelp who was trying to take his sweetheart from him? But now, he saw you for what you really were. Not blinded by that bitch who had tried to take their attention away from you.

Perfection.

He needed you. They needed you.

Looking back on your snarky remarks had become a fond pastime of theirs. Instead of infuriating, they had shifted into something adorable. Like and angry tooka kitten hissing and spitting when you approached.

Since they had finally found you again, watching you had come to make him anxious every time he was on shift. (Not that he didn't enjoy seeing you, your time together was the highlight of his week!) He just couldn't stand to see what your life had become without them! You went to your little job, then came home, occasionally went out with your idiotic friends (who were in no way fit to be anywhere around you), sometimes even going out by yourself (which gave Vay a heat attack, what would you do without them there to keep you safe?), but that was about it.

You had no real connection, as happy as you made yourself out to be. No one to take care of you, protect you in the way you obviously needed.

It broke the trooper's heart.

Luckily, it wouldn't be long now. They would place themselves back in your life soon enough. They only hadn't sooner to give you time to get used to the idea. They knew their behavior before had been unacceptable and cruel.

Poor thing, they had stung you so badly you felt the need to run away! To test their devotion to you by hiding away on the outer rim. Luckily, they were expert trackers thanks to their search and rescue training.

But honestly, what did you expect? You couldn't ask anyone to let a cute, fiery little thing like you go. No, this had to have been a test, silly girl.

Don't worry, once they get you settled in their new base and off of this dump of a planet, once they deal with your new "friends", you'll never want for anything. Surrounded by the protection and love you so desperately need.

Don't worry, love, they'll take care of all of it.

They'll take care of you 💙

[milaisreading]

Hello, I love the headcanons of blue lock and reader being their manager and they being simple, I don't know if you can make one where they see how reader someone is flirting with reader it could be Kaiser or sae I want to see them jealous only if it's to your liking write this idea if it's not right

Author: Sorry! I let my imagination wander a little, but it stayed close to the theme in some way! Hope u like it and thanks for the request🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Manga spoilers. No other warnings really. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock is owned by: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

If the Blue Lock building was busy before, then it sure was bussier now with the teams of Bastard München, Manshine city, PXG, Barcha and Ubers coming together to train with the Blue Lock members. The staff was pretty busy and (Y/n) tried her best to help then up, but with the fact that she has to be with the team majority of the time, it was hard.

Right now it was one of the rare moments when (Y/n) got to sit down in the past few days. In the dining area we're just her, Anri, some Manshine and München players eating or just talking.

"Fill out this form, (Y/n). (Y/n)?" Anri called out as the girl kept staring at a certain table being occupied by the Bastard München players.

"He is kind of cute..." (Y/n) muttered shyly to Anri, who immediately looked up from her papers. She barely ever heard (Y/n) talk about anyone in such a way, let alone a guy, so this was a very important information to her!

"Who?" Anri wondered, looking at the table with the German team as (Y/n) snapped out of her daydream and covered up her red face.

"The Bastard player over there.... his smile is so adorable." (Y/n) admitted, not noticing the sly smile on Anri's face.

"My my... is (Y/n) in love?"

"No! I mean... I never even talked to the guy."

"Well, you can change that. Didn't you spend some time in Germany for a exchange program?" Anri questioned as (Y/n) nodded her head. The woman slapped her on the back and gave her an encouraging look.

"You will have something in common then. Just try it out."

"Maybe you are right..."

As the two talked, neither noticed Nagi's frozen form nearby. Although he wasn't someone who would evesdrop, especially on (Y/n), he couldn't help hearing the part of her possibly liking a Bastard München player. The boy gulped and as quietly made his way to the exit, hoping he will find the other Blue Lock players before (Y/n) could make a move on Kaiser.

'Seriously?! Why that bastard of all people?! He is so obnoxious!' Nagi thought as jealousy made its way into his heart.

"Kaiser, I think the manager is into you. She has been staring at our table for a while." The blonde boy stopped his conversation with Ness and both looked at the said table. Kaiser made eye contact with the girl and she immediately looked away, face red from embarrassment.

"Is that so?"

"Well, you do get a lot of looks from girls in Germany Kaiser, not surprised that it's the same case in Japan." Ness added truthfully, feeding his ego more than needed. The boy thought for a moment and looked back at the table, watching as she followed the older woman out of the room.

"Well, might as well give the fan the attention she wants. When are we playing against Yoichi?"

"In about 3 hours." Another player answered, dreading Kaiser's plan already.

"Kaiser?! Michael Kaiser?!" Reo and Hiori yelled in shock as Nagi finished explaining what he had heard in the dining hall. Baro and Kunigami already were cracking their knuckles and Rin was about to rip his hair out.

'Great! While I am over here trying to keep my bastard brother away, that dude had to catch her attention.'

"What about Kaiser? Are we talking about how much of a clown he is?" Isagi laughed as him, Chigiri and Bachira walked into the locker room.

"No! He might be a clown, but he seems to be (Y/n)'s type!" Karasu said as he fell to the floor dramatically and Aryu huffed in disgust.

"He isn't even worthy of her glancing at him, let alone being the object of her affection. Oh I need to give (Y/n) a lesson in class and taste." Aryu said, ready to rip the blonde boy's hair out.

"You... you are joking, right?! Is it April 1st or something?!" Bachira yelled but Reo shook his head, pointing at a shaking Nagi.

"Nagi heard her say that to Teieri-san. He said she was pointing at his table and blushing. This is a tragedy." Yukimiya said sounding more upset by each word.

"We need to stop this from evolving into something more than just a crush." Niko said as Kurona and Gagamaru nodded their heads.

"And how will we do that? It's not like we have any rights to tell (Y/n) what she can say or do." Chigiri said.

"I will just beat Kaiser up, that will keep him away!" Bachira said with a wide grin.

"No, you will get in trouble for it! We need something else." Isagi argued, mad that one of his worst rivals had to catch their manager's attention.

"Well, if we all know (Y/n) correctly, she will stop he activities as soon as one of us needs help. We just got to pretend to be helpless with some tasks." Otoya said, and the rest thought it over for a minute.

"That's not so bad. (Y/n) isn't the kind of girl to abandon her work or friends for some guy, much less Kaiser." Gagamaru finally spoke up, earning a nod from Rin.

"Alright then. For the next few days we are pretending to be stupid, although some of you don't need to pretend." Rin said as he rolled his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Baro questioned.

"Some of you will call (Y/n) at any opportunity when you have basic tasks to do, for example tying your shoelaces."

"Now you aren't the one to talk, you always pretend to not know how to put bandages properly on." Kunugami added, earning a laugh from Hiori and Bachira.

"That happened once!"

"Not even you believe that." Chigiri and Gagamaru snickered. Isagi kept quiet during the whole ordeal, already preparing to beat Kaiser on the field.

'I am not going to lose (Y/n) to that obnoxious guy. Why did he have to get her attention of all people.'

"Let's just hope Kaiser's lap dog won't catch onto us." Yukimiya's comment caused the rest to laugh, finding the name fitting for Ness.

"Hmmm... and the towels are here! I think everything is ready for the match. I wonder how Isagi feels knowing he had to play against the guy he despises the most and the one he adores." (Y/n) chuckled, remembering how much he insulted Kaiser before the teams arrived.

'Well he does seem full of himself sometimes.'

The girl cringed a little at the thought of the blonde, and just as her luck wanted it, he walked up to her.

"Hey, you must be the manager. (L/n) (Y/n), right?"

The girl blinked a few times and nodded her head, wondering why he walked up to her.

"Yeah... do you or the team need something? I can go get someone!" (Y/n) said, hoping nothing was missing. Kaiser chuckled a little and shook his head.

"Not really, well now that I think of it I might do need something."

"Huh? What is it? Water, towels? Do you want to talk with-"

"Actually, your number would be a good start."

(Y/n) stopped in her rambling and looked at the smiling boy blankly.

"Why would I give you my number?" The girl wondered.

"Well you seem like just my type, so why not get to know each other. I don't offer this to anyone, you know."

"I-" (Y/n) was too stunned for a moment. While yes Kaiser was objectively good-looking and talented, he wasn't that important to her.

"I-I got to go. If you need something else a staff member will help you."

Kaiser was left confused for a moment, thinking she was shy, but that wasn't it.

'It's like she doesn't care? As if she wasn't eyeing me this morning.' Kaiser was offended by now and as (Y/n) was about to speak again, the Blue Lock members interrupted her.

"(Y/n)! Can you help me with my knee brace?"

"I need help with my laces too!" Chigiri and Nagi yelled and Reo pulled her away from Kaiser, who watched the scene in confusion.

"Sure, where is your brace?" (Y/n) asked, shaking her shock away as she looked at Chigiri. Reo and Nagi used the opportunity to glare at the German.

"Leave."

"Don't you have a warm-up with that team of yours? Leave our manager alone." Baro and Kunigami warned as they stood in front of Kaiser, blocking his view at the girl.

'Where did they come from? And moreover, why was she so nonchalant now?' Kaiser wondered.

The game went better than Ego expected, his team didn't have a hard time catching up to the others and they even scored some great goals. The team was quite bloodhugry after they heard Kaiser tried to make a move on (Y/n), so they did their best to intimidate him on the field, which was mostly thanks to Rin, Isagi, Baro and Nagi. After (Y/n) and Anri congratulated them, they started cleaning up, not noticing Kaiser approaching them.

"Not him again...and the lap dog is here too." Otoya rolled his eyes as Isagi and Rin got up.

"Maybe we should go and get something to drink!"

"Yeah, I am thirsty!" Hiori and Kurona said quickly, earning weirded out looks by the girl.

"I just gave you water. You know Ego-san doesn't allow you any sugary liquid right now."

"Yeah, but we need more water!" Bachira suddenly said. Anri rolled her eyes at their childish behavior and pulled (Y/n) by the arm.

"Use this opportunity now." Anri whispered, pushing (Y/n) towards where Kaiser was.

"I... I don't know. He will probably think it's weird."

"Shut up."

Anri said harshly, sending a glare towards Yukimiya who tried to say something. The two approached the 3 arguing boys and the silent one.

'This is a bad idea...'

"Hey, you are Ness, right?" The magenta haired boy raided his eyebrow and looked away from Kaiser.

"Yes?"

"(Y/n) here wants to speak with you." Anri said as she left the girl in front of Ness and pulled Rin and Isagi away, embarrassed at their behavior. Kaiser kept quiet, wondering why she was acting so nervous around Ness of all people.

'What am I missing?'

"How can I help you?" Ness asked with his usual smile.

'It looks so cute!' The girl thought.

"I-I wanted to say you did a very great job today. Y-you are really talented!"

"Ah? Really? Thank you, but it wasn't anything special. I do way more during official games." Ness said, a little bit embarrassed by the compliments.

"That must be great then! I hope I will get to watch you play for real soon. Oh!" (Y/n) took her phone out and showed it to Ness.

"I wanted to ask if I could get your phone number. You seem really nice to talk to."

The magenta haired boy blinked a few times, then looked at a flabbergasted Kaiser and then back at (Y/n).

"Aren't you interested in Kaiser? I saw you staring at him today." The boy asked in confusion. (Y/n) felt her already red face get even redder and she shook her head.

"Well... I was staring, won't deny that. But I was actually looking at you, Kaiser was just in the way you could say..." (Y/n) admitted.

'I?! I was in the way of Ness?! What movie did I wake up to?' Kaoser thought as he watched Ness nod his head and typing in his phone number. Feeling a small boost in confidence, Ness spoke up as (Y/n) put her phone away.

"Hey, dinner is in about an hour or so, want to eat together? Since you want to get to know me."

"S-sure!" (Y/n) answered with a shy smile.

Anri cheered as Ego watched the scene in boredom, wondering what the big fuss over it was. Meanwhile the boys were left defeated at the fact that (Y/n) picked Alexis Ness over all of them. Their only saving grace was that the German team will stay in Japan for 2 more days and then leave. After that they can use the time to get (Y/n)'s mind off of the magenta haired boy.

"I need (Y/n)'s eyesight to be checked..." Yukimiya muttered as Aryu nodded his head, refusing to admit defeat.

"Will you stop filming, Shidou?" Loki warned the pink-eyed boy, who was fighting back the urge to laugh.

"What are you talking about? This is gold, Loki! I need to show this to Sae."

"Why him?" The coach of PXG asked in confusion as Shidou put his phone away.

"He has been trying to get close to (Y/n) for a while and failed each time. Imagine his face when a newcomer did it so effortlessly."

Loki sighed in defeat at Shidou's immature behavior.

"Let a brother breath..." He muttered.

[jo-harrington]

Ex Nihilo (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Difficult Family Relationships, Found Family, Set around Christmas but not explicitly Holiday-related.

Note: As we go into this holiday season and I'm reminded of some difficult things in my own past, I decided to write this for all of us who sometimes desperately wish that we were simply from nothing. It would certainly be easier that way.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

You don't know where you're going unless you know where you've been.

That's what everyone seemed to tell you when they found out about your "don't dwell on the past" mentality.

You moved forward. Worked on yourself. Always striving to be more, to be better. Reflection was for learning, not for obsessing. You were a product of your past, yes, but you would not be haunted by it.

It was one of the things you and Eddie agreed on when you first met.

It had been less of a meet cute and more of the hands of fate smashing the two of you together like a child making their toys kiss. But you were stuck together from that moment on. Embracing one another wholeheartedly and not entirely whole without each other. But if you were going to do this--take steps into the future together--you couldn't keep looking over your shoulders for the ghosts of your past to sneak up on you.

And that meant trust.

It was difficult early on, as you got to learn things about each other. You needed to constantly practice patience. The questions that usually came with getting to know someone new--getting to love someone new--were sometimes left unanswered. Sometimes it was simple things like why you didn't want to listen to that one Roxette cassette tape that had a permanent home in your glovebox. Other times it was something serious, like where he got those scars.

"I can't talk about it," one of you would say, insist.

Not won't, not don't-want-to. Can't.

And then it was behind you.

Buried beneath the seconds, minutes, hours of the nows and togethers and tomorrows that you could think about instead.

One day, the fractioned parts of yourself that remained in the shadows suddenly and unexpectedly came to light. Both of your secrets that weren't really secrets tangible and in your newly-shared living space.

Mail.

Nothing good ever came in the mail. Bills and notices from the government and chain letters.

And postcards.

Well, holiday cards in the form of postcards.

Two of them.

They were similar but so very different and you and Eddie both looked on in horror as groups of smiling faces stared up at you. Each of you recognizing one and not the other.

Yours. A family stared back at you. A father and mother and grown up children with their own partners and children. All standing in a wintry landscape in matching sweaters with arms slung around each other. One particular set of eyes stared into the camera, into your soul, burning you.

His. A different kind of family. A group of young adults, graduation caps all on their heads, a girl with short brown curls in the middle looking extremely proud of herself, and a boy whose laughter was so visibly boisterous you could practically hear it through the postcard. They all stood in front of a Christmas tree decorated with diplomas that rested on the branches, instead of ornaments.

"I didn't kn--" You and Eddie both speak the same words over one another, as in sync as you are.

"Who are th--" It happens again and this time you hold a hand over your mouth, emotion getting the better of you.

It's a moment you know you've both dreaded for a while, the willful ignorance of the past in favor of a blissful present. But it's here.

Nothing came from nothing.

"I didn't know that they had the new address," Eddie shrugged and crossed his arms over his torso. "My, uh...uncle must have told them."

His uncle who you know of but heard very little about. Had some kind of insurance or lawsuit payout and lived in a quiet little cabin by a lake so he could fish. Eddie had gone to see him...for his birthday maybe? He didn't really specify and you didn't ask.

You could now...

"Who are they?" you asked instead.

"Old friends." His smile is strained and almost looks like a grimace. "They were freshmen when I...well I mean, they're not anymore. Been through a lot of shit together though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He's tense, almost like any other words you ask will inflict stinging battle damage and he's preparing himself for it. His one hand scratches at his side--at his scars--like he does when he gets nervous.

You didn't want him to be nervous around you. That's not what you're here for.

"Eddie Munson, babysitting service," you said instead and flipped the postcard over. It says Merry Christmas from The Hoppers. No return address. Your eyes turned back to the kids' faces. No similarity. To Eddie or each other. Adopted? Didn't really matter. You didn't need to speculate, he would tell you if he wanted.

But he didn't want to. At least not now.

Instead he scoffed and shook his head with his crooked grin.

"No that's our other friend," he grabbed the card from you and inspected their faces a little closer, nose practically touching the cardstock. "Steve. Always the babysitter, he said."

"Uh huh."

Something in your chest opens up then, like your ribs snapping off to reveal a wide and ominous cavern, as he hesitantly points each of the kids out to you. A name, a quick fact, and a fond smile.

Nothing more, but it's still a lot...and it still feels like...

An obligation.

One you never felt with Eddie before.

You refuse to take your eyes off of his postcard, even though yours sits on the counter, right in your peripherals. You hesitate even when he finishes his introduction...explanation.

Finally you pick it up, holding it delicately at the corners, as though putting your fingerprints on the picture will somehow bond you to the people contained within.

The words are lodged in your throat. Things you...really...

You don't want to say them but they're there.

This kind of thing will show up from time to time.

That's Michael and that's Simon. I didn't even know Simon got married, wow.

The last time I saw them was...5 years ago? 10?

And that's...

You cleared your throat and the words flew out, violently like you were given some pseudo-Heimlich maneuver. A piece of your life, a piece of your identity, choked and spat into the room. It smacked against Eddie's chest and fell wetly, disgustingly to the floor.

"That's my family."

He sensed your discomfort immediately.

"You don't have to--"

"No," you stopped him. "I want to."

"No you don't."

"No I don't. But I want you...to know. At least a little."

He huddled close to you, closer than you already were when he showed you his own postcard. You don't take the lead though and he awkwardly pointed out where this person has your eyes and that's your smile.

You're not sure if he did it so you could just focus on you and not them but it does help. It helps to see a younger version of yourself in your niece and the same crinkles of your eyes in your brothers.

"And who's this asshole?" he asked, pointing to...

"Uhm..." you're hesitant. "That's Mark."

You haven't called him dad in a while. Not even in your head.

"Her?"

"Mary."

And she's been his wife for years but you've never called your step-mother anything other than her name since you met her.

Eddie remained silent for a moment and you wondered if he knew. Maybe when you guys combined your rolodexes in the first week of living together and you stood by the phone trying to figure out whether it should be alphabetized by first name (his) or last name (yours), he noticed the stack of contacts that shared the same last name as you. Phone numbers that, again, hadn't been dialed in years.

Keep them, your mom had told you way back when. In case of emergencies. Better safe than sorry.

She, like Eddie's uncle, probably shared your new address as well.

You don't know whether to thank her or curse her now, as you hold your breath and wait for Eddie to say something.

Your mind raced and you wondered whether or not to speak first instead. If he wanted some kind of story from your family, from your past, you could run to the closet and pull out a picture of your grandma, tell him about her instead. Or maybe he'd want to know about the great grandfather whose name you found in a book at Ellis Island some time ago, who worked on the railroad and had eight siblings who all died before they turned 18. Some strange family curse he avoided.

Anything, anything, anything but them.

He inhaled.

"They look like they're boring," he chuckled. "Matching sweaters? Seriously?"

"Mary picks them out," you explained. "And yeah. She is pretty boring."

"I don't want them on the fridge with my magnets." You smacked your hand against his chest weakly. "What?"

"Your magnets?"

"You know how many garage sales I had to go to so I could find all of the Campbell's soup cans? Michael and Scottie and Mork's lovely Sears Catalog sweaters are gonna make the Cream of Mushroom look like trash. Pass."

He yoinked the postcard from your hand and tossed it over his shoulder, and you felt a weight lift off your chest.

Out of sight out of mind.

Eddie turned you to face him and cupped your cheeks in his hands, whispered words of thanks and praise and reassurance as he pecked kisses around your face. And when he was done, you returned the favor.

Neither you or Eddie liked to dwell on the past, but you could acknowledge it when it decided to pop up from time to time.

Because nothing came from nothing.

If it did, the two of you wouldn't have ended up here.

Together.

[harvestmino]

hey remember 11 years ago when i was going to make a harvest moon clone starring minoriko but it didn't go anywhere because I was too busy doing absolutely nothing of value instead?

well say hello to the week 1 build of HARVEST MINO, complete with dogshit tiles and the ability to grow a turnip. we're doing it man. we're MAKING THIS HAPPEN. me and my esteemed investors, that is!

I've created this dev blog to talk about the game, so follow if you're interested in seeing this get made from the ground up.

read on for more details!

HARVEST MINO* is Studio Hexeye's next project! it's a touhou-themed farm sim starring Minoriko Aki! The release is targeted for summer 2025.

*(working title that will change later; i doubt natsume's lawyers would like this one very much)

THE STORY

With more youkai and gods seeking refuge from the outside world, Gensokyo's population is growing! That means they need more humans to go around, too. To address this, a number of big name youkai have gotten together and agreed to back off from the HUMAN VILLAGE for a few years and allow it to expand.

Although they're causing fewer incidents, that doesn't mean some of them aren't keeping busy! For instance, KANAKO YASAKA has built YASAKA RESORT TOWN on the side of YOUKAI MOUNTAIN to bring in money from wealthy youkai finding themselves with too much time on their hands.

You are MINORIKO AKI, Gensokyo's lowest-ranking harvest god. With the HUMAN VILLAGE growing, this is a prime opportunity to increase your popularity! KANAKO YASAKA has decided to invest in your venture by granting you a prime piece of farmland near YASAKA RESORT TOWN. If you can ship enough of your divinely-blessed(?) produce to the HUMAN VILLAGE, you're certain to make a name for yourself, leading to faith and riches beyond your wildest dreams! Good luck!

HARVEST MINO DESIGN GOALS

Alternate gameplay modes: CASUAL and SERIOUS

despite being a genre in which you essentially cannot lose, a surprising amount of people find farm sims stressful due to the time management aspects. i intend to cater to this audience with some simple rules changes in an alternate gameplay mode.

SERIOUS is your standard farm sim experience - each day is on a timer, and you'll complete the game and have your performance evaluated after two years. this mode also includes a few additional restrictions to make the resource management of the game a bit more involved.

CASUAL removes the time limits. the clock on each day stops when it hits midnight (like in SNES harvest moon!) so you have all the time you need to wrap up before going to bed, and you complete the game by reaching a certain story goal, whenever you get around to it. it is also more friendly towards filling out your farm with automated stuff like sprinklers, since time doesn't matter anyway.

More choice/depth in farm design

lemme get this out of the way: i hate stardew's endgame. the biggest moneymaker in the game is filling your greenhouse with ancient fruit and turning it into wine; the bulk of your profits come from tossing your fruit into kegs once a week and ignoring your farm otherwise. i think this sucks and one of my design goals is to make the value of income sources proportional to how much manual effort they require.

another thing that has always bugged me about farm sims is that the way you lay out your farm is generally decided for you by the way your tools work. if your watering can upgrade targets a 3x3 of tiles, then all your plots are going to be 3x3. in harvest mino you'll be able to choose from multiple upgrade patterns for your tools, so you can have crops in rows, blocks, the ol' C pattern, or whatever you like. we're going back to old harvest moon rules, where you can't walk through crops after they sprout, so plan your layout well!

Harem end??

let's get real, when it comes to farm sims, the girls are what we're really here for, right?

to be forthcoming, I'm not planning to have marriage in the game per se - I don't think it makes a lot of sense for creatures that are hundreds of years old to make a commitment like that after knowing each other for only a year or so - but the end goal is functionally the same, to get them to move in with you.

now, few, if any, farm sims feature the coveted HAREM END. this is understandable, it would be a design nightmare to have 5+ NPCs pathing through your house at any given time. however, by planning around it from the start, we can make it a reality! in this game, in addition to the usual requirements, each girl you're interested in will require you to build her a specific addition to your house to accommodate her. this gives them their own space to move around and will really improve the vibe that you're living together.

(don't forget that you will need a steadily-increasing bed size as well.)

Fast travel!

you're a 2hu! you can fly! you'll be able to open up your map, just pick a spot, and fly there! (in SERIOUS MODE, this will cost a small amount of daytime).

Adventure!

you're a 2hu! there's gotta be shooting! the game will feature "adventure zones" where you can blast through enemies while searching for forage and loot. exactly what this gameplay will look like is still up in the air, but right now I'm thinking room-based twin-stick shooting, Smash TV style. (don't worry about the difficulty, it'll be approachable for anyone. ASTROLANCER was a learning experience.) plus you'll be able to bring a girlfriend along to help!

Additional note concerning the cast:

the game is currently in very early planning and as such is in roster hell!! the cast is not set in stone so I won't be revealing too much yet. i have to limit how many characters are in the game to keep dev time under control so try not to be disappointed if your favorite 2hu doesn't show up.

[warderfromtheborder]

Destiny: the year of Very Well Structured Things In Sets of 2

Defiance+Wish: The Sovs Mara and Crow, the Eliksni Misraaks and Eramis, and the Regular Ass Humans Devrim and Petra(PV counts as a regular-ass human she isn't a figure of prophecy or royalty in the reef she's a cop who's been promoted too much out of necessity)

Deep+Witch: The Truncated Heros Sloane and Eris, the Osmium OGs Xivu and Savathun, the Concerned Boss-Parents Zavala and Ikora, and the Wriggly Enablers Ahsa and Drifter (okay you got me) I mean the Nonhuman Guides Ahsa and Immaru

Lightfall: Osiris with no Sagira and Nimbus with no Rohan and Caiatl with no Recognizable Dad and the Witness with no Disciples and Chioma with no Maya and the Vex with no Chill the Living People of Neomuna with no Meatspace to live in. (The dreaming city curse will never end and the people on Neptune will never get to leave the matrix Im sorry but that's the way it is)

The story and themes for this year of Destiny are SO GOOD the writers have done SUCH A GOOD JOB. If making a tighter relationship between the expansion narrative and the seasonal narratives was one of the goals this year they fucking knocked it out of the park, I can't put any of these arcs into its own box because they have been knit together so sturdily. It's all one great narrative, one Very Big narrative, they haven't done it like this before!

(And Im so mad people couldnt stop shitting on Lightfall they are stoping themselves from seeing how good the WHOLE NARRATIVE IS they are probably gonna say come march/near TFS launch "uhh yeah the seasons were good i guees but maybe they shoulda worked harder on Lightfall I mean who even likes Nimbus" and for their Ignorance and Haterism I am sentencing them to reading part two of The Two Towers while they get attacked by Paper-Tube Ninjas and a broadcast system shouts at them 'YOU CANNOT HAVE THE VICTORIES IN RETURN OF THE KING IF FRODO AND SAM DIDNT KEEP WALKING ALL THE WAY TO MORDOR' for 100 hundred years.) (The link there is I didn't get the Point of that part of Two Towers when I first read it and assumed the whole would have been better without it. Obviously...I was wrong, and so are these clowns who think Lightfall has a bad story)

The name of the game this year is Resolution, Catharsis, Armistice, Acceptance. The structuring is so simple and so elegant and so well executed, the 2s, the 3s, the mirroring and the inverting and the unfathomable gloriousness of the victories personal and community and galaxy wide. There is no way to overstate the bitterness of Amanda's death, the relief of exhalation when Sloane retreats, the VINDICATION of Eris's vengeance.

You remember when Zavala 'discovered' Crow's former identity? How that was the crowning on-screen narrative jewel in destiny up to that point? What I am saying is EVERY ARC THIS YEAR IS AS GOOD OR BETTER THAN THAT BEAT AND DESERVES AS MUCH RECOGNITION FOR THE ARTISTIC ACHIEVEMENT OF SO MANY COMPLEMENTARY COMBOS PACKED INTO ONE EXPANSION STORY.

If Shadowkeep was the first sign of symptoms, if Beyond Light was trying to irradiate the disease, if Witch Queen was a tug of war with scar tissue, then Lightfall is the world after recovery and making peace with what will Never Be The Same, and the home and family that has been changed forever but is still Your Home and Your Family. We don't stop fighting but we also don't stop loving and growing and caring.

One last thing for my fellow Sjur copium addicts out there: Sloane's retreat was mirrored and inverted by Eris's victory, so for the complementary-ness of the story to continue, Amanda's death and Crow's subsequent emotional anguish over losing the person he fought with but who also saw him for who he really is will need to be mirrored and inverted by SOMEONE who Mara fought with but who also saw her for who she really is and I expect you will agree this is SCIENTIFICALLY ACCURATE reasoning that Sjur's comin back home.