#also i had to google if you can kill someone with a stick so...

[corgiplays]

So...since a mutual posted on here after a while I decided to post a little thing as well (It's actually like almost 3k words so not that little.)

⚠️gore warning ⚠️

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Moonlight filtered through branches leaving lighting like shapes in the ground. It was a quiet night, nothing moved and not a sound could be heard. But the eerie silence of the night was cut short as a girl ran through the moonlit forest.

Boots crunched against the dead ground as a girl ran through the forest. She was panting hard as she ran making sure to keep her distance from the thing that was chasing her. It was a horrid excuse of a wolf, its snout was peeling back exposed sharp teeth in the skin and while it ran on all fours after her it stood and walked on two legs. And now as its acidic breath was hitting her neck getting closer with each puff, she knew that this forest would be the only one to know of her death.

The things teeth scraped against her neck making jolts of electricity run along her nerves, and with that sensation self preservation kicked in and she moved to the left, moving her neck away from the jaws of the beast and instead having them clamp around her shoulder. Pain licked at her shoulder as she let out a pained scream as a sickening crunch of what had to some bone along her shoulder broke in the beast's jaw. The pain was horrendous and everything in her screamed to stop fighting and let the beast win, but a smaller part that was growing wanted her to fight back, so she did.

She stopped running, the abrupt stop sent the beast past her, letting go of her shoulder so it wouldn’t fall. One thing she didn’t account for was the beast too charge through her, knocking her to the ground and having it’s claws dig into her back. Another scream was ripped from her, this time muffled by the dirt she was laying face down in. But the beast could stop its momentum enough to stay on her and continued forward allowing the teen to turn upright and move away, her one good arm trying to grab anything that would help her fight off the beast.

But the beast was taking its time to slowly stalk over as it walked on two legs, towering over her. The girl backed herself up against a tree, the rough bark digging into her bloody wounds and bringing a whimper from her. This made the beast smirk to the best of its ability as the skin from its mouth hung limply. It moved in bending down to place its deformed hands next to the girl as it’s jaws opened in a snarl, it moved to clamp them around their victim’s throat but something sharp pierced their own throat making them stagger back as a clawed hand reached out to feel something poking out from their throat.

A gurgled roar left their mouth as they tried to swipe at the girl they were chasing only for her to slip through their grasp before their own blood choked them out with no way to get air in their lungs.

The teen stood there panthing as they wiped blood off of their face and spitting out some that landed in her mouth. The beast laid motionless as blood slowly stopped pumping, its heart stopped. She fell to her knees as her legs gave out, exhausted after running for so long with the beast trying to catch her, she closed her eyes letting the adrenaline leave her body. But as she opened them a blue spectral version of the beast stood in front of her.

“Well met hunter.” The spectral beast spoke with its deformed jaw moving like a person’s would. The girl was too tired to fully understand what was going on as the spectral beast walked closer.

“I’m not a hunter, I’m a teenager. My name is Robin and I’m guessing you don’t want to be called a monster or beast.” Robin snarked to the beast who glared in disapproval before morphing into a man with a stag’s skull on his head.

“I am the daedric prince Lord Hircine, and you have hunted down one of my hounds.” Hircine didn’t sound all too sad about Robin just killing his “hound”.

“Aren’t you mad at me or something?” Robin looked at the prince with a confused look as she spoke expecting to be killed for doing such.

“No, you freed her from the corruption, and no matter who won, a hunt took place, where the prey became the hunter. Both metaphorically and physically.” Hircine sounded all too smug for Robin’s liking.

“What do you mean physically?” She stood up on shaky legs trying to get eye level with the prince but finding she needed to look up more, she scowled at him before pain bloomed from her chest and spread like a wildfire through her body.

“I mean, my hound bit you, spreading my blessing and her blood helped to accelerate the speed in which you would transform. So now listen closely hunter…” Hircine crouched down to Robin who was back on her knees as her bones cracked and molded themselves into something new, “I want you to find Kodlak, you will know it is him by the wolf head ring on his hand, and I want you to kill him. Tear him apart if you want, in doing so you will be granted my ring which he has. That will help you control your beast side and help contain your bloodlust. Good hunt, my hound.” With that Hircine disappeared leaving Robin to wither in her pain as her clothes ripped and teared at her body, fur grew to cover her skin while her mouth extended into a wolf’s jaw. Her teeth fell out to make way for sharp fangs to break her gums leaving the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Each bone broke and put itself back together making her whole body disproportionate as it molded into a bipedal wolf.

Everything was more acute, her eyes, ears, nose, taste, everything around her from the taste of the air to the sound of a sleeping rabbit was so intense. Robin brought her now clawed hands up to her face as it touched her snout. I wasn’t limply handing off like the beast before, instead there were muscles under the rough pads of her hands. Robin didn’t stay long to take in her new body before shouting came from the woods. Faint as it was, her new canine ears picked up the sound and her body moved on auto pilot.

She broke out into a sprint running on all fours as she ran past trees, the dying leaves and moist ground muffling her movements. In no time she found herself in front of a small cabin, Christmas lights flickered inside the house as three different voices now filled with panic instead of anger hushed quietly before stopping completely. Robin moved closer to the house, staying low to the ground while the people inside stopped moving.

She waited, time seemed to slow before a squelching sound, almost like peeling skin mingled with the sound of heavy breathing. The lights were still flicking while the three people inside started to move. The sound of a heavy object hitting flesh and gunshots rang inside the house and a roar just like the one that the beast gave when it cased Robin. She waited until the people inside started to move away before barreling through the door.

The beast turned towards Robin, but it was knocked to the ground as Robin roared in its face. The light continued to flicker, illuminating the monster's face in flashes. Its face was more decomposed than the one that chased her, but it still resembled what she can only think she looks like. The beast's hind legs get under Robin and push her off its claws digging in slightly into her stomach. Robin stumbles back while the monster stands up, a ring glinting on its withered hand.

Kodlak, an almost red hue blanket Robin’s vision as she charged at Kodlak getting a swipe into his upper arm as he moved around her to bite her opposite arm while his swiped arm dug into her torso and rammed her into the wall. Robin let out an enraged growl and bit into the arm that was holding her torso. With a satisfying crunch the skin and bone broke under her powerful jaws and with a quick jerk of her head to the right the arm ripped from the thin skin holding it together. The action made Kodlak let go of her arm and back away to roar in agony.

The people in the house watched in horror as the two monsters fought each other, they didn’t know if they should run or help the more normal looking creature.

Robin growled at the roar and crouched on the ground before launching at Kodlak, locking her jaws around his torso she pushed him up before slamming him onto the coffee table breaking it into pieces under him. She then lets her jaw open before towering over Kodlak, her hands dig into his chest, skin breaks and blackish blood flows from the wounds. Her hands clamp around his ribs while a foot rests on his torso pushing out blood before she pulls on his ribs breaking them from the sternum and spine. Five ribs on each side come out, they clatter to the ground before Robin clamps her snout around his heart, eating it whole. Looking at the arm still attached she carefully takes off the ring on his ring finger and slides it on her middle finger.

Kodlak’s dead and limp body lies in the room, Robin’s golden brown fur is covered in red and blackish blood from herself and Kodlak. A shuffling makes her turn around with a warning rumble from the back of her throat reverberated through the home. scared  gray blue eyes stared widely at Robin, a gun leveled with her head.

“Nance, whatever you’re thinking, don't do it.” The pompous haired guy spoke to the girl, her eyes narrowed, but the tremor in her hands holding the gun gave away how she was still scared.

“We don’t know if this…thing-”

“Demogorgon, the kids call it a demogorgon, but it really doesn’t look like one.” The greasy haired one spoke, cutting off the girl, Nance. Nance huffed as she stared at the creature in front of her. Stormy blue eyes clashed to ocean blue, almost like a storm over the ocean, and in that short staring contest Robin relaxed her expression for just a second before baring her teeth back at the teens in front.

That split second was all Nance needed.

She lowered her gun as the two guys looked at each other. Robin looked at the three teens one more time before moving slowly towards the door. Once she left the doorway she ran off into the woods towards her home while the three teens inside watched her run into the forest, the darkness hiding any trace of the beast ever being here.

“So…where are we going to bury this body?” Steve spoke up, his eyes glued to the dead body left in the living room.

“We can burn it.” Jonathan spoke up, glancing at the window one last time.

“Yeah, burning it sounds good.” Steve agreed as the two of them walked into the bedroom they were hiding in to grab the spare gasoline they bought. Nancy stood in the window staring at the spot the wolf monster ran through, she was going to find out who or what that was tonight that saved them, she thought to herself before going to help the boys with burning the body.

---

Robin ran and didn’t stop running till she saw her home in the tree line. Her body ached and while the blood from her wounds stopped pouring the pain of having teeth and claws digging into her body all night was still there. She reached her back door and slowly pushed it open, her parents weren't home before everything happened, but she didn’t know if they came back in between the time she was running for her life to her murder of Kodlak. Everything was dark in the house and there was no sound of breathing or a heart beating. A puff of air left Robin as her aching body started to break under her, she wanted to scream but she bit her lip to keep any pained sounds from leaving her body. Once she was back in her normal body, naked and bloody while pink colored wounds popped against her sickly looking skin. She cried, curled up on her hardwood floor, with no energy left to stand up much less clean the blood off her body.

“Get up hunter. There is no point in weeping for a hound that lost his mind.” The spectral Hircine spoke to her as she stayed in the same position curled up on the floor. Hircine huffed at Robin but sat down next to her, his spectral hand gently patted at her back. “I have had many hounds break after their first turn, many had killed more than you have, some killed their own families in the blinding bloodlust that comes with the first turn. And many less had lived to tell the tale that they held my ring in their possession. You are my last hound and hunter, the rest got corrupted and became the monsters that you killed. You did not kill anyone, you freed two of my hounds from the pain they endured. Do not feel bad, many have died by my hunters and hounds, but you not only became my hunter but my hound as well. Now stand up, clean yourself of corrupt blood and sleep.” Hircine’s words sunk into Robin and weighed against her chest, suddenly this daedric prince was putting all his faith into Robin when her own parents didn’t even have a quarter of the faith he had, and Robin really didn’t want anyone else to be disappointed in her.

She stood up, legs shaky and sore as they supported her body weight, Hircine stayed close to her all the way to her room to grab her towel and sleepwear before following her to the bathroom. He stood outside the whole time Robin sat in the shower letting the water run over her body as red and brown water swirled down the drain. She did end up scrubbing her body down from any blood or dirt still left on her skin and washed her hair from the same concoction of blood and grime. She looked in the mirror, her hair hung loosely around her sunken face, dark purple bruises clung to the bottom of her eyes, pink scarred teeth marks covered her right shoulder and left forearm while pink scarred claw marks raised the skin of her torso and most likely her back and looking in the mirror Robin couldn’t tell if it was really her looking back at her. She left the bathroom with a clean body covered in soft green flannel pants and a black t-shirt with the minty taste of her toothpaste clinging to her mouth as Hircine led her to her room.

Robin slid under the covers but her eyes stayed open. Everything felt like too much for her, the sounds of the forest, the humm of the lamp posts outside of her home, the smell of her parents while as stale as it was clung to the air. It wasn’t until her bed dipped to her left and a surprisingly warm hand started to run through her hair that her eyes started to droop before closing completely.

Even breaths and a steady heartbeat were the only sounds in the room as Hircine sat next to his hound. She was not his youngest hound to ever shift but she was the first to have never heard of him before. He knew he would have to teach her, she did not have a pack to guide her, he could sense the loneliness of the den his hound sees as home; but it was not a home in his eyes. Hircine’s spectral body started to drift away as he said “Sleep well hunter.”

[babyblankyerror]

On the Stanley hit man thing(please note 1: prices are at least semi accurate to the 70s and 2: I have no idea how hitmen work and there’s only so many google searches I’m willing to have in my history. Also the name of The Guy is a reference to an actual person who was related to an actual big US government fuck up):

Rubbing soap and water into well-worn gloves in some gas station bathroom in the middle of the night was, at this point, a new normal for Stanley. There were better ways to do this, he knew that, but patience and a horrifying amount of soap did the job just fine. Better than leaving the gloves on the ground where someone might stumble across them and realise there are small dried splatters on them.

The best way to get blood out of fabric was to wash it out quickly. Flood it with water, then scrub soap into it and try to wear through it with paper towel after paper towel until the water runs clear. It was a similar method to removing paint from a roller or shirt. That meant that Stan could just pretend he’d messed up on some project, for an art class or something. Or was messing around with his brother's paints. There was only so well that could work after years of the same routine, but it still worked so there was no reason to change it.

As he ran the gloves under the faucet again, the water flowed only carrying suds. No more damning pinkish hue. Now he just had to dry them, and that could be done back in the Stanley-Mobile.

First he’d have to leave the gas station. Then call the number given to him last week when he got the job and tell them it was done. He’d learn where to meet them to get the back half of his payment, then he could see how to split it. Enough to keep going went to him, a little bit went towards saving in case of an emergency, and the rest went to his dork of a brother.

The first step, out of all of them, was always the hardest. There are only so many ways you can hide sopping wet gloves, especially when it’s warm enough out that you can’t just wear a bulky jacket with inner pockets.

He folded them in half, longways, and put one in each of his pant pockets. It was as inconspicuous as he could get.

Stan hurried to the door of the bathroom, before opening it at a much more reasonable speed and meandered out of the gas station store. He took special care to walk in plain view on his way out. As much as he’d love to skirt around the edge of the store to keep out of view, that would only look suspicious and risk drawing attention.

As the store door closed behind him he let his shoulders drop slightly and fished his gloves out of his pocket as well as his keys. His car was parked right outside so there was no need to separate the actions.

Unlocking the door he sat down in the driver’s seat. He already had a small towel on the passenger side of the bench seats. He dropped the gloves on the towel before swinging his door shut, sticking his key in the ignition, and starting the engine. There was a pay phone a few blocks down, but having just left the store he should still move his car.

It was funny how despite about… three years, he wants to say, he still was always on edge after a job. It made sense, considering that the jobs he took consisted of killing people, but it was still a lot of time to adjust to it. At least the pay was good, and he had ways to get through the actual murder part.

Just line up the shot, and count to three. If you make it to three you might chicken out and fail, or if you aren’t sure of aim you might panic since they keep breathing after the shot. Not to mention you leave a distinctive trace of who’s done it with the bullet. But guns left less room for regret and letting them live than knives or fists. It helped that he pulled the trigger on two, before his mind could catch up to what he was doing. By the time he was weighing whether or not he should do it, he was already checking to see if any blood was on him. Usually just his hands if he got close, but on occasion a drop or two would land elsewhere on him.

Shoes he filed the treads off left no recognizable prints as he would walk away.

The drive to the pay phone was silent beyond the low rattling of the engine. Shifting gears and parking the car was so automatic that if he was asked if he’d done it or not he genuinely wouldn’t know the answer. He took a few coins out of the cup holder and a note from where it was tucked into his front visor.

The air had the everpresent heat of summer, only cut through by a slight wind. He vaguely wondered if it was similar weather where Ford was. Sure Indiana was northeast of Arkansas, but it couldn’t account for that great of a change in weather. Especially since there would be enough plants to keep the heat in at night as opposed to if Ford was in the desert out West. Ford should have been in the desert out West, or at least just near it. He’d driven through the west coast once, it went from desert to a small bit of forest by the coast.

He slotted a coin into the phone and punched in the numbers written on the little sheet of paper. It rang for a few moments before someone answered with a tired ‘hello’. Made sense, it was probably around midnight.

“Is this S Higgins?” Stanley asked, staring up at the sky. The town was big enough that the lights faded some of the stars out. Probably for the best, Ford always liked the stars and it was best to not think about Ford when on the call with a client. His voice got too soft, and when your voice gets soft suddenly everything is up for negotiation.

“It is. I take it, you've done it?” The voice on the other end of the line replies. Always with euphemisms and never saying what they asked for. They wanted someone dead and now they’re dead, and he’s the only one that has to face it.

“Yup. You can check; Kelly on York street- dead center of Warren.” Stan says. He knows they won’t check, but it’s always best to give the information so there’s never any doubt he’s done it. It’ll be in the headlines anyways, Warren doesn’t seem like a place where a double homicide goes unreported on. A lovey dovey couple who just so happened to know a few details problematic to an ongoing political career.

“Is Ray’s in Monticello in three days good for you?” Came from the phone, crackly and disconnected. Three days, enough time for news and an investigation to start. Also enough time to plan out where to go next. There were certain people who talked, and it was through that grapevine his name got spread around. Or more accurately his license plate and car’s description did, it was not exactly inconspicuous, and with that ways to contact him. He just had to go wherever people who knew people that might want someone dead were. So pretty much anywhere, but he’d been thinking about seeing New Orleans so maybe he’d head there. And if nothing came up he was certain to find something in Mobile.

“Around lunch?” He asked. The least suspicious time of day. You could openly talk about his work at lunch and it would be taken as a joke. Because it’s the middle of the day and no actual plots could ever take place in the middle of the day.

“See you then.” The words came out and were quickly followed by a clack and silence. He set the phone up and made his way back to the Stanley-Mobile.

Monticello was less than twenty miles away. He could get there and get a motel room that night. But Warren was a small town and the newcomer disappearing the night of two murders would put the cops on his tail, so he swung around and headed back towards the motel he’d gotten a room at here.

The fact he didn’t immediately collapse meant he must have been running on adrenaline, and so rather than fight it for sleep he got his things packed. He’d sleep in and leave at a reasonable time in the morning before heading to Monticello. That seemed ideal.

———

Over the next couple days the only notable occurrences were the headlines about what he’d done, and him visiting the Allen House. From murder to the suicide house tourist trap. Way to go him!

Stanley had to admit though, while the ‘hauntedness’ of the Allen House left something to be desired he enjoyed the fun romp. He could do it better if he wanted to, but that would mean getting a house which would probably require legal documents that were left back in the apartment on top of a pawn shop in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Or he could do it illegally, which was much more likely, but at this point too much of a hassle when his current gig worked just fine.

Noon was approaching though so he turned on the Stanley-Mobile and headed towards Ray’s.

The diner was somewhat cosy despite having a metal back wall that looked like that of a storage container. Probably the warm lighting, benches, and soft music playing from a radio on the counter. He grabbed a table by a window, staring out of it to wait.

After a few dozen minutes of nothing he decided to go ahead and order some fries and a burger, making sure it wasn’t enough he could reasonably eat. He got a to-go bag after picking at them for what he deemed a good amount of time.

It was maybe another half hour or a bit longer when he watched a slightly too-clean Pacer roll up. A man who looked like he’d just been told what ‘casual’ meant last night stepped out and headed towards the diner. That was, without a doubt, Higgins then.

When he walked in the door Stanley waved him over, calling his name with a slight cheer as the man came over.

“You did… the job.” Higgins muttered, pulling a chair opposite Stanley’s spot on a padded bench and shuffling to sit down.

“I did. It’s on the news if you need to check.” Stanley said, leaning back slightly.

“I… I already saw the news. I have the money.” Higgins said, pausing to hum and haw before continuing, “Three thousand, right? Here, in cash.” Higgins said, reaching into a pocket on the inside of his clearly not weather appropriate jacket. And right. Stanley really should remember to get checks and not cash. Checks were easy to hide, especially since he went about being a contract killer in the dumbest way. Instead of just getting in with one group and staying there with a consistent pay and a good public facing business set up for him, he traveled around and essentially worked commission. Granted he got his start making enemies, so maybe staying in one place wasn’t the best. Especially when he could then work for just about anyone he deemed not an immediate risk, instead of just one organization. No matter what though, he should get better about checks instead of cash. Too late now though. Stanley held his palm out and felt a small stack of hundred dollar bills hit his hand, with no small amount of worry. He clutched the bills and tilted his palm down, hiding them from any quick glances.

Stanley dropped the bills into the to go bag as he reached in, and pulled out a small container with the fries.

“I have extra if you want.” He said, opening the lid and turning them towards Higgins. The man seemed to writhe in his chair, face morphing into a performance of guilt. He was certainly new to this. Higgins got up with a rushed apology and excuse of having to get back home. Stanley watched him go and placed the fries back in the bag. Well, to the bank then. He should deposit the cash slowly, he knows this, but he’s fairly certain that the new semester is starting m at Backupsmore which means Ford will need to be spending his money on textbooks. Which means Stanley is going to be extra sure to pay for his tuition.

Stanley’s pretty sure he caught an article about Ford and some other guy proving something or other about the universe, and a few more campus newspapers mentioning the two of them spending time together. So his brother finally made a friend! He’d drive up and hug the nerd out of pride if he weren’t certain Ford wouldn’t be too willing to speak to him. He did figure though, that he had enough saved for an emergency that what he’d usually cut out of his pay for à ‘just in case’ could go to Ford’s friend instead. A brief line of phone books and library visits, as well as word of mouth, made it clear that the guy was also the first of his family to go to college. And was riding on a couple scholarships in order to just cover tuition, but probably still had to take out a loan or two. He wasn’t going to risk Ford’s friend having to drop out and leave him alone due to finances.

The face of the bank teller was of mild confusion when he went to deposit five hundred dollars. Just because he wasn’t waiting to deposit the money didn’t mean he was an idiot. He was just going to spend the day hopping between a few banks to do it in chunks. Stil suspicious on paper but he has a current guise of being ‘an artist’ so sudden large deposits because he ‘sold a painting’ at least didn’t get too many questions.

At the end of it all he ended up sending one thousand five hundred to Ford’s annual tuition, so he should be set for a while longer. Though the idiot of a genius was taking twelve different full courses and each individual course has its own lesser tuition so it wasn’t the full semester it would have been if his brother knew how to stop. Frankly that had been the main reason he’d stepped in, Ford probably could have managed the tuition for one or even two or three courses on his own but somewhere in his mind he’d decided that taking twelve was a good idea. Stanley’s sure Ford could have figured it out, but that’s his brother and he didn’t want Ford to have to figure it out.

He sent seven hundred to Ford's friends’ tuition after some double checking names, and so the apparent Fiddleford McGucket had one less thing to worry about.

That meant he had eight thousand remaining, he wouldn’t have to take another job for a while. A long while. Maybe he just goes to New Orleans as a vacation.

~~~~~~

Ford and Fiddleford were staring at the Backupsmore administrator. They’d gone to check up on what they had to pay for tuition, only to find out that not only had Ford’s gotten a significant amount paid(which was becoming an odd yet consistent occurrence) but Fiddleford’s as well.

The money had been wired in, which meant whoever sent it had a known bank account, but had apparently mandated anonymity. As far as the school administrators were aware, it could have been the king of England sending the money.

The walk back to their dorm was shared in stunned silence. It wasn’t until Ford was sitting on his bed that Fiddleford stopped pacing and stared out the window before gripping his hair and yelling, in the whisper yell mandates by shared walls, cried out.

“WHAT in the world is GOIN’ ON.”

Fiddleford turned to Ford, lowering his hands to gesture in confused annoyance.

“Well, we know whoever is sending this must have a lot of money on hand. And we have been covering a lot of neuroscience, and specifically how to alter brains- right? It’s probably some larger entity with stakes in our current research.” Ford posed, though his voice still tilted with unsureness.

“True, but you started getting the payments before the whole tie thing. So there must have been some sort of investment before then.” Fiddleford argued. Ford shrugged.

“I mean, I suppose the sheer number of courses I was taking may have been noteworthy?” He offered.

Fiddleford began to pace muttering to himself, before an idea seemed to strike him.

“Hey, if we can get into the school records and figure out what bank the money has been being wired from, maybe we can call them and ask for information?” Fiddleford suggested. Ford took a moment to think through the idea, before grinning and jumping up.

“Exactly! Even if we can’t get a name, we’ll still get a rough area and we can go through phone books until we find someone who has a ridiculous amount of disposable cash and a vested interest in both of us!” He exclaimed.

They were probably going to have to break into an office or something, hopefully childhood shenanigans with… his childhood shenanigans would help with that.

Bro you need to publish this on ao3 or post it on tumblr or SOMETHING because HOLY SHIT?!??!?!

THIS is exactly what I was imagining for the Au!!! This is fuckkng great!!! I LOVE LOVE THIS AND YOU AND AAAAAAAA

I imagine Fiddleford doesn't really worry about the random money Ford gets until HE starts getting it too. Then yeah he's freaking out because WHAT THE HECK??

I love this you wrote this so well, so nice and omg??? You did research??? That's more than I'd ever do XD

[lowkeyrobin]

Hi, i was curious if you could do a fic where reader is the sister of thor and loki (loki is ofc apart of the VKs) and reader has something for both hades and hook. If that’s ok since marvel is apart of Disney, but they didn’t have to based off marvel.

okay I can definitely try although I don't write for Hades, but I will try! ; I also know nothing about Thor or Loki (not a big marvel fan) so I did some googling... also i couldnt really work loki in so were gonna pretend its an uliana-ursula situation im sorry ; also I do only write gn / they/them readers only so sorry ab that ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also this is lowkey awful I'm sorry writers block has been killing me and I'm prob going on a break soon :(

HOOK & HADES ; god

summary ; you, sibling of loki & thor, attend merlins academy. two of your friends are sadly becoming more than friends

warnings ; language

word count ; 1k

masterlist

"Don't think about it," you roll your eyes, sensing that Hades and Hook were behind you, planning something devious. "It's like you forget I'm telepathic," you speak, spinning on your heels to face them.

James, widely and awkwardly, smiles, Hades a blank expression on his face, holding his ember.

You slowly blink, awaiting an explanation.

"We weren't doing anything!" James quickly denounced.

"We were gonna scare you into teleporting away"

"Again"

You chuckle, spinning on your heels once more as they join you at your side. You rest your arms around their shoulders, a devious smirk on your face.

"Wanna play a game of Telepathy Telephone?"

"Oh, I do!"

"Yeah, sure"

The three of you sit at a metal outdoor table, Hades poking his fingers through the little holes. Hook spreads his hand out, pretending his hook was a knife -at least it's as sharp as one- as he taps it between the space of his fingers.

"Who wants to start?" You ask

"I do!"

"No, I want to. You went first last time"

"I'm Y/n's favorite"

"I'm literally a God. I'm they're favorite"

Never in a million years would you admit that you didn't have favorites because those two had you wrapped around their fingers. You'd be taking that to the grave.

"I rule the seas-"

"I rule the entire Underworld, James"

"Y/n, who's your favorite?"

"Dude, what's wrong?" You whisper to Hades, who sits next to you.

His eyes don't leave the person whom they're glued to as he mutters an answer back. "They were mocking you"

You furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

"They were mocking you" He repeats, raising his voice to normal as he speaks to them. "Hey, do you wanna say that to their face? Or no?"

The kids turn around, looking at you and Hades. He leans back in his chair casually, arms crossed, as you look confused beside him.

"Yeah. They're annoying. Maybe shut up sometime" one of them answers.

Hades flicks on his powers through his ember, his hair burning a bright blue flame, his eyes lightly glowing the same color. In his attempt to scare the kids, it kind of makes you stare at him for far too long.

Okay, that's kinda hot.

Even if you are the bullies, it was nice he was sticking up for you. It didn't bother you practically at all, as you could handle it yourself, but yeesh, this side of him was hot. You couldn't lie.

The kids turned back around, silencing themselves for the rest of the class, not wanting to be scorched to bits. He flicks his powers off, looking at you staring at him with hearts in your eyes.

"Whatcha looking at?"

You quickly look away, trying not to focus on the heat rising in your face. "Nothing," you mutter. "Thanks"

Hades rolls his eyes, knowing you found him attractive. It wasn't because of his ego, no, he'd known for months now. Though, he couldn't shake his head that someone else was in the equation as well.

"Uh, no-"

"Please. Just one date!"

You look around, trying to find a way out of this situation. You didn't want to go out with this random AK, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. You were bad at telling persistent people no.

Hook approaches, wrapping a hand around your waist. "Can I help you?" He speaks to the person.

"Who are you?" They question.

"Their boyfriend" He quickly answers, pulling you a little closer. He can feel your silent sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders quickly dissipating. Butterflies storm your stomach to replace those awful feelings though.

The kid looks between you and Hook before quickly scurrying away. He turns to you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"So..."

"Very persistent" you answer, rolling your eyes.

"I see" He nods, removing his hand from your waist, butterflies still swirling in your stomach. "You alright?"

"Mhm" You quickly answer, the feeling inside slowly dissolving as his hand was removed.

He sees the look on your face, taking it as you were uncomfortable after the interaction, maybe because of him.

"Would you want to go get ice cream with me?" He asks, wanting to make you feel better.

"Uhm, sure" you smile lightly, accepting the kind gesture, temporarily staring at him a little too long in a friendly way. Eugh, you seemed to do that with everyone now.

He holds his hand out for you, awaiting for you to take it so he can lead you away. You smile kindly, taking his hand.

"Think I may love you, James," you speak, knowing he'd only take it as platonic.

"Love you too"

You, Hades, and Hook were in the Black Lagoon, messing around and chilling out during the night. Uliana, Morgie, and Maleficent were God knows where, probably having a sleepover or prank calling people.

You sit on a shell-shaped couch, all sprawled out and comfortable.

"If you don't shut up-"

You use your magic to silence Hades, not wanting to listen to him ramble on and on even more. He slaps your shoulder, trying to yet you to un-silence him.

You and Hook giggle and laugh, and do even more as you shape-shift to look like the blue haired friend, mocking him. You return to your natural shape, allowing Hades to speak again.

"You're not funny" he grumbles

"If you say so" you levitate off the couch, lazily making your way over to a little box where you kept snacks. "You guys want anything?"

"Nah"

"I'm good"

You return to the couch with some snacks and drinks, continuing the conversation about random things. Hades eventually gets up to wait for the others to get here, as they'd contacted thay they'd actually be on their way.

That leaves you and Hook on the couch, awkwardly sitting around.

He eventually speaks up, a thought wracking his mind.

"Did you mean that I love you the other day in a romantic way?"

You quickly turn your head to look at him. You think about your answer for a moment before attempting to shoot your shot. "What if I did?"

"I'd kiss you" He quickly replies.

You blink for a moment, deciding to be upfront and honest before you get yourself stuck anywhere. "Okay, uh, to be honest, I'm into you and Hades. So, uhm.."

"Ew." He quickly speaks, but then corrects himself. "Not because you're into two people, I couldn't care less. But Hades?"

You stifle a laugh. "Hades"

He shrugs. "You do have awful taste"

"Are you roasting yourself?"

"No?!"

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 9

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The next morning, they had to sit next to each other.

me when i’m a high school junior and had a huge falling out with my best friend who i’m totally not in love with last night but we still have to coexist in ap english class

The joint thrones today were under a silk awning, raised to protect Laurent’s milkmaid skin from the sun.

BRUTAL

Lady Vannes murmuring into the ear of a new female pet

oooooh what happened to the old one? drama alert!!

A part of Damen acknowledged, a little guiltily, that Laurent probably hadn’t deserved to get thrown around the training arena as a result.

laurent would disagree

Nikandros said, without looking next to him, ‘Your uncle has wiped out half of our army with two hundred men.’ ‘And a belt,’ said Laurent.

nikandros private twitter vent #11. incoherent violent stick figure jpegs

Damen said, ‘At least someone else has a chance to win at javelin.’

i understand that people like sports and it’s a fun thing to add to a pretty serious story but i am the buzzkill here and ugh. sports

In the stands, slaves rhythmically raised and lowered fans and brought shallow cups of wine that everyone drank except Laurent.

me getting ginger beer at the bar yesterday while the dude i was with drank an espresso martini and two whiskeys

He came forward naked, as was the custom in Akielos.

i feel like violent dangerous sports are a really good occasion to wear MORE clothing, but go off i guess

The two men scooped oil from the receptacle brought to them by the stewards, anointed their bodies with it, then they slung their arms around one another’s shoulders, and, on the signal, heaved. The crowd cheered, the men grappled, their bodies straining against each other in slippery hold after slippery hold, until Pallas finally had Elon panting, on the grass, the sounds an eruption from the crowd.

this is like the not-evil twin of the veretian court wrestling

Damen rose from the throne, and put his hand to the gold brooch at his shoulder. His garment dropped and the crowd roared its approval.

you know, damen’s lack of freaking out about some of the indignities of the veretian court make more sense now

‘Good fight,’ he said, taking his place again on the throne beside Laurent. He waved over some wine. ‘What is it?’ ‘Nothing,’ said Laurent, and found somewhere else to put his eyes.

hang in there buddy

‘What can we expect next? I really feel,’ said Vannes, ‘it might be anything.’

i love the slight disdain here

‘Who did this to you?’ ‘I did,’ Laurent said. Damen turned. Laurent stood in the entryway of the tent. He was arranged with elegant grace and his lazy, blue-eyed attention was all on Nikandros. Laurent said, ‘I meant to kill him, but my uncle wouldn’t let me.’ Nikandros took an impotent step forward but Damen already had a restraining hand on his arm. Nikandros’s hand had gone to the hilt of his sword. His eyes were on Laurent furiously. Laurent said, ‘He sucked my cock too.’ Nikandros said, ‘Exalted, I beg permission to challenge the Prince of Vere to a duel of honour for the insult that he has done to you.’ ‘Denied,’ said Damen. ‘You see?’ said Laurent. ‘He has forgiven me for the small matter of the whip. I have forgiven him for the small matter of killing my brother. All praise the alliance.’ ‘You flayed the skin from his back.’ ‘Not personally. I just watched while I had my man do it.’ Laurent said it with a fronded, long-lashed gaze. Nikandros looked physically sick with the effort of repressing his anger. ‘How many lashes was it? Fifty? One hundred? He might have died!’ Laurent said, ‘Yes, that was the idea.’

LAMEN HR COMPLAINT #8

god i FUCKING love this little confrontation. i appreciate how we can start easing into some more comedy with these specific characters, because nobody here is like actively enslaved or abused. they’re all on even footing, so shots can be fired for fun, and can be read as such. the analysis here, in short, is that damen and laurent are both insane about each other and nikandros just has to deal with it. laurent thinks it’s amusing to mess with nikandros, and to a lesser degree damen. and damen tolerates it because he knows laurent behind his performative cruelty, but can’t possibly explain that to nikandros. regardless, laurent has immunity from damen, which means he also has immunity from nikandros.

this is also a good way to show how both damen and laurent have started “settling” the matters of damen killing auguste and laurent punishing him in vere, since the last scene where both subjects were heavily referenced.

Angry as he was, Nikandros wouldn’t disobey a direct order. His training was too deeply ingrained.

i like this subtle moment. damen grew up in the same culture, yet one of his main Things in this series has always been disobeying orders he disagrees with. built different!

‘Why would you do that? He’ll defect.’ ‘He’s not going to defect. He is your most loyal servant.’ ‘So you push him to breaking point?’ ‘Should I have told him I didn’t enjoy it?’ said Laurent. ‘But I did enjoy it. I liked it most near the end, when you broke down.’

laurent calculated and performative cruelty to protect himself from being vulnerable, you know the drill by now

‘You didn’t have to come here. You could have sent a messenger.’ In the pause that followed, Laurent’s gaze shifted involuntarily sideways. A strange prickling passing over his skin, Damen realised that Laurent was looking at the polished mirror behind him at the reflection of his scars. Their eyes met again. Laurent wasn’t often caught out, but a single glance had betrayed him. They both knew it. Damen felt the hard ache of it. ‘Admiring your handiwork?’

damen: i know you came here on purpose to spend time with me alone when you totally didn’t have to laurent: [very obviously checks out damen’s bare back, and not just for the symbolism reasons] damen: you want to look at me so bad (because you have an emotional attachment to the marks and you want to torture us both about it, and also because you think i’m hot. in both cases you’re the desperate one here, i win)

‘I’ll join you after I’ve dressed. Unless you want to step closer. You can help stick in the pin.’ ‘Do it yourself,’ said Laurent.

this sounds like their prince’s gambit-era antagonistic, vaguely horny, reluctantly fond banter. we’re getting somewhere!

The fever pitch of the crowd was bloodthirsty. The okton brought that out in them, the danger, the threat of maiming. The second of two targets was hammered onto its struts, and the attendants gave the all clear. In the heat of the day, anticipation was an insect buzz, rising to a commotion on the south-western side of the field.

this is such a fucking terrible idea you are in a WAR. damen you are going to be KING. why are you risking your life to play a sports right now. it would be like if the person about to cure a disease decided to play a game of bowling with a 80% survival rate right before they finished the vaccine

Damen heard the reaction of those around him. The Veretian Prince was, at a glance, Damen’s athletic inferior. Certainly, he avoided the training fields. No Akielon had ever seen him fight, or take exercise. He had not participated in any of today’s contests. He had done nothing more than sit, elegant and relaxed, as now. ‘Veretians do not train in the okton,’ said Damen. ‘In Akielos, the okton is known as the sport of kings,’ said Makedon. ‘Our own King will take the field. Does the Prince of Vere lack the courage to ride against him?’

makedon wants that twink obliterated

Damen waited for Laurent to sidestep, to evade, to find, somehow, the words to extricate himself from the situation. The flags fluttered loudly. The stands were silent, to a man. ‘Why not?’ said Laurent.

FSIUFHSDIUFHSDF i love laurent so much it’s unreal. this is the same response you’d give if a friend asked if you wanted to get takeout on a thursday night. “yeah, why not?” mr. “probably” laurent strikes again

Mounted, Damen faced the course, holding his horse ready at the starting line. His mount shifted, fractious, eager for the horn that would signal his start. Two horses down from his own, he could see Laurent’s bright head.

their horses who are canonically in love with each other get to do homoerotic sports too!!

But the true challenge of the okton was this: if you missed, your spear might kill your opponent. If your opponent missed, you were dead.

i was going to say “thankfully there are no real-life sports that sacrifice the physical well-being and possibly lives of eager-to-impress youths looking for glory and compensation” but then i remembered american college football exists

Laurent could also throw a spear. Probably.

probably.

But all of that meant nothing in the face of the okton. Men died during the okton. Men fell, men suffered permanent injury—from a spear; from hooves after a fall. Out of the corner of his eye, Damen could see the physicians, including Paschal, who waited on the sidelines, ready to patch and sew. There was a great deal at stake for the lives of the physicians, with royalty from two countries on the field. There was a great deal at stake for everyone.

not beating the american college football allegations

Damen could not aid Laurent in the contest.

he’ll kill one of his own people by throwing a sword across a clearing to save his captor in book 2, but he won’t use his kingly authority to say “hey guys maybe let’s not put both of the army’s leaders, one of whom is the love of my life and also my divorced husband, in the hunger games right now”

There was something intellectual in the way he assessed the field, and it set him apart from the other riders. For Laurent, physical pursuits were not instinctive, and for the first time it occurred to Damen to wonder if Laurent even enjoyed them. Laurent had been bookish as a boy, before he had re-formed himself.

“he should be at the (afterschool dungeons and dragons) club”

Laurent dealt with the danger of the okton by simply behaving as though it did not exist.

that tracks externally, but i also think that inside laurent’s brain he does acknowledge it, he just has a precise threshold of acceptable risk

Instinct reacted before thought. The spear was driving towards his chest; Damen caught it out of the air, his hand closing hard around the shaft, the momentum of it wrenching his shoulder back. He absorbed it, tightening his grip with his thighs to keep himself in the saddle.

this would be even more impressive if it was not the solution to a dangerous situation you ACTIVELY MADE HAPPEN

All his attention was on the other spear, flying towards Laurent. His heart jammed in his throat. On the other side of the course, Pallas was frozen. In that stricken moment of choice, Pallas could only decide whether to dodge and risk his cowardice killing a prince, or stand his ground and receive a spear to the throat. His fate was tied to Laurent’s, and unlike Damen, he had no recourse for what to do. Laurent knew it. Like Damen, Laurent had seen it early—had seen the strut collapse, had judged the outcome. In the handful of extra seconds that this afforded him, Laurent acted without hesitation. He released his reins—and as Damen watched, as the spear flew right for him—he jumped, not out of the way, but into the path of the spear, leaping from his horse to Pallas’s, dragging them both to the left. Pallas swayed, shocked, and Laurent bodily kept him down low in the saddle. The spear sailed past them and landed in the tufted grass like a javelin.

an akielion wouldn’t think to do THAT, would they!!

(also, love the little parallel to prince’s gambit, with damen ripping the grate out of the wall and laurent’s meticulous scheming. here it’s not as much a competition as it is a mutual/cooperative victory, with damen stopping the javelin mid-air and laurent intelligently evading the other one headed towards him)

The crowd went wild. Laurent ignored it. Laurent reached down and neatly filched Pallas’s last spear for himself. And, keeping Pallas’s horse at a gallop—as the sounds of the crowd swelled to a crescendo—he threw it, sending it flying right into the centre of the final target. Completing the okton one spear ahead of Pallas and of Damen, Laurent drew his horse up in a little circle, and met Damen’s gaze, his pale brows rising, as if to say, ‘Well?’ Damen grinned. He hefted the spear he had caught, and from where he was on the far side of the course, threw; let it go sailing over the full, impossible length of the field, to thunk into the target alongside Laurent’s spear, where it rested, quivering. Pandemonium.

they are both That Bitch. perfect for each other, and now everyone knows it (kinda) <3

After, they crowned each other with laurels.

cute

There was a warmth in his chest whenever he looked at Laurent. He didn’t look often for that reason.

Their men would ride out unified, and if there was a crack down the centre, no one knew about it. He and Laurent were good at pretending.

no they’re not. they’re just becoming more entertaining and endearing than annoying and frustrating, so people are more likely to listen to them

Laurent took his place on one of the lounging couches like he was born to it. Damen sat alongside him.

and all was right with the universe

The whole room went silent. Makedon and Laurent faced one another. The silence stretched out. ‘You have the mind of a snake,’ Makedon said. ‘You have the mind of an old bull,’ said Laurent. They stared at one another. After a long moment, Makedon waved at the slave, who came forward with a fat-bellied bottle of Akielon spirits and two shallow cups. ‘I will drink with you,’ said Makedon.

i love this unlikely friendship. laurent is being socialized like a feral kitten

Laurent glanced at the wine that the slave had poured, and Damen knew with absolute certainty that if it was wine, Laurent wasn’t going to drink. Damen braced himself for the moment when every scrap of goodwill that Laurent had garnered for himself was thrown away—as every tenet of Akielon hospitality was insulted, and Makedon swept forever out of the hall. Laurent picked up the cup in front of him, drained it, then returned it to the table. Makedon gave a slow nod of approval, lifted his own cup, downed it. And said, ‘Again.’

extremely loud airhorn goes off SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

Later, when a great many overturned cups scattered the low table, Makedon leaned forward and told Laurent he must try griva, the drink from his own region, and Laurent downed it and said it tasted like swill, and Makedon said, ‘Ha, ha, true!’ Later, Makedon told the story of his first games, when Ephagin won the okton, and the bannermen grew misty-eyed, and everyone had another drink. Later, everyone roared when Laurent was able to balance three empty cups on top of each other, while Makedon’s cups fell over.

is this just what frat parties are like?

Laurent maintained a scrupulous posture until they were all gone, his eyes dilated, his cheeks slightly flushed. Damen spread his arm over the back of his own seat and waited. After a long moment, Laurent said, ‘I’m going to need some help standing up.’

i love that damen just Waited. he knew. he wanted laurent to admit it. they’re so funny

He wasn’t expecting to receive Laurent’s full weight, but he did, a warm arm slung around his neck, and he was suddenly breathless with the feeling of Laurent in his arms. His hands came up to steady Laurent’s waist, his heart behaving strangely. It was sweetly, impossibly illicit. He felt the ache in his chest. Damen said, ‘The Prince and I are retiring,’ and waved the lingering slaves out. ‘It’s this way,’ said Laurent. ‘Probably.’

‘Is today the first time you’ve been beaten in an okton?’ ‘Technically, it was a draw,’ said Damen. ‘Technically. I told you I was quite good at riding. I used to beat Auguste all the time when we raced at Chastillon. It took me until I was nine to realise he was letting me win. I just thought I had a very fast pony. You’re smiling.’ He was smiling.

drunk laurent happily telling damen about auguste :’) also the “you’re smiling” is so adorable, i love how we’re getting some dorky soft laurent finally. he contains multitudes. this, like, “suddenly aware that he’s being cute and appreciated for it, slightly indignant but also allowing it because it’s damen who thinks he’s cute” thing is wonderful and tbh i hope i can someday allow myself to be like that too :)

‘Am I talking too much? I can’t hold alcohol at all.’ ‘I can see that.’ ‘It’s my fault. I never drink. I should have realised I’d need to, with men like these, and made an effort to . . . build up some sort of tolerance . . .’ He was serious. ‘Is that how your mind works?’ said Damen. ‘And what do you mean, you never drink?

drunk laurent is so funny. and i love how damen is amused, endeared, and absolutely fascinated by the inner workings of this man. me too.

also, it's insane that laurent would ever ask if he's talking too much. taking too much is like his entire thing

side note: this is 100% how i am when i use any kind of mind-altering substances, like a sedative before a root canal. i remember detailing how i felt in my notes app at the time and then reading it later and being both impressed by the determination to remain incoherent and amused by the inserted notes of “why am i laughing” “why is everything funny”

You were drunk the first night I met you.’ ‘I made an exception,’ said Laurent, ‘that night. Two and a half bottles. I had to force myself to get it down. I thought it would be easier drunk.’ ‘You thought what would be easier?’ said Damen. ‘“What”?’ said Laurent. ‘You.’ Damen felt the hairs rise over his whole body. Laurent said it softly, and as though it was obvious, his blue eyes a little hazy, his arm still around Damen’s neck. They were gazing at one another, halted in the half-light of the passage. ‘My Akielon bed slave,’ said Laurent, ‘named for the man who killed my brother.’

“no shit, i got drunk”

It wasn’t unusual for two young men to wander the halls together, swaying, after a revel—even among princes—and Damen could pretend for a moment that they were what they seemed to be: brothers in arms. Friends.

you guys got publicly married-divorced and laurent told an entire army that you fucked each other multiple times. you wear matching arm cuffs. even your horses are in love. be so serious rn

The guards on either side of the entrance were too well trained to react to the presence of royalty leaning all over each other.

They Pretend They Do Not See It (not an HR complain bc they’re not really bothering anyone or breaking rules)

‘No one is to enter,’ Damen ordered the guards. He was aware of the implication—Damianos entering a bedchamber with a young man in his arms and ordering everyone out—and he ignored it. If Isander suddenly had a startling reason why the frigid Prince of Vere had foregone his services, so be it.

oh nooooo what a shame if isander backed off from your man, what an unintended and unfortunate consequence, oh nooooooo

Laurent, intensely private, would not want his household present while he dealt with the effects of a night’s worth of drinking.

just got a vision of laurent as heather chandler in the hangover/death scene. wearing that cunty little robe and talking shit

Laurent was going to wake with a blinding headache fuelling his corrosive tongue, and pity anyone who ran into him then. As for Damen, he was going to give Laurent a push in the small of his back and send him staggering the four steps to the bed. Damen unlooped Laurent’s arm from his neck, disengaged himself. Laurent took a step under his own power, and lifted a hand to his jacket, blinking. ‘Attend me,’ Laurent said, unthinkingly. ‘For old time’s sake?’ said Damen. It was a mistake to say that. He stepped forward and put his hands on the ties of Laurent’s jacket. He began to draw the ties from their moorings. He felt the curve of Laurent’s ribcage as the tie threaded through its eye. The jacket tangled at Laurent’s wrist. It took some effort to get it off, disordering Laurent’s shirt. Damen stopped, his hands still inside the jacket.

:)

Under the fine fabric of Laurent’s shirt, Paschal had bound Laurent’s shoulder to strengthen it. He saw it with a pang. It was something Laurent would not have let him see sober, a keen breach of privacy. He thought of sixteen spears thrown, with a constant effort of arm and shoulder, after rough exertion the day before.

fuck, that’s right. damn laurent

Damen took a step back, said: ‘Now you can say you were served by the King of Akielos.’ ‘I could say that anyway.’

he may be white girl wasted but he’s still our laurent

Lamp-lit, the room was filled with orange light, revealing its simple furnishings, the low chairs, the wall table with its bowl of fresh-picked fruit.

this time, the fruit basket guy just showed the kitchen staff a bunch of ao3 fics tagged “in vino veritas” and told them to make it work

Laurent was a different presence in his white undershirt.

makes him sound like a cryptid. blonde man jumpscare

They were gazing at each other.

we know.

‘I miss you,’ said Laurent. ‘I miss our conversations.’

he would not have admitted this under torture

(also, i really like how he misses their conversations first and foremost. laurent really does love damen for his mind and heart, more than anything else. damen is the same, but he's a lot more vocally into the other parts of laurent too)

It was too much. He remembered being strapped to the post and half killed; sober, Laurent had made the line very clear, and he was aware that he had crossed it, they both had.

damen is still afraid to potentially take advantage of laurent, especially because of what happened the first time laurent interpreted his advances in such a light (ow)

‘You’re drunk,’ said Damen. ‘You’re not yourself.’ He said, ‘I should take you to bed.’ ‘Then, take me,’ said Laurent.

Laurent lay where Damen put him, on his back in a half-open shirt, his hair tumbled, his expression unguarded. His knee was pushed out to the side, his breathing was slow as one in sleep, the thin fabric of his shirt lay against his skin, rising and falling with it. ‘You don’t like me like this?’

first thing, good for him. second thing, not good for him, because trauma, and the fact that he sees himself as a sexual object (i went a lot more into this during the chapter 7 re-analysis)

‘You’re really . . . not yourself.’ ‘Aren’t I?’

i do think damen means this as a “you could punish me for taking advantage,” but i also think there is the fact that damen doesn’t want a version of laurent who isn’t in his right mind (like slaves, who aren’t given the ability to have minds of their own). this calls back to the whole “you like it simple” thing in chapter 7, and it’s pretty satisfying to see damen prove laurent wrong!

‘I tried to kill you. I can’t seem to go through with it. You keep overturning all my plans.’

said with hearts in his eyes <3

Damen found a water pitcher and poured water into a shallow cup that he brought to the low table by Laurent’s bed. Then he emptied the fruit bowl of fruit and put it on the floor alongside, to be used as a drunk soldier might use an empty helmet.

THEY WORKED HARD ON THAT THEMATICALLY RELEVANT FRUIT BASKET >:( although perhaps this is its true thematic relevance? a means of damen helping laurent care for himself in recovery?

‘Laurent. Sleep it off. In the morning, you can punish us both. Or forget this ever happened. Or pretend to.’ He did all of this quite adeptly,

at least he’s getting more self-aware about his own blind spots, or at least his ability to have them

Laurent, falling through scattered thoughts into sleep, said, ‘Yes, uncle.’

i think this line honestly might have been a step too far. not necessarily because it’s a bad thing for laurent to say, i get that it makes sense for him to associate this kind of vulnerability with [redacted], and it’s even possible that laurent doesn’t drink now because the regent got him drunk before he [redacted].

why i think it miiiiiiight not work, is the fact that damen doesn’t oh fuck wait i JUST made note of a line where damen acknowledges how he can “quite adeptly” ignore things, literally a few sentences ago. i can’t even say he would have noticed, or made note of it, because that is his character. and the irony is like right there on the page. it’s frustrating to read, but it’s an intentional choice. well played as usual!

[sanguinarysanguinity]

You know, I don't remember if I've ever gotten the director's commentary on Holocene Park? Give me the director's commentary on Holocene Park!

Holocene Park! That's a blast from the past! Do I remember anything about writing Holocene Park?

Some random things:

Holocene Park was inspired by the dinosaur Asylum Dinosaur Holmes film. While that film is a wild nonsensical ride that introduces kraken and dinosaurs into the Holmes universe, it also manages to be boring for great swathes of time. Also, there is barely any dinosaur in it! And I thought, I can do better than that.

All that mad-science stuff about how to genetically revert a chicken to a dinosaur? Was actual science that researchers were playing with at the time. The year after I published that story, there were some breakthroughs of genetically engineering chickens with dinosaur jaws or dinosaur legs. Google Jack Horner's Build a Dinosaur Project for more deets.

I wrote this during an era when I didn't have a good method for naming OCs, so I just lifted all the names from the ACD canon story, "The Creeping Man." I regret that now, as this story bears no meaningful relationship to "The Creeping Man", and there is zero thought into how I assigned names. (Don't try to pry meaning out of how I assigned the names; there isn't any.) The reason I went to "The Creeping Man" is because this story was a gift for @language-escapes, who loves dinosaurs and hates "The Creeping Man," and I'm an asshole.

(Later on I DID have Elementary x Creeping Man feelings, and wrote "Every Creeping Thing." Please see that if you want to see a proper Elementary take on "The Creeping Man".)

Some additional names are taken from Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World, which was his own ridonkulous dinosaur adventure story. Again, there's no rhyme nor reason to how I lifted the names. Again, I view this as an artistic failure.

That whole bit in the first and second chapter when they're running around by headlamp underground, trying to escape a giant killer ostritch-dinosaur? Was inspired by my sense-memories of a day spent mucking around by headlamp in Ape Cave on Mt. St. Helens. (For good or for ill, we did not encounter any dinosaurs in Ape Cave.) (Nor did we encounter any non-human apes.)

I think this was my first foray into case-fic? That said, it's more of a an adventure story than a sleuthing story: there's not much here in the way of clues, deductions, red herrings, or the like. Just lots of running and screaming and hitting monsters with sticks.

I had a whole little sideline going for a while there of writing as-shippy-as-fuck gen for Holmes and Watson pairs, and this absolutely is a major entry in that sideline. How shippy could I make it without making it romantic? Can I make it even shippier than that??

Swans. I haven't had a LOT of experience of swans (mostly just the one that bit me when I climbed over the fence at the zoo to pet it -- in my defense, I was a ridiculously tender age.) But we had geese when I was a kid, and my brother and I had whole summers that we couldn't leave the house without a weapon because the geese would menace us so fierce.

One of my co-workers knew guys from the local bomb disposal squad. We've seen them handle explosive materials. It was not possible for someone to have less respect for a potential bomb than they did.

I established my "first half of the chapter from Joan's point of view, second half the chapter from Sherlock's" structure on a whim, but it served me very well. Especially when Joan got attacked by the swan. We all knew that I wasn't going to kill Joan, so it didn't make much sense for that to be a chapter cliffhanger. But to have it work out to be a pov switch cliffhanger was a marvelous piece of luck.

I had so FUCKING much fun writing those killer swans. So much fun. I kinda want killer swanosaurs of my own for pets. Surely they'd let ME pet them, yes?

I was GONNA have all the dinosaurs (but Presbury) die during the course of the story. But readers rose up in comments and demanded that I save them. So I rewrote the ending to send the ostrichosaurs to a dinosaur-sanctuary and get them the best medical care possible. While I was at it, I saved all the chickenosaurs, too.

The Gladys thing is lifted straight from the Dinosaur Holmes movie. iirc (and it's been ten years since I watched it), during the big villain monologue, it turns out Sherlock's name is not Sherlock, but some other perfectly normal thing. Which struck us as hilariously random, and I had to include that beat. But instead of leaving it as a random wtf (like the Asylum movie did), I built it into Joan's history as a domestic violence survivor.

For all that the main story is off-the-wall bonkers, I have some real and earnest feelings about domestic violence tucked away in there. This is pretty typical for me: crack in perfect earnest is one of my specialties.

Word of God: Presbury is gonna get up to SO MUCH screamingly loud cockatoo-mischief hereafter. And Joan and Sherlock will give him everything his little dinosaury heart desires.

[i-like-turkey]

I saw your Bluesky account was no longer active. I had also noticed you hadn’t posted since thanksgiving. I hope you’re ok and Pupperoni is also doing ok. Holidays can be brutal. Please know you are valued. And you are important.

Thanks for checking in on me!

Short answer: My pup is doing great. I’m not. But I’m alive and fully intend to stay that way.

Long answer: 2024 is officially in the running for the worst year of my life. It started with two massive losses in February and then another one in early May. I dealt with my dog grief by going out and getting a puppy. She is the only reason I got through those early days cause instead of not sleeping cause I’m bawling my eyes out, I was not sleeping cause I was getting up multiple times to take her potty. And then during the day I was too busy chasing her around to feel much of anything.

But then May hit and her behavior started changing. Instead of my biggest worries being a noise complaint cause she’d bark herself to sleep in her crate, it was can I get her out of my apartment without her biting my arms down to the bone and ripping my clothes to shreds and accidentally strangling me with the strap to her treat bag?

So this last summer was fucking hell. I tweeted a bit about it, but y’all don’t know half the story. Imagine being ten minutes from your car and your dog is so scared that she’s lost her fucking mind and the only thing she can do at that moment is attack YOU. She doesn’t care about sticks or treats or sniffing grass or anything else. All she wants is to bite YOU. And now you've gotta figure out how to get her back to your car without losing a finger or having someone call animal services on you.

I was bleeding daily and sleeping maybe 3-4 hours a night even though my pup was finally sleeping through the night cause I was stressed and cause was on a mission for answers. I was constantly Googling dog training and behavior and getting tips and seeing horror stories about dogs that had to get put down because they were acting like my pup. And that thought was killing me cause I couldn’t fathom losing another dog so soon after I said goodbye to my first baby.

So I wasn’t myself this summer. I was quick to anger and couldn’t think rationally and more stressed out than I’d ever been at any point in my life, law school included. Those days are now just a blur of horribleness and I’m glad that we got my pup’s medication figured out and that we're through them.

But getting through them has brought clarity and time and the mental state to actually deal with my grief and process all of the other things that I’ve lost throughout the year. I used the analogy for grief last chapter of a semi-truck of elephants strapped to Kate’s back. That’s appropriate for me here especially in December, but Kate’s swiss cheese analogy actually fits my situation better. I’m full of holes. I’ve lost big, massive chunks of my life and they aren’t coming back and there's no replacement for them. I’m empty and I’m lonely and I need to get my shit together because I can’t keep going on like this.

And that means I need to leave fandom. I’ve tried to put on a brave face and pretend that everything is ok, but I can’t do that anymore. Opening social media is just a reminder of the past and what’s gone and what’s not coming back and how sad and lonely I am. So it’s time to go. I deactivated bluesky. I haven’t opened IG in ages. Idk what I’m gonna do about it yet. I’ll figure it out. I might delete or I just might let it be a zombie account. My twitter accounts can live on as zombies. I will keep tumblr because it predated my participation in the Kacy fandom, but I don’t think I will be around much. I need to focus my scant free hours on cultivating real life connections.

[blooming-violets]

Shit I forgot to put this in my rb but I wanted to ask what do you think would happen to reader if Peter actually went through with it? I'd like to be a but optimistic and say she surely but slowly recovers from it all but I'm not so sure. How would Aunt May react to that? Becoming a widow then a grieving mother in the span of a few years? Sorry I don't mean to be pushy but like I said I loved the way you beautifully crafted this story from an ask

Trigger Warnings!!!!: it's all about suicide and talking about it and discussing it, it is not something everyone feels comfortable reading or conversing about so please don't continue if it is too upsetting for you, Peter Parker kills himself and I write about it, Gwen's death ptsd is explored and he sees her as a rotting corpse version of herself who talks to him before he dies, the grief of losing someone you love to suicide is also talked about, it's all depressing but if you love depressing angst shit then come on over and join in (not join in on the killing yourself part jfc I mean joining in on the talking about this story) READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION only you know what you are capable of handling when you read. I can't help you any further than explaining the warnings.

Previous posts where this is all discussed:

[first part] [second part] and I rewrite this drabble from two years ago to fit this story but you can read the original here if you feel like it (it ends with less death that this one).

One of my darker, more angsty headcanons is that Peter kills himself by throwing himself off the same clock tower Gwen died in. It takes a few years for it to get rebuilt back to it's former glory. Peter patiently waits those years until it's finally finished. Almost a quiet, stoic sort of patience. A little scary with how composed he is. Like not given any indication of his plans. He wears a beautifully composed mask until the day it happens because he is so sure in his plans and doesn't want a single person to sway him from them. He's stubborn and set in his ways and this is what he feels he needs to do. This headcanon doesn't exactly fit into the story I wrote as that version of Peter is much more unhinged in his actions, and I don't think clocktower Peter could ever let himself get into a relationship because he's too obsessed with Gwen still and knows he's going to die so he's not going to bring anyone else into that mess, but it's just a little random headcanon I always had so I thought I would share since this is suicide talking hour. Maybe I can rework it a bit to fit with this story better.

Let's say unhinged Peter (as I'm calling him now lol) does let the ghosts win. What happens to our Reader character would entirely depend on when in the relationship he went through with it. If she's too far gone and too far down the hole after Peter, then I sort of fear for her future. Unless she has someone really important in her life who would help her, I think she would just keep sinking until she ended up back on that ledge, except this time there's no Peter to catch her. And I personally don't think she has anyone that close to her, especially after mentioning that all her friends stopped texting her or asking her to hang out. They all kind of gave up on her so, when she's at her lowest, I really don't think anyone would be the wiser due to the isolation they both put themselves in.

I want to rewrite something I wrote two years ago that either wasn't that great and people didn't like or it just slipped under the radar (because it wasn't about an x reader or love or anything, it was just Peter's ptsd taking over and sometimes people don't give a shit about a fic if it isn't tagged with x reader). It fits really well in this new story to help show what could go on in Peter's head with how terribly Gwen still sticks with him and what exactly it is he's "seeing" that would push him to throwing himself off a building.

Cut to me pausing to frantically google if Peter Parker could survive a fall off a building or if his super powers make him strong enough to withstand it...

Okay maybe falling isn't the best plan of action but I really like (like isn't the right word but I'm going with it) that idea of him mimicking Gwen's death because he's so haunted by it. He would want to feel what she felt. He would want to go the same way. So for the sake of this story, he's can't withstand that fall.

“Leave me alone!” Peter shouted into the dark shadows of the clock tower. He sat huddled against the newly built glass wall that domed up over his head. The bright, white light of the moon hung in the sky above him and casted wavering shadows around him to mess with his vision. The turning of grinding gears below him haunted his memories of the night Gwen died. Eight years and she still haunted him every time he dared to fall asleep.

He couldn't take it anymore. His head was a mess. His thoughts were spinning.

He was just so tired.

He had fallen asleep here accidentally. Maybe if he went to the source of the problem, she would disappear. It was a stupid plan

It only made her stronger. This was where his ghost of her was most alive.

Maybe that's why he really showed up. He wanted to see her. He wanted to finally confront his demons. She was calling to him and he had to answer.

He had slipped a crushed up sleeping pill into his girlfriends water during dinner. He carried her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her soft and gently. She didn't need to see this. This wasn't for her. She needed to be free of him. He needed to let her go before it was too late. She wouldn't understand at first but, maybe, with time...

What had time ever done for him except make Gwen stronger?

He slipped an envelope onto the bedside table beside her. One for her. One for May. He wasn't sure if he would make it home this time. His mind could still change. He could still make it back before she woke up.

But they were.

Just in case.

He couldn't leave them with nothing.

She was here now. Ready to haunt him like usual. Ready to take over and ruin him. Night after night. Day after day. She was always there. Gwen never left. She walked beside him through it all.

Tonight, she was angry. Furious. This was where he had let her die. Of course, she would be the most powerful here.

He no longer had his girlfriend to help soften Gwen's blows. There was no one to intervene. Only him and Gwen. Stuck in a staring contest. Sizing each other up.

The sunken in face of his dead lover glared back at him from just below his edge of his of his perch, trembling from the sight under him. She was standing on top of a giant gear, watching him, judging him. A large smile grew across her pale, bluing lips. It was too wide. Too big for her face. Her teeth looked rotten and jagged inside of her mouth. A trickle of blood slowly trailed out of her nostril.

“What’s the matter, Peter?” She taunted. Her sickly voice swirled around his head like a swarm of mosquitos. “Did you miss me? Is that why you came here? To see me clearly again? Well, here I am. Look at me. Dead. Putrefied. All for you. Aren't I beautiful? This is what you've done to me.”

A loud sob shuddered through his chest and ripped out his throat. He brought up a hand to wipe away the snot flowing freely out his nose. This nightmare was too familiar. He knew this too well. He didn't feel like he was dreaming this time. He never did.

If it wasn't a dream then his mind was truly gone. Distinguishing between reality and fiction was something he no longer had control over.

This was as real to him as anything.

“Please, Gwen. Please,” he pleaded with her. “Go away. I can’t do this again. Please. You have to let me go."

She tutted her tongue in annoyance and shook her head with disbelief, “Oh, Peter. I have to let you go? Do you think I want to be here?” She became climbing up the gears and the scaffolding towards him. She looked more like himself as she climbed, enhanced and spider-like, taking the movements straight out his brain until she was perching on the ledge beside him. “Do you think this fun for me?”

Peter whimpered in response. His tears were blurring his vision but he was afraid to wipe them away. He was terrified of what might happen if he took his eyes off of her, like watching a snake in the grass, it's better if you can see it in your sights instead of letting it hide and able to strike.

Gwen walked with slow, purposeful steps towards him until she stood directly over him as he cowered backwards on all fours. Under the pale moonlight hanging above them, her skin turned yellow, painted with purpling hues and blacks, and rotting away around her cheekbones to show parts of red, bleeding muscle under the pulled back skin. Her, once vibrant, blonde hair now hung in patchy strands from her head. Most of her hair had fallen out leaving her balding and sickly. When she smiled, browning, broken teeth shone back at him, they hung lose in her jaw, rattling around when she spoke.

She was a walking, decaying corpse sent to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

“Look at what you’ve done to me!” Her shrill voice echoed off the glass walls. She spun around to show him the back of her head. Her skull was caved in. Parts of brain matter clung to her hair and blood stained what was left of the blonde a deep red. She turned back to face him, leaning in close so she was mere inches away. He could smell the heavy scent of freshly dug dirt and wet grass clinging to her rotting finger nails like she had clawed her way straight out of the ground to find him.

She snarled, “You did this, Peter! This is your fault!”

Peter flinched and scrambled backwards to get away from her, “No! Please, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn't know...I didn't know...I thought I could catch you. I thought I could save you. I'm sorry. Please, Gwen. Please. I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I’m dead,” she smirked, eyes darkening, enjoying his torment. She sunk down to her hands and knees to crawl over him, pressing her skeletal body against him, until he was laying flat against the ground with no where else to go.

"Look at me," she whispered into his ear. “I was going to go Oxford. I was going to be a scientist. I was going to change the world. The only way I can change the world now is by letting the worms feast through my flesh until there is nothing left. Something tasty for the bugs. That's all I am now.”

Peter whimpered, turning his head away from her and flinching into himself.

He heard her sniffle like she was about to start crying. He hated hearing her cry.

"Don't you love me anymore, Peter?" She whined. "Don't you care about me? Why did you find someone else? Why did you forget me so quickly? I loved you so much and you left me for the worms. Only they kiss my skin now."

His heart sank and guilt flooded him. Slowly, he turned his head to face her, blinking up at her. For a moment, she looked just like he remembered. Beautiful. Whole. Healthy. Alive.

Peter gave a shuddered, shaky breath, whispering in awe, "Gwen."

She beamed down at him. There were no rotting teeth, no blood, her hair was full and luscious. She was glowing under golden light with happy tears in her eyes like his memory of her on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips. "Like you used to."

Peter's eyes slipped close. His heart ached.

"I can't," he mumbled back. "I love someone else now. I love her like I loved you. She..."

He needed to get back to her. She needed him. He needed her. He should have never left her tonight. He had to leave.

A wailing growl shot ice through his veins as Gwen let out a shriek of pain as if she had read his mind. She was back to her decaying corpse. The sight terrified him.

"You will not leave me! I won't let you! You're mine, Peter! Mine!"

Peter kicked up his feet to shove her off of him. He scrambled backwards away from the haunting vision.

"I can't, Gwen," he pleaded. "I can't be with you anymore."

He frantically shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, in an attempt to make her disappear. Usually by now, his girlfriend would hear him screaming. She'd be here to block Gwen from his sights. She'd be there to force her away until he was safe.

Tonight, there was no one but him.

"This isn't real," he muttered to himself. "She's not really here. She's dead. She's buried underground. Locked in a coffin. This isn't real. When I open my eyes, she'll be gone."

He peaked an eye open. A sense of relief washed over him. He was alone in the clock tower. There was no one here but him.

He could still go home. He could still make it back to her before she woke up and rid her bed side of those letters.

She would never have to know.

Peter took a deep breath, half way through exhaling it when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Gwen's decomposing face poked into his peripheral vision as she whispered menacingly in his ear, "Boo."

He screamed, jumping away, to the sound of her taunting laughter.

"I'm still here, Peter!" She cackled. "You can't get rid of me that easily! I am always going to be here. I am always going to follow you. I will never let you go." Her voice softened. Almost sweet. Sad. Longing. "Because I'm your path, Peter. I am always going to be your path. Follow me everywhere just like you promised. I want you to follow me. I need you..."

She reached out her hand for him to take. The skin had rotted away around the tips of her fingers leaving nothing by bones reaching for him.

This wasn't his Gwen. His Gwen was dead. She was buried in the ground surrounded by fresh flowers. The thing in front of him was nothing but a product of his own twisted mind. Birthed from his guilt and excruciating pain. A monster of his own creation.

"I can't," he choked out through his tears. "Someone else needs me now. I'm sorry. I love you. I will always love you. But I can't follow you. Not yet."

Anger flashed over her darkened, bloodshot eyes, “No! You promised you’d follow me anywhere. Follow me to the grave, you liar!”

Peter cringed at her harsh words. Tears blurring his vision. He had promised.

"Gwen, please," he begged. "Let me go."

Her face softened. He watched her grow back into old self again. Her rich purple dress. Lace tights. Knee high boots. Pale blue jacket. All highlighting her perfectly beautiful face. Large, bright green eyes without a blonde hair out of place. Always so put together. Always nothing less than perfection.

"You want me to go?" She asked, turning around slowly for her to take him in. There was no crack in the back of her skull. No blood.

His breath caught in his throat. He tried to reach out for her, to draw her closer against him, but she stepped away. Just out of his reach.

"You want me to go so I'll go." She whispered. "But you'll have to watch. Again and again and again. You'll have to listen to the sound of my skull cracking against the pavement. Hear my spine snap as your web jerks me upwards. Smell my blood pouring from my open, split open head." A trickle of red blood started to leak out her nose as her eyes closed. "Only you can make it all stop. Only you can make me go away. You know exactly how to do it, Peter. All you have to do is follow me. Just like you promised. Follow me and it will all end."

He blinked through his tears, taking a slow step towards her.

"Follow you," he muttered in a trance like state. "I'll follow you anywhere you go. You're my path. I'll write my love for you across the Brooklyn Bridge so everyone in New York can see it."

She smiled, soft and sweet, "Follow me. Don't leave me alone. Stay with me, Peter. Forever."

"Forever..."

Her arms out stretched to her sides and she leaned back, stepping off the ledge and sinking out of sight past the giant gears, hurdling straight towards her death.

"No!" He shouted.

Without thinking, without caring, Peter leapt after her. He had done this move so many times in his nightmares. He had obsessively walked through every single second of her death. Again and again just like she said. He knew it better than he knew himself.

He jumped on instinct. He leapt after her like he always did.

Keeping his promise. Following her down any path she took.

I know you asked how May and Reader would respond to such a thing afterwards but that's like one topic that's just a little too hard for me to write about. I know it's weird that I can talk about Peter throwing himself to his death and I can write about depression and suicidal ideation and self harm and ptsd and guilt and feelings of worthlessness but writing about someone like May (who I relate far too much to my own mother) finding her boy dead is just a hair too much for my heart to take haha. I was originally going to write a scene of his funeral but then I was like nah too much for even me. I can't watch May cry over her dead kid.

I will say that he would be buried next to his parents under the same gravestone which sits besides Ben's. It's a few rows down from Gwen so Peter can always be near her.

I don't even think I actually answered your original ask but I got carried away with Peter in the clock tower!

Also May puts matching flowers on both Peter's and Gwen's graves every time she visits. hahahaha i gotta stop writing fuck me

[inukag]

see the misunderstanding that's happening on inutt right now is exactly why i barely mention kikyo. ur tweet was innofensive enough and stated nothing but facts yet people got so defensive. it's like she got so hated back in the day that now people try to compensate by putting her above any valid criticism

To be fair I didn't phrase my first tweet properly, I wanted to say "Kikyo would have gotten Inuyasha killed" (by telling him to use the jewel) but it didn't fit the character limit so I had to shorten it. Because I said "Kikyo would have killed Inuyasha" people thought I meant "Kikyo was actively trying to murder Inuyasha" (when she was alive) which is clearly not what I was trying to say LMAO In my mind (and according to google) "killing someone" means "causing someone's death", it doesn't have to be voluntary.

(the context for people who don't follow me on twitter)

Like you said anon yes a lot of the criticism of Kikyo from casual fans (like on OP's original tweet) is not actually valid ("she was in the way of inukag!!" "she should have just stayed dead!" "she was racist!") so I was trying to add what I think is valid criticism of Kikyo: that she's over confident in her plans and ends up being irresponsible and hurting others as a result.

We SEE what happens to a half-demon (Naraku) when he makes an incorrect wish on the jewel. The jewel manipulates him and makes him wish for something else and he ends up being absorbed so that his soul can battle for all eternity. This is what would have happened to Inuyasha when he would have tried to make the wish to be human.

And then people try to defend Kikyo by saying "well she didn't know what would happen", "she thought she was right" and that's precisely my point. She's a highly respected miko and she guards the jewel. Inuyasha is 15 and desperate for acceptance. He expects her to know what she's talking about. When she tells him "You could become human if you use the jewel" and "The jewel would be purified if you made that wish" he believes her. But these are false statements, based on no evidence whatsoever. It's careless and irresponsible of Kikyo to say that to Inuyasha.

If Kikyo had actually been honest with Inuyasha and made it clear that she has NO way to know if the wish will work, that he's clearly taking a risk by using it on HIMSELF and if she had actually talked with him to figure out if erasing half of his identity was really the best thing for him, then in that case I would not blame her. But as it is what she did was wrong. That doesn't make her evil of course, but she's also not the flawless person that some people make her out to be. Not when her actions would have killed the titular character and we the audience can see that with Kikyo dying, Kagome coming back in time, helping save Kikyo's soul and making the correct wish (that she only knows because she's literally from the future) things actually ended up "better" than if the jewel had continued to exists for centuries.

This is what I wanted to explain but with Twitter character's limit and no option to edit what you post, it ends up being a mess lmao. That's why I normally stick to tumblr for analysis 😩

[oncexinxmyxdreams]

Walk Into My Mystery Part 11

Build Up

Hope shops blanket fort materials. Patterned sheets, various pillows, sleep mat and extra blankets. Don't forget fairy lights! She also picks up a tourist book about Yucca Valley and Skittles for a treat.  

When she unpacks everything, Shadow pieces together her idea. "I had a feeling you'd like a blanket fort," Hope replies. "Do you like the star sheets? This one's a bit cutesy, but the other has accurate constellations. Either way, you have night sky. Oh, and these fairy lights? They have a little remote so you can change colors."   

Shadow's moved. "I love it," he says steadily. His eyes water a little. Hope wasn't expecting that.

They construct it together. Actually, they take it apart a couple times for different shapes until satisfied. Hope moves two small bookshelves, so he has a mini library. Shadow's intrigued by the tourist book.    

He tries Skittles for the first time. (Released 5 years after his imprisonment.) They're fine though he wonders if they still make Bottle Caps and Zotz. Bottle Caps, yes. Zotz? Never heard of it. Hope does google search. She's baffled they're from 1970! She also finds that Bottle Caps are from 1972.

"No. Now way. He can't be that old," she thinks. "Unless he's a time traveler."

Weird how this candy question finally breaks her wondering. Almost 3 months! Mysterious, ageless hedgehog appears with hardly a hint of his life except for sadness just asked about 50 year old food. Will he please talk, or does she have to bring it up first? Maybe she should.

 "So...Shadow, I looked up Bottle Caps and Zotz. They're pretty old. I mean 50 years old." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Some may not think that's a long time, but I'm 23 and that seems old to me. 50 years might as well be time of dinosaurs or the ice age." Hope should stick to mechanics, not comedy.

It couldn't be any more awkward. Not even a cricket chirp would help. "If you want to know about me you could just ask," Shadow replies firmly and arms crossed. Unintentionally, this comes off like a challenge. Yeah. Go ahead and ask. Do it if you dare.  

Hope glares back and keeps her tone steady. "Shadow, it's not always easy to ask you things. I don't want to step over boundaries. Remember when I came back that one time with food and you snapped you wanted to be alone? I did and then you crossed my path looking like you were having a breakdown. I don't want trigger your emotions."  

"But then," she continues and paces about the room, "I notice points where you seem sad. Not just that: grieving." Shadow flinches and looks down. "You said you don't know where you belong. I'd like to know where, how or if you belonged. Then you tell the cops earth is your home, and you protect it! I could piece something together, but I'm not sure." She's growing agitated.

"Seriously! You just came out of nowhere right after a laser spaceship exploded and the moon was sliced! I find your inhibitor ring in the desert and I still don't know what it's for! Are you the only survivor of space creatures that were killed from the explosion? Are you hiding from the government? I want to help you, but I don't know how because you're a mystery! And yeah! I'm one to talk because I don't reveal much about myself until I completely trust someone." She sits in her desk chair and inhales. She didn't mean to accuse.

"I'm not mad at you Shadow. I don't blame you for being private. I just..." Maybe she needs to tell her story for him to understand? "I've gone through loss myself and I can tell something hurt you: hurt you very deeply. I needed to communicate my pain losing my parents and all my grandparents. Even my old cat. Only then, was anyone able to help. No matter what you've experienced, I wish I knew how to support you." A long tension filled pause. She must've gone too far.

"I do trust you," Shadow finally answers. "You've supported me more than you could imagine. As much as I want to, I can't bring up my history. It's too much." Sorrow, exhaustion and age in his tone.

"Too much to tell all at once or never?" Hope inquires.

"All at once." 💔

"Could you tell me a little at a time? Just enough for me for to understand?" She lets the offer hang for him to grasp. Please let him take it.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

And we have reached the end of SDRA2, and it really isn't a good look when the best case is the 1st one. Makes you wonder where everything went wrong.

A2-1 does have a lot of good points and does a really good job setting up seeds for the rest of the game, its just a shame that LINUJ fumbled big time with a lot of it.

The game starts off strong by not only revealing the Mastermind right off the bat but then he's serious by seemingly killing off two of the survivors from the last game, of course both Rei and Teruya get better but it really shows LINUJ is coming in guns blazing literally and he isn't afraid to do things the canon series will never do in a million years.

I can understand why you think Mikado is weak since he does lay low in the first half but I blame that more on how LINUJ view storytelling as he probably wanted more Mikado action in the second half of the story and not the first half. There should have been some signs, yes, but that doesn't really go with his philosophy of story telling. But in the first chapter you are left terrified as the Mastermind is right there with you, and you cannot do anything about it since due to his godly magical powers, nobody can stand up to him. Heck Syobai almost dies fighting him, and given Syobai was already established to be someone to not fuck with since he stabs Sora, this really elevates his threat level.

It also allows to you explore the mechanics and I have to point out I love how Daily Life is because its not just FTEs, as you can explore or rest depending on how much energy you have. It means for once you have to do resource management in a Danganronpa game which is something that's never been done before and I do give LINUJ credit whenever something original comes up.

Chapter 1 also has the fanservice scene where you peep on on the opposite sex bathing. Only since its Sora, you are looking at the men, and its so hilarious due to not only how Sora, Yoruko and Iroha all have different reactions but how it establishes Setsuka as a complete troll. Sadly, this is the only optional scene in SDRA2 which sucks as these were my favourite parts of the canon series as it rewards you for trying to collect every item possible. Its equally funny on my playthrough since I got this scene before I did my first FTE with Nikei which just showcases his hypocrisy when it comes to being a pervert.

Now onto the victim of this case Yuri Kagarin. Now I understand the guy was basically begging to die first chapter but given how its revealed later on he's the actual creator of Monocrow, I would have loved him to stick around a little longer to see how he reacts to class trials and maybe more ways to showcase his intelligence. The SDRA2 dub also has some of his words in Russian, but I know the Russian Danganronpa community doesn't like this because as one pointed out to me, its clearly was done in Google Translate and doesn't fit the context whatsover. Still I give props for trying to be original. But still I wasn't too hung up (not literally) when he died because he was the character I was the least invested in going into it.

But can I just say how BRUTAL Yuri's death is, especially for a Chapter 1 death? Sayaka was stabbed in the bathroom. While Imposter was skewered, he was laying face down so you don't see the wounds. Rantaro was bashed over the head and Kiyoka was also hit over the head and hung up. Yuri though? He had a hook in his leg, was flung up causing massive bleeding when he hits the ledges and then when his body hits the bell and falls down, he just looks like a mess, like Jesus Christ. I know this is very tame compared to what later SDRA2 deaths are but fuck me LINUJ is completely savage when it comes to how people die.

Oh and something else? Apperantely Syobai and Yuri were supposed to be swapped in terms of both personality and death. Yeah Syobai was supposed to be these sleezy pervert who dies in Chapter 1, whilist Yuri would be more cold and distant and survive to the end. Heck we even have a early screenshot where Syobai calls Sora cute and says he wants to go for Sora even harder because she's being difficult. No I am not joking. Honestly glad we didn't get this as Syobai being a arsehole is one thing but he being a sleezebag? Yeah nope so much nope.

The Deadly Life was good since you had quite a wide area to explore also I like the Investigation Music. It also is when we start to get hints all is not well with Kanade as suddenly as soon as a body drops Kanade decides to become competant and helpful which is a massive red flag something is up with her. I give credit when its due and say Kanade's true nature was decently foreshadowed as we had nurmerous hints that all was not well with her, but still I don't think we were expecting what we got.

The Class Trial is also quite well done since while Koroko knows who the culprit is unlike a certain guitarist, she decides to take a backseat and let others come to the same conclusion and only step in if things are going off track. Its the same aura that Kyoko has, where she's already figured out who done it, but doesn't tell you the answer as she wants you to come to the same conclusion as her via your own logic. And the fact we get fake Truth Bullets is such a nice touch as its proof that LINUJ knows you are a seasoned vetarian at Danganronpa and treats you like one, by throwing all these curveballs to keep you guessing. Its why a lot of Pokemon ROM hacks tend to be way harder then the offical games as the ones making the hack expect you to know everything and so they throw you into the deep end.

It also makes you really have to think about people's behaviours as what nails Hajime as the culprit is the fact he's behaving against his character, as he is a health nut but for some reason likes drinking which even Yuki found sus. The fact he is also the one who asked Setsuka to invite Yuri despite everyone else writing him off, is another thing that bags him and given the eventual Void reveal, this trains you into having to really second guess everyone's behaviour and actions, which is a valuable skill when it comes to sniffing out Voids.

I'll be honest, I had a feeling Hajime was gonna be the first culprit because we had two buff guys and one was gonna die in Chapter 4 and the other would be a easy early death. Especially when you realise the way the escape was done is taking into account someone who is very physically active, thus Hajime's own health nut nature is what does him in though. What doesn't help is when doing the AA my fucking computer decides that EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I. ATTACK. THE. BUBBLES. A sticky key error alert which doesn't PAUSE the game comes up, which made this AA minigame way harder then it needed to be. And it didn't get better with Emma's either, so yeah when we get to future chapters all the boss fights will be 100% harder due to the fact Mikado decided to hack into my computer to prevent me from winning.

And then there was the Void reveal which...okay I will be completely honest. I think Void are both the best and worst things to happen to this game. On one hand, the fact there is a entire evil faction that's masquarding as a fellow classmate means there is no sense of trust in the group and really turns this into a game of Mafia/Werewolf as you try to sniff out who the evil members are. It also means as you said due to how long it takes for each Chapter to come out, it means people hyper analysis every character to decide who the other 3 Voids were. Some like Nikei were hyper obvious and others like Iroha nobody saw coming. It really adds a unique atmosphere to this game that none would top. Heck the fact a popular AU is what if there was a Void-like organsation in other games really sells how good of a concept this was for a Fangan.

An concept that LINUJ completely and utterly wasted.

Because this is where his philsophy of evil people are always evil really runs at odds with his writing since it seems with a few expections, he cannot for the life of him write purely evil characters. Its not that difficult to have Void members do Kick the Dog moments, laugh at the others and show how much they do not care for anyone but themselves, but he keeps not doing this and then trying to insist they are evil. Nikei being a scumbag in Chapter 4 and Iroha being a waste of space are great examples of how much this is at odds as each other because it seems the writing and LINUJ's worldview is at active war with each other and not in a good. It also ruins the main message of Danganronpa that anyone, no matter how good they are, can kill if pushed into a corner. But all the culprits are either members of a terrorist organisation or a deranged serial killer then that doesn't prove a point. As only the evil people killed and everyone else would never kill. Also the fact not a single Void wound up as a victim which was a completely wasted chance as it would have been so interesting to see Mikado LOSE it if one of his fellow Voids was killed by someone else. There was also the fact the Void members didn't interact with a lot of their victims that much and really make the betrayal sting.

Imagine if Setsuka and Shinji were Voids. Those two were the main hearts and souls of the group keeping everyone together and to find out all of that was a lie? It would be so soul crushing, but no Hajime made minor points, Emma just interacted with Koroko and nobody else, Iroha was just there and Nikei fucked off until Chapter 4. Not a single one made a effort to interact with the group that much which makes the reveals hurt all the more when they would be revealed.

Void Theatre I also have a mixed bag on as while it did explore Hajime's character which is good because since he's the only Chapter 1 culprit to not be a meme, he was lacking in appeal there. But I do question why the Voids are in limbo, is it some sick joke by Mikado? I'm gonna say so since its the kind of thing he would do and really push any AM-like traits I get from him. Normally with the Theatres I just roll my eyes and move on but since Void Theatre is not that, I had a bit more to say.

Also Setsuka this is why we don't do parties ever, parties is how people die in Danganronpa and its why I screamed no so loud when Marin suggested the goddamn sleepover in The After Chapter 2 since I knew shit was gonna happen in it.

Overall A2-1 is a very solid and good opener which really sets the stage for the rest of the game, and its a damn shame the rest of the game didn't take what was given to it due to the potential. And that's why you aren't in the top 10.

Next time well...its pretty obvious what Number 10 is and while its very similar there are also notable differences like the other game being way better then SDRA2 would ever be.

//I will admit that through doing this analysis series, I've come to realize that I probably didn't give Mikado enough credit that he deserves. But I still think there should have been more of a balance between the goofy stuff and the sinister stuff for the first few chapters prior to Chapter 4.

//It just wasn't handled too well in my opinion.

//Also, you might like the resource management stuff, but I can assure you that I don't. I will agree that SDRA2's isn't so bad, but it's still not something that I enjoy in my video games.

//And yes, I do agree that this fanservice scene is pretty fucking funny. As time has gone on, I think the peeping scenes have grown more tasteless overtime, and if I had to rank the one's in the main series, I think my favourite would be the Man's Nut scene in DR2.

//And the reason, contrary to what you might think, isn't because I like Mahiru and I think she's sexy (even though I do), I like it because Hajime's actions and dialogue were just so fucking funny, and the implication that he was influenced by some mind-possessing nut that makes you horny softens the degeneracy aspect of it for me. I can't make that excuse for Makoto, Yuki, or Shuichi.

//But yeah, this is the only other one of those scenes where we actually get, firstly, a group of peepers, which only DR1 and DRA1 did, as well as the only one where we get to see the full scope of their reactions. But it's mainly because it's a bonus scene that I didn't cover it.

//Anyway, I'm not here to talk about bath scenes. I'm here to talk about the trials.

//Yuri's brutal death makes sense upon reflection because unlike the other Case 1 killers, Makunouchi and the members of VOID are straight up VILLAINS. Not innocent people who were forced into murder by circumstances they couldn't control. They had a long time to think about how they were going to execute these plans and pull them off, and the goal from the beginning was to commit murder. Even with Makunouchi being one of the more redeemable members of VOID, that doesn't change this fact.

//But what I will say is that while I'm glad the Syobai we got is the best one we could have had, I don't think I would have been too opposed to having Yuri stick around for more than one chapter, even though I really don't like him. Like I said already, he had a very Nagito-like philosophy, and similar values where he was willing to sacrifice himself, and what LINUJ pulled off in this chapter with him was very interesting.

//And yes, Kanade's true nature was foreshadowed, but specifically in this trial. For this trial, when she started pressing Yoruko, I thought it was interesting as a change in nature, and how Hibiki is the more authoritive, but Kanade is the more intelligent, and they both switch that authority in certain situations.

//I liked that idea. But then when Trial 2 happened, it just got ANNOYING. So I wish LINUJ had stuck with this nature for this trial. Especially because Kanade's reaction to Yoruko turning out to be innocent basically being "Bummer..." was actually kind of funny.

//That sticky keys stuff must have been REAL annoying by the time you got to Trial 3, huh? lol.

//But yeah, I think my biggest issue with this case is that Hajime is not a very difficult killer to sus out. There's quite a lot pointing to him, and I've seen two YouTubers play this trial; Weeby Newz and SHSL Blaze; and both of them figured out pretty quickly that it had to be him. But unlike Leon, Teruteru, or Mitch, the clues, nor his nature, made him super obvious.

//And yeah, you basically paraphrased my feelings on VOID, and indirectly explained why Makunouchi is my favourite OF them.

//On one hand, the introduction of an evil faction pretending to be a classmate creates a sense of distrust among the group, turning the game into a constant battle to figure out who the evil members are. This also leads to intense character analysis, as players speculate on the identities of the other Voids. Some characters, like Nikei, are obviously suspicious, while others, like Iroha, are surprising, and this concept adds a unique atmosphere to the game, and the idea of a Void-like organization has even inspired fan theories for other games.

//However, the concept is poorly executed, particularly due to LINUJ’s philosophy that evil characters are always evil, which clashes with the writing. LINUJ struggles to create genuinely evil characters, often failing to show them committing evil acts that prove their villainy.

//Ironically, the only killer who goes that far for a purely plain and outright despicably evil reason is Kanade (and Mikado, but he's kind of his own entity), and she is the only killer in this game who ISN'T a member of VOID.

//And yeah, the fact that none of the VOIDs become victims threw away the opportunity to create emotional tension. It would have been impactful if a Void had been killed by another character, especially if someone like Mikado lost a fellow Void.

//Furthermore, many VOID members barely interacted with their victims, reducing the emotional weight of their eventual betrayal, with the only exception being Emma with Kokoro. If characters like Setsuka and Shinji had been Voids, the shock and heartbreak of the revelation would have been much more impactful,

//Probably a large reason why everyone expected Setsuka WOULD be a VOID.

//And yeah, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm interested in VOID Theater, but these days, Fangans tend to outright ignore the Monokuma Theater or its equivelents entirely. And for good reason; basically no one likes them, and it pads the game with needless dialogue.

//This is an exception though, because the Theater is hosted by the VOID's, and it's where we actually learn the most about their characters and what drives them to do the nasty things that they have done. It's why I still like Hajime and Emma despite the fact they portray themselves as despicable monsters, because they're very clearly not.

//To top this off, the reaction you had to the sleepover sequence in TheAfter is the exact same as my reaction to the party in Chapter 2 of Penguinronpa. I won't spoil it, obviously, but a party happens there, and yes, somebody dies with it.

//Also, in the Fangan I'm currently playing; Jikoronpa: Laments of Isolation, something similar happens:

[SPOILERS FOR JIKORONPA IF YOU WANT TO PLAY IT]

In Jikoronpa, there is a scene in Chapter 1 where they gather everybody together for a music festival to boost everybody's spirits, and this happens relatively near the end of the first chapter, thanks to a suggestion by an Idol girl named Chiyuki.

//One of the characters, a Bodyguard named Fuyuka, berates the everloving fuck out of this idea, and doesn't do so in a nice way, because she thinks putting everyone in the same place means it'll be easy to commit a murder. Very much the OPPOSITE of Imposter in DR2. But she gets outvoted, and the party goes ahead anyway.

//During the party, there is a blackout, and when the lights come back on, everybody is perfectly fine, and no one is dead, but Fuyuka still takes the moment to tell everyone "I told you so," and rebukes Chiyuki so harshly, that she kind of falls into Despair.

//I liked the subversion with that game, and while Jikoronpa has had its ups and downs, this was interesting.

[SPOILERS OVER]

//But yeah, A2-1 is a good case, and the fact that the general feeling of the other cases don't reach this high is an unfortunate shame.

-Mod

[blood-mocha-latte]

Okay hear me out. A Valentine's Day ficlet wherein everyone in H Company is out on fancy dates except ace!Chuckler, who is S T O K E D to have the apartment to himself. He's gonna Tom Cruise underwear dance yo.

bestie you absolute GENIUS by god. ace!chuckler my beloved!! loosier sort of Shoved themselves into this, which i hope is okay!

i love this too much. so much. all the much. i hope you enjoy <3

~

“Please don’t tell me those are what I think they are.” 

Chuckler smiled, smug, and adjusted the sunglasses across the bridge of his nose. “I think I look classy.” He said, and Lucky looked at him with something that matched vague horror.

“They’re bigger than the continental US.” He said, sounding somewhat impressed. “And pink.”

“And stylish.” Runner jumped in easily, rounding their kitchen island with a cup of coffee and sitting across from Leckie. “You could be on the cover of Vogue.”

Lew grinned, and tilted his face up so the sunglasses wouldn’t fall off. “Because of my stunning good looks?”

He’d gotten the glasses for half off at the gas station that sat kitty-corner from their apartment, and it was, in short, the best three quarters and a dime he ever spent. 

“I think I’m gonna wear them everywhere.” He said, and took them off only to admire them, the heart-shape of their frames, the red tint of the shades. “Paint ‘em green, go out for a night in the town.”

“Get horribly lost again.” Runner agreed, and Chuckler made a face at him.

“Okay, well, that wasn’t on me.” He said loftily, crossing his arms and setting the glasses down on the table. “Someone took the charger so my phone was dead, so I couldn’t Google-walk home—”

“—that was extenuating-fucking-circumstances, I was supposed to get a call from a publisher—” Leckie is jumping in with a protest before Lew can even finishing talking, holding up his hands defensively, and Runner started talking over him after that, a large jumble of shouting that ceased only when Leckie’s door cracked open.

Lucky nearly fell out of his chair when Hoosier shuffled out of his room, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, hair sticking up in every direction. “Coffee.” He said, and Hoosier grunted, a nonverbal confirmation that sounded only slightly murderous.

“I hate you.” He said, shuffling the short distance between their bedroom and the dining room table and dropping into Leckie’s now unoccupied seat. Leckie in question was pouring a second mug of coffee, still steaming, and was quick to move and set it in front of Bill, pressing a kiss to his temple that Hoosier was too slow to bat away.

“I love you, and I’ll get you whatever you want tonight.” He promised, already turning back into the kitchen to find the creamer. Hoosier curved his hands around the mug, bringing his face down to inhale the steam.

“I want a new boyfriend.” He muttered to it, and Runner snorted.

“Bad night?” He asked, and Chuckler raised his eyebrows, pushing his glasses closer to Hoosier when the other just gave him a blank look.

“I was having trouble with my novel.” Leckie said absently, clattering around at the counter as he did something that Lew couldn’t see. “And was trying to force myself to write, which—”

“Which means that I got one and a half hours of sleep last night, and also am going to get a gun.” Hoosier said over him, face still against his mug. “To kill you, Bob, if that wasn’t clear.”

“It’s very clear. And very understandable.” Leckie said, turning back around with one of the semi-stale croissants they’d gotten at the same gas station that Chuckler had acquired his glasses at. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are?”

“I’m breaking up with you.” Hoosier said. “We’re done. Get out of my house.” Leckie hummed, setting the croissant in front of him and crossing an arm over the front of his chest, dropping his face down to his hair before kissing his forehead. 

“I’ve got an awesome day planned.” He said, and Hoosier groaned, holding up a hand to fend him off. “You’re gonna love it—”

“I’m gonna be too tired to enjoy it—”

“Well,” Chuckler interrupted, pushing his sunglasses back onto his face when Hoosier showed no interest in them. “I mean. I slept great.”

Hoosier just blinked at him. “Would you like company tonight?”

“Baby—” Leckie started, holding his hands out, but Lew was already shaking his head, vehement. 

“No way in hell!” He said cheerfully, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. “Today for me is about me. Today for you is about you and Lucky, it’s not my fault he’s a terrible partner.”

Hoosier dropped his forehead to the table with a groan, and Leckie shot Chuckler a vaguely threatening look. Lew just shrugged, still grinning, and Runner snorted.

“I mean. I’m gonna have a great day too.” He offered, and Chuckler held his hand up in a high five.

“Hell yeah!” He said, enthused. “But you can’t stay here. I have dibs.”

Leckie made some sort of frustrated sound, still clattering around in something that seemed to be in an effort to reap forgiveness. “When can we come back?” He asked, complaining, and Hoosier snorted.

“Why do you care?” He muttered to the table. “You’re never getting laid again.”

Chuckler just shrugged. “Sleep over at Hoosier’s place.” He offered to Lucky, and Hoosier groaned over him in protest. 

“He’s sleeping in the fucking street before he’s getting into my bed again.” He said, and Leckie sighed.

So. Very par for the course.

“I’ll give you seven dollars if we can come back by nine.” Lucky offered, and Lew grinned, delighted.

“Nope! This is the first time I get to be by myself in nine months, by darling friends, and I don’t want to see any of your faces for the next twenty-four hours. You have thirty minutes to get out of here.” 

He finished off his own coffee, and Hoosier pushed his face off of the table to squint at him, under eyes bruised purple. Leckie moved around him again, attempting to kiss his cheek, and Hoosier steered him away with an open palm to the face.

“I like your glasses.” He told Chuckler.

“Thanks.” Lew said, cheerful. “I like your croissant.”

“Thanks. You can have it, if you want. You can have the man who made it, too.”

“Babe—” 

Chuckler snorted, wrinkling his nose. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

--

His plan for the night, as written out:

Wrap all of Leckie’s shoes in cellophane.

Last month, Lew had woken up at four in the morning with his singularly obtained Buffy the Vampire Slayer comic book shrink wrapped, and Leckie sitting at their kitchen table, sipping at coffee, calmly writing out what seemed to be a letter.

Finally, he had time to seek his revenge.

(He had also conveniently forgotten that the reason Leckie’d wrapped his comic book at all was because Chuckler had replaced all of Hoosier’s keys with plastic baby rings.)

Do his laundry. In peace. 

Last time, Runner had gotten cheetos in the dryer. Lew wasn’t even sure how he managed that, but never again. Never again.

Text Hoosier to make sure he hasn’t actually killed Lucky.

“Hi.”

“Hey! Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s fine. It’s all fine. I’m still mad, though, so. Uh.”

“Lucky plan something good?”

“Ugh. Yeah. It’s really sweet, the motherfucker. I’m never gonna forgive him for this.”

“He took you to the Observatory, didn’t he?”

“Yep. The bastard. How’s it going for you?”

“I mean. If it makes you feel better, he has a nice present at home, now.”

“Hm. Make him suffer for me.”

“Okay! But don’t make him too upset. This is, like, a big night for him.”

“...”

“Hello?”

“Chuckler. You have to tell me if he’s going to propose. Legally. It’s — you can get arrested if you don’t.”

“Hm. I don’t think I can. But he’s not gonna propose—”

“I — I mean, we’ve talked about this, and I’d say yes, but if he proposes on fucking Valentines day—”

“He’s not gonna propose! I promise. Scouts honor! Roommates honor!”

“That is the most cliche shit I’ve ever heard—” 

“All I did was tell you to be nice to him! That doesn’t mean he’s going to ask you to marry him—” 

“Oh, holy fuck, I knew that he was being weirdly nice—”

Make a cake.

Although whatever drama Hoosier and Leckie were going through was interesting enough, he also had a recipe that he wanted to try and last time he’d tried to bake anything of any sort, Hoosier had poured jalapeno sauce into it. 

Which, come to think of it, may have been because Chuckler popped all of the keys out of Leckie’s laptop.

Listen to Simon and Garfunkel.

Runner hated Simon and Garfunkel, and because Chuckler was to be a good person, he didn’t blast it through the house when he was home.

But he wasn’t home, was he!

Lew loved Valentine's Day.

Call Hoosier one more time. Just to be extra certain Leckie isn’t dead.

“Oh, good, you picked up! Please tell me you haven’t got engaged—”

“What? Oh, no. Bob has been, uh. Well. Bob’s been arrested, so—”

“Bob’s been what—” 

“But it’s not my fault, I feel I should make that incredibly clear—”

“Uh-huh. Okay, well, I’m not coming and getting you. Call Runner.”

“No, no—”

“It’s my day, Hoosier! You know this! It’s my day, I’m not dragging my ass down to the station—”

“My boyfriend’s in jail, Lew, I think that’s extenuating circumstances—”

“Ope, the Sound of Silence just came on, so I’m gonna obey its wise title and hang up. Call Runner!”

“I — uh. Fine. It’s your day.”

“It really is! Good luck. Don’t say anything without a lawyer.”

Yeah. Lew loved Valentine’s Day.

[uwukillmenowowo]

Requested by:

[eyeofthetiger501]

(Giant Kirishima finds reader in his cave/home reader was in front of it trying to find some wood for the camp site with her friends her friends went to hunt some animals or something but when reader went deeper into the cave she saw a giant shadow around she before she could turn around she was grabbed by Kirishima and she starts struggling trying to get out of his grasp so Kirishima keeps her as his mate)

Firstly I would like to apologize for not posting this sooner. It was done and everything but I completely forgot to post it. T_T

That and also I was looking at my Wattpad page and I haven't been online in a WHILE hahahaha-

anyways, sorry I didn't message you about this sooner QwQ

Please enjoy-

Mate Captured

[Giant! Yandere? Kirishima x F!Reader]

Notes:

This is set in a Quirk less World

SLLLLLIIIIIIGHT non-con

Reader and her friends have been looking forward to their camping trip for months now!

but once they got there, they realized that they didn't pack the one thing they needed...

FIREWOOD FOR THEIR FUCKING FOOD!

In tears, everyone was given a task to make their camping time better.

And Reader ended up getting the short end of the stick, having to collect the firewood while the others either hunted or set up the rest of their equipment.

He watched with both confusion and amusement. The small human he kept an eye on won't know what hit her.

{Second POV}

~~~~~

You sighed heavily as you continued to grab some firewood. 'I just had to pick scissors' You pouted as you thought back to the Rock Paper scissors game you and your friends played for what jobs you all had to do. You picked up another big stick and placed in into the box to hold it easier.

*Drip*

"Eh..?" You looked up only to see that it started to rain. "What? I thought it was gonna rain tomorrow!" You started to run for cover. not only to keep you dry, but also so the firewood wouldn't get wet.

You ran for a while until you found cover by a huge tree. You sighed in relief and took a seat by the tree to catch a breath. You just watched as the rain poured and poured. It was satisfying. *Brrr* You looked down and saw your phone ringing so you picked it up. "Hello?" You asked.

"[Y/n]! Where are you? It's raining cats and dogs outside!" You chuckled as the mom friend of the group scolded you. "I'm alright Iida. I'm just waiting out the rain by a big tree." "Are you sure!?" You heard Ochaco's worried voice. "Its gonna be a storm in the next hour! You should take shelter in the cave to your right" You blinked twice in confusion. Looking around, you saw a cave just like Ochaco said. "How..?" You asked.

"Google maps." "Ah- okay." You got up, carrying the box of wood. "I'll see you guys in a few hours then?" You didn't bother waiting for a response because you knew that the others would ask if you had stuff to keep you okay. Like snacks and water. You just sat by the entrance of the cave in boredom. The rain just kept pouring.

Hour after hour, all you did was wait.

Eventually, you got too bored and decided to pace around the cave. That was... until you found out that the cave went deeper than it did. You hid the box of wood behind some rocks so that no one found in and then you ventured down. You didn't want to just wait for hours. boredom can kill.

Turning on your phone's flashlight, you looked around. The cave looked... well kept? The floor was smooth and had no pebbles on it, as if someone was living down here. The deep you went, the bigger the cave became. 'What on Earth..?' You thought, and took more steps down until you found yourself tripping on your feet and tumbled to the bottom of the cave.

Groaning, you reached out to hold something as you stood up, but once you got up, all you felt in your hand was... squishy..? You turned over to look at what you were holding, hoping that it wasn't a bear.

All you saw was a huge shadow. Scared, you tried running but you felt something grabbing you. You screamed in shock, not wanting to get hurt. But that's when you were met with a figure that you've only seen in movies or animations. The fiery red hair, the massive body, those piercing eyes and sharp white teeth.

Your vison adjusted and you gasped when you saw the giant humanoid. you blinked twice and shook your head, making sure that your own eyes weren't deceiving you.

When your eyes got used to the darkness, you saw that the one before you...

Wasn't as scary as they looked before.

Their red hair was spiky, but in a cute way. Their massive body was laying on the cave ground like a child, arms spread out. Their eyes soften as they met with yours and their barred teeth retracted, instead, staring at you, their mouth opened in awe.

"How small..." The one holding you awed, their eyes sparkling at the small creature they were holding.

You also stared, but not in awe. You were terrified.

I mean, science can't explain this!

A giant being just in a cave? A being so large that their own hand was as big as your own body, their eyes as big as your own head.

But at the same time.

Fascination.

How long has he been here by himself? Were there others? How come there were no sorts of reports of these giants? What was his food source? It’s not you is it??!

Questions raced through your mind but the giant then placed you down.

"Who are you?" You asked first. The giant being smiled and gave you a closed eye smile, "My name, Kirishima"

The next 30 minutes was just of you and him bonding. He found out you were waiting out the rain and you found out he was looking for a mate so that he won't be lonely anymore.

He said that he has found a couple of... options but so far, he has a number one option.

You wanted to know. A giant that no one has never seen before, and he wants to court someone? You were quite excited.

You, an average nobody, making a new discovery??

It was pretty exciting!

He asked you if you wanted to come with him to meet her and being curious, your agreed.

Biggest mistake of your life.

You found yourself. being coddled to your ever need. Which doesn't sound bad...

But Kirishima tried forcing himself onto you many times. You told him multiple times how you didn't want it, how you wern't ready.

And he listened... But that didn't mean he would listen forever.

He was going to claim you one was or another.

After one more hour, you got a call from your phone. You were glad that you still had battery and when you checked it, you saw it was Iida calling you. "Hello?" You asked. "[Y/n]. Where are you? The rain stopped two hours ago."

Getting up and walking away from Kirishima, you excitedly explained where you were, but when you were about to mention Kirishima's exsistance, you found yourself getting grabbed and pulled away, dropping your phone, you were placed in Kirishima's lap.

Concerned at his sudden actions, you asked what was going on.

And he stared at you, the smile you got used to seeing was now replaced with lust filled eyed and a sensual smirk. "I can't take it anymore. You're mine now. And I can't let you leave me so suddenly like that" Confused by Kirishima's sudden tone, you laughed ervously and tried to get out.

However, Kirishima tightened his hold on you. "Uhh... okay buddy... You can let go of me now. I gotta get my phone." Kirishima didn't listen to you. Instead, "This phone?" He pointed out before crushing it with his finger. "H-Hey! That was my phone!" You panicked since you couldn't call your friends now. "I had to. I can't let my mate leave." Kirishima shrugged as he started walking deeper into the cave, holding you tight.

Just then, did you remember his words, hours ago when you asked him about who his mate was. When Kirishima saw your expression, he smiled.

"Did ya figure it out, my small precious mate?"

I hope this was okay.

I bet you can tell I didn't want to write anything dirty

;w;

[antisociallilbrat]

I saw that person ask you which Losers would survive Coraline and I also saw that you like the hunger games so now I gotta ask which Loser do you think would survive the hunger games?

I'm more excited to answer this ask then I should be, thank you anon. This makes me miss my Hunger Games Stenbrough Au may it rest in peace </3

Answering this question is a little different than the Coraline one because there's many factors that go into actually winning the games. And anon I'm assuming that you meant them competing different years bc if they competed the same year uh....anyways I randomized which Loser came from which district with the wheel to make it fair. Not that the district they come from has a direct effect if they win or lose but does factor into it. Anywho you know the drill:

Ben: He's coming from district four and this works greatly in his favor. He's a naturally athletic guy and looking at tributes like Finnick and considering that district four is a career district...my man is buff. Not that he would volunteer though- he's not a career. That said he's naturally good natured (Peeta anyone?) and would draw in sponsors. But he's also Ben...I don't think he has it him to kill people so ruthlessly even on the stake of his survival. So no, Ben does not survive his games.

Richie: He got district two and I was almost tempted to respin it but nope, we're being fair here. (In my fic he was a victor from D2 🤨 the wheel knows) Out of fanfic though I'm on the fence if he would actually survive. Rich has the showmanship so he would have sponsors eating out of the palm of his hands but he's no brute. I don't think he'd be one even coming from district two. I don't see him being an ally guy. If I really think about I have to say yes he would survive his games if not at least get very far. His strategy would be just to avoid people and he's smart enough to aware of his surroundings and if need be he will kill. But if a brute came after him he could be overpowered so if that was the case he'd die but I'm sticking with yes.

Bev: Oh...she got district six. I had to google it and the first thing that popped up was 'they are at a disadvantage because they have no experience with weapons or tools'. Bev is still smart though and I can see stealth being her biggest advantage but I'm sorry, being from district six she doesn't have a chance so no she doesn't win. Maybe if she was from a career district and could pull a Clove?

Mike: Hell yeah he got district seven. Look, him and Ben are kinda similar right here- both athletic and being from districts with physically demanding occupations (seven is lumber) so Mike is kind of a tank. Mike also has that sweet demeanor that would win over some sponsors- even being from an outlier district. Where he differs from Ben is I think Mike would kill for the sake of getting home. He's also Mike so the guilt would almost kill him but I think he would do it so I'm saying yes he would survive his games.

Bill: Unlike Richie, Bill did not end up the same district he had in my fic, the wheel spun him to district ten. So not a career but a good natured farmer's boy? One who's familiar with the slaughterhouse? Who's also fit because his district also has a physically demanding occupation? Look it's not bc he's my favorite Loser but I do have to say yes he would win his games unless he had to kill someone aged like twelve or thirteen, someone who reminded him of Georgie. He'd be screwed then.

Eddie: He got district one- my bb is a career! ...okay I don't see him being a career but I can see him volunteering to get away from Sonya. It's her worst fear and it would be the ultimate- and most risky- way to get out from under her control. I think sponsors would like his fiery nature and despite not being a career, he's quick and smart. I have to say yes he would win his games or at least get to the end.

Stan: I spun for him but it didn't really matter which district he got- it was three. Look I love Stanley, he's my boy, my blorbo, but he would not win the games. I don't have to elaborate much on why. Sorry Stan, you survived Coraline but not the games. I will say that I feel like he would keep his pride up until the very end. It was all he had left :(

[otterandterrierwrites]

For Talk Shop Tuesday: I am curious about the vampire AU — did you make use of existing vampire lore or did you make up your own? (Or a mixture of the two?)

It was a mix of both! I wanted to be as close to vampire lore as possible while also using what was convenient to the story and to the particular GFFA 'verse, while also making it make sense for me.

So, Leia has retractable fangs; she feeds on blood and it can be animal blood; she's sensitive to light (but also sound and touch); she feels more animalistic and out of control; regular food and drink make her sick. But she's not dead; she doesn't go up in flames in the sun (or shine lol); she doesn't stop growing old; her health gets better when she feeds on human blood; she doesn't need to kill someone to feed but it doesn't mean those people (or animals...) will turn into vampires; she doesn't turn into animals. I know these aren't things I made up for the very first time in the history of vampire stories lol, but they're things I didn't look up or pick to stick to a common portrayal of vampires.

The things I made up: Leia's latent Force-sensitivity has a part in her vampirism (which is actually never named as such), and there's a particularity in Han's blood that keeps him from getting anemic while also allowing Leia to feed regularly (this is the part that had to more or less make sense to me and required several google searches and discord support).

Mostly I wanted this to feel like less of a supernatural vampire story and more like a chronic disease narrative (that was also sexy and a little horrifying), in that it's something that profoundly alters Leia's life and brings up feelings of grief and otherness, while also serving to bring her and Han together.

Thank you for asking!

the fic: honey don't feed me (I will come back)

[whatifchilchuckwasadog]

hi not to derail i just am filled with the need to really highlight the "i'm not going to attempt to pronounce this" issue. it pisses me off so much for so many reasons.

do you not know how to look things up. if you don't know how to look up pronunciations why am i listening to anything you're saying. you clearly didn't look stuff up you're just talking out of your ass

i don't care if it's unfamiliar to you. everything is unfamiliar for someone every day. are you a coward? or just, in many cases, racist?

it's not even always racist (i grew up with a "difficult" name with english origins in the united states, i'm white, most people mispronounced it and because of demographics of where i grew up and the circles my parents ran in, most of them were also white) BUT it is always disrespectful. if someone tells you face to face how to pronounce their name and you won't do it correctly or if you assign them a nickname without their consent you're an asshole. imo the most respectful thing you can do if you really truly cannot pronounce their name is just to try it a few times to make sure you get it right, ask them to correct you, and then use their name regularly the first few times you see them even if you don't use people's names often so it sticks in your brain. no one i've ever met with a "difficult" name has ever posed an issue with this, and it's personally my preferred way to be approached.

if it's something you found in a book or on the internet and you haven't heard people pronounce it - there are websites for that. there are websites where people pronounce things for you. practice it. it's not going to kill you to look up how to make certain ipa sounds. you aren't on such a strict schedule that you can't spend 5 minutes googling and practicing.

this one isn't even about respect to where the word is from it's just about respect for your viewer. i mostly encounter this in video essays. video essays are really good background noise. i get to learn things while i work or do chores. it's great! but if you make me put down what i'm doing because you're a slimy little bastard who refuses to respect other people to go and rewind your video to where you had it on the screen, i'm really just as likely to pick a different video by someone who has more respect for their subject and their audience.

youtube should give viewers the option to grade video essays like it's a high school english class assignment and if the median grade is below passing then they stick a huge png over your video advising that this is a vlog with slide show components. if the youtuber ever goes "umm. I'm not going to attempt to pronounce this" at any point then they're genetically altered to be able to survive underground and let loose in an endless series of catacombs built beneath their home to live the rest of their life as the fabled town troll.

[roxannepolice]

dyou still want thoschei hot takes? i think my takes are lukewarm at best (also why is it called lukewarm why not warm? i could google it but i dont really care that much). uhh i guess hot takes are like:

"Master" (the audio drama) is so much more than the one where the Doctor kills some guy when they're kids. It's actually a really cool exploration of their relationship.

Idk much about Classic Who but looking at it from my New Who and 7/8 EU lens, the Doctor is often self-righteous and tries to ignore the harm he does to others. The Master likes to kill people and that's pretty bad!

Like, one of them is obviously a worse person, but the Doctor contributed and contributes harm to their relationship. Also it's so cool in more than just the Thoschei thing? Genuinely an amazing audio all round.

I personally am terrible at reading big paragraphs of text with no paragraph breaks and I don't want the ask to get too long. Also I'm not sure if I have more lukewarm takes. So that's it I guess. If you didn't want hot takes now. Uh. Sorryy.

I'm always hungry for hot thoschei takes, they're pretty much the only stick I can poke my brain with xd

And yes, I agree, the Master audiodrama gets both too much and too little clout. Like, on the one hand there's the obsession with the whole deal with Death thing, which... just never made much sense to me? Not so much the deal itself as, oh see, the Doctor killed someone so now Death can claim them as their champion, except "others" had plans for them free will who?, excuse me, were the anthropomorphic personifications of Law or Justice consulted on this, because there is this thing called justifiable homicide and a panicking child reacting to their friend being drowned absolutely falls into this category? Like, is that supposed to be a metaphor?

You should have been the Master, and he should have been you is a great quote, but. it doesn't really mean anything?

But on the other hand, you're absolutely right - this is just plain a really good story! Excellent suspense, well fleshed out characters, magnificent voice acting... Like, if anything, the interesting thing for thoschei, and interesting in general, here is the idea of someone (an adult with full accountability for their actions) deciding it's their right to murder people they (and a considerable part of their society) have decided deserve it, basically to impress someone they consider the pillar of righteousness! Taking 7 of all regenerations to be involved, the guy who blew up Skaro, was an excellent choice, and I wish this aspect of the audiodrama was getting more attention.