#Why the hell does our killer use a fucking sword?

[overly-hubristic-mad-scientist]

I find it kinda ridiculous the lengths some movies during the horror boom went to in order to distinguish their slasher from the 5,000 other slashers at the time.

[ratlivesonblog]

Whos ur little guys (ocs)? Could I hear a bit about them :3

AAAAA TYSM FOR ASKING! AND SORRY IF I DIDNT ANSWER BEFORE I WAS SLEEPING

i have a lot of fleshed out lil fellers all from the same fantasity-technological world, but my favorite is this gal without an arm called Rona :3

basically she lived as a merchant for most of her childhood but then her first father left her at the city because the economy and the world in general was getting more dangerous when fighting. they only left her a bow if she wanted to protect herself

So shes in this cool city well adjusted with some family but she's an outcast at the end of the day cause of her origins, her ways of talking and being. and she doesn't have an arm, she cant use that bow. and in this universe prosthetics are seen as the work of the devil basically and are very expensive and hard to find. so she goes to the twin city of the one she is now, which is basically a failed utopia where everything went wrong. and these she meets her friends and helps when she can. Cause if she doesnt help someone? that means shes fucking dead. even despite her own problems surfacing she Has to help people .

and how does she go in this city full of tyrants and killer things? with a big sword she's strangely good at using! And lots of kindness despite being a very skeptic of people there! and guess what that kindness does? attract the god that's supposed to be protecting her best friend! and what good does that do her? nothing but more depression and issues! and her best friend, the one she acquired during her journey for an arm, is a fucking psycho who got reincarnated as an elf (which is why this god is watching them) and woke up recently and now is lost with their life! and also the first thing they did to Rona? broke her big cool sword with a chainsaw!

another oc i really like is a lil lowlife demon who is tired of being mistreated and flames and hell, but they're also a theater kid, and with the help of some of the guys from purgatory he starts working in other places until he has enough confidence to fake being an angel to work there. and they have a whole bunch of issues cause theyre lying to people, and were originally a demon

okokok dont wanna make this too long but tysm for asking me and other people, and making our day a little nicer <3

[weministertomonsters]

Une Amourette

The rain taps harshly against the window and I almost mistake it for someone's knuckles rapping against the panes; Mother Nature asking to be let in. The way I see it, she's wringing her hair over the roof of our cabin and already has one foot in the door.

Water is dripping everywhere and Sam and Jesse are doing a shit job of cleaning it up.

"Let go, you motherfucker!" Jesse bleats on the floor, flopping on his belly like a beached whale.

Sam straddles his back, pulling the wet towel tighter against his neck.

"How long can you last without oxygen?" Sam asks rhetorically.

"I. Said. Let. GO!" Jesse's face is turning blue.

"Will you two quit messing around and just clean the damn place up? And then patch the roof. Dad will have a fit if he comes home and everything is soaked," I sigh.

"The house is the only thing getting soaked that's for sure," Sam grumbles, shoving Jesse's face against the floor as he stands and resumes spreading the towel down and then squeezing it out over a bucket.

"Why don't you help?" Jesse asks, swiping under his nose to check for blood.

"Because I'm the only one who can cook?" I suggest, pouring another batch of pancake batter into the frying pan.

"Cook my ass, that's just pancake mix," Sam sniffs. "Smells good though."

"Fine, I'm the least likely to set the food on fire," I amend. "It's all we've got to eat for the rest of the week unless you two want to go to the store tomorrow?"

"Hell no!" They chorus back.

"That's what I thought," I mutter.

Tap.

Tap.

"Is that a fucking bird?" I demand. "I've been hearing that for the past two minutes."

"Then you're hearing things, Nolly," Sam says from the floor. "As usual."

Tap.

Tap.

I survey the window in front of me but all I can see is the long twist of Killer's Peak Road and the distant twinkling lights of the town. Everything looks normal until it doesn't.

"I swear if you say you see something-" Sam says, but I interrupt him.

"Yeah, I see something."

"Nolly!"

"Come and see for yourself," I beckon with the spatula.

Sam and Jesse crowd beside me and peer out the window.

"Is that a person?" Jesse asks.

"Is that a gun?" Sam asks.

"Yes, and yes." I squint at the shadow creeping through the ridge of trees along the road. "Looks like a man. A hunter?"

"Unless he's here to shoot you, weirdo, then he's probably hunting something else," Sam says, attempting to take a pancake out of the pan and cussing as the crispy-hot edges burn his fingers.

"But it's raining," Jesse wonders, leaning against the counters and crossing his lean arms. "Who hunts in this weather?"

"More importantly..." I smack Sam's hand to stop him from having a second go with the pancakes. "I don't hear the tapping anymore."

"That was just you," Sam says, petulantly rubbing the back of his hand.

"Maybe-" Jesse pipes up.

BANG.

The back door flies open and a man stumbles in and kicks the door shut.

"Hey!" Sam yells. "You can't just bust in here like you own the place-"

The man turns to face us and Sam's voice dies in his throat.

"Holy shit," Jesse breathes and the three of us stand there like rabbits in the headlights of an oncoming car and stare.

No one can blame us, because the man has half a sword sticking out of his chest. The ragged edges of the wound seep blood onto the handle of the weapon and it drips from there onto the floor.

"All three of you must be deaf," the man says. "I knocked more than once."

"Told you I heard something!" I exclaim. "Uh, who are you?"

"That's unimportant," the man says, striding over to the counters and pulling them open, moving surprisingly well considering how bad his injury looks.

"Are you in trouble with the guy out there?" Jesse asked.

The man tilts his head towards the window and looks like he wants to curse but doesn't.

"He will come knocking and ask if you have seen me," the man says, finally finding what he wants.

A clean dishtowel and the bottle of alcohol we keep for our frequent emergencies.

"And what should we say when he does?" I ask.

"Tell him you have no idea what he is talking about and ask him if he is hunting rabbits," the man says.

"And if we don't?" Sam dares to ask.

"Then he will kill all of you and come for me next," the man says as he strides across the kitchen, adding over his shoulder, "Out of the four of us, I'm the most likely to survive."

The man pauses in the hallway and pulls open the laundry room and the pantry, closing each door in turn. He pulls open the downstairs bathroom door and disappears into it while we stand and wonder what the hell is happening. I snap out of it when I smell smoke and realize the last shrunken pancake is turning black. I switch the stove off and open the window a crack to let the smoke out.

"Are we supposed to believe what that man said?" Jesse asks, scratching his head. "He does look like he is in some kind of trouble..."

"We're not taking any chances," Sam retorts. "The man out there has a gun. We can take the injured guy but none of us stand a chance against a gun."

"For the record," a voice floats from the bathroom, "you cannot take me."

"Jesus Christ," Sam says, amused and annoyed.

Tap.

Tap.

This time, I go to the door and pull it open, coming face to face with a wilderness of a man. He's wearing a crinkly raincoat over his clothes and he reeks of alcohol. His fuzzy grey beard has something like a bit of melted cheese stuck in it.

"Hello," he says. "You seen a man about this tall 'n wide with a sword in his chest?"

I do my best to look innocent. I don't have to try very hard because the man looks like he's half out of it. He fixes his yellowed eyes on me but the right one keeps slipping to stare off somewhere else for a few moments before he blinks and drags it back to focus on me.

"Well?" He grunts, trying to look past my shoulder.

I'm much taller than he is, so he can't see anything. I don't want to step aside and give him the idea that he can come in, so I turn slightly so he can see my brothers standing in the middle of the kitchen; Sam with his military buzzcut and pants hanging unbuttoned on his hips and Jesse who looks like an emo disaster someone fished out of the Goodwill bin.

"Hey man, are you a hunter?" Sam says.

"A rabbit hunter?" Jesse adds.

"Nah kid, I'm just flushing out one big bad wolf," the man says, stamping on the doormat, dislodging chunks of mud from his boots. "You sure you haven't seen a man?"

"Nope," I say. "But good luck finding him in all this rain."

"Eh, I didn't think he'd be here either. He'd never hole up with a bunch of kids. He hates 'em."

"We're not kids!" Jesse scoffs.

"That's exactly what a kid would say," Sam snorts, and Jesse tackles him.

Mercifully, they land on the couch, not the glass coffee table.

The man squints at me for a long moment. "Well, I'll be on my way," he says. "You got a gun?"

"Licensed, yes," I lie.

He waves a hand dismissively. "If you see a man as I described, shoot him. That just might save your life."

With that, he clumps off the back steps and hurries off into the rain. I close the door and then bolt it shut as an afterthought.

"I think he's dangerous," I announce to Sam and Jesse, glancing at the bathroom door.

"Which one?" Jesse asks.

'Our guy looks saner than the dude with the gun. Even though he should be dead by now," Sam says, trapping Jesse's head between his knees and ruffling his hair until he begins to squeal.

"Still," I take the gun out of its box on top of the fridge and check to make sure it's loaded and the safety is on. "Better armed than vulnerable."

"I am dangerous, just not to you," the man says.

I turn to see him descending the stairs and patting his hair with a towel, wearing clean, dry clothes that look familiar.

"Is that my shirt?" I demand.

─────────────── · · · · ✦

I suck at multitasking. I posted this on Patreon in March and forgot to eventually post it here (and on Wattpad). I don't know what I'm doing anymore, send help! Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this, even though my habit of writing new stories without finishing the old stories and not finishing those new ones because I've moved on to other stories is cursed AF.

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Pls love me anyway. 　ﾟ･｡･

[unsleepingtales]

Episode 11 reactions! Much delayed but here they are.

We are fifteen minutes in and Emily’s already crying. This is gonna be so fine and such a good thing for my mental health tonight huh.

“I am big. And I am bad” “But so am I now.” I’m gonna SOB

Red and the Wolf’s relationship is so important to me actually.

“No, stop, in reference to what?!” Brennan fully pulling them out of this very intense scene because he’s had it with Beardsley’s shit and he needs them to explain this one goddammit.

At some point when I’m not sleep deprived and stressed out of my mind I am going to do a mini character analysis on why Ylfa loves secrets because I think if I poke at it for long enough there’s something there.

Ylfa introducing him as Death 🥺

HASHTAGPONDLIFE

Does anyone have more info on the sword?

Mech? Destroyed. Pig? Eaten. Death? Totally chill, he likes a bit of defiance!

Impeccable use of a disguise kit. The wolf loves his fun little blond ombre patch.

Mer-King mention we are getting closer and closer to the little mermaid

Which hopefully means we are also getting closer to more Cinderella interactions!

Rumplestiltskin lore?

Oh fuck oh god so it’s the baron’s fault Marienne and Greenleigh fell??? Snowhold sent giants to defeat Marienne because Tomas denied the council of kings, and I don’t think there was a chance in hell any greenleigh royalty would join…

Restoring order and decency. I mean this completely seriously that is chilling.

Snow White Necromancer?? Ok sick

Conniving pig working with the faeries ugh

So everyone is working towards something that they think is good and true and actually it’s all just different layers of fucking over other people.

Jack. Jack the Giant Killer. Jack who is no longer Mother Goose’s son. Oh no. Oh oh no.

I really hope Brennan is going to involve the actual original Snow Queen tale, it’s fucking fascinating and she’s just been mentioned so I have hope.

Babe wake up new Plug’s Butt Ugly Stuff Hut just dropped

Ooooooohohoho do we get to go to Toy Island where it’s just Boys boys and nothing but boys being their beautiful selves and living their best lives ☺️

“I might just walk to snowhold by myself.”

Bubblegum and whiskey, new favorite drink ig.

Murph and Zac in perfect unison incredible

Goose and Gerard being actual adult friends is so nice.

Full five seconds of horrified silence after “hey wolf… how do you like to have sex?”

One day you will die.

DOES THE WOLF KNOW BABA YAGA IS THAT WHATS ABOUT TO HAPPEN

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Fucking love the Baba Yaga cannot wait to meet her.

What the fuck kind of favor could the deity of death owe to the oldest witch oh god

Ally is just murdering Brennan with the one liners today

The Baba Yaga canonically plays ukulele in the Neverafter. Okay. Hate that. But sure.

Jam sesh :)

Gander being creeeeepy

Never mind he’s just Hannah Montana

Girls, boys, bubble gum and toys, and a whoooole lotta whiskey

“Let’s not just sell our souls instantly” says Brian Murphy, player of Cody Walsh.

Fun older cousin type shopping spree!!!

Zac and Murph in confused unison once again

Hand knit training bra from the baba yaga

The commitment to the bit from ALL OF THEM I love that Brennan just fully accepted it and went with it

RETURN OF THE ADULT SLEEPOVER

The wolf still has the wig yay

Pib and Ylfa friendship so important to me

PIB DEVELOPMENT I’m so glad he had that conversation with the wolf.

Snowball fight 🥺

He said seal skin and my ears pricked up, if there are selkies… I will lose it

Oh this is part of ze bit. I see. Zis is funny because she is ze one who has not worn ze crown.

“Is everyone okay” what an insane thing to ask in this situation

Oh this is a story I’ve never even heard, this is fascinating.

Episode Trailer Reactions:

ELODY?????

Emily’s outfit is so good

Dead princes continue

Evil witch laughter. Neat.

[adventures-of-the-creeping-bam]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 37

Matt Mercer instantly fumbles the intro ...

No more Gorgeous Lady Fingers? Oh no ... honestly though, it was maybe A LITTLE too suggestive. That said, to an extent this whole skit could be considered a little too innuendo-y ...

Ashley ... WHAT?!!! I'm with you guys, that was ridiculous ...

The Thumb? Thicc with 2 Cs, apparently. I love how pissed off Laura is at how pathetic her character is.

Bells Hells logo ... ooooooooooooohhh ... and it's chiselled in wood! Travis, as Chetney: "That's superior craftsmanship."

Matt: "On that note ..." wow, he looks SO DONE already ...

Oh man ... Matt's recap gives me TOO MUCH foreboding, I can't stand it!

Chetney just wants to leave immediately and I really can't blame him. This place is FUCKED.

Whoa ... so, what? What does THAT mean? Who sees what? Orym: "We're in hell." Yup, there we go.

Ah, so the whole place STINKS of necromancy. Yeah, that's about right. Delilah MUST be here.

Imogen wants to get berets. Hmmmmm ...

Vex ... Imogen: "Yeah, I think that was her name." XD

Stealth check ... Laura rolls a Nat 20 on the Whitestone dice. Whoa ... looks like it's pretty sweet rolls across the board. Nice.

So ... EVERYTHING'S made out of the same creepy stone shit ... okay ...

Liam rolls a Nat 1 ... oh yes, that classic Halfling Luck, he gets to reroll that one. 17! Yay!

When is a door not a door? When it's in THIS fucked up place ... okay, so FCG suggests they use a SWORD. Yeah, that'll work ... Ashton decides to use a WINDOW instead. Much better.

The window us ALSO bullshit. Yeah, that's about right too.

Sam has put a spiritual cord on his flask. Hmm ... Liam: "Very Chekov."

So now things are MOVING. Paths are shifting on them as they go through the city ... not good. Matt says this is going to require a SKILL CHECK ... four successes? What happens if they fuck THIS up?

Travis starts singing Thriller. Matt: "This city does not seem to like classic hits."

BONES ARE SHOOTING UP OUT OF THE GROUND!!! NOT GOOD!!!

Orym tries to Flea Jump over it. SERIOUSLY, dude? Oh, well at least he gets a decent view ... fuck, this shole place is just ALIVE, at least after a fashion.

Okay, the tree is EXTRA creepy. And there's A LOT of nooses on it ...

Liam rolls a 23 on dexterity, which means Orym DOESN'T cut himself to shreds getting over this mess.

Sam: "Bones are the wood of man." Travis starts grinning.

This stuff is REALLY BONE. And now it's BLEEDING. Yeah ... seriously, you wanna KEEP that shit?

Travis: "Roll a house-handling check."

Oh, so now all of this hinges on how good Liam does ... no pressure then ... DAMN SON!!! Killer rolls!

Orym is going to ATTACK THE BUILDING to stop it from cutting them off. And now it's BLEEDING ... although that does seem to have worked. And now he's having to run for his life. Nice escape, Liam!

Creepy little boy apparition!

Mathilda? WhoTF is Mathilda?

Wait ... IS THAT who Laudna used to be?

Oh shit ... this is totally sounding like some seriously fucked up traumatic moment from Laudna's childhood and I hate it. And I was totally right. That is just unpleasant.

Creepy apparition now sounds DANGEROUS to me. Let's not fuck with that.

Tracking Laudna ... please make this work. Oh ... sweet, Imogen, keep doing that!

The barn is USUALLY outside if town, but not today. Okay ...

Little girl Laudna/Mathilda seems quite adorable, actually.

Find the barn! Ah, there it is ... destination spotted! Now they just gotta get there. Oh! Second success! Nice.

Big tall thing! Beat the city! Roll good!

Travis: "Whoa, why can't we roll like that when we're actually fighting?"

STAGE WHISPER!!!

Crazy shark fin bone thing becomes THE CLAW!!! NOT GOOD!!!

Narrow escape! 15 foot tall skull. Cabinet of Dr Caligari? Damn, I never actually saw that ...

Okay, they're in the barn. Into the hayloft ...

Weird little makeshift toys ... yeah, that's our girl, definitely.

Little Laudna/Mathilda again ... okay ...

So jf they get her away from Delilah ... could this work?

Hey, they're a little child's drawings, you can't say they suck!

Ashton Greymoore, child psychologist. Awwww ...

Whoa ... so it's a trap. AAAAAAHHH!!!

Ashton: "I don't know if threats work here, but I'm gonna make one."

Wood or stone? Ask Chetney! "The tongue never lies!"

Wow, this is starting to look like that super scary bit in the pit in The Ruins! They need to get out NOW.

Cutting some holes, small medium and large! Not really working. Chetney tries fire while FCG does a secondary sawblade with Spiritual Weapon. Works A BIT better ...

Oh, so that shit REALLY doesn't like fire, that might be a clincher ...

Constitution saving throws? NOT GOOD!!! They lose one hit dice?

Chetney has DYNAMITE?!!! SERIOUSLY?!!!

Ashton: "It didn't work?" OF COURSE Matt chooses THAT moment to make it blow up.

Imogen bruises her bottom.

Structure Frogger.

Not that way, FCG!!!

Ooooh, a clue! Follow the firelight!

Teenage Laudna spirit: "I'm a little busy now, I'm getting dressed." OH SHIT!!!

Ashton removes the necklace from the doll. The doll IMMOLATES. Hmmmm ... necklace might be a good clue, though.

Orym: "The barn tried to eat everyone. I'm just saying." Ashton: "But we got a necklace."

Whoa! Laudna's home, back in the day! Oh fuck ... and they're getting ready to go to the dinner ...

Yeah ... this is starting to feel like another trap.

Imogen, to teenage Laudna/Mathilda: "When it starts to get scary, just come find us." Oh man ...

Oh wow ... so Laudna was her MOTHER'S NAME!!!

They're not her parents! Imogen: "Remember us!"

Okay ... one FAILURE!!! NOT GOOD!!!

Imogen: "Delilah, we're coming for ya. We made a promise ... bitch!"

Oh shit! COMBAT!!!

Sword Burst! Nice!

Fearne's not REALLY gonna try Speak With Animals on these things, is she? Oh, Poison Spray ... against spirits ... hmmm ...

ROLL INITIATIVE!!!

Orym + magic sword = badass.

Ashton gets rough with his hammer ... Chaos Burst! Sweet! And a Nat 20! DOUBLE sweet!

"Theatre ... of the Mind!"

14 points of Thunder Damage! Travis: "Whoa!"

Ashton: "Feels really good to hit somebody's parents."

Sacred Flame! Nice one FCG! 8 points of Radiant damage.

Sam uses his bonus action to plug D&D Beyond.

One of these things BURROW INTO FEARNE!!! Wait ... no effect? That's fucking WEIRD. Fearne is a BADASS.

Chetney gets the HDYWTDT, and STILL finds time to flirt with Fearne. Now THAT'S classy.

Okay ... looks likevoing to the tree is just an inevitability at this point. And now the path WANTS them to go there ... that can't be a good sign, can it?

Oh, that's right, if anybody hits zero hit points they're OUT! Heal them! Heal them!

Chetney and Imogen chug Potions of Possibility. Here we go ...

Taliesin, to Sam: "You're saying 'pump' far too much." Sam immediately starts saying it TWICE as much. Cue Arnie "pump it up!" impressions from Liam. (Because it's ALWAYS Liam.)

Fuuuuuuuuuuck ... it's Delilah! "Ah, fond memories."

Matt: "And we're gonna go to our break!"

Ashton and FCG dice guardians! Nice!

TLOVM season 2 sneaky peak! The Chroma Conclave attack! Fuck me that looks awesome ...

Ashley: "I stab you AGAIN!!!" Liam: "Oooh! That's two!" I love this Bard College of Tragedy skit! Ashley: "Just DIE already! Googe! Googe! The rest ... is SILENCE."

Okay ... here we go again ... showdown time!

What the fuck ... Sam, what yhe hell are you wearing NOW?!!! Gods, that's gonna be distracting ...

Whoa ... tree cage? That's GOTTA BE where Laudna is.

FCG tries to reason with Delilah. Delilah: "So you've ... come to give me THERAPY?"

Delilah calls FCG a "strange metal child". Ashton: "Aren't you technically OLDER than her?"

Chetney, no! Don't try to make a DEAL with this evil bitch! Delilah's not having it anyway.

Come on, she's lying her arse off ...

Oooh ... Travis gets some whispers, and Sam hasn't ad to plug now! XD

Imogen tries to communicate with Laudna, but Delilah's BLOCKING HER.

Know Your Enemy doesn't work here, not on a spectral being. Liam has to roll an insight check, instead.

Chetney: "We might be able to give Laudna back some life, although with her that's very much an air-quote."

FCG's actually ASKING Delilah how to break the bond. Okay, is that actually gonna work?

Delilah's actually giving them some proper exposition. I love how Ashley's full on LEANING INTO IT, she's SO fascinated ...

Ashton gets in a free dig at Percy as he's stating his case. XD

Delilah admits she finds this all terribly boring. Travis starts laughing his arse off.

Imogen tells Delilah she knows she's fading. Delilah: "Do you know where I'm fading to?"

Okay ... Chetney's TOTALLY bluffing Delilah just so he can get her to bring Laudna out. Roll deception check ... TRAVIS ROLLS A NAT FUCKING TWENTY!!! But Delilah rolls a 26 ... hmmm ...

Oh wait ... she's going for it anyway?

Laudna is revealed ... MARISHA IS COMING INTO THE STUDIO!!! Eventually ...

Matt is now directing this directly to Marisha as she's IN HIS CHAIR!!! This is STRANGE.

Laudna is very trapped still ... and now the branches are closing again and HE'S SENDKNG HER AWAY AGAIN!!!

Imogen just loses it and ATTACKS DELILAH!!! ROLL INITIATIVE!!!

Another sweet battle map!

Sam's right, they've totally forgotten what Delilah's actually capable of in a fight ...

Initiative order ... Travis, in DEEP Chetney werewolf voice: "FEAR ME ... Natural 1." Everybody cracks up.

Laura: "It's mental." Cue everyone saying "mental" in Sid Vicious style ...

Holy fuck ... raging, Ashton is gonna LAUNCH ORYM AT THE TREE with his hammer! This is either gonna be spectacular or bloody AWFUL.

Liam rolls beautifully ... and Taliesin blows it BIG TIME ... but Orym is STILL gonna make a run for the tree anyway.

There are two different conversations going om at once and I'm finding it VERY hard to follow ...

Oh dear ... Ashton takes 23 points of Necrotic damage!

Lair Action? NOOOOOOO!!!

The Nega Sun Tree! Sam's vocalisations are sending me big time. XD

Aaaaaaaaah! Stabby stabby! And most of it's aimed at Imogen ... but she has a Mote of Possibility! Yes! Only HALF damage!

Delilah blows them a kiss ... and summons skeletal warriors! Gah! Children of the Dragon's Teeth!

Chetney tears off the bottom half of his body to wolf out! XD he just SHRUGS OFF that damage ... and CHUCKS his chisel at Delilah! AND he hits her! Holy fuck!

Weird symbolic white wolf going awooo! Nice ...

He picks up his chisel and CHUCKS IT AGAIN!!! 21 TO HIT!!! 12 points of damage ... wait ... no, the Sun Tree is SOAKING UP the damage? Really?

FCG does Turn Undead! Nice! And ... yes! He vaporises FOUR if the skeletons!

Bonus action ... Travis: "Bone-us action?" Urgh ... I just took psychic damage from that ...

FCG casts Spritual Weapon ... and it lookes like Pate! Awwwwww ... 6 points of Force damage. The shield dissipates and Delilah actually TAKES DAMAGE!!!

Fearne sends Mister to find Laudna in the tree ... but first throw some flaming shit! XD 9 ... yeah, that's a miss ...

Whoa ... Fearne uses her red thread to STRANGLE Delilah and pull her to the ground! Nice!

Sam: "You remember when Marisha came back to the studio for 10 seconds?" Travis: "And she had, like, NO IDEA what was going on?" Sam: "She just looked terrified for all if us."

CALL RUIDUS?!!! WTF?!!! Liam: "Secret moon shit!"

Holy fuck, that shit was BADASS CUBED!!!

Orym parkours like a mad mother! And rolls a 13 ... balls. He tries again ... 17! Yeah! Not close, but he's up there now! Orym: "We're coming! I promise we're coming!"

Ashton just POWDERS that MOFO with his hammer. Then guns the Potion of Possibility.

Gah ... Lair Action again! Everybody but Orym!

The roots burst out so intensely they BUST MATT'S BRACELET!!! XD

Taliesin rolls crap and Ashton gets DRAGGED.

Sam, singing: "Huuungry vines!"

Orym, Ashton and FCG all take bad hits ... Ashley's panicking! Wait! Taliesin uses the Mote and lessens the damage ...

Liam has to roll to see if Orym holds on ... NATURAL 20!!! The group goes wild!

Oh fuck! FCG drops to 0 hit points ... HE'S GONE!!! FCG IS OUT of the Spirit World! Sam leaves the table to go join Marisha ...

Chetney uses FIRE!!! Burns some bad guys!

This is getting bad ... Liam looks SO STRESSED right now!

Mister chucks some vlzming shit at the Sun Tree ... because it's A TREE, it burns. A LOT.

Fearne starts using fire on it as well, aims for the roots. Cue the group chanting: "The roots, the roots, the roots are on fire!"

The tree is REALLY burning now, people!

Fearne fires her third fistful of fire at the tree and she's LOOKING RIGHT AT DELILAH while she does it! So badass ... "Oh I'm sorry, is that hurting you?"

Yes. Yes it VERY MUCH IS.

Laura debates whether to hit Delilah or the tree. Liam: "Don't worry, only a beloved character hangs in the balance."

Fucking Legendary Resistance ...

Liam takes another Acrobatic check ... NATURAL 20!!! Matt: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!!"

Orym tries to cut through the cage ... the tree's already fucked up, so IT WORKS!!! Wait ... Laudna's been drawn deeper ... but the tree loses one of its Legendary Actions!

Delilah is fuvked up ... and she turns into a crazy evil THING!!!

40 points of Necrotic damage on Orym?!! Fuck ... wee man is GONE!!! Liam leaves the table too ...

Ashton chuvkd dynamite into the Tree ... BOOM!!! 3 D6 damage ... 12 points!

Gah ... fucking Lair Actions again ... she's shielded! Fuck! She casts Blight on Imogen, Laura has to save ... Nice roll! Wait ... HZLF damage us 21 POINTS?!!! Fuck ...

Chetney's up ... Travis, singing with frustration: "Ooooh ... nipples oh a hoooooooorse ..." casts Inflict Wounds! Rolls 15, uses the Mote and rerolls ... NO!!! NATURAL 1!!! ARGH!!!

Taliesin and Laura are whispering furtively to each other ... what are they thinking?

Fearne is really fucking the tree up BAD with fire now ...

Ashley: "All fight, D4, where are you ... WHERE THE FUCK?!!!"

Mister chucks his poop, snd Matt does his monkey impression ... gods, I really love it when he does that. XD

Delilah attacks Imogen ... she uses the Mote to force her to reroll ... Laura tells a NATURAL 20!!! AND MATT ROLLS A NATURAL 1!!! ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!!!

Oh dilemma ... use her last spell or save it to contact Pike? Everybody else: "EMPTY YHE CLIP!!!"

35 points of Lightning damage on the tree, she splits it open ... HOW DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS!!! Everybody LOSES IT!!!

Holy fuck ... Ddlilah just got DISINTEGRATED!!!

Everybody wakes up back in Pike's home ... Matt: "And THAT'S where we're going to end tonight's episode!" The whole (remaining) group goes NUTS!!!

Wait, so ... what does that MEAN?!!! Did they win? Is it over? Did they save Laudna? Is she back? Gods DAMN IT, Mercer!

[stressedoutcanary]

Do You Ever Feel Like A Misfit (Everything Inside You Is Dark & Twisted)

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K (I don't know how tf that happened)

Warnings: Explicit language, Blood and Violence, lots of angst, Hurt/Comfort ✌

A/N: Guess who's back! Just for some context the reader is a magic user and her style is similar to that of Zatanna <3

•°•°•°•°

She’d have reasoned with herself that stealing from one of the most secure and heavily guarded safe-houses of a deranged sociopath was probably not the brightest idea she’s had all day. It never even made it on her to-do-list for the weekend, but here she was, running across rooftops, holding on to the stolen totem like her life depended on it, it probably did. The three assassins sent after her were no Lady Shiva or Talia Al Ghul but they weren’t exactly amateurs either. The deep cuts and two broken ribs she got from their earlier encounter were proof of that.

She glanced back and even though there was no sign of her would-be-killers she knew better than to assume they’d just let her be. They were sticking to the shadows, exploiting her blind spots. The only thing she was sure of was that they were still hot on her trail and would happily plunge a dagger into her back given the opportunity.

She was right. As of this moment she hated being right.

She caught the glint of the two sharp objects slicing through the air, hurtling towards her at full speed. A slight shift of her upper body was all she could manage as one of the daggers got embedded right into her scapula while the other one, fortunately so, whirled past her, slightly grazing her left hip. The impact of the blade on her shoulder made her lose what little balance she had left. Despite her best efforts, when the wounded shoulder made contact with the hard concrete, a loud, ear-piercing cry ripped out from her throat before she could push it back down.

Cursing under her breath she knew, she knew all she had were those few seconds of numbness and disorientation to get a grip and figure out her exit strategy. However, all her hopes started to sink as she saw one of the assassins come closer, appearing more of a blur than a person. Then again that was probably because of the nice, little concussion she got from her fall. The assassin walked over to her, unsheathed their sword and placed it right on her neck, blocking any and every way out.

“You were warned. The Demon’s Head does not tolerate treachery. We are here under his orders to bring back the totem along with the witch’s head; your head”

If she could, she would’ve rolled her eyes at the classic villainous dialogues thrown at her.

“Witch? Who’re you calling a witch Snow White? I’m clearly a sorceress, don’t they teach you the difference between the two in assassin school or something? Hell, I’d even let you call me an enchantress, though that name’s already been taken but you get my poin-” 

The remaining words died in her throat as the sword on her neck shifted slightly. She knew she had extremely poor self preservation skills considering she’s clearly been instigating the very person sent to kill her, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to keep talking when the tiniest movement on either part could result in her having a severed jugular or carotid. 

‘This is a pretty shitty way to die’ 

She thought back to how she used the last of her mystic energy to hide the totem away before her fall and how stupid that decision really was because now she could actually feel the agonizing pain coming from her shoulder. It started to spread throughout her back like wildfire, eyelids grew heavy against her wishes. Suddenly she felt really tired and the idea to close her eyes just felt so goddamn appealing. 

‘No (Y/N) that’s the blood loss talking. Blood loss doesn’t get to make decisions’, she mentally scolded herself, still not breaking her eye contact with the person standing above her.

“Give us what you stole and we shall grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, “Ah, lemme think...the correct response here would be…”, she hummed, making a show of how hard she was thinking about the offer she was granted, “How about a fuck you? How would that do for you?”, she gave them a vicious grin, it was all teeth.  They probably weren’t impressed by her response and it showed.

She knew there was no way out but she had promised herself once that if she were to die, that if she ever goes out, she’d be anything but a whimpering and sobbing mess. She was scared shitless, more so than she’d ever been while fending off the league, she won’t deny that but she would rather die than let them know that.  ‘Well at least I got that ‘rather die’ part down to a T.’ she thought, eyeing the sharpness of the blade which was now raised up in the air

She felt bad for just giving up the way she did. Her whole life she was told to fight her way through the impossible, to attain the strength rivaling that of Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine and Doctor Fate himself. To be better than them, and there she was lying on the ground limp as a sword came down on her throat; all for a silly necklace. She would’ve huffed out a laugh if only her ribs weren’t broken, if only her body wasn’t screaming in pain, if only she had a way out. She didn’t. She was too tired, too drained, too numb to do anything else. Closing her eyes she stopped fighting, she let her growing unconsciousness claim her.

‘This is what you deserve anyway’, her barely there conscience remarked.

‘Fuck you too.’ she replied.

Everything went pitch black. The darkness encompassing her was peaceful, unlike the pain she had felt before. It was nice for a change. It sounded pathetic  but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

•°•°

 When she came to, the first thing she observed was the feeling of something soft against her back, next was a dull rhythmic sound which she realized was her own heartbeat. Though opening her eyes was a tiring task. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. She used all the energy she had into it and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling and stayed like that for a few seconds; a few minutes? She couldn’t tell, but the pain was back now, not too much but enough to tell her it was there, to tell she was still alive.

She saw something shift in her peripheral vision and her body instinctively went stiff. Her mind which was blank before now ran in all directions.

‘Could be Ra’s Al Ghul… Could be worse’, she tried not to think about the worst case scenario, but she knew she had pissed off a lot of beings, beings far more powerful and far crueler than Ra’s himself. An involuntary shudder passed through her at the thought. That must’ve caught her captor’s attention as she felt the person move closer to her. Begrudgingly, she tore her gaze from the spot on the ceiling which she had been staring at this whole time and tilted her head. The man in black and blue who appeared, was probably the last person she had expected to see.

“Nightwing…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and the hoarseness with which it came out it took her by surprise, but her body visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar figure, at the sight of someone who would never hurt her.  

She watched him pull out a chair from the desk nearby. He sat next to the bed she was lying on and gave her a soft smile, a smile that spelled one word ‘relieve’. She remembered how when she first met him two years ago, she found that particular smile extremely annoying, she had no reason to, but she did. What she couldn’t remember was when she had grown so fond of it.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

He snorted a laugh which made her pout. She was planning to point out how he was being mean; laughing at her when her response truly defined the way she was feeling, but any words she thought of were cut off by the change in his expression. His smile faltered, lips were now pressed in a thin line, face contorted in a way which showed his genuine concern.

“This is the second time, this week.”

That you almost died, he didn’t say. That I had to save you and bring you back from the clutches of death, he didn’t say.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

The silence that settled, stretched far too long for comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She wanted to, but there was nothing she could say, that would make it better. Nightwing ran his fingers through the locks of hair, burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since she woke up, she took in his appearance, he looked disheveled,  his suit was torn in different places along visible faint cuts, most likely he got them when he rescued her. She felt a pang of guilt rising in her chest. He risked his life for her, she knew he had done it before, she didn’t get it then and she didn’t get it now. Why would someone do that? Why would he? She was pulled back from her spiraling thoughts when he spoke again, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at him like he had grown another head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation but by the looks of it they were gonna have it anyway.

“What if I hadn’t been there today? Or any of the other days you almost died. What then?”

“My best guess? I would’ve been dead.”

“And that fact doesn’t bother you at all?!”

She flinched at little when his voice rose, but she stood her ground, at least figuratively since she was still in bed.

“I don’t know, should it?” She didn’t try and tone down the venom dripping from her words. Her words cut deeper than the wounds he got from the assassins; she saw it clear as day on his face. She let out a deep sigh but continued. She had to get it out and he had to hear it, that’s the reason she gave herself for the confession that followed.

“I don’t need your help, Dick. I don’t know what gave you the impression that I did but I’ve never needed it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why was it getting harder to speak?’ “I don’t need you to save me every time. I don’t need you to risk your life for me and I definitely don’t…” She moved to sit up straight, her back resting on the headboard. She shifted her gaze on her open palms resting in her lap; palms covered in blood, in her blood, not very long ago.

“I don’t need you to care...”

The last part was a whisper and Dick was silent, so silent that for a brief moment she wondered if the man she’d come to care about even heard her, admitting something that was so painful for her to say out loud.

Dick moved to sit beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He didn’t know where all this was coming from but he knew better to leave it unattended.

“(Y/N) I help you because I care about you. I always will, you know that.”

“Why? You have nothing to gain from it”, blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at him with a hurt expression as if she couldn’t bring herself to understand.

“Why… as in why do I care?”, Dick tilted his head to look her in the eyes, trying to understand what she meant all the while making sure not to let his own surprise at her words show. She nodded not trusting her voice to not betray her anymore than it already had.

“I don’t care about you because I feel like you need it nor because I would gain something from it”, Dick knew he shouldn’t have to explain it to her. He briefly wondered what she had gone through to make her think that she needed to be useful to be cared for or that she had to need it to be cared for. He felt something pull at his heart at the thought; It was sorrow.

“I care about you because… well I do and there’s nothing you could or couldn’t do to change that. And it is because I care about you that I ask you to be better at taking care of yourself. Now I know for a fact that whatever you stole from The League’s safehouse definitely did not belong there, but I also know that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth your life (Y/N) It never will be.”

Dick grasped one of her hands, interlacing his gloved fingers with hers; she hadn’t even realized she was shaking until he did so. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath despite her protesting ribs. Opening the palm of her free hand she muttered an incantation with practiced ease

“Eveirter tahw saw neddih “, her hand glowed, the golden aura taking the shape of a object. When the light subsided, Dick saw the object in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it, quietly leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It was this totem. It belongs to Madame Xanadu. Don’t know what Ra’s wanted it for though”, she shrugged as best as she could with an injured shoulder then continued, voice firmer than it had been the whole evening,“ She asked me to retrieve it in exchange for information on a girl I was looking for. The girl was somehow sucked into some other dimension, a mystic one and her mother was so desperate when she approached me that I just couldn’t say no. So when I say the Totem was important, then I want you to know that it really is.”

Dick shook his head at that. “Still not worth your life.”

“Dick…”, she sighed. It was all she could do at the moment because she was really getting tired from all the arguing.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean the time I met the infamous vigilante Nightwing in a dumpster of all places.”

“In my defense I was badly injured”, she hummed in agreement.

“You smelled bad”

“You try smelling like flowers after falling from a building and into an open dumpster.”

His playful grumbling pulled a short laugh out of her. She was more than a little confused at the sudden trip into the past but happily accepted it as a change of topic. She should’ve know better than to think he’d have let the matter go.

“Anyway my point is when you saw me that day, you first instinct was to help me. You pulled me out and used your magic to heal my wounds. You didn’t have to. You could’ve dropped me at a hospital. You could’ve even walked away and pretended that you never saw me, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I thought you were handsome?”, she said trying to lighten this too-heavy-for-comfort conversation he was trying to have.

“Nice try. I know you. You saved me because you cared. You helped me and the Titans save the city more than once because you cared. It is who you are. I’ve seen you care about and worry over complete strangers without conditions. So why do you think that there has to be some kind of a barter system when it comes to you? Why think that I would want to gain something if I cared about you?”

“Because everyone else did.”

The words shot out from her mouth quicker than she realized. She had voiced her greatest insecurity to the one person who never had anything to add to it and Dick’s heart clenched at the implications of her words, ‘She has never been loved unconditionally before’ his brain provided.

The tears she blinked back earlier came back with full force. She felt two strong arms that wrapped around her, all the while being mindful of her injuries. Dick pulled her into a hug and that was it. She couldn’t control the sobs that tore through her throat, the pain in her body flared due her erratic movements. She knew once the tears started flowing they wouldn’t stop at least not for a while, but now that her façade had been broken she couldn’t bring herself to give it another thought.

He waited for her to let it out, let out all the pent up emotions she had. Now that he thought about it he had never seen her cry. He never questioned it, maybe he should’ve.

“I don’t know who’s responsible for hurting you (Y/N), God, how much I wish I did”, his arms slightly tighten around her at that. “I am so sorry that you have felt like you have to have your walls up all the time, even around me and I should’ve seen that, I should’ve realized that before but I didn’t and I am so sorry for that. I can’t undo the damage you’ve endured and I will not pretend that I can. What I can do is promise you that I’d never let you down like that, never.”

The words he spoke were clear. He didn’t try to tell her to put her walls down, to trust him when she had no reason to. He also didn’t need to justify himself or make such over the top promises but it felt nice to hear it. She had already stopped crying the moment he started speaking again but she still had her forehead pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it was calming in a way she couldn’t describe. She pulled her head back to look at him, and the honesty in his voice earlier matched the one in his eyes.

“Okay”

Hearing her response, he gave her his signature grin. It sent unexpected warmth through her, he always had that effect on her. She was sure she was just blushing at this point and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the room. 

She ended up composing herself rather quickly, jabbing a finger at his armored chest with her usual smirk plastered on her face.

“Now that you’ve made that promise, know this, Dick Grayson, if you let me down I will drop a mountain on you.”

“You mean that figuratively?”

“No I mean that geologically”, he waited for her to say she was kidding. She didn’t.

“Alright, alright”, He held his hands out in mock surrender. After considering the look in her eyes, Dick refrained from questioning the feasibility of that action nor did he want to question her magical abilities or intent. Last he remembered, Wally did that and that conversation ended with him being teleported to Sahara and Dick would very much like to avoid the same fate as his best friend.

Deciding that was more than enough exhaustion for one night, he got up from the bed and kissed her goodnight, informing her that he’d be sleeping on the couch so that he wouldn’t accidently hit her injuries in his sleep. She agreed and watched him slip out of the room before falling into the blissful sleep she had been putting off since forever.

•°•°

She knew Dick Grayson was full of surprises but the next morning when he put forward the offer of become a full time Titan, in front of her, she wondered if she fell from the bed in her sleep and ended up  getting another concussion because he was so not making any sense.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to come live with you and your superhero friends, in the Titans freaking Tower?!”

“I was hoping for a little less yelling after an emotional evening but yes that is exactly what I’m asking.”

“Dick that’s just ridiculous!”

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He looked like a kicked puppy which made her feel kinda guilty for all the yelling.

“It’s not that…It’s just there is still a lot about me I haven’t told them. There is still a lot I haven’t told you. I don’t see a reason why you all would want to trust a possible threat, let alone live with it”, she gestured to herself.

Dick felt like there was a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she was voicing her own fear rather than theirs but he trusted her enough to tell him about it when she was ready, on her own terms. He could wait till then but for now he crossed the short distance between them, going around the breakfast table till he stood in front of her. He grasped both of her hands in his and ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and then moved to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N), I know you and I trust you and…It sounds silly considering I was raised by the worlds greatest detective but I believe that you don’t have to know every little detail about someone as long as you already know what’s in their heart.” Bruce probably would’ve disagreed but he wasn’t Bruce.

“And you know what’s in mine?”

“And I know what’s in yours.” His statement was firm and left no room for argument, not when it came to this.

“If you’re sure about this, then I guess...”

“Is that a yes I’m hearing?”, There was that smile again, seriously what was up with him and his smile that made her giddy inside.

In between thoughts she realized he was still waiting for a response so she nodded. Any underlying doubts she had about her answer vanished when she took in how happy it made him. As cheesy as it sounded seeing him happy made her happy. A part of her said it wouldn’t last long, but seeing her boyfriend hop onto the couch full of joy as he called his friends about the latest development in their lives, she wanted to believe otherwise.    

°•°•°•°•

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Suicide Squad Team A

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS! Seriously, as soon as you click that read more, you’re gonna be smacked with SPOILERS! Don’t say I didn’t give you ample warning this time!)

The world’s in danger yet again, and Amanda Waller is in need of some expendable forces to take on some dirty jobs in the name of preserving peace. Last time she did this, it seems like she hired the wrong people. Nice guy Will Smith Deadshot? Bland, boring Killer Croc? El Diablo, who became attached to a bunch of reprobates after spending a couple hours with them? The only one who was useful in that squad was Katana. She had their backs, could cut all of them in half with one sword stroke just like mowing the lawn, and her sword traps the souls of its victims. Unfortunately, she was decidedly not expendable, so what is a girlboss like Waller to do?

Easy: Assemble a brand new squad of criminals to do the dirty work. Harley and Boomerang are the only ones she brought back, because let’s be real, they’re the only ones we give a damn about. Filling out the rest of the squad are the stoic, craggy crackshot Savant; the handsome, German spear-thrower Javelin; the alien warrior Mongal; the frothing, psychotic animal Weasel; the confident and all-powerful TDK; and Blackguard, who is literally just a guy. Together, this team gets deployed to Corto Maltese to do what no one else can do, and with skills like theirs, they are absolutely unstoppable!

They all fucking die before the opening credits.

Motivation/Goals: Considering the goal of the squad is to shave time off their prison sentences by going on the mission, it’s ostensibly the reason every single one of these goons accepted the job. Savant and Weasel are pretty well established in this regard; we get to focus on Savant for much of the opening, so we can get a sense of him, and Weasel is stated to have murdered no less than 27 children. So, yeah, they need to do this mission.

The rest, though? Who knows! Why are Mongal, Javelin, and TDK in prison? How did they even get an alien like Mongal? What did they do to land in the position they’d need to go on a suicide mission? Why doesn’t this movie have flashy, intrusive cards explaining everything to us in a throwaway gag in a montage?!

Blackguard, at least, has some other motivation. He sold out the entire squad to the military of Corto Maltese, which is why they’re ambushed. Now, there’s actually some ambiguity here: Did he do this of his own volition, and was this a complete surprise, or is it, as it is heavily implied, all part of Waller’s plan and she let this happen as a diversion for the other team to get in unnoticed?

Honestly, though, it doesn’t matter what their goals are. They’re all dead within five minutes of the movie starting, with one exception.

Performance: So, the reason these guys are even worth talking about is because, despite their minuscule screentime, all of their actors manage to cram in enough humor and characterization that they’re all pretty fun and likable. Michael Rooker is as stony and stoic as ever as Savant (until he hilariously isn’t), Flula Borg’s Javelin is really sweet and charming in his interactions with Harley, and Pete Davidson’s Blackguard is just amazingly douchey and pathetic. Special mention goes to Nathan Fillion’s TDK, who has an utterly endearing and unwavering faith in his astoundingly crappy ability to… detach his arms. It’s honestly kind of beautiful. Then there’s Weasel as portrayed by Sean Gunn, who is just a hilarious crackhead of an animal man.

Final Fate: Literally every single one of them die horribly thanks to Blackguard’s betrayal. He’s the first to go, because as soon as he walks out saying “Hey guys, it’s me, the one who contacted you!” he literally has his face blasted clean off. The rest go soon after. Mongal, in one of the most astounding moments of idiocy I’ve ever seen, leaps on a helicopter despite Rick Flag telling her specifically not to. Her weight and strength send it careening out of control, which leads to it shredding Captain Boomerang to bits before exploding, burning her alive as she painfully screams and writhes in agony. TDK gets his arms shot into Swiss cheese, leading to him bleeding out since even detached they still are part of him. Javelin is also shot, but gets a dying moment with Harley where he passes her Checkov’s Javelin. Finally, after witnessing all of this carnage, Savant completely loses his shit and tries to swim away, leading to Waller blowing his head up.

You may be wondering what happened to Weasel. He appears to drown as soon as the Squad deploys, because despite being actually smart in this movie, Waller forgot to make sure everyone on the Squad could swim. Thankfully, this lovable child-murdering crackhead rodent was just sleeping, and wakes up in the first credit scene.

Best Scene: Obviously, it’s their one and only scene. It’s a magnificent slaughter that puts the X-Force scene from Deadpool 2 to shame.

Final Thoughts & Score: I’ve gotta hand it to James Gunn. Even though these losers are only onscreen for a few minutes, they all get to cram a lot of charm and personality into that time, to the point it’s actually kind of sad seeing them all die. It’s a beautiful mix of comedy and tragedy. Since their screentime is so limited, though, I’m mostly going to be grading them on style, performance, and so on rather than on villainy like normal. They are all bad guys, as they don’t really get a chance to redeem themselves like the other Squad, so I’m still counting them as villains, which means they could potentially score above an 8 (which is the highest score I’m willing to give heel-face turn villains, because they end up being better as characters in general than as villains).

I’m also not going to talk about Boomerang (I’ll talk about him when I review the original Squad) or Harley (because she not only lives, but deserves her own solo Psycho Analysis). Now here we go, from best to worst:

TDK

If you thought anyone but TDK would get top marks, you’re sadly mistaken. Seeing Nathan Fillion proudly wield the insanely lame power to detach his arms to lightly tap soldiers on the head and gently grab their guns is a sight I never knew I needed to see until this movie. The fact he just seems so darn proud about this power that he doesn’t even bother to use in any way that would be remotely useful is honestly really endearing. Frankly, the sheer fact they adapted Arms-Fall-Off Boy in any way is enough for me to give him a 10/10.

Weasel

Weasel is just disgustingly delightful. He’s just a horrible, nasty, ugly little bastard… But he’s kind of adorable? He clearly has no idea where he is at any given time and is just so goddamn freaky that I can’t help but love him. The fact that, despite being a character who in the comics is noteworthy only for dying on his first mission with the Squad, he manages to survive the entire movie is pretty impressive. Hopefully he comes back in the future, but either way he gets an 8/10 from me.

Javelin

Honestly, aside from Boomerang, his death stung the most. He’s just so cute and charming, and he doesn’t even get to fling his javelin at anyone! Thankfully, he passes it on to Harley, and boy does she ever get to use it! He’s so cute, I have to give him an 8/10. I just wish we got more of him.

Savant

Savant is just an absolutely hilarious bait-and-switch. We follow him through the prologue, with everything seeming to point to him as our main character and the Squad leader. He’s stoic, he’s cranky, and he has impeccable aim… and then we get to the beach and he just freaks the hell out and starts screaming and crying and running away like a little bitch. Seeing Michael Rooker act like he’s shitting his pants after playing a badass like Yondu is just the sort of hilarious subversiveness that James Gunn loves to do when you let him loose. The fact that he looks like, to paraphrase the TVTropes YMMV page for the movie, a “cyberpunk Tommy Wiseau” is the icing on this 7/10 cake.

Blackguard

I was prepared to hate this guy just based on how lame Pete Davidson’s costume was, and you know what? I do hate him. But I love to hate him. He’s just an utterly pathetic scoundrel and a coward, true to his name. The fact he is the first to die, as just about everyone predicted, and is killed absolutely gruesomely makes any annoyance he could provide moot, and his freeakout over being seated next to Weasel on the plane is actually kind of funny. I was originally going to give him a 6, but you know what? He can have a low 7/10. He’s like the only member of this particular Squad to actually do anything evil, so I gotta give him props for that.

Mongal

Let me make this perfectly clear: I do not blame James Gunn or actress Mayling Ng. I’m not actually mad at either of them for what they chose to do, because it is ultimately hilarious and sad. It suited the narrative of the film, and I’m not actually, genuinely mad.

With all that out of the way, Mongal is one hell of a stupid cunt. It is one thing to cause your own death with your stupidity, it is something else entirely to cause the death of a beloved character with your poorly planned attack. The fact she didn’t take into account how her weight and strength would effect an airborne helicopter makes one wonder if she is really supposed to be based on a character who can take on Superman and live to tell about it.

Let’s compare her to two similar characters to really show how bad she is. Like Blackguard, she is directly responsible for a death on the beach, Blackguard being responsible for everyone by selling them out and leading them into an ambush (and yes, I’m including him as well), and Mongal killing Boomerang with the chopper. The difference is, Blackguard’s betrayal was deliberate, he meant to sell the team out, he was actively doing something evil there, while Mongal killed Boomerang out of sheer idiocy.

Now, let’s compare her to Zeitgeist from the similar bloody massacre that occurred during X-Force’s deployment in Deadpool 2. Like Mongal, he accidentally kills a teammate. The difference is, in the case of Zeitgeist, he only accidentally melted Peter, it was a freak accident, and ultimately it does get undone by the end. Meanwhile, Mongal made a conscious, stupid decision and ended up killing her squadmate with her own idiocy. She sucks, hardcore. I don’t do this lightly, but I’m giving her a 1/10. Villains just don’t get much stupider than her.

I will giver her this, though: the makeup work on her is good. She’s lowkey kinda hot if I’m being honest. But being hot and having good makeup does not a good villain make.

[jimlingss]

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One]   Taehyung should be fucking you.   It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus.    The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it.   Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you.   “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.”   “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.”   “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar.   You suppose it was your fault to begin with.   All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive.    The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind.   “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?”   It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere.   “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!”   There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs.   The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter.    Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed.   “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old.    “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword.   You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort.   “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!”   You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you.   “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.”   He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”   Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!”   There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel.   Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.”   She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs.   Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!”    “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.”   It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims.   “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.”   The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt.   “Not too bad, right?”    Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt.   “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.”   “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?”   “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.”   But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch.    And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?”   You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.”   “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.”   You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”   “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.”   You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand.   “Is that...even sanitary?!”    You can’t imagine how many people have used it.   “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.”   “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.”   Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?”   “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.”   Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here.   “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well.   When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate.   “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period.   “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another.   “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.”   “Damn straight.”   The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.”   You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?”   “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.”   She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs.   Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.”   “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation.   “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.”   “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.”   “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.”   Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.”   It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night.   The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious.   It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide.   “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!”   Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.”   “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks.   After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet.   It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling.   The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it.   Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?”   “Mhmh...”    You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket.   “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?”   “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?”   “About half an hour?”   Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth.   “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.”   You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush.    In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember.   And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband.   Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?”   “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.”   He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.”   You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.”   A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.”   “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.”   “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.”   After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two]   Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows.   “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting.   “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.”   “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.”   “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—”   “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him.    It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible.   Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics.   “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!”   “Don’t you trust me?”   You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?”   The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do.   There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses.   You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun.   Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.”   You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions.    “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.”   “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been.   But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too.   “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.”   What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard.   “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.”   You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy.   “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.”   Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.”   You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt.   The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times.   “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo.   “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?”   “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?”   Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.”   “We’re going on a hike?!”   “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation.   The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join.   Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline.    No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group.   Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?”   “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are.    “I can carry you if you want.”   “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs.    You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac.   “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again.   “Isn’t this better?”   “Aren’t you tired?”   “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.”   You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall.    There, you’re finally on set on your feet again.   You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.”   He grins and downs it.   Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts.   “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient.   “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.”   “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.”   “I can take it for you.”   “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing.   A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?”   Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.”   She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.”   Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.”   The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?”   “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.”    It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish.   “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.”   Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?”   You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.”   “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone.   “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.”   His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.”   “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents.   “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.”   Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.”   She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.”   “T-two weeks?” you sputter.   Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.”   Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman.   It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood.   “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.”   “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.”   Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.”   “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously.   Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?”   “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.”   She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…”   But his voice drowns out.   You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you.   The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt.    “What’s wrong?”   You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?”   “You’ve just been quiet.”   “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?”   His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”   “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.”   “That’s not true.”   “We forget to buy food all the time.”   “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins.   You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.”   “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.”   “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.”   You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.”   “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.”   “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile.   Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.”   You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it.   It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.”   It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub.   “Is it warm?”   Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled.   “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?”   “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink.   “What are you doing?”   “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties.   After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver.   “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!”   Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and—   “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac.   “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?”   “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.”   You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?”   “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air.   You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude.    You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge.   Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat.   “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek.   “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder.   He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.”   “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule.   “Let them hear.”   He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness.    Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try.    Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.”    “Yeah, and I know you like it.”   He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach.   “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?”   “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.”   “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control.   The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist.    Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?”   You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it.    “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.”   “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.”   A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices.   “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.”   “What?”   “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed.   He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?”   “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.”   “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.”   “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.”   “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff.    Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance.   You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully.   “How was it?”   “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder.   “No.”   “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.”   “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?”   “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.”   You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg.   Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?”   “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.”   “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?”   “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room.   Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles.    With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction.   “Okay. Ready?”   “Uh-huh.”   The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.”   “Now what?”   “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble.   “T-Taehyung!”   “Good?”   “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote.   He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.”   Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!”   “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard.   It clatters to the ground.   “Oh shit.”   “Taehyung!”   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.”   He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma.   You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy.   The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons.   “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.”   “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.”   Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.”   He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him.    When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat.   He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.”   “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck.   “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.”   It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing.   He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm.   “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.”   He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.”   Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three]   There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all.   “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil.   “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table.    Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you.   You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do.   But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!”   You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.”   Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?”   Taehyung grins. “Probably.”   “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?”   “Sure.”   You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself.    It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you.    Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot.   But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge.   “Remember Bali?”   “When you lost your passport?”   “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.”   “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.”   He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”   You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?”   “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?”   You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.”   “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.”   “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?”   “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.”   “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?”   None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.”   “You and I both know that’s not true.”   “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water.   There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠—   “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has.   “What?”    “Wanna take a dip?”   Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?”   “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does.   “God, it’s so cold!”    The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you.   “It’s freezing, Taehyung!”   “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?”   You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.”   “Why?”   “You know I can’t swim.”   His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.”   Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.”   “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”   You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.”   “You only like me?”   “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.”   Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff.   You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore.   “Who would?”   “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.”   “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you.   The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds.   “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat.   After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again.   You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock.   He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four]   Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before.   He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone.   But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you.   Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls.   “Morning.”   You sheepishly grin. “Morning.”    “What time did you get up?”   “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.”   “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun.   The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over.   “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.”   But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering.   Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin.   “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.”   He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile.   As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy.   //   The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks.   “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…”   “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.”   What.   Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.”   “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice.   “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.”   “What were you talking about?”   “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.”   “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.”   “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand.   “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”   You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.”   The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.”   As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?”   “Yeah. It was nice.”   Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly.    As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.”   “Second...partner?”    “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.”   “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away.   “Do you want an open relationship too?”   “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.”   He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?”   “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?”   “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.”    Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife.   “Are you jealous?”   “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.”   “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins.   “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.”   //   Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner.   “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.”   You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—”   “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.”   You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.”   Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.”   “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?”   It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees.   The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off.   But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists.   You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too.   He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round.   You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five]   The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry.   “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.”   “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.”   “Yes, I really loved it.”   “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.”   You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures.    “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.”   “So soon?”   Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands.   Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes.   Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats.   “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.”   He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours.   The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue]   This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous.   “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes.   “Are you divorcing me?”   “No.”   “Did you lose your job?”   “No.”   His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.”   “Yea— wait. What?”   Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?”   He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion.   “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.”   He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks.    It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face.   “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs.   “I sure am.”   He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?”   You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.”   He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”   Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement.   “We can always go back for the next kid.”   “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.”   “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile.   You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

[camelotsheart]

Alright. I’m watching 1x11 and trying a new way of liveblogging. Which is just me writing random paragraphs. Enjoy.

A creature of magic mourning the loss of a creature of magic 😭

“Arthur is a hunter. It's in his blood. Whereas you are something entirely different.“ reminds me of “He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.“ “You are wrong.” Especially with the way that Arthur then proves what is in his heart by the end of the episode, and how his ‘heart’ is shown to constantly guide him towards the ‘correct’ choice in s5 (e.g. “My heart says do anything I can to save Mordred.“)

“You've got a face like a wounded bear ever since we got back from that hunting trip." Arthur means bear. I have no idea what to do with this information.

The unicorn as a metaphor for those sorcerers who “do no harm” and thus Camelot serves no purpose in killing them. Especially since people like the Disir and Alator describe the purge as a “hunt”.

The drought serving as a parallel to the events that happened before the purge to Uther, in that Arthur sees all the harm that “magic” is doing to the land and his people, just like Uther witnesses Ygraine’s death. Arthur initially refuses to accept that what happens is caused by him, just like Uther does. But unlike Uther, Arthur is able to acknowledge his mistakes given time (it’s interesting how in the book adaptation of 1x02 merlin makes this comparison too)

“If it is magic, it's more powerful magic than I possess.“ So unicorn magic is more powerful than Merlin’s magic. Would dragon magic be more powerful too? Is that why Merlin couldn’t heal Arthur from the poison of Mordred’s sword tha was forged in a dragon’s breath?

Merlin not understanding hand signals is my life 😂💖

Ok I can literally draw so many parallels between Anhora and Arthur’s first conversation, and Nimueh and Uther’s conversation in 1x09. Especially from how both Arthur and Uther seem completely unable to understand how the ‘curse’ that happened to Ygraine and Camelot was technically their fault.

“And could you bear for your children to see you be executed?“ The way in which Arthur says this breaks my heart because he does understand the feeling of blaming himself for the loss of a parent, just like those hypothetical children would. This is highlighted more by the fact that Evan later plays on Arthur’s insecurities about being his father’s son.

“If you're tested again, you have a chance to end your people's suffering. I know you want that more than anything." Reminds me of what Bradley says about Arthur putting Camelot above everything, even his personal relationships. Compare this to Lancelot and Merlin, who’s “something that is more important than anything” is a person (or people, in the case of Lancelot).

I LOVE S1 MORGANA. S1 AND 2 MORGWEN WOULD HAVE MADE A PERFECT QUEEN DUO FIGHT ME.

Merlin’s face when Arthur says he’s going to the forest to seek Anhorra out 🥺 Also the way he looks back like he wants to see the exact moment Arthur figures out that he’s eating rat meat 🤣 Merlin’s sarcastic little nod. Arthur’s shit-eating grin. This is what I mean by sibling dynamics.

AND THEN THEY TURN ON MORGANA ASDJSAJASLDKKLDJSA. MERLIN. ARTHUR. NO 🤣🤣🤣

“The King must wonder if you are even his son.“ I absolutely do not like how Anhora chose to do the test with Evan here. I hate it. But it does prepare Arthur for a lot of things. It prepares him to do things his father normally would not do. It prepares him to ignore when people compare him to his father (not that it worked with Agravaine, but Arthur does eventually come around most of the time with Merlin’s help). I find it like a mini 5x03 in a way. Also the fact that Arthur doesn’t even try to defend himself by saying that the looter would have been executed by the law of the land anyway; because deep down he knows that reasoning is wrong. What needs to be changed currently is Arthur’s arrogance in regards to his honour, not his internal morals. He has already proven his internal morals with saving Mordred, laying down his life in 1x09, as well as rescuing Ealdor and his reaction to finding out Will was a sorcerer in 1x10. Right now, Arthur needs to be able to accept that he is wrong.

“Besides I would rather starve than beg my enemies for help! What of our kingdom's reputation? Have you no pride?” “I cannot think of my pride when our people go hungry. They're all I can think of.” I’m screaming over the fact that what ends up beating sense into Arthur is his love for his people. I want to cry. He loves his people so much that his battle cry is “for the love of Camelot” 😭❤️

“Very well. But if you'd caught the sorcerer, I would not have to. That's your responsibility! One day you will understand what it takes to be King!” One day, Uther, you’ll learn to blame yourself for other people’s suffering.

“My people are starving. Camelot is on the verge of collapse. And it is all my doing.“ IT DIDN’T EVEN TAKE ARTHUR A DAY TO LEARN THIS I WANT TO CRY 😭 FUCK YOU UTHER YOU DON’T DESERVE ARTHUR AT ALL. (also the fact that Arthur fiddles with Ygraine’s ring as he says this 😭❤️)

“I trust Arthur with my life” the fact that arthur proves that trust right both in this episode by drinking the goblet and in the previous episode by admitting that he “of course” would not kill Will despite thinking he was a sorcerer.

Why the hell does Anhora use a sword to cast the vine spell.

“I thought I told you to stay at home.” Every time Arthur calls Camelot ‘home’ for Merlin I 🥺

Are those carvings... horseshoes...? Making the shape of a heart....? I--

(Sorry guys. By this point it’s 200% certain that my shipper brain is going to take over. Please expect a lot of screaming)

“What kind of ridiculous test is that? What does that prove?” “What it proves is for you to decide.” Which means that by the end, Arthur realizes what this test proves. And he proves what is truly in his heart by sacrificing his life for merlin. Remember “To sacrifice his life to save Gwen’s... I can’t imagine any man loving me so much.” “I certainly can’t imagine that either” “That’s because you’re not like Merlin. He’s a lover” “Yeah? Maybe that’s because I haven’t found the right person to love”. Remember how in the book adaptation this episode, it says that Arthur proves that there is love in his heart by giving his life for Merlin? Remember “there was magic at the heart of Camelot”? Remember how in the book version Arthur doesn’t deny having love in his heart when Anhora says so when the Unicorn lives again, and instead turns his head to smile at Merlin--

“I’m glad you’re here, Merlin.” @thebookluvrr1816​ More 1x11-finale parallels to scream about 😭 The book version describes Merlin’s surprise at this statement, and how he thought it was “ironic and unfair” that they understood each other "at the very moment that death was about to tear them apart.”

“No, I will drink it!” “As if I’d let you.” Someone stop these dollopheads from having a domestic about who will die for the other i beg

“You know me, Merlin. I never listen to you.” reminds me of “I’m the king Merlin, you can’t tell me what to do.” “I always have. I’m not going to change now.” Also, in the books Arthur actually says “farewell, Merlin” after this. Book Arthur is way more suave just saying.

HOW ARTHUR LOOKS INTO MERLIN’S EYES IN HIS FINAL MOMENTS UNTIL HE ISN’T PHYSICALLY ABLE TO ANYMORE. SOMEONE HELP ME 😭

“This was Arthur's test, not yours.“ idk but this reminds me of the fisher king saying “For this is not Arthur's quest, it is yours.“

“You've killed him! I was meant to protect him!” This is going to sound harsh but by this point I think Merlin was still putting Arthur’s destiny above Arthur himself. In the books, there’s a distinct difference in how he feels about Arthur’s death in this scene compared to 1x13 (I’m amazed at how fast his feelings changes, actually). Here, I feel like he focuses more on his own failure to protect Arthur as part of his destiny, but in 1x13, he says that the idea of destiny not being fulfilled was nothing compared to the idea of not being by Arthur’s side. I wonder what happens between this and 1x13 for Merlin’s feelings to change so much.

THIS HAS PROBABLY BEEN STATED MULTIPLE TIMES BEFORE BUT “HE HAS PROVEN WHAT IS TRULY IN HIS HEART“ AS THE CAMERA FOCUSES ON MERLIN. PRODUCERS YOU AIN’T SNEAKY.

Merlin’s smile as he looks down at Arthur sleeping 🥺

Arthur looking at Uther’s hand on his shoulder as if he’s trying to identify a foreign object 🙂 I can never say this enough but fuck you Uther.

“When he who kills a unicorn proves himself to be pure of heart, the unicorn will live again.” this is a stretch but it reminds me of “when Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.”

And that’s done! I have a small meta that ties the theme of Arthur and magic in this episode to the same themes in 1x10, but I might do it on a separate post since this one is already so long 😂

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 1

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

The man ran through the hall, his footsteps echoing throughout his house. He tried to navigate the dark halls, too scared to turn on lights or stop and think. He turned every so often, hoping your figure wasn’t behind him anymore. But it always was. He was panicking, you could tell. He could feel sweat stick to the inside of his white button down and the creases of the dress pants he had yet to take off.

He tried to avoid the small side tables and expensive foreign vases that lined his hall. He had managed to trip over a few tables though, knocking the glass onto his floor, shattering it. Each time he’d whisper a soft curse. There was glass beneath your shoes that probably cost millions of dollars. You found it funny. Even now, running for his life, money was still at the back of his mind.

He ran into the next room he saw, his office. A closed off space with nowhere to run. He turned around, looking at each wall. You could hear a string of curses fall from his mouth before he turned to you.

His small study still had a lamp on, the room dimly lit with the yellow-tinted light.

“Please, what do you want? Money? I can do that. Hell, I can get you your own house! I’ve got connections. I can find people for you! Other people! Please, don’t.”

Now, most people would feel bad about this. Chasing a man through his own home with certain ill intention. But you had seen his life. You’d seen what he does to people. He’d tear apart families, kidnapping people and selling any drug he could find. His hands were soaked in blood, something you could understand. But while you had killed, you picked your victims well. They were the most guilty people you could find. Murderers, kidnappers, kingpins, anyone who managed to escape justice.

Some called you a serial killer, a term that wasn’t exactly incorrect. Some thought you were a vigilante, which also wasn’t wrong. But no matter what, everyone was silently grateful for everything you did.

You always found a new target. From whispers on the street, other criminals, cops who needed a break, sometimes Nick Fury himself would send you a case file or two. You had seen it all, people with souls blacker than night. And this man was no different.

“I don’t want money, Laurence. You’ve killed innocents. You’ve let people die. You’ve heard them beg for mercy and have granted none. Why would I give you a luxury you haven’t given any of your victims?”

The man stuttered. His eyes darted around, frantically trying to find something. Maybe a weapon or just an idea of how to get out of this mess. He suddenly spoke, his voice shaking and cracking. “Because I have information! There’s this man who’s building some huge weapon. Probably wants to take New York out. He could start wars with this thing, yeah? It’ll kill millions in a heartbeat. I know what he’s got! I know what he’s doing, I’ve met the guy! I’ll tell you everything.” He spoke quickly, hoping to finish before you decided to end him. “But not if I’m dead.”

You scoffed. “Tell me, why on Earth would I accept the pleas of a dead man?” You asked. It was a real question, despite your sarcastic tone.

“I’ve got the info! He was chatting with some friends of mine, gave ‘em a whole file about it.” He reached toward the desk and pulled a file off of it, showing it to you. It read “SPECTR2” on the front in small, black script. Your eyes widened and you grabbed the file from him.

He watched as you read over it and confirmed his theory. He was right. Whoever this man was, he had the real thing.

“Alright, fine.” You said, accepting his offer.

“Oh thank god! I knew you’d be reasonable, you’re all about ‘the greater good’, yeah? I’ll tell you whatever you want, lady.” He said, relief washing over his features.

You smiled. “Yeah.” You held the file at your side. “Thing is, I know all about this project already. I don’t need you.”

The panic quickly spread across his face again and he racked his brain for something else. “C’mon, don’t I get something here?” He said, glancing at the walls to find some kind of weapon.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll make your death quick.” You said, taking out one of your swords. He only had a minute to react before he was already dead. You had gotten used to the sight of death, though it wasn’t your favorite thing, there was something satisfying about knowing you had avenged people in some way.

His blood had already stained the carpet he had surrounding his desk and leaked along the cracks of the wooden floor. You groaned at the thought of cleaning your shoes after this and sat down at his desk chair, looking for any other info on the man starting up Project SPECTR again.

***

“So you want us to team up with some psycho killer?” Tony said, leaning back in his usual chair. The meeting room was packed, each member of the team, and some newer additions, crowded together at one table with Steve stationed at the front.

“She has information, Tony. She says lives are in danger.” Tony looked at him ridiculously.

“I’ve got my share of psycho’s on this team and now we’re working with another?” Tony gestured to Bucky and Loki’s side of the table. He got a glare from Nat and he only shrugged his shoulders in response. “Her terms are insane! She wants immunity for every crime she’s done or ever will do. That doesn’t sound insane to you? What if she’s got some master plan and we won’t be able to arrest her for it?”

Nat looked between Steve and Tony. It was obvious they weren’t getting anywhere.

“She’s got info we need. If she wanted to enact some ‘master plan’ she’d just use whatever death machine she’s got, not tell us about it. If she’s serious, we’ll hold up our end. If she’s messing with us, we won’t and we’ll lock her up on site. But if she’s really found plans for what could be the world’s next terrorist attack, we at least need to see her proof.”

Tony looked to Nat, “She’s basically holding the world hostage! Either she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants or everyone dies. We’re really letting that slide?”

This time Steve spoke, though he glared at Tony a bit for his cursing. “I didn’t say I liked it. She’s put us in a tough situation. And Nat’s right. If she’s lying in any way, we’ll lock her up. We’ve got to living lie detectors at this table.” He gestured to Loki on one side of the table and Wanda on the other. Tony only rolled his eyes, silently accepting the argument.

“Are we sure about this? I mean, if she’s telling the truth, then we’ve got some sociopath with a death ray somewhere. But what if she’s lying? She’ll be in the compound. Even if we can lock her up, what if we aren’t able to before she accomplishes whatever task she’s trying to?” Sam said as soon as the room had quieted a bit. A few team members nodded along, considering the possibility.

“We have to take that risk.” Steve said.

***

You strode into the Avengers’ compound, appreciating the space. It was larger than what you were used to. You had jumped from house to house, staying away from law enforcement. If all went well though, you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

There were a few Avengers there to greet you. You had recognized them from the news and you were interested in seeing Natasha here. Among them, you saw Tony Stark. You’d recognize him a mile away. He looked different from his father, though he had the same sarcastic look on his face. You considered punching him now, maybe giving him a serious injury. But, sadly, there really were lives at stake.

Captain America stepped closer to you, holding out his hand. You took it hesitantly, the gloves of your suit meeting his hands. You appreciated the hood of your outfit now with the light reflecting off of windows and into your eyes. It was at least a little bit of protection.

“Specter. Good to meet you. I’m Captain Rogers, just call me Steve.” The other Avengers stepped to his side, making you slightly uncomfortable with how close they were. You couldn’t show it though. You had to be steeled, show no fear. Especially since you were in the lion’s den.

“This is Natasha, Tony, and Thor. We’ve got a meeting room just this way.” He got straight to business and began leading you away. You were careful to let the four Avengers go in front of you, and you were certain at least Natasha had noticed this action. Tony kept glancing back to you, slightly nervous. You could accept that. You felt nervous too, though you had gotten good at concealing your nerves, even before you had ‘died’.

You entered the room which had all of the other Avengers in it as well as five empty chairs. You were seated at the end, directly next to Natasha. Steve settled himself in the end chair right next to you. You looked at the rest of the group who were all doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at you.

“Alright, Specter. Should we call you Specter?” You nodded, letting Steve continue. “Your conditions are questionable to say the least. We need to figure out if you’re actually telling the truth about this weapon first.”

“That’s fine,” you began, “I’d do the same.” You opened up your file, noting how there was a small camera above you, casting a picture of the file onto a board at the front of the room. You smiled at the innovation, curious about how exactly it worked. It had been a while since you’d gotten to appreciate technology, and where better than the home of a Stark.

“This is a real file. I worked on this project years ago. It was meant to help heal people. Stitch them back together, even when they were on the brink of death. But it malfunctioned. I can tell you this is real. Check any references you like, though it’ll be hard to get your hands on. We never made digital copies, this is our original paper.”

Tony squinted at the paper, seeming confused by it.

“And by we, you mean…?” Another man trailed off. You recognized him as Hawkeye, though you hadn’t memorized their actual names.

“Me and Howard Stark. We worked on it back during the war, it was like our pet project.” Tony seemed less confused now.

“That was over half a century ago. How exactly are you standing here?” You sighed at Hawkeye’s question.

“It’s a rather long and annoying story. Let’s keep it simple and say I’ve effectively scared off death.”

“Guys,” Tony said, still looking at the projection of the file. The room turned to him and you were thankful for whatever subject change he had to offer. “I’d love to say she’s full of it, but I know my father’s handwriting. That’s his signature too at the bottom.” As he pointed the small camera zoomed in. You’d have to ask him about the technology’s design later. Assuming this actually went well. You slightly cringed at the thought of speaking to a Stark again, but you’d manage for the sake of a new discovery. “Hey, Friday?”

“Yes Boss?”

You heard a woman’s voice in the room that didn’t belong to anyone present. You quickly figured out it was an AI system Stark had made.

“How well does that match Howard’s handwriting?”

There was a beat of silence before the AI, Friday, spoke again.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The team didn’t seem to know if that was good or bad.

“So there’s really someone set on ending humanity?” A man said across the table. You remembered his moniker being something bird themed, like Hawkeye’s, but it wasn’t coming to you.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place unless absolutely necessary,” You said. The Captain glanced around the table and the group seemed to silently make their decision.

“Alright. We’ll meet your terms, but understand that you must stay here through his whole process. No ‘missions’ of your own.” You thought over his offer. It was slightly tempting. Though you’d miss your little hunt for criminals, it would be nice to have a house for longer than a week.

“Fine. But you can’t bind my powers or spy on me or some bullshit.” The Captain nodded, agreeing.

Suddenly, you were a temporary Avenger.

***

“I don’t like her. She’s too calm. We’re facing a giant death machine and she’s completely stone faced.” You could overhear the conversation from where you stood outside the Avengers common area. Natasha had offered to show you around and you had denied, instead accepting a map and list of locations you’d be interested in.

They were sitting around in a circle of couches, all facing each other. Some of the members seemed distracted. Like one with long hair who was slowly stroking the spine of a book he carried in his hands and another with a striking metal arm. You had to admit, the team was certainly good-looking.

You continued to listen to the conversation, though you had lost a bit of the argument when you retreated into your thoughts.

“What can we do? I’m hardly happy about this, but she’s holding the world hostage, like you said. Millions might die if he didn’t have that info.”

“And what, we’re trusting a serial killer? She’s murdered who know’s how many people and we’re supposed to just sit here and fucking sing Kumbaya?!” Tony said. You could see his point. You wouldn’t trust you either.

“Many of us have killed.” Loki said, offering some perspective and hoping someone else would continue his point. He was still on ‘house-arrest’ and was hardly considered trustworthy. Stark wouldn’t listen no matter how silver his tongue was. But the others seemed to at least consider his words with the exception of Hawkeye who seemed upset that he even had to hear Loki’s voice.

“He’s right Stark. I’d hardly say my hands are clear, but here I am.” Natasha added, taking up Loki’s silent offer to continue his argument.

“I’m not okay with this. She’s absolutely mental. I can’t find anything on her besides media speculation. SHIELD didn’t have anything on her, despite the fact that she’s a well-known criminal and she’s got no history. No names attached, nothing. Just media speculation which is all made up. I checked.”

You took this time to walk out from the hall, the click of your shoes making the group look up. “It’s because you have the spelling wrong.” The entire team looked nervous at being caught. “Don’t feel bad. Of course you’d talk about me, I’m a stranger in your midst.” That seemed to calm some of them down, though they still looked wary of you. Stark was the first to speak.

“We’ve got the spelling wrong?” He asked.

“I’d expect so. You’re spelling my name as ‘Specter’, a ghost, like the media does. Try S-P-E-C-T-R, you’ll find a little more.” You before turning and walking out of the room. While you weren’t excited about opening up your backstory, it’d make this whole ‘trust’ thing a lot quicker. And if you were going to get anywhere, there’d need to be some sort of trust.

***

Project SPECTR - August, 1940

Howard Stark and Dr. Y/n L/n began SPECTR in August of 1940 and have been working on it for three years now.

It’s expected to help Allies win the war, though Dr. L/n believes it could— and should— be used for other purposes. There have been several malfunctions so far and I am unsure how they will continue. Stark has been promoting the idea among generals and strategists, despite the lack of finished product. Dr. L/n suspects it will not be finished by the time Stark suggests, in two weeks. She has told various generals not to expect anything in two weeks, though all generals seem to unfortunately favor Stark’s estimates. They plan to run a test run in one week and fully activate the machine. Both Stark and Dr. L/n hope it will be completely stable for at least ten minutes.

There was a messy signature at the bottom, though Steve identified it quickly as ‘Margaret Carter’.

They read through a few other files, and learned more about the original project. Reportedly, there was a severe malfunction, resulting in Dr. L/n’s death. Peggy had shut down the project immediately after, despite Howard’s begging that it would still work. There had apparently been a rift in their friendship over Dr. L/n’s death.

It also said that the Doctor’s body had disappeared in 1992, only weeks after Howard’s death, which had sparked a few conspiracy theories for those aware of her connection to Stark and Carter, two famous names. She was a leading scientist and was making seriously impressive strides. Stark was disappointed she had died so soon. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would’ve done.

“Is that Specter?” Sam asked about the Doctor working on the project. Though the team seemed unsure of the answer, Steve responded.

“It must be. Why else would she draw our attention to this. She’s got personal experience with whoever is trying to restart the project, though I’m not entirely certain why a machine to heal people will be turned into a new weapon.”

The team tossed theories back and forth and you listened in, smiling when a few of them guessed right. You slipped away soon after though, heading down the hall to the training room.

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

V

I'm tired of this human duet / no civilizing hides / our animal impulses

“We’re going for the offensive. Follow my lead,” Aguni barks, and they move as a single unit, running towards the group.

The enemy advances, and the other friendly teams near the militants flee, their terrorized screams echoing through the arena. It doesn’t help that the masks their opponents wear gave them a hellish, demonic appearance.

It didn’t matter. Last Boss was a stronger demon than they are.

Swinging his katana, he parries the incoming attack, the naginata clashing with his weapon. Niragi and Yamane brace themselves, the impact and Last Boss’ movements affecting the cavalry’s balance. A lump forms in Yamane’s throat as she watches the katana-wielding militant drive his weapon through the enemy’s heart. Their spear topples over, and as soon as he hits the ground, his teammates’ collars go off.

A friendly team struggles with an enemy, at a disadvantage due to the short range the provided knives had in comparison to the polearms. Luck turns in their favor as the militant team approached their attackers from behind, Last Boss lopping the enemy’s head off with a swing of his sword. Though Last Boss’ action saved their lives, the look the tattooed man had on his face made them fear him more than they feared the masked men.

One of them taps his teammates' shoulder, leaning in to say, "Let's stay out of this. Let those freaks handle it."

This isn’t a problem to Last Boss at all, who’s ready to strike the next enemy, but Yamane felt a wave of fury pass through her body.

“Damn pieces of shit who can’t pull their own weight,” she pants as they advance, earning her a chuckle from their spear.

“More for me, then,” said Last Boss, breaking from his monotone, almost sounding happy. Yamane looks up, and sees a small smile on his lips. “Looks like making Last Boss the spear was a great decision after all,” Niragi yells, and he wets his lips with his tongue.

Now Yamane knows why Last Boss thanked her for suggesting that he should be the spear.

He’s going to have so much fun.

“Focus, all of you,” Aguni grunts, chest drenched with sweat as the militants marched forward.

Unfortunately for them, the enemy teams took note of their unit’s competence, and are now converging towards their location.

Last Boss lurches forward and swings his sword, tearing through an enemy spear with a diagonal slash. Two teams approach from opposing directions, and Yamane can feel her sweat pouring now. One of them reaches Last Boss first, thrusting the naginata towards him. It misses his torso by mere inches, slicing his forearm. He parries the next attack, but the other enemy unit catches up and successfully slashes his side.

“No! Last Boss!” Yamane yells, his blood trickling from his wound to her face. Yet, he pays the injury no mind.

Aguni, Niragi and Yamane maneuvers so Last Boss can parry both attacks, but it still leaves the enemy plenty of opportunities to strike. It doesn’t help that a third unit is fast approaching as well. Their spear is panting now, and exhaustion is starting to settle in among the horses too.

“This is bad,” Yamane blurts, one arm wrapped around Last Boss’ leg, while another was linked with Aguni’s hand to support Last Boss’ foot. She turns to look at the other friendly team, who just watched.

“They won’t even help!”

“We don’t need their help!” Niragi berates her.

The situation is desperate. Yamane looks down to the dagger at her thigh, and she thinks back to the number of weapons on the table. There was enough for all twenty players to take one. Surely whoever devised the game wouldn’t have provided them if the players couldn’t use them at their disposal.

Could it be that all this time, the horses are allowed to fight too?

“Wait a second. Niragi, there wasn’t anything in the rules forbidding horses to use weapons, right?”

Niragi realizes it too and gives Yamane a cheeky smirk. “No, there wasn’t. Chief, we’ll be letting go of Last Boss’ foot,” Niragi yells, and Aguni grunts as the balance shifts.

“Just do what you need to do to win!” Aguni booms, and Niragi takes out the knife he got from the table, while Yamane reaches for her dagger. One of their arms is still holding Last Boss’ legs, but now, they’re free to assist him by going for the other horses.

Niragi had no problem slashing an enemy horse’s throat, which put their unit off balance. This created an opening, and Last Boss proceeded to finish that team’s spear off. Screwing her eyes shut, Yamane lets out a scream as she slashes wildly at the unit near her side, warm blood spraying her.

“Wild little Yamaneko,” Last Boss snickers, grinning at her as she swung blindly.

In the chaos, the unit topples over, and their spear falls backward, allowing the tattooed militant to drive his sword through his chest.

Panting, Yamane sees the fallen enemies, and relief floods her system, which manifests as laughter that she couldn’t hold back. The last remaining unit approaches, and Last Boss finishes them off with ease.

Right after the defeated unit’s collars went off, the robotic voice chimes in from their phones.

“Game clear! Congratulations!”

The collars around the surviving players release, and Aguni lowers Last Boss down. Bloody and sweaty, Yamane tucks her dagger away, and rests her hands on her knees, laughing and relieved to be alive. She turns to see the other surviving unit, the one that decided to stand idly by as they struggled, and scowls. Anger replaces her relief.

Feet taking her to the cowards before she could stop herself, she backhands one of them and proceeds to swing a fist to another. Aguni remains planted to his spot, watching the brawl unfold, while Niragi and Last Boss follow her, an amused look on their faces.

“Looks like Yamane finally lost it,” Niragi chuckles, grinning as he watched Yamane kick one of the other players.

“About time,” Last Boss adds.

Two of the strangers tried to restrain the wildcat, who kicked, cursed, and spat at them. “You fucking cowards! You assholes do know that if our group didn’t survive that assault, you’d have to face the enemy yourself too, right?! You weak, useless sacks of shit!”

Last Boss pushes one of them off, while Niragi points his gun at the other, which he retrieved on the way to the fight. They let Yamane go, who attempts to brawl with one of them again, but Last Boss beats her to the punch. He grabs the coward by the hair, and slices through his carotid artery, and his blood spills on the grass, killing him in seconds. The other players present scramble away, not wanting to get involved. Niragi shoots one of them in the leg, the others leaving him behind as they run away in terror.

Feet planted on the grass, Yamane freezes in her spot, stunned. She wanted to beat the hell out of those people, but not kill them, nothing as extreme as that. Last Boss turns to her, still panting, smiling with his mouth open, a predatory glint in his eye as he approaches her. The more she looked, the more he looked like a tiger, his tattoos serving as his stripes.

“That’s enough. Let’s go,” Aguni says as he passes by them, walking to the exit without looking back. Shrugging, Niragi totes his rifle over his shoulder again, while Last Boss grabs Yamane’s good arm. His hands are cold, fingers leaving indentations on the woman’s flesh.

The wildcat shrinks back into a dormouse as the tiger dragged her with them.

Once in the car, she sat a little closer to the window and avoided looking at him. Niragi turns on the engine and they speed away from the venue.

“KIlling those morons was unnecessary, you know,” Yamane finally speaks up, avoiding looking at the tattooed man.

“Don’t act like you haven’t killed anyone, Yamane,” Niragi cuts in, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s us or them. Doesn’t mean I enjoyed it. I don’t get off on inflicting unnecessary harm on anyone.”

From the rearview mirror, she sees Aguni giving her a pondering, scrutinizing look. From the corner of her eyes, on the other hand, Last Boss is leaning towards her, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Your kills are sloppy,” Last Boss tells her, voice monotonous.

That finally made Yamane turn to him, eyebrows furrowed. “I- what does that have to do with anything?”

“If you care so much, you’ll kill them swiftly instead of letting them bleed all over you, Yamaneko,” he droned, emphasizing the moniker. Jaw dropping in horror, Yamane looks at the blood on her body, and a wave of nausea washes through her.

“Heh, that’s right. You’re a killer too, and a crazed one at that. You’ve shown that twice now. Stop acting all moral, mousy,” Niragi continues, tongue drawing out of his lips languidly.

To Yamane’s horror, the two were right. It happened with the middle-aged man in the Elimination game, and it happened again tonight. Yamane’s way of killing them prolonged their suffering. The guilt ate at her, and made her sink.

Darker parts of herself are emerging, the ones that remind her of mother’s heavy hands and her father’s sharp tongue, and she feels the bile rising in her throat. Chest constricting, Yamane couldn’t breathe, so she rolls down the window and leans over, the wind tousling her hair.

Looking through the rearview mirror, Niragi notices the distance between Yamane and his companion, the look of despair in Yamane’s face, and he grins. “Oh c’mon Yamane, no need to give Last Boss that kind of avoidant treatment. Just earlier you were crying his name when he got nicked.”

“I’m not trying to avoid- I did not!” Yamane exclaims, defensive all of a sudden.

“No! Last Boss!” Niragi imitates her in a falsetto, and cackles. “You sound like a high school girl watching her boyfriend get into a brawl!”

Just a few days ago, Niragi was bending her over every surface he can find, and now he’s teasing her for showing the slightest bit of concern towards the tattooed man. At least Yamane knows that he no longer acts entitled to her anymore.

“Well, if he died, we’ll all die. Of course I’d be worried,” Yamane mumbles, thankful that the car is dark, or they would’ve seen her flushed face.

A warm puff of breath on her cheek makes her head turn abruptly and she sees Last Boss’ face, merely inches from hers, making her scoot backward and brace herself against the open window in surprise. He’s watching her curiously, like a cat enthralled with a new toy. Behind the tattoos and his odd behavior is a handsome face; sharp cheekbones, a strong nose with a high bridge, piercing eyes, and delicate lips, which Yamane can clearly see even in the dim light.

At the pit of her belly, Yamane can feel the fire spread, and it pools between her legs. She shouldn’t be feeling that way for someone who just killed a man without remorse in front of her, but her body betrayed the rational parts of her brain, which had been steadily crumbling since her arrival in the borderlands.

“You- you really like watching me, don’t you?” she whispers.

It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, and Yamane didn’t know how to feel when he nodded.

When they arrived at the Beach, she had planned to visit Doctor Sunohara to check on her shoulder and ask for a refill for her painkillers. Last Boss is going the opposite direction, the wound on his side still bleeding

“Uh, Last Boss, you should come with me to the clinic to get that wound checked.”

He tilts his head, and Niragi rolls his eyes and smirks. “Still beating around the bush like a schoolgirl, huh? Hopeless, both of you,” he scoffs, then strolls away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yamane yells after him, but he keeps walking.

As the strange exchange unfolded between the three, Aguni is still watching, deep in thought. “Yes, Yamane’s right. Get that wound fixed. It may cost us the next game.”

As the militants’ chief, his word carries weight, and Last Boss complies, shuffling towards the direction of the clinic. More than ready to replenish her painkiller supply, Yamane goes after him, but Aguni places a hand on her good shoulder.

“Come with me for a moment,” the chief tells her, and lets go of the younger militant’s shoulder promptly. Cold sweat washing over her and unsure of what will happen next, Yamane nods.

Leading her to an unoccupied room, the chief sits down on the sofa, and the younger militant sits right across him. Aguni leans forward, eyes narrowing. “Tell me about the day you met Niragi and Last Boss,” he asks her.

“Huh? Well, I’m sure they’ve already told you what there is to know, chief,” Yamane replies, fiddling with her thumbs to alleviate her unease. “We played a game called Elimination and only the three of us survived.”

Aguni exhales softly, leaning back on the sofa. “Niragi and Last Boss are prominent members of the Beach, and you’ve seen firsthand how capable our sect is. I need to see what they saw in you. You’ve caught their attention that night.”

“I’m… I’m not even sure how I caught their attention, chief. Maybe Niragi just wanted a new fuck toy to use and discard, and Last Boss’ intentions are a mystery to me,” Yamane groans, rubbing her face. “But letting me keep my knives and making me one of you? I wasn’t even the strongest player out there. I just went crazy when one of the boys killed this kid that was tagging along with me, and called us the weak link in our team.”

At Yamane’s confession, Aguni straightens. “I see. That’s all. Go.”

Letting go of a breath that she didn’t know that she was holding, Yamane bows, and turns to leave.

“And Yamane?” Aguni calls out, turning to the young militant. “While I expect honesty, you reveal too much of yourself. It has a way of coming back to bite you in the ass. Don’t show weakness.”

A thoughtful look on her face, Yamane nods. “I’ll keep it in mind, chief.”

As Yamane closed the door, Aguni grimaced. From the bathroom, Hatter emerges, listening to the exchange the entire time. He sits in front of his friend, and Aguni drops his facade.

Meanwhile, Yamane begins her trek to the clinic, and people avoid her as she walks through the halls, drenched in blood and looking positively feral. Sunohara and another medic are tending to Last Boss’ wound, the others steering clear, when Yamane enters the clinic. The blood on her clothes made Sunohara gasp, who stopped dabbing the antiseptic on the tattooed man’s side.

“Uh, don’t worry about me. This isn’t my blood,” Yamane mutters, making a few onlookers inch away from her. She grimaces at her choice of words. “I’m just here to get my shoulder checked and get more painkillers.”

Sunohara nods, leaving the task of wrapping a bandage around Last Boss’ torso to the other medic. While waiting for Sunohara to finish washing her hands in the sink, Yamane sits next to her fellow militant.

“Hey. Are you doing something tonight?” she asks him, not making any eye contact.

“Executive meeting,” he drones. Yamane nods and turns away. “Nothing after that.”

“Can we meet at the main balcony after? I’ll just get cleaned up while you attend the meeting.”

The tattooed militant turns to her, expression inscrutable, and his eyes flick down for a brief moment. He nods.

After getting her prescription refilled, Yamane takes the elevator to the floor where she had taken a room. The bathroom has a tub and she turned the water on for it to fill. After stripping herself, she runs water through her stained clothes in the sink, plugs it, and pours detergent to soak. She places her wrist tag at the counter, the number 32 on it.

Leaning over the basin, Yamane looks at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her buns had come loose from all the moving they did in the game. The bruising on her shoulder is nearly invisible now, but she’s still careful with it, and it still hurts on occasion. Sunohara advised her to wear the brace for a few weeks more. Water continues to fill the tub, while Yamane quickly rinses the blood off her body in the shower before she enjoys her soak. Or at least try to, anyway.

Twenty minutes later, Yamane is still soaking in the tub, fingers wrinkled, and the bathwater has gone cold. Last Boss’ comment about how sloppy her kills are lingered in her mind.

Perhaps she’ll ask him to teach her how to kill a little cleaner; ask him to teach her that cut he does where the victim bleeds to death in a matter of seconds.

“Yes,” Yamane thought. “Maybe it will ease some of the guilt.”

With her clothes still in the sink, instead of her usual ensemble, Yamane puts on a black off-shoulder shirt, which she ties at a knot at her midriff, her shoulder brace, and black, high-waisted denim shorts with harnesses for her daggers. Hair still wet and clinging to her neck and upper back, Yamane steps out of her occupied room, not bothering to put any makeup on.

On the way to the balcony, she runs into Saiko in the elevator, who raises an eyebrow at her.

“Huh. You’re actually pretty cute if you didn’t wear all that dark makeup.”

“Piss off, Saiko. I’m looking for Last Boss. Is he still at the meeting?”

At Yamane’s question, Saiko looks at her like she’s gone mad. Maybe she has. “Why would you purposely seek out that freak? He gives me the creeps.”

“Not your business. Do you know where he is or not?”

“Executive meeting’s probably done by now.” Saiko huffs, checking her nails. The shorter woman nods, and Saiko gets off on her floor.

Heart pounding, Yamane psychs herself up. She hasn’t been this nervous since confessing to her middle school crush, and the comparison makes her cringe. “You’re just asking him a favor,” Yamane tells herself. “You’re going to meet him, ask how to kill people swiftly, and leave.”

The elevator door slides open, and Yamane steps out, and she sees him waiting there, back against the wall and leaning on his katana.

“Hey. Sorry to keep you waiting,” Yamane greets, taking a few tentative steps towards him. “May I ask you a favor?”

Last Boss doesn’t say anything, but he turns to look at her and gives her a small nod.

“Teach me how to kill fast and without inflicting too much pain.”

The tattooed militant straightens, taking a step towards her. Several steps. He traps Yamane against the wall. The scent of sweat and blood is still heavy on him, and the dormouse gulps, a shaky exhale escaping her throat. Cold fingers trail on her neck and Yamane flinches, goosebumps rippling through her skin and her nipples hardening under her shirt. The water dripping from her hair and the cold night air made it worse. Last Boss presses his finger on the spot harder and feels Yamane’s rapid pulse.

“Bleeding out is a painless way to die. This is where the carotid artery is. Cutting it would result in death in fifteen to thirty seconds,” said Last Boss, his voice fluctuating from his usual monotone. “The jugular is another option, but it’ll take a little longer due to the less pressure in the veins.”

Yamane’s eyes are glistening as the man before her holds her chin and tilts her head upward. “Do it with the victim facing down. If their head is tilted upward like this, their trachea gets in the way and it’ll be harder to cut the artery.”

This is the first time Yamane ever heard him say anything more than a sentence, clearly knowledgeable on the topic. Clearing her throat, Yamane asks him a question. “Just what were you before you came here?”

Ever so slightly, his grip on her chin tightens. “I have no past.”

“H- I- Where did you learn that, then?” Yamane asks him, stuttering and flustered.

“The internet.”

A cold hand gripped her good shoulder, thumb pressing against her deltoid, knuckles almost brushing against her breast. “There are other parts of the body you can strike. Severing the cephalic vein is another way to get the person to bleed out. Do you want to learn more?”

Yamane couldn’t answer, only nodding, and he kneels in front of her, his cold fingers pressing her inner thighs as he pointed out where the femoral artery is, his warm breath kissing her stomach.

Fear and desire muddles together into a nebulous fog in her mind.

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part III

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baretheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,785

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Another tournament was organized. Your father insisted on participate, luckily Lord Stark convinced him otherwise. Who would dare challenge the King of the Seven Kingdoms?

You were sitting exactly like the first occasion but Cersei was absent. She never really enjoy those kind of events, not that they were your favorite either. This time was The Mountain against one of your best friends, Ser Loras of House Tyrell. A very charming man.

“That is a very pretty dress, Myrcella.” You told your little sister. Your gaze directed to the northern girl.

“You like it?” She grinned contemplating at her golden and costly gown. Yours was very similar.

“I do, my lioness.”

Ser Loras approached the redhead giving her a red rose. She gladly accepted and you remember she told you how much she loved knights. He was way more kind than Joffrey. But you knew the Tyrell boy has an affair with uncle Renly, actually, you were the only person who knew their secret. Although here in the capital people’s secrets are never safe.

After The Hound defended the Knight of the Flowers, Ser Gregor left furious. All the applauses were towards him. Later that day you were on your chambers, sparring on your own.

“Y/N, how many times have I told you I don’t like you to be playing with a sword.” The blonde woman nagged.

“Not enough.” You turned to her.

“It’s dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You took a deep breath.

“Father says it’s for my own good.”

“You have a lot of him in you.”

“Not the eyes. Mine are just like yours.” You scoffed.

“You have Robert’s stubbornness.” She pointed.

“That bothers you? Where is uncle Tyrion? Have you got a word from him?”

“He is a prisoner of Lady Stark.” How can she say it so casual?

“What?! Why??”

“Conspiracy. They assume he hired someone to murder their little son.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. He is not known for being a child killer. What will happen now?”

“Jaime is trying to get him back. We expect the Starks to return him safe and sound to the capital. Practice your needlework. That is more appropriate for a princess to do.” She declared and walked out. You rolled your eyes, resuming your moves.

“Father, you wanted to see me?” He raised his cup and order you to sit on the small table.

“I’m getting old. You, my daughter, are getting better on your fencing. I am proud to see what you are becoming, a hell of a woman! Not a girl anymore. Never let a man commands you. You were born a leader, not a follower. Always remember that.” He gulped, offering you some wine. You like the taste but not the feeling if you drink too much.

“I have your strength, courage and of course, your charisma.” You admitted.

“Indeed. What about you marry Edd’s son? Robb is his name if I recall correctly. I wanted to join our houses. Baratheon and Stark, finally together. Without a fucking Targaryen getting in the way. But Y/N, I want you to live a happy life. Not a loveless marriage like the one your mother and I have. When you are to be wed, choose your partner wisely and never let anyone take them away from you.” You knew when your father was being serious, sorrow written all over his face.

“I can’t start a war if that happens. Thank you, father. I will listen to you. Joffrey and Sansa will rule someday, I hope it’s in a very long time, though. I’m not able to fully understand what you lost when Lady Lyanna was stolen from you. I can’t imagine the pain and frustration you felt. I am sorry.” You looked at him with a sympathetic smile.

“Not more than I am. The only good thing about the outcome was you and your siblings. Even Joffrey. You are way better than him, in every aspect. Cersei always treated you less. But you are my princess.” The bearded man said with nothing but the truth.

“I don’t know what to do. What is expected of me.” You lower your head.

“Don’t worry, child. One of the seven heavens has a plan for you. You are young, beautiful and smart. You are the princess of Westeros. The world shall be as you desire. Don’t worry about that now.” You stood up and hugged him tightly. In that moment you felt safe from any danger, safe even from your mother.

“Lord Varys. What news?” You were walking at a slow pace outside the Throne Room. “You know I only want to help my father make the right choices.” Lord Bealish is not the only one that whispers in your ear, the Eunuch trusts you. Almost everyone does. You’ve never used the intel they tell you to do something wrong. You could never.

“Yes I know, my friend. Daenerys Targaryen.” He sighed. “She is pregnant with Khal Drogo’s child. She’s a threat along with Viserys. I’m certain it’s not a rumor. The King wants her dead, he insists.”

“Thank you for sharing this information with me, my lord.” He bowed his head, turning to the opposite direction.

“How are things in Highgarden?” You asked your old friend.

“Quiet. My grandmother and sister send their regards. They miss you.” The curled man said.

“I’ll go visit soon.”

“Perhaps you could bring your new friend, she’s quite a beauty.” When you opened your mouth to answer a knock from the door caught your attention

“My Princess. Lady Arya is nowhere to be found.”

“I want every single one of my guards searching out for her. When you locate her take her immediately to Lord Eddard. Please.” The young man nodded.

After a few hours, the little wolf appeared. “Oh, Arya! You are okay. Where have you been?”

“I got lost. Thanks for worrying. I’m fearful... for my father.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve heard they plan to kill him.” She almost whispered.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. The King will protect him, right?” She asked with preoccupation in her voice.

“Of course, Arya.” She hugged you. The last Hand, Jon Arryn, he died because the fever took him, or did someone plan it? Now the Lord of Winterfell was in danger? A thousand scenarios began to run in your head.

You just received the jewel you asked to be made to the finest hand-crafter in King’s Landing, a gorgeous silver ring with House Stark sigil. The wolf in the middle was discreet yet visible. A perfect gift for a perfect lady. You were excited to deliver it so you head to find her. Someone got earlier. You didn’t speak right away.

“Would you forgive me, for my rudeness?” At least he was apologizing.

“There is nothing to forgive.” She was stuttering.

“One day we’ll be married. I’ll never disrespect you again. I’ll never be cruel to you again. Do you understand me?” You are my lady now. From this day until my last day.” Your heart ached at the thought of it. But it’s something you already knew. Seeing them together was different.

“My Princess.” You were about to turn around when Septa Mordane greeted you.

“I... I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know you were with Lady Sansa.” Joffrey eyed you with his usual sulky expression.

“Leave us alone, sister.” He hissed.

“My lady.” You just bowed your head completely embarrassed.

You called for the tall girl to be escorted to your chambers. “I intended to give you this yesterday. I’m sorry for running into you when you were occupied.”

“It’s alright. It’s beautiful!” She had a wide smile as you put the ring on her index finger.

“I see Joffrey gave you a necklace.” You noticed the golden piece. She took it and nodded.

“Yes. It’s like the one you wear.”

“My mother and Myrcella have one identical. It suits you.”

“That’s what he said. I will be his queen someday.” She excited exclaimed.

“Yes, you will.” Your heart was aching again.

“The ring is lovely. Thank you, princess.” The Northerner admired it happily.

“Now you have something to remember the North. I had it made especially for you. You are very welcome.” You smiled warmly at her.

“Y/N, you’ll be joining the hunt.” Your father stated.

“With pleasure.” You’ve always loved to go hunting, it was not a boring activity for you at all. You gather your weapons. Your skills were good, though every time you go to the wild you learn something new.

You were deep in the woods, a bow in your hand. Your father was carrying a spear. Ser Barristan and uncle Renly joined too.

“Father, don’t kill the Targaryen girl. I understand why you need to do it. Don’t see it as an act of honor but of mercy. She’s innocent. They are far away from King’s Landing. You are not a butcher. Don’t send anyone to hunt her down. More so if she’s carrying a baby inside her.”

“You and Ned so honorable. Maybe you are right. Little girls don’t frighten me.” You were relieved when you heard him say that. There is hope for them. “You weren’t a man till you fucked one girl of each of the Seven Kingdoms and the Riverlands. We used to call it “making the eight.” He giggled.

“Those were some lucky girls.” The youngest Baratheon brother said without a bit of excitement.

“Y/N! I suppose it counts for the boys too.” You smirked and nudged your uncle. “Those were the days.” The smile fell from his lips. Now he was angry.

“What days exactly? The ones were half of Westeros fight the other half and millions died. Or before that, when the Mad King slaughtered women and babies cause the voices in his head told him they deserved it. Or way before that, when dragons burnt whole cities to the ground.” He spat.

“Easy, boy. You might be my brother but you’re speaking to the king.” The black-haired man warned.

“More wine, your grace?” Lancel nervously offered.

“Father, you should slow down with the booze, it can make you feel dizzy and to hunt you need to stay focus.” You declared.

“Oh my dear daughter, I’d done this a million times. Wine is my preferred ally.” He said.

It all happened so fast, Robert missed his thrust and was seriously injured by a boar, he was very drunk to be concentrated. When you, Ser Barristan and Renly tried to help it was too late. You arrived from the Kingswood with him almost unconscious. All the way back you were quivering. Fearing for your father’s life.

[virgil-is-a-bitch]

So I meant to get this out earlier than I did. However its here now!

The idea started from an ask @random-fander sent (You're amazing btw, thank you so much)

Warnings: Unsympathetic Virgil, claustrophobia, panic attacks, panic attacks described in detail, self hate, self hate talk, Virgil being a dick, mind manipulation, Remus being Remus (including-body gore, gore, food metion, burns, gross talk, being trapped, spiders, spider horror, caps) , ducking out being talked about, ducking out being a form of sh, slfhrm

This gets dark so be careful

This is split into four parts. All of the parts flow together in the order they are in, but if you need to skip a part, it should still make sense. Stay safe y'all

Anxiety vs The Brain - Logan pov

Anxiety vs The Ego- Romans pov

Anxiety vs The Rejected- Remus and a little bit of Thomas pov

Anxiety vs The Snake- Janus and Virgil pov

Each part is split up with ~~~~~~

Enjoy~

[Also I'm on mobile tumblr, and it won't let me put a read more. My apologies]

The Fight of Anxiety

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

~Anxiety vs The Brain~

Logan was mildly upset. No, correction. He was... frustrated. Another pointless argument. More time wasted when something actually productive could have happened. Overwhelming heat swirled pushed against his ribs as he briskly walked towards his room. He was in desperate need of a break from the others. He needed to be somewhere spacious. His room, where he could let his feelings, the burning heat, out.

"Hey Teach?" He knew that voice, he didn't want to deal with the side who owned that voice at the moment. But he did the polite thing and turned around to face Virgil.

"Is there anything I can assist you with?" He asked, his voice flat like that a cool glass filled with ice water. Something he had practiced, it was easier to deal with the temperatures in his chest with the others being unaware that it even existed. So he gave no signs that things were off, if just to keep things running smoothly.

The sound of the others shoes squeaking against the floor, raised the temperature a few degrees inside Logan, as Virgil made he's way over to him. "Lets just walk for a bit, okay Lo?"

Logans fingers were about to burst from the heat that laid just below his skin. He's nickname left a ugly taste, like burnt coffee beans, in his mouth when it came from this side. However he just gave a short nod and continued walking down the hall, now with Virgil along side of him.

They walked in an uncomfortable silence for a while, the only sound was the squeaking of those shoes and light breathing. Logan refused to look at the other. That was until they got to Logans door. A sigh of relief escaped him as they both stopped, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.

Now all that was between him and being able to cool down: was simple door.

"I'm afraid this is my stop." He stated to Virgil, a small forced smile on his face.

When he didn't get a response, not even a shrug, Logan turned and faced his door. The deep blue paint was starting to chip in places, he would need to remember to borrow some paint from Roman later. The tips of Logans fingers cooled against the smooth metal of the doorknob as he grasped it. He turned the handle and opened it, and a sour taste nipped at his mouth. Hadn't he left his lamp on? Why was it so dark?

A pair of hands where on his back suddenly, causing him to flinch hard. But before he could turn around and inquire what the hell was going on, he was shoved past the door frame and into the dark, into something that felt like a boxes. He turned around in time to see Virgil.

His hair a mess, his eyes a deep cold purple (as cold when you forget a coat durning a winter storm) but worse of all was his smirk. The smirk that said Virgil knew exactly what he was doing. And he didn't regret it at all. And then Logan couldn't see him at all, as the door slammed shut.

The door made a harsh noise when shut, like a piano stopped midsong, never to finish the piece, leaving an empty feeling. Logans breathing speed up as his hands searched for a doorknob. But there was nothing on this side of the door. He put his arms to the side, just to find out he barely had a couple inches on either side. His breathing hitched, the heat swirled faster, making his chest feel like it was break open. An empty feeling clouded his head as he fall back against a tower of boxes. The tower swayed, threatening to fall.

Heat spilled from his eyes painfully, as he tried to feel for anyway out. Empty whimpers crawled out of his mouth, but were to quite for anyone to hear. The heat swirled with the empty from his head, both of them feeling like to much. It was to much as the sound of squeaking shoes started up and started going away from him.

"No- Virgil!" He cried as loud as he could, but the heat & emptiness muffled his words, "Please- I, please... Can't..." His voice burned from the bottom of his lungs to the roof of his mouth. There was so much pain, so much heat, so much of everything. But there wasn't enough space. No room to breath, no room to move. No room.

No room

No room

Not enough room to breath

Not enough room to move

Not enough room

No way for Logan to let go of anything, so it stayed in him. Trapped in him. The heat was trapped, and same with the emptiness. Suck in him. Just wanting out, where he could breath.

But he was stuck in his own hell, behind a simple door.

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

~Anxiety vs The Ego~

Roman hummed softly, humming always helped seemed to help soften other noises. And oh boy, he had a killer headache at the moment. It felt like all of the Disney songs had played at once at the loudest volume, and as much as he loved Disney, it was overwhelming.

However it hadn't been all of the Disney songs at once, it had been everyone arguing about Thomas hopes and dreams! Well, perhaps it hadn't only been about that... But that was the part that had made Romans head pound like a drum!

He tapped his fingers to the beat of the song he hummed softly as he headed towards Logans room. After the debate the normally calm logically side looked distressed, and if any side knew what distressed looked liked it would be Roman!

So, like the hero he likes to think he was, Roman decided to ignore the beat in his head and go check in on the distressed side who needed his help!

Although, "How can you think that 'you' could help anyone?" Virgil asked at breakfast interrupting Romans explanation of Thomas' dream from the night before. "Really Roman, how could you be a hero?" the memory pounded in his head, his humming got louder.

Maybe he could check on Logan as a friend, he didn't always need to be a hero anyways. Sometimes friends are needed, not hero's. Roman gave a nod at the idea, and continue walking, unaware that he had even stopped.

"Really Roman, how can you be our friend if it always has to be about you?" Virgil's voice seemed to whisper in his ear, repeating something he had said earlier. Romans breath hitched, his humming coming to a harsh stop.

"You act like you're better than us, look in a mirror once in a while Princy." Roman squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. He really didn't think he was better than any of them. Virgil must have been upset, which is fair he had to deal with Roman after all.

Roman cover his face with his hands, hiding large tears rolling down his face. His back against the hall wall. His head pounding with the crude words of the anxious sides.

"Oh my fucking God Roman. Can't you do anything right?"

"It's not surprising that Thomas didn't get the part. You're his creativity after all."

"I'm not even surprised that you failed. Again."

Roman was on the floor now curled up against the wall, his body was shaking with heavy loud sobs. It was to loud, his voice was to loud.

"Wow." Romans head shot up, this time the voice wasn't just in his head, it was right in front of him. Virgil looked disgusted, as if looking at something worse then trash... And maybe he was. "Do you have to make yourself everyone else's problem? No one wants to see you like this. I thought Princes where strong. I guess not."

His words replayed in Romans head, like a skipping CD raising in volume every repeat. "W-What?" Roman asked, his voice broken and far to quiet.

But Virgil heard him just fine. "I know you heard me just fine Princey. Why do you lie like he does? Maybe you should join them. I wouldn't be surprised if you do. You would betray us, wouldn't you??" Virgil yelled, small tears running down his checks smearing his makeup.

Roman blinked, when did he start crying. Oh god he made Virgil cry. Oh god oh god. No, no he didn't mean to. He was sorry- oh god how horrid was he to make Verge cry. He stood up as fast as he could on shaky legs. "Oh god, Virgil I'm sorry-"

Virgil scoffed, "You are just like them, aren't you?" He wiped his eyes and shook his head. "I thought I could trust you.." He whispered before putting his hood on and walking away from Roman.

Roman hurt, his head hurt, his eyes hurt. The ego himself hurt.

He was broken. He couldn't breath. He sunk out of the hall, and into his room. The mirrors that once had been whole, were now shattered. Thomas's ego threw himself onto his bed. Bruised and broken, vowing not to come out unless absolutely necessary. Completing forgetting about looking for Thomas' logical side.

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

~Anxiety vs The Rejected~

Remus swung a baseball bat as hard as he could into basically anything in his room. His own laughter bouncing off the walls. He was upsettie spaghetti, Thommie didn't like his ideas as much as Romans. Not that Romans weren't good, but they didn't have Remus flair!

Remus wanted to be noticed not rejected! He really wanted even just one of his ideas to be at least considered- But if they wouldn't listen, he could make him self heard!

Remus let out a blood curdling scream, the baseball bat changing to a sword as he stabbed a wall and leaving it there. He let out a laugh before letting out a sob. But normal tears where Roman thing! So boring! So he cried battery acid, it burned, but at least it was interesting!

He tried to rub it away, but it only made it worse and more painful the more he rubbed. He let out a frustrated scream as it burned, snapping his fingers and the acid was gone, no marks on his skin.

"Haha Remus, maybe acid wasn't the best idea! Maybe milk! Ooooo chunky milk tears!" He started to cry again but with chucky milk, it smelled horrid, perfect!

Thomas cringed at the idea of chunky milk tears, but pushed the thought back. He hugged a pillow to his chest, his eyes where glued to the TV. He didn't understand why he felt so shitty today. Sure he and his side got into a argument, but he normally didn't feel this bad afterwards.

Remus snicker and wiped away the tears, grabbing a stuffie (a Pumbaa stuffie from lion king, Janus had given it to him, and Remus had given him Timon) hugging it close to his chest. "Pumbaa? Imagine if you had real organs and not fluff? Well not you. JayJay spent a long time working on you, so maybe a different stuffie, cool idea right?" Remus bit his lip in thought. His mind spiraling down a rabbit hole- pfht- of that idea.

He set Pumbaa down on his one nightstand, and grabbed a notebook and a simple blue pen and started scribbling down notes against the wall. Randomly yelling out what he was writing, or letting out a laugh. His mood going up now that he could write out an idea. That he could do it with out being told what he was doing was bad. It felt amazing.

There was a knock on his door, and Remus' face split into a grin. "Come right on in hoe bag!" The door opened and Remus spun around notebook held out in front of him, excitement flooding him. "Look at this Janu- hold on, your not Double Dee!"

Virgil stood in his doorway, eyes glancing around the room, the disgust evident on his face. "I see you still don't know how to clean."

Remus quickly closed his notebook and held it to his chest. "Nope! Cleaning is for losers who don't like the adventure of trying to find shit!" Remus said, feeling that he had been a bit to loud. And the worry was proven right when Virgil flinched at his voice and looked away.

Remus cleared his throat and made sure his voice was at a more 'inside' volume. "So, um," he cleared his throat, holding the notebook tighter. "Whatca doing here raccoon bitch?"

Virgil eyes jumped up to Remus and down to his notebook, "Isn't that your idea notebook or some shit?" Virgil asked, ignoring his question.

Not very sneakily, Remus thought, but had something else he was more forced on. "Its none of your business, maybe it's porn!" He giggled, knowing it wasn't the best lie, but it really could be porn, if he knew himself.

"You know Thomas doesn't like your ideas, right?" Virgil asked with a sneer. His voice heavy and gross. But not in a gross way that Remus liked, this gross felt heavy and sticky. It felt like his words clinged to his very skin. And no matter how hard he rubbed at his skin the feeling wouldn't leave.

Remus did not like sticky.

"Well you know Thomas doesn't like being anxious right??" Remus snapped back, a moment or two late. Making it noticeable that he was affected by his words.

Virgil smirked, having noticed that his words had the affect he wanted. "Well at least I have a purpose, I keep him safe. Not tear him down."

Remus huffed, his hands starting to rip at the edge of the notebook. "What do you want Anxiety?" He asked, his voice dark. It washed over his room marking the temperature drop a degree or two.

Virgil finally walked out of the doorway and into the others room. Stepping over and around anything on his floor. "I want you to stop existing." He said bluntly. Stopping once he was an arm length away from Remus.

Remus snorted and then started full on laughing. Even going to the extent to slap his knee, once he caught his breath and straightened (ha) he looked at Virgil, raising one of his eyebrows. However Virgil didn't look as amused. "What? I'm a part of Thomas. He needs me to be whole! I can't just stop, ya know, being. Like, I'm not you! I'm not gonna be a dramatic duck and duck out- oh, oh shit." Remus' eyes went wide, one even popped out of his socket which he quickly pushed it back in. "That's not what you meant, right Verge?"

Virgil smiled sickly, "I'm glad you figured it out so quickly. I was worried I would have to explain it for your tiny dumb brain." He took half a step closer, and Remus tensed up.

Remus dropped his notebook. And summoned his morning star, "I think its time for you to leave. You're not welcome here anymore." His voice dropped to gravely tone. His room walls shook violently, as stuff fell off. Pumbaa took a dive off the table to the floor.

Virgil's face pinched as he seemed to think it over. He gave a bitter sweet fake smile. "I don't think I will Remus." And with that he jumped at Remus.

Remus went to swing the moment Virgil moved but something held back his morning star, he glanced over his shoulder to see webs over it, connecting it to the wall. Oh fuck- and then he was knocked into the wall. He immediately started to struggle and screaming.

Webs were sticky, webs could caught you and keep you there.

And Remus was fucking shit his pants scared.

Virgil growled and covered his mouth, a sticky substance climbing from his sleeve and covering his mouth.

"No! Fuck no!" Remus tried to screamed, some of it going into his mouth. He gagged and threw his head back and forth.

The webs covered his arms and legs, pinning him to the wall. Virgil stepped back, panting lightly while smiling at his handy work. He wiped his brow before bending down and picking up Remus notebook and opened it.

Remus struggled harder, Virgil wasn't suppose to look though it, fuck! The stickyness of the webs made him so uncomfortable, he wanted to rub his skin with an metal sponge until it was all gone. He gagged at the feeling of it over his mouth, and tried to scream, but barely any noise got through the thick web covering his mouth.

Virgil tutted as he looked through the note book. "All of these are horrid- and I thought Romans ideas were shit!" He let out a chuckle before ripping out a few sheets.

Remus whimpered, eyes going wide. He shook his head wildly. Those where his ideas! He didn't care if Virgil liked them, he didn't care if everybody hated them! He just couldn't have them ruined, they were his! And he loved them-

Virgil rolled his eyes and rip the papers in half and then into quarters, and he kept going until the papers where confetti sized.

Remus had thick milk tears running down his face, pooling on the web gag. He wanted to yell, he wanted to hit Virgil. He just wanted Virgil out. But he was stuck. Quiet literally. 

Virgil tore up the rest of his ideas, and then threw it like confetti into the air. He smiled and dropped the cover of the notebook before turning around and walking towards the door. While going out of his way to stomp onto Pumbaa.

Remus growled as loud as he could, thrashing against the webs. Don't fucking leave me like this, you motherfucker! Fuck you piss bitch! He tried to yell against the gag.

Virgil smirked, and opened his door. "Wouldn't it be such a shame if your door lock? So no one could come in?" He chuckled darkly, "Or get out?"

Remus was rightfully freaked out, No! Satan's asshole, please no! The idea of being alone, no one knowing, no one being able to hear him shook him to his core. Whether or not Virgil could do it, didn't matter. Remus' thoughts were already running wild. What if he died here? Alone, even unable to scream?? What if there was spider babies in the sack on his mouth and they hatch and eat his face???

His thoughts were interrupted by his door closing, and the sound of a lock clicking. If he was freaking out before, he was losing his goddamn mind now. He couldn't make sense of his thoughts, the sticky webs seemed to be more sticky and climbing over his skin.

I need out, I need out, I NEED TO GET OUT!

That one solid fact stuck out in his mind, and he tried to sink out, only to find out.

That he can't. He just can't, no matter how hard he tried.

His mind turned from painfully full to excruciating empty.

Milk tears ran down his face and dripping around the web mask as he sobs went unheard.

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

~Anxiety vs The Protector~

Janus gripped the plate harder than needed, as the sound of squeaking shoes came down the stairs. He set the plate into the soapy water, clenching his jaw. The horrid squeaking made its way to the kitchen to right behind him. His back was stiff as he grabbed a sponge and started washing the plate.

He wasn't dumb, this wasn't the first time. It just had never been this extreme. As Self preservation he could always tell the stability of the mind as a whole, and right now everything was crashing to the ground.

"What the hell have you done to everyone Virgil?" Janus said in a calm voice, his angry barely noticeable. Like the last burning coal in a fire pit filled with charcoal, hard to see, but still able to burn. And if the right breeze blew, that single coal could start the spark to burn down a forest.

He kept his hands hidden in the soapy water, scrubbing the plate, hiding the ever so slight shake of his hands.

"Why do you think I had anything to do with it? We both know your the one that hurts Thomas." Virgil replied, his voice oddly soft which was off putting.

Deceit, gave a dry single 'Ha' as he lift the plate out of the soapy water and into the clear rinse water. The soap bubbles from the plate and his shiny gloves spreading out on the clear water. "Now Virgil, I'm suppose to be the lying side. You wouldn't want to be like evil old me, right?" He chastised lightly, shoving down any of his fear. He needed answers, he needed to know what happened so he could help others. To get Thomas stable.

Virgil growled softly, inching closer to Janus' back. "Deceit, you fucking snake. Trying to turn my own words against me?"

Janus rolled his eyes pulling the plate out of the water and placing it in the already half filled dish drainer. "Well, Anxiety, you shouldn't have said it then." He pulled out the plugs from both sinks and watched the water spin down the drains.

Virgil hissed, standing right behind him now. His eyes watched over his shoulder as Janus pulled off the bight yellow rubber washing gloves from his hands showing his scaled hands. "How does it feel to be the monster of the group?" Virgil's voice dripped in false honey, as if asking how Janus' day was going.

His breath hitched, it stung him somewhere deep. It hurt. But he couldn't focus on it at the moment. He needed to stay focused.

He pulled a pair of soft yellow cotton gloves from his pants pocket, slipping them on over his scaley, bumpy ugly hands. Hiding the sight of his hands from both of them. He turned to face Virgil, keeping his face blank. "I don't know, how does it feel?"

Virgils face flushed in anger. Unlike Janus, he felt no need to hide his emotions. His emotions fueled him, pushed him to do what he was doing. "Shut your fucking mouth!" He shouted, getting even closer to Janus face.

The threatened snake growled in warning. His scaled half of his jaw dislocated and dropped, showing off his sharp teeth.

Virgils brow furrowed as if in thought, and Janus felt a cooling pressure surrounding his head, pushing into his brain. "No-" he gasped out as he fell back, his hands catching on the counter, holding him up. Water droplets from the sink darkening his gloves. "You don't get to fucking try that shit on me!" Janus hissed, the pressure intensified before backing off. He winced, eyeing the other in front of him.

Virgil had a shit eating grin on his face, the rest of his face was relaxed. He had found what he needed, and Oh good God was this going to be fun-

"Do you know the real reason I left DeeDee?" Virgils voice was fluffy and sweet like cotton candy. Janus didn't trust it, he didn't trust him. His head ached from the earlier pressure. But maybe if he let Virgil talk he could figure out just what happened.

"I totally do, VeeVee," he spat out the nickname harshly like it had burned his mouth, "You defiantly told Remus and I the reason why, before you left. You, for sure, didn't just leave one day. No note or anything."

Virgil rolled his eyes with a sigh. He looked down at the ground and scoffed the floor with marks with his shoes, "Deceit. You're the reason. You're the reason I left, I couldn't handle you. Always lying about the simplest things.  Not caring about us. Me and Remus. You only ever cared about yourself!" When he started his voice had been soft, but by the end of his rant he was yelling and his voice was breaking... In pain?

Janus mouth was open, he couldn't help it. He was in shock. Damn, he was expecting it, but it still pained him. His brain seemed to grow heavy, he blinked hard, his mouth closing, and refocused his brain. No. He couldn't give in, Thomas needed him.

But Virgil wasn't done.

"Deceit..." He let out a soft, wet chuckle, "You're the reason I ducked out. Your voice haunts me every moment of everyday of my life. I can't stand you. You hurt everybody, you infect everyone you come in contact with." He was staring holes into Janus, the other was breaking before him. His eyes were clouded over, his human eye had a single tear drop out and roll down his cheek. And oh, did it feel great to break him. He just needed to do one last hard hit to get him to completely fall.

Janus was shattering like glass, and he knew it. He just needed to hold out a little longer. He wasn't sure what he was holding out for any more at this point, he just needed to hold on.

But Virgil sound hurt, maybe he really was that horrid. To dive someone to stop doing what they are made to- to drive someone to try to not be. Dear lord, he was a monster. A tear welled in his human eye and slipped down his check.

"You pushed Remus to it too..." Virgil muttered, pulling his hood over his head. He brought his hand up to his face as if wiping away tears.

The snakes legs shook, barely holding him up. "What do you mean, Virgil?" He ask softly. His voice was laced in pain. Virgil had to be lying, right? Remus was his best friend. They shared ideas, watched movies, made dumb plans on how to bug the others. Janus didn't hurt him, like that.

Right?

Virgil sighed, tired, as if he was explaining something simple to a child. "I meant what I said Deceit. Remus has ducked out, and you pushed him to it." Virgil let out a sob, "He ducked out because of you." He lifted his head to look at Janus, "Why can't you just let us be happy?"

Janus shattered into a thousand pieces. His legs gave out and he fell to the floor. He was the one to protect them, not hurt them. He had caused pain. He hurt Thomas, the main person he was suppose to care for. And now his best friend was- no! He could fix this. The lights had helped Virgil, he could help Remus.

He got back up, it was hard too, but he needed to correct this. He had too. He could feel the very foundations of the mind splint like old wood. He needed to fix this. He took a step towards the stairs, up the stairs was his and Remus' room. And once he figured out how to get in his room, he would help his best friend. Because that's what friends do. He had tunnel vision, all he could focus on was the stairs, and getting up those stairs and to Remus-

He took another step towards the stairs, but hand on his chest pushed him back. He turned his head to the owner of the hand, Virgil.

Virgil gave a shake of his head, "Janus," Janus felt a shiver run through his body, this was the first time his name had pasted his mouth, "Do you really think he would want to see you?"

He slowly sat down on the floor again, pulling his knees to his chest. The sound of shoes squeaking echoed in his head, even after the actual noise was to far away to hear. He couldn't really see anything, everything was to blurry with tears. He felt broken and dumb. How could he have been so selfish and not notice what Remus was going though?

Janus gasped, maybe Virgil was right. Virgil would be the one to understand what Remus was going through. Janus nodded, he would give Remus time.

He really was a monster, wasn't he?

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Dynasty Chapter 28

“Oopsy-daisy!” Deadpool said as he shook the body off his katana. The katana he had to then throw to the side since it was bent in the middle.

[I told you not to get them from that vendor. He clearly didn’t know what he was doing.]

{Ugh—his guts are all over our feet.}

Deadpool laughed maniacally, twirled, and shot the next four enemies. Then he looked around, slightly disappointed that there weren’t any more to kill.

[That was what, five bodyguards plus target? It was too easy.]

{There’s someone behind us.}

Deadpool whirled again, gun raised to the head of a young man. The man had white streaks in his orange hair, was dressed in an impeccable suit, and looked nervous. Deadpool didn’t take the nervous part personally—most people were when they talked to him. The young man had both hands raised and part of Deadpool sighed with regret that he wasn’t going to be able to kill the young man. He had two rules: kill no one unarmed and not trying to kill him (unless he was being paid insanely well for it) and two: no children—ever. There was not enough money in the world to make him consider killing a child.

The young man swallowed hard. “I’ve—I’ve heard a lot about you Deadpool.”

Deadpool shrugged without moving the gun. “People have. People talk. People die,” he said simply. “It’s all in good fun, I mean money. I mean money and fun.” He giggled.

The young man looked unnerved. Most people did after talking to Deadpool for a few minutes. “Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about.” The young man swallowed again. “I want to hire you to kill someone for me.”

“Oh? Who is that?”

“Spiderman.”

[Who the fuck is that?]

{Eh, forget. Let’s just kill this fucker.}

“Now now, we can’t kill him,” Deadpool said reasonably. “After all, he’s going to pay us to kill someone else.”

[And just what are you going to do with more money? Buy another shitty sword?]

“I’ll spend my money how I want it!” snarled Deadpool. The young man took a step back. “So, mister—uh—what’s your name?”

“Osborn. Norman Osborn.”

“Well Normie,” Deadpool said as he slipped his gun back into its holster. “We maybe have a deal.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe. I have no fucking clue who Spiderman man, and I don’t kill kids.” He picked up the bent katana and sighed. “White’s right,” he muttered, “cheap ass sword. I bet the bastard wasn’t even a real smith.”

[We can always kill him on the way out of town.]

“So you’re going to do research?” Normie sounds surprised—astonished even.

“Oh yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he told the man. He swung the katana a few times.

{I don’t think it’ll work if we straighten it.}

“Shouldn’t have bent in the first fucking place,” grouched Deadpool as he lumbered off. He walked right off the roof, died, healed, and kept going. Once he reached his place (a real dump, but he didn’t care enough to clean up), he got on his computer (a state-of-the-art laptop because who wants to look at grainy porn), and started researching Spiderman.

According to the inter-web, he he, the spider has only been around for about six months, was both credited for stopping a terrorist organization and cited as the menace behind the organization, and basically did hero stuff. Like one of those stick-in-the-ass Avengers he occasionally ran into. Oh, and he had a blog. Wait—Spiderman had a blog?

Curious he began browsing it. The thing had several different threads; one of them was a rant thread about his villains—yadda yadda yawn—another was about food—was there anything the spider didn’t eat? Not that Deadpool was one to judge—but the third one caught his eye. It was about “everyday heroes.” A clerk spotting a runaway some money for milk (bet she never saw that money again), an officer helping a kid, off the clock, with homework, a gang leader rescuing a kitten from a tree—weird random shit. And Deadpool knew random.

[Oh, that should be our new catchphrase!]

Then Deadpool came across a recent post, and stared for a moment.

I’ve been hearing a lot about a mercenary known as Deadpool. I’ve heard that he’s got no morals, is certifiably insane, and has a larger kill count than the last world war. If you read this Deadpool, I want to tell you something: Don’t kill in my city.

{That’s practically an invitation!}

[Don’t go. It might be a trap.]

“With this shit? No way.” Deadpool jumped up and grinned. “We’re going to New York City!”

[We’re not really going to not kill people, right? Just because a blog said so?]

^^^

Of course, Deadpool hadn’t expected a group of thugs to meet him on one of the buildings. “Osborn ain’t happy with you ‘Pool,” one of them sneered. He flipped out a switchblade—an honest to God switchblade—against Deadpool. “We’re here to kill you.”

“Fellas,” Deadpool said, “I’m flattered—I really am, but have you actually thought this through?”

[His face looks like a gorilla’s ass!]

{Do you think he knows that?}

“No, I don’t think he knows his face looks like a gorilla’s ass, but I’ll ask. Hey flat-face! Did you know your face looks like a gorilla’s ass?” The man’s face suffused with rage and he lunged forwards to attack Deadpool—only to be pulled back by a thick, white strand. Deadpool watched, fascinated, as a figure in a blue and red suit with a white spiderweb symbol on the chest began wrapping the man in the threads.

“Holy shit! It’s Spiderman!” One of the goons crept up behind Deadpool and he landed a punch—that deformed the man’s face.

[What’s that jaw made of, glass?]

“Hey Spidey! I haven’t killed anyone in your city!” He noticed the man on the ground, not moving. “Oh, shit, you are still alive, aren’t you? Don’t make a liar out of me!” He yanked the man on the ground, pulled him up to his ear, and listened. He heard the unmistakable sound of air rushing through tubes. “Yup, still alive,” Deadpool said with satisfaction letting the other man drop to the rooftop.

Spiderman rose from a crouch and looked over at Deadpool. Unlike Deadpool, his mask wasn’t emotive, so Deadpool couldn't tell what Spiderman was thinking. “You must be Deadpool,” Spiderman said.

[He knows who we are!]

{Of course he does! He practically invited us!}

[We’re still going to kill him, aren’t we?]

{Are you nuts? He just saved us!}

[Yeah—but we didn’t need saving.]

{Not like he knows that!}

Deadpool just beamed at Spiderman. “Yes I am!” he said. “And I haven’t killed anyone in your city!” Spiderman walked over to Deadpool.

{I don’t think he’s happy.}

[We should just kill him now!]

Spiderman reached out, and gently touched Deadpool’s shoulder. “Good job,” he said.

[Did—did he just praise us? For not killing people?]

{Not for not killing people, weren’t you listening? For not killing people in his city!}

[Still a first either way.]

“Bank robbery,” muttered Spiderman looking away from Deadpool. “At this time of night?” he asked.

Deadpool couldn't see the hero frown, but could hear it in his voice. Deadpool bounced and clapped his hands. “Oh! Let me come too! I want to help too!” he said.

[He’s not going to want our help, dipshit.]

{Look, just because he invited us to the city doesn’t mean he wants our help.}

“All right,” Spiderman said grudgingly, “but let me call someone first.” He pulled out a phone, flipped it open (seriously, who still has a flip-phone in this day and age) and began to dial.

“A cabbie? A helicopter? Your lady friend?”

“Police,” Spiderman said vaguely.

[Say what now?]

{Eh, if he tries to have us arrested we can just kill him. We were hired to do that anyway.}

Deadpool listened to Spiderman request both police and an ambulance for a criminal that was severely injured during the capture procedure. Then the spider closed the phone and tucked it into the suit—and there wasn’t even a bulge to indicate where it came from. “Holy shit, and they say I’m amazing. Well, never twice, but holy shit! Where, in that tightness, did you put a pocket?”

“Are you going to be like this the whole way?” demanded Spiderman. “Because, if you are, you can find your own way to the bank.” He rattled off an address.

[Holy—not only did he not call the cops on us, but he’s still letting us tag along!]

{I don’t think we can kill him now. Maybe Osborn? But not in this city.}

The spider had long since swung off. “Guys,” Deadpool said, “this nice thing—it’s only an act. I’ll kill him when he slips.” He grinned. “But until then—let’s see where this takes us!” He pulled out a grappling hook and fired it at the next building over so that he could swing like the spider towards the robbery.

^^^

The act didn’t fade. Spiderman not only let Deadpool patrol with him to help the police stop crime (although that was difficult in itself—trusting the police) he frequently thanked the merc for his help. It was—strange. Nice, but—strange. People had never really thanked him before—not even the few people he knew who could listen to him without getting nervous.

That was another odd thing about Spiderman—he didn’t get nervous around Deadpool, not like other people did. Hell, just the other night a criminal had turned, seen Deadpool right beside Spiderman and literally wet his pants right there in fear. It was a given response—a normal response. Deadpool was having trouble with Spiderman’s lack of response.

The blog was fun though. At first he hadn’t thought twice about it, posting about the night’s patrol under the rant section (and was oddly pleased that he wasn’t one of the people Spiderman ranted about)—until Spiderman began responding to his posts which was—frankly terrifying. He wasn’t sure why it made him nervous.

And that day he was reading “Everyday Heroes” to see—himself. A post about how Deadpool, notorious mercenary and cold-blooded killer, waded into thick, NYC traffic to save a kitten that had somehow ended up in the middle of the street. The post was, like all the others in the Everyday Heroes section, short and sweet.

Only thing was, that incident happened in the broad light of day, and Spiderman had been nowhere around.

{He did tell us that he sees more than we think he does.} Yellow sounded anxious.

[He’s making us feel again. That’s never good. We should just kill him and forget this whole thing.]

But—Deadpool didn’t want to kill Spiderman. Hanging out with Spiderman was fun. The hero would laugh at his jokes, praised him for not killing people (in New York City), and thank Deadpool for his help. It was nice, it was fun, and he didn’t want it to end yet.

[You’re right. We should wait to kill him until after he hates us.]

{Spiderman isn’t going to hate us!}

[Everyone hates us; just give it time.]

Deadpool, alone in his crappy apartment (because, again—immortal and who cares), nodded. He would do that. White was right—everyone hated him eventually, and he could enjoy hanging out with the spider until he hated Deadpool too. Then he could kill him.

^^^

It wasn’t until the capture of the giant green lizard that Deadpool realized that Spiderman—Spiderman wasn’t going to hate him. In fact, Spiderman was worried about Deadpool, about how casual Deadpool was with his own life. Staring at the ranting spider the mercenary came to an odd—and yet right—conclusion: Spiderman—cared. Spiderman cared more about Deadpool’s life than anyone else—including Deadpool. It was heartwarming, it was wonderful—and it was terrifying.

[Well, we can’t kill him now.]

Spiderman’s rant ran down and Deadpool frantically searched for something to change the subject. “You hungry? I know a great Mexican place—open twenty-four hours!”

Spiderman stared at Deadpool for a moment in silence.

{I don’t think he’s happy with us.}

[Let’s kill him now!]

Finally the hero heaved a huge sigh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” he asked. The two of them walked to the restaurant, leaving the human that used to be a giant lizard in a box in the alley. They made the walk in silence, they ordered—and Spiderman pulled out his phone and started texting.

“Who are you texting?” asked Deadpool as he helped himself to some of the complimentary nachos.

“Mrs. Conner. We’ve worked out a system; I’m letting her know he turned again and where to pick him up.”

Deadpool stared at Spiderman, as if he hadn’t seen the hero before. “Spidey—are you helping someone avoid the police?”

“Do you honestly think he’ll get the help he needs in prison?” Spiderman demanded. “Besides,” he added as the waitress (sadly, one of those that won’t serve alcohol without a photo ID) brought them their drinks, “he didn’t hurt anyone and honestly? That company deserves a little cosmetic damage. Maybe then people might see them for the monsters they really are.” Spiderman pushed his mask up to his nose and took a sip of the carbonated beverage.

“You should put that on your blog,” Deadpool said. He too, had pushed up his mask. Spiderman either pretended not to see—or really didn’t care.

[Don’t kid yourself—he’s being polite. Besides, it’s dark in here. It’s dark everywhere the two of you go to eat.]

{Maybe. He actually seems to like us.}

Deadpool watched the lower half of Spiderman’s face twist in a grimace. “I really just want to focus on more positive things in that blog.” He gave a tiny smile.

“Like saving kittens in traffic?” Deadpool’s voice was harder than he meant it to be.

The slight smile faded. “Do you mind?” he asked. “If you do, I’ll pull it off.”

[Whoa. He’s offering to change his blog for us!]

{Forget killing him; you should marry him!}

“Eh, no, it’s fine,” he assured the young hero. While Spiderman had never given Deadpool an age it was clear the hero was young. Possibly even young enough to make him qualified for the “no children” rule—although Deadpool was kind of hoping not. The waitress brought their food and walked quickly away. “I was just surprised. I didn’t see you anywhere around at the time.”

Spiderman smiled again. “I told you,” he said calmly, “I see more than you think I do.”

Deadpool couldn't let it go. “Then what about the ones that don’t have a good reason for what they do?” he asked thinking back to the days, not that long ago, when he was one of those people. “What if they can’t change?”

The white eyes of the Spiderman suit met his calmly and the hero shrugged. “What if they can?” he asked.

^^^

A few days later he got a tip about a man he’d been chasing around the globe—and was on a bridge, at twilight, waiting.

{This might not be the best idea. Isn’t Spiderman waiting for us to patrol?}

[It’s Francis! We can’t let that bastard get away with what he did to us!]

“No,” Deadpool said, suit tight over scarred skin as memories of screams and pain washed over him for a moment. “We can’t.”

{We can’t kill him in the city! Spiderman trusts us!}

[Easy—we knock him out, take him outside the limits, and then kill him. Then we’re still not killing someone in the city and we can kill Francis.]

{I think Spiderman might object to that logic.}

[Then we kill him too.]

“We’re not killing Spiderman,” Deadpool muttered as the car his informant had told him about came into the street. “But we are,” he added grimly before getting into position to jump, “going to kill Francis.” He jumped into the car on the street below.

Something unexpected happened after he landed on the car. Several other cars, nearby, braked and then surrounded him in a circle as he felt an odd stinging sensation in his neck. He reached up and pulled out—a dart with a plunger?

“Poor Wade,” said the smooth voice of Deadpool’s most hated enemy. The British accent almost brought back waking nightmares of torture. “Did you really think it would be that easy to kill me? I’m far smarter than you think.” The tall man with his shaved head and hallow eyes stepped out of the car and grinned down at Deadpool.

Deadpool tried to focus—but the world was bleeding into color.

“Did you think you destroyed everything in the facility?” asked Francis, sounding warmly amused. “Oh, we still have all your data—and not even your healing factor can save you now.” Francis strode forward and gripped Deadpool’s chin—and Deadpool couldn't move. His arms were coated in lead. “This time,” the man said savagely, “you will become a perfect little mindless slave.”

There were yells, shouts, and gunfire. Francis pulled his hand away and Deadpool collapsed as the ground turned into a mass of technicolor bubbles with teeth. Teeth that wanted to rip into Deadpool—to rip him apart.

“Deadpool?” asked a familiar voice. ‘Oh, shit!”

[Not like…Spidey…to swear.]

{Ow.}

Deadpool’s world dissolved into nightmares. He had no idea how long they taunted him, haunting him. Making him live through the torture again. To watch his best friend, his only friend (before Spiderman) die again.

He knew when the nightmares stopped though. He could hear birds chirping nearby. He opened his eyes—to see a young man—no, a young teenage boy—right next to him. He froze as he tried desperately to remember how this had happened.

The boy groaned slightly, opened brilliant amber eyes, and then leaned forward to place his cool, smooth forehead against Deadpool’s own.

[Oh my God! He’s touching our skin!]

{Where’s the mask? Where’s the mask?}

Deadpool—was frozen. He knew his face was hideous and that he looked like some kind of old school movie monster. What if the boy realized it? Where had the boy come from? And where was Deadpool for that matter?

“Good,” murmured the boy in satisfaction. “Your fever broke.”

“Fever?” asked Deadpool. He hadn’t had a fever since—not since the first time he saw Francis. Not since his healing factor had kicked in. Since he stopped being able to die.

The boy didn’t answer him, but rolled over and off the bed. “Aunt May,” he called as he padded from the room, “his fever broke!”

“What fever?” asked Deadpool again, his voice harsh and raspy. He rolled over, only to collapse back against the bed panting. His limbs felt like weak, overcooked noodles. “What happened?” he asked.

[Had something to do with that damn dart.]

{Weasel gave us up!}

Deadpool felt a brief wave of anger at the bartender/informant—that quickly drained away. Of course Weasel had given Deadpool up the same way that Deadpool would have done the same to Weasel if their positions had been reversed. Deadpool couldn't hate him for that.

[I’ll hate him for all three of us then.]

An old woman, dressed in a button-down the front blue blouse with faded blue jeans, came into the room and looked at Deadpool, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed. “So you’re finally back with us. Well, Deadpool or whatever you call yourself, get dressed.” She gestured to a chair with clothes on it. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

[Who is she to give us orders?]

{Where are we? And why do we feel weak?}

“Good question,” muttered Deadpool. He looked up as the boy entered the room again. “Where am I?”

“My house,” the boy said calmly, as if he carried injured mercenaries into his home every day. Maybe he did. “I didn’t know where you lived and you needed help.” The boy frowned. “Aunt May used to be a nurse, so I thought—well, she knew what to do.”

“Wait,” said Deadpool, confused. “What?”

The boy blinked those huge amber eyes and then grinned. “Sorry,” he said, “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Peter Parker. Also,” he added with a sly twinkle, “known as Spiderman.”

Deadpool stared for a moment. What—Spiderman—here? Spiderman willingly took Deadpool home? “How—how did you know I was on that bridge?” he asked warily.

“I keep telling you that I see more than you think I do,” the boy—Peter responded.

And Deadpool realized where he’d seen that face before. When he’d waded into traffic to save that kitten, that face had been on the sidewalk, watching him as he verbally abused the drivers who would run over a helpless little animal because they were in a hurry, Peter had been one of the faces in the crowd. One of the few weren’t being exasperated with him. “You were there,” he said wonderingly, “that day I saved the kitten. But—I didn’t—I didn’t notice you.”

Peter, instead of taking offense, merely chuckled. “It’s an art to be unnoticeable,” he said. “I’ve been perfecting it for years.”

Deadpool laughed a little breathlessly. He started to hold out a scarred hand, and hesitated.

[He’s already seen us.]

{And he’s not making gagging noises!}

Deadpool swallowed and held out his hand. “Wade,” he said introducing himself for the first time since the torture. “Wade Wilson.”

Peter gently took Wade’s hand, and then helped the man stand up. Wade wasn’t surprised—on one of their patrols he’d seen Spiderman lift and toss a huge concrete pillar from a parking garage that collapsed. Wade was more surprised by the fact he needed help getting dressed—since the healing factor kicked in he hadn’t been weak for longer than it took for him to come back to life. He also needed help getting down the stairs to the table—which was set with homemade waffles, fake maple syrup, and bowls of fresh fruit next to tall glasses of juice.

It was a better meal than anything Wade had seen in years. “Thank you,” he said as Peter helped him into a seat.

The old woman—Aunt May—watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment. “I understand,” she said looking at him, “that you’re the reason Peter has decided to come clean about his—extra curricular activities.” Peter winced.

“I had no idea he was going to be there,” Wade protested.

“Of course you didn’t,” said the woman. “You don’t understand,” she said, “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m saying that Peter has finally found a reason to talk to me again.”

Peter winced. “Aunt May—” he began.

“Yes, I know—you were trying to protect me.” She snorted. “I have a better chance of not being in danger if I know that there is danger!”

Peter shrank slightly. “Yes, Aunt May.”

She snorted. “Reckless child,” she muttered affectionately. The three of them sat down together and ate.

The experience was—novel. The closest thing Wade had to compare to it was those late night meals he grabbed with Spiderman. Prior to that Wade hadn’t had a meal in company—a meal eaten with another person—since before the torture.

And no one at this table wanted to kill Wade, or torture him, or hurt him. It was—new.

Near the end of the meal Peter spoke up. “About that—man,” he said grimly, “that shot you with the dart. Francis.” Oddly enough Peter made the name sound like a curse and Wade looked up warily. Bright, amber eyes met his and he said grimly, “I told him he had twenty-four hours to get out of my city.”

“Don’t kill in my city.”

Peter was giving Wade permission to go after Francis and finish the man off.

“That’s nice,” said Aunt May blithely, reminding both of them of her presence. “Peter, take the dishes to the sink and then take garbage. I want that bin by the curb for them to pick up.” Peter kissed his aunt on the cheek as he gathered the dishes and left the room. “He’s a good boy. We raised him well,” she said absently before turning to face Wade again. “As for you,” she said grimly. “You like him.”

It wasn’t a question, and Wade didn’t respond to it.

“If you kill that man, and I’m not going to say he doesn’t deserve to to die after the nightmares you had—”

What had Wade said in his sleep? How much did they know? He stared at the old woman and realized—she’d never tell him.

“—but if you kill him you will change the relationship you are building with that boy forever. Be prepared for that,” she said firmly as Peter came back into the kitchen.

^^^

A few weeks later saw Wade completely healed.

[Don’t you think it’s odd that we’re not calling ourselves Deadpool anymore?]

{No more odd than the fact we’re calling Spidey Petey.}

He found himself in Weasel’s bar, and if he’d had any doubts about the man’s information the way the bartender went completely white at the mere sight of him showing up would have killed them.

[I still say we should kill him.]

{Not in Peter’s city.}

[Eh.]

“Dead—Deadpool,” Weasel stammered. “How—how are you buddy?” He swallowed.

“A lot better than our mutual friend Francis wants me to be,” Deadpool said as he sat on one of the bar stools. He leaned on his elbows on the bar and looked over the bartender who looked nervous.

“I’m sorry man,” the bartender said. “I didn’t want—it’s nothing personal.”

Deadpool smiled. “Oh, I know,” he said cheerfully. “The same way I know that if our positions were reversed I would do the same thing. No, I came here because you’re going to do me a favor.”

“A favor?” asked Weasel.

“Nothing you haven’t done before. You’re just going to spread some information—for me this time.”

“And what—information would that be?” asked Weasel nervously.

“Anyone who tries to go after Spiderman will have to go through me.”

Wade never did leave the city to hunt down Francis. After all, if Deadpool left New York—then who would protect Spiderman?

[gabtapia]

Warning extra long ask lmao:

The last three chapters broke me. 😭😭😭

But the worse thing was reading first two paragraphs of ch 31 and having it go from Patroclus’s narrative to third person narrative because Patroclus is dead so he can’t tell the story anymore 🥺🥺😭

I have so much to say so i’m gonna use quotes to help:

“A prophecy,” she said. “That the best of the Myrmidons will die before two more years have passed.”

She draws down the blanket, releasing me into the air. She cups my face in her hands. “Be careful tomorrow,” she says. “Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons.” She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. “It is truth,” she says. “Let it stand, for once.” Then she leads me to the side of her tent, helps me slip beneath the canvas. The last thing I feel is her hand, squeezing mine in farewell.

No. My hands flurry in the air like startled birds, trying to halt the spear’s relentless movement towards my belly. But I am weak as a baby against Hector’s strength, and my palms give way, unspooling in ribbons of red. The spearhead submerges in a sear of pain so great that my breath stops, a boil of agony that bursts over my whole stomach. My head drops back against the ground, and the last image I see is of Hector, leaning seriously over me, twisting his spear inside me as if he is stirring a pot. The last thing I think is: Achilles.

WHY??? Why does Patroclus have to be the person of the prophecy. They made it pretty obvious that it was him but my God actually reading it I-

Calm down Chiara. Say this properly.

WAIT NO THERE IS NO WAY TO SAY THS PROPERLY PARTOCLUS IS DEAD 😭 AND THE FEW PARTS WHERE ACHILLES DOESN’T KNOW HE’S DEAD YET MY GOD I JUST STARTED BAWLING IT HURT TOO MUCH

HIS GRIEF AFTER PATROCLUS DIES IS JUST SO RAW I COULD LTERALLY IMAGNINE PATROCLUS IN THE TENT AND ACHILLES CRYING OVER HIS BODY AND MY HEART-

But he cannot feel it. There is a numbness in him. The writhing field is like a gorgon’s face, turning him slowly to stone. The snakes twist and twist before him, gathering into a dark knot at the base of Troy. A king has fallen, or a prince, and they are fighting for the body. Who? He shields his eyes, but no more is revealed. Patroclus will be able to tell him.

HE SEES THE THING IN PIECES. Men, coming down the beach towards the camp. Odysseus, limping beside the other kings. Menelaus has something in his arms. A grass-stained foot hangs loose. Locks of tousled hair have slipped from the makeshift shroud. The numbness now is merciful. A last few moments of it. Then, the fall.

He snatches for his sword to slash his throat. It is only when his hand comes up empty that he remembers: he gave the sword to me. Then Antilochus is seizing his wrists, and the men are all talking. All he can see is the bloodstained cloth. With a roar he throws Antilochus from him, knocks down Menelaus. He falls on the body. The knowledge rushes up in him, choking off breath. A scream comes, tearing its way out. And then another, and another. He seizes his hair in his hands and yanks it from his head. Golden strands fall onto the bloody corpse. Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only. Somewhere Odysseus is kneeling, urging food and drink. A fierce red rage comes, and he almost kills him there. But he would have to let go of me. He cannot. He holds me so tightly I can feel the faint beat of his chest, like the wings of a moth. An echo, the last bit of spirit still tethered to my body. A torment.

I’M MAD AT BOTH OF THEM FOR BEING STUPID IDOITS FOR ACHILLES NOT LETTING HIS PRIDE GO AND FOR PATROCLUS FUCKING GETTING HIMSELF KILLED BUT I CAN’T EVEN STAY MAD AT THEM BECUASE HELL THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND THEY DIDN’T DESERVE ANY OF IT

And then Pyrrhus? I want to kill the asshole:

“When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together.”

There's is a slight pause. “Your father and his companion. Patroclus.” “And why should this man be buried beside Aristos Achaion?” The air is thick. They are all waiting to hear Menelaus’ answer. “It was your father’s wish, Prince Neoptolemus, that their ashes be placed together. We cannot bury one without the other.” Pyrrhus lifts his sharp chin. “A slave has no place in his master’s tomb. If the ashes are together, it cannot be undone, but I will not allow my father’s fame to be diminished. The monument is for him, alone.” Do not let it be so. Do not leave me here without him. The kings exchange glances. “Very well,” Agamemnon says. “It shall be as you say.” I am air and thought and can do nothing.

Pyrrhus’ hand closes on the shapeless, blowing dress of the princess Polyxena and yanks her towards the altar. “This is what my father’s soul deserves.” He will not. He dare not. As if in answer, Pyrrhus smiles. “Achilles is pleased,” he says, and tears open her throat. I can taste it still, the gush of salt and iron. It seeped into the grass where we are buried, and choked me. The dead are supposed to crave blood, but not like this. Not like this.

And then the way Achilles just becomes a cold killer after Patroclus dies reading that part felt so bad because it wasn’t Achilles anymore and i was so glad when he died. But then Patroclus didn’t get a proper bury and i freaked because why??? I thought the book might end with him not being reunited with Achilles in the underworld and i had another good cry because seriously that would be the most unfair thing. I was so, so, so happy when Thetis wrote his name.

So basically i’m not okay right now and ever time i think about them before the war happen my eyes fill with tears because they were just so happy and innocent and in love and it hurts to think of what happened during the war. I’m glad i read this book thought, but i know the pain wont go away for a while watch me punish myself by reading all the fluffy scenes 😭

@in-love-with-themoon did you finish yet? I realize i may be spoiling for you, sorry about that! 😅 tell me if your finished the book! And i will send you bunches and bunches of tissues

Sending you lots of love, hugs, ice cream, and tissues!! 💙

I swear I had to take a break after reading that book

The last 3 chapters are just pain

Tbh I was crying since they said goodbye to Chiron because Achilles told him that they were going to come back in a few days and I was like nope you are not and even Chiron knew they weren't coming back 😭😭😭

Since the prophecy said that "the best of myrmidons" I was like fuck is Patroclus and this is bad

The scene that broke me was when Patroclus said that they didn't say the words (I love you) because they would have more time to say them, like in the night when they talk about their day and I was like please tell him 😭😭😭😭😭

THE MOST PAINFUL THING IS THAT EVEN WHEN PATROCLUS KNEW HE WAS GONNA DIE, HE TRIED TO STOPPED HECTOR BECAUSE HE KNEW THAT IF HECTOR KILLED HIM, ACHILLES WOULD KILLED HECTOR AND THE ACHILLES WOULD DIE AND HE DIDN'T WANT THAT 😭😭

AND OMG I WAS SO MAD WITH THEM, WITH ACHILLES FOR BEING SO STUBBORN AND WITH PATROCLUS FOR FIGHTING EVEN WHEN HE KNEW HE DIDN'T STAND A CHANCE!!! 😭

YES I KNOW WHEN ACHILLES IS SURE THAT PATROCLUS IS GONNA COME BACK AND EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE FINE, BUT WE KNOW THAT HE IS ALREADY DEAD 😭😭😭😭

ACHILLES GRIEVE BROKE ME HOW HE DIDN'T WANT TO SEPARATE FROM THE BODY AND HOW HE JUST WANTED TO KILL HECTOR AS SOON AS POSSIBLE

AND I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT WHEN HECTOR'S FATHER TALKED WITH ACHILLES AND TOLD HIM THAT THEY SHOULD LET THE DEAD REST, AND ONLY AFTER THAT ACHILLE AGREED TO BURN THE BODY 😭😭😭

WHEN ACHILLES DIED WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT THAT FINALLY HE COULD BE REUNITED WITH PATROCLUS 😭😭😭

Don't let me get started with Pyrrhus I hate that jerk so much I was happy when thetis said he was dead!, When he was taking decisions on his father's name I was like stfu you don't even know him!!

And for real I thought they would never be reunited and that Patroclus' soul would be strand in the living world forever I was crying but then thetis appeared and for once in the whole book she wasn't a bitch!

Yes before the war they would never imagine what the fate had for them and it's so sad because they just wanted to love each other, and their love was so beautiful and I love their communication because no matter how bad the things were they always tell the truth to the other 😭😭😭

Believe me I already reread their fluffy scenes and it's never enough! 😭

I'm glad you enjoy the book too, even when it left us with a void in the heart!!

[jcmorrigan]

blakeworther- I personally I love your hc’s so much- any au’s or anything ya got for them? I really wanna know more about what goes on.

This was once again a BAD QUESTION TO ASK

Aside from the Skyward Sword AU, which I never went back to again, there’s only one AU that I like for Blakeworther, which is the AU that I like for everything ever. I’m not even sure I consider it a true AU, even though it absolutely is. So, okay, I have this thing called the WHAM ARMY, which is a massive crossover group of my favorite villains (led by the eight who make up the acronym but this ain’t about them). Obviously, because Victor, Vincent, and Albert are all pretty firmly villains (even if they lean “those weird morally bereft people we end up being friends with somehow”), I want them to join the WHAM ARMY. So my thoughts for them here are pretty much how they’d react in a multicrossover setting, which of my other villain loves they’d get along with, and what the intro arc is for them. Keep in mind I haven’t gotten here in the fanfic yet, so some of this could change in practice, but here are my plans right now.

Cringe ahead.

-They aren’t the originals. I want to make something that doesn’t trip over canon’s current trajectory, even though I don’t know exactly where canon is going, so what happens is that Vexen (Kingdom Hearts) is going to rebuild the three of them as replicas, since he can easily find memory cores for Victor and Vincent in Myers’ storage rooms and there’s just going to be an Albert core there for no reason.

-Vexen then pulls some Chain of Memories magic and restricts the memories they have access to. They will only remember things we have literally seen in VTSOM/TWDAK, and then I can have him release more of their memory banks to them as we get more chapters. (Even if they all three get redemption arcs, my replica versions can stay little shits!)

-He DOES NOT tell them that they’re not the originals! For all they know, they fell asleep at the last day they remember and woke up here. But they figure it out on their own despite his best efforts. They still want to get their memories back anyway so they know what the people they were replicated from were like and have a framework to build their personalities from.

-Yes, of course they’re cyborgs! Cyborg replicas. Since they’re operating by KH rules, they prooooobably don’t need to eat human meat? But also I like when villains do fucked-up things and I have jokes about the others packaging “cyborg chow” to embarrass them so maybe they still do engage in a little cannibalism, as a treat

-Each was engineered with a different specialty. Vincent’s is raw physical strength; he can walk into a gunfight without even needing a weapon and still have a chance of winning. Victor’s arms have been upgraded to hold a variety of cannons; he’s the team sniper. Albert is the team “mage”; he can conjure Dream Eaters. In this AU, TWDAK Dream Eaters and KH Dream Eaters are basically the same thing. Albert has mastered a strange art of being able to draw Dream Pieces out of the Realm of Sleep and implant them in physical forms of creatures in the waking world, creating his army. They look like they do because he hates the pastel aesthetic of KH Dream Eaters and redesigned his personal ones to look more fitting with his aesthetic. He’s also a speedster.

-The intro mission involves Vexen attempting to track down a newly-rebuilt Xion (this AU is divergent from KHIII) in Radiant Garden so he can bring her back under his control with some brainwashing. I’m also bringing in the Tsviets as past experiments of Vexen’s, so he’s basically pitting his newer models of experiment against his old ones.

-The party he already has built by this point is going to be Demyx, Simon Laurent (Infinity Train), Tsumugi Shirogane (DanganRonpa), skekSil (The Dark Crystal), and a couple other people I haven’t hinted at instory yet and don’t quite want to spoil. But Simon, Tsumugi, and skekSil will all also be Vexen’s creations - Simon and skekSil are replicas and Tsumugi is an android.

-Vincent, Victor, and Albert wake up for the first time, and while Vincent and Victor remember each other as friends, they’re just like “And why is our nemesis from RMU also here?”

-Albert probably fights with Vincent for dominance of the trio and I’m not sure which one of them is the trio leader at this point.

-I moved Nine Bean Hill from World of Final Fantasy to Radiant Garden because Radiant Garden needs a coffee shop and first of all, thanks to Hunger Games Simulator fuckery, my friends and I have an in-joke about Vincent Edgeworth having an eternal grudge against Dunkacino, so I’m going to use the coffee shop to reference this somehow without having to put actual Corporate Brainwashed Al Pacino in this ‘verse

-But also I like to think Lann and Reynn play a lot of bubblegum pop, so catch Victor and Albert dancing to the PA like idiots and then getting Demyx, skekSil, and Simon in on it while Vincent and Vexen are like “Oh God why are these our friends”

-(There are reasons this particular Demyx goes by a different name instory and it’s weirding me out to type “Demyx” for this post)

-Without spoiling too much of the arc, there IS a part where Blakeworther beats up the Tsviets, there IS a part where they battle the Anima summon from FFX and win, and there IS a part where despite all of this, Xion kicks their asses across the city

-They go through this mission seeing each other as partners and friends (though Vincent and Albert are reluctant to use the “friend” word at first), but after they all get back to base, they’re just...suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that they’re strangers in a strange land missing half their memories.

-They room together, and they end up crawling into the same bed for solidarity reasons. This is actually where I first envisioned the “rough day” sleeping position - Vincent and Victor are chest-to-chest, then Albert just snuggles in behind Victor and the other two are like “Okay, we’re gonna just let this happen” and Vincent and Albert touch at one tangent point where their arms cross.

-The days might get a little rougher after they realize they aren’t even the originals.

-Eventually they assimilate into the chaos house with no problem.

-Vincent tends to hang out with the party poopers of the house. Especially Mozenrath (Aladdin: The Animated Series). (P.S. If there are any VTSOM fans out there who also know the 90s Aladdin TV series...I CAN’T be the only one who noticed the surface similarities here, right?)

-Victor Blake and Roman Torchwick (RWBY). Oh, God, this is the hell duo. They’re party animals who love to dance and drink and dance drunk. It was not a good idea to let these two redheads meet.

-Albert and Neopolitan (RWBY)! They both love stabbing people and Victorian button boots! I actually kinda have this idea that they would pick up more fucked-up serial killer types to hang out with them - Mad Madam Mim (The Sword in the Stone) is their patron despite being a much tamer example, but Albert also decides he really likes Scaramouche (Samurai Jack), Junko Enoshima (DanganRonpa), and Jerome Valeska (Gotham).

-For a real deep cut, Albert also opens up a joint Dream Therapy office with Dr. Cheshire Broach (Crypt TV). It’s either called “Krueger & Broach” or “Broach & Krueger” depending on how long it takes either to notice that the other moved his name to the front of the sign again. You should ABSOLUTELY not trust either of these men to give you legitimate therapy (though if you’re good friends with them, they can and will use their dreamon powers to help you best your nightmares in a bloody fashion).

-Actually this ‘verse is the entire reason I thought of them doing drag karaoke to “United We Stand” by Amberian Dawn because the WHAM ARMY is all about karaoke, drag, and any combination of the two

-I haven’t decided yet if their romance will be a slow burn or a faster affair. I’m expecting them to tell me as I write out the fic. But I think in a lot of respects, it’s going to be more of a friends-to-lovers story than their original forms had. The three of them are forced to become an elite cyborg warrior unit created by the same mad scientist, they had a big bonding mission together where they became ride or die (whether or not they want to admit it), and eventually...we can start revealing that they’re CATCHING FEELINGS.

-The WHAM ARMY has many, many power couples and ships of various numbers of people but Blakeworther ends up becoming yet another POWER THROUPLE around base, and it’s understood that messing with one of them will earn the wrath of the other two

-They go on to assist in many, many missions with the purpose of taking over various worlds and kingdoms and just fucking them up

-Vincent Edgeworth will kill the TBTC equivalent of Dunkacino

You have to understand that TBTC is my hyperfixation to end all hyperfixations. Every piece of fiction I touch ends up related to it in some way. At some point the majority of how I interact with Blakeworther is going to be through this AU. I’m just a sucker for crossovers and villains having a place to be bros and party.