#also not to mention the horror of beginning to trust a new person as a queer person and like

[aaronymous999]

GOD trans horror is such an untapped market…

The body horror of puberty for a lot of us gender dysphoric trans folks is talked about a lot so I won’t get all that into it. On the other hand, one that may be just my personal experience, is the social horror and anxiety of existing in spaces of the past and around people who knew me pre-transition.

When I transitioned, the few people I told outside my family ( who I am immensely grateful and privileged to have supporting me ) gave very unsupportive responses, and I knew that with myself already being bullied, it would only get worse. So I left it all behind, and I gained weight. I cut my hair. My name is legally changed. I’m less pale and I dress differently. I’ve gone through puberty, I’ve started HRT. Nobody recognizes me, and I’d like to keep it that way despite a while where I would constantly dream about my old friends accepting me, and then subsequent nightmares where I am trapped in my old body but with my current mind which is terrifying on it’s own merits and I might write something about that at some point… but my point being is that most of my anxiety stems from seeing people I used to know in public. Undoubtedly, who would be hostile to me if they knew, and it rids me with paranoia and anxiety that I don’t think will ever leave me. It’s almost like I’m keeping a secret, not maliciously of course, but a secret to protect myself, to not become a statistic. That’s a little overdramatic and personal I know- but I think it’s a real horror of my own life that’s rarely expressed in fiction, even within metaphor. I’ve always been one to attach myself to horror that represents the own horrors I face in my day to day life, which is why I find the typical slasher deeply uninteresting compared to the small town secrets and underlying bigotry and unspoken threats of violence that I come across in media every once in a while.

I deeply connect with the horror of hiding something, something that is not wrong or immoral, but something that could get you seriously harmed if revealed. It’s a deeply queer sense of horror in my opinion and if there’s any horror writers out there I’d love to see it… or if anyone knows any media that in metaphor or outright explores this I would absolutely LOVE to hear it.

So often I feel like I’ve found something that expresses this but- it almost always ends in a secret that’s legitimately kind of bad or just straight up that way. As much as I love Omori I found the conclusion somewhat disappointing after all the fascinating internal conflict that Sunny goes through. It kind of makes the journey less valuable and scary with the conclusion in mind but that might just be me. I would love to see something- a return to the past or an old home town out of necessity that leads to increasing paranoia and the sense of being unsafe in an environment which you once called home. Which I can imagine is also deeply personal to other demographics of people. Which is why I’m surprised it’s not written about as often as it seems to be relatable to people.

[yeollie-plz]

Promises.

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: In a world where gender roles have been reestablished, Joel continues to save you.

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: no outbreak but different outbreak?, i can't explain it, established relationship, Y/N insert, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced marriage, kissing, mentions of alcoholism and abusive relationships, explosions, pet names, kissing, orgasm denial, breeding kink?, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Once again writing from a dream I had, idk why I get such vivid dreams sometimes but its honestly so fun!

Also! I am so sorry that I haven't written something in so long, I had literally no motivation. But I hope you didn't miss me too much! And hey, I'm coming back with a bang! (literally, in a few aspects)

When the world almost ended 20 years ago, the government had to issue new laws. Laws that matched up women to men, in order to ensure the repopulation of the human race.

If you were of age, you were matched and married, the man basically owned you. It was very medieval in concept and for a lot also in practice. But for you, it brought you Joel who had slowly but surely became your whole world.

He was kind and took care of you. Nothing like the horror stories you would hear from the other women. He wanted to protect you and let you take your time to warm up to him.

When you finally admitted you liked him he was overjoyed. He had kissed you but took his time with everything else. He knew it was your first time and he wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. Joel was good and you couldn't be more happy with who was chosen for you.

The world, although now different and strange was the world you had to live in. You had to stay home, unless accompanied by Joel. The goal to repopulate the earth after an alien race tried to take over and wiped out half the population was going well. But with less humans and more aliens taking up living here, it wasn't the safest anymore.

Everyone was assigned a job, a person to marry, and a home to live in. It was organized with the goal of integrating humans and the aliens. And it was working as well as it could be. In the beginning it was rough but after so many years people were getting used to the new world order.

There, of course, was still some rebel groups out there. Women who wanted freedom, aliens who didn't want to be a part of earth, and humans who didn't want them either. Riots would happen here and there because of these rebel groups. But you? You were safe with Joel, you knew that, and you trusted him fully.

You woke to the sun shining in through the large windows that lined your apartment. One good thing about being assigned housing was that most were very nice. Rolling over you were met with an empty bed, Joel was no where to be found. There was no sound coming from the connected bathroom, and just as you were about to get out of bed in search of him there was a crash in the kitchen.

Out of instinct you threw the seats off of you and ran into the kitchen. Only to be met with Joel bent down on the floor cleaning up a broken plate.

"Joel?" You questioned, the shock now leaving your voice and being replaced by amusement.

"Hi baby." He said sheepishly as he picked up the last few shards.

"You okay?"

"Yep, just trying to make you breakfast a failing miserably, the usual." He shrugs and throws the shards away before leaving his mess for a second to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"It's the thought the counts." You smile at him while watching while he finishes up his cleaning.

You sit at the counter, watching him intently. After he finishes cleaning he returns to the stove. You hum to yourself as you watch him. The way his back flexes as he moves his arms makes you bite your lip.

Joel turns as you basically eye fuck him, smirking as he notices the look on your face. Placing a plate in front of you, he smiles at you, and leans across the counter for a kiss. You give him one and utter a small thank you.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel spoke up, "Got a lot of cleanup at work today, someone vandalized the train station." He said almost absentmindedly.

You nod in response not being able to hide the concerned look on your face.

"What?" He questions, quickly noticing.

"It's just-" You set down your fork, "-it was probably one of the rebels and I just don't want you to be put in danger."

He smiles lovingly at you, "I'm sure they won't be anywhere near it anymore, it was just some spray paint. Besides, you don't think I can protect myself?"

"No, I know you can protect yourself. But you'll just want to protect everyone else as well, then you'll get yourself in trouble."

Joel lets out a half scoff half laugh at your statement. He knows you are right, he is a protector by nature. He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him in an attempt to draw your eyes to his.

"The only person I want to protect is you. Sure, I will help the guys if they need it but my main goal is always to come home to you." Kissing your knuckles, he puts your hand down.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It had been a few hours since Joel had left for work. You did what you did most days which included some cleaning with a lot of relaxing. As you were settling down on the couch after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, heavy knocking came from the front door.

The sound made you jump, the aggression of the pounds sent chills down your spine. You usually weren't one to open the door when Joel wasn't home but you did like to at least see who is was.

So, as another set of knocks sounded on the heavy wood door, you dragged your ice cold body towards it. Your feet felt like lead as you stood straight to see clearly out of the peep hole.

On the other side was your neighbor, Jill. Jill had always been nice to you, yet you didn't really like her husband. He was arrogant and rude to say the least. But as Jill stood on the other side of the door, you could see fear etching her face. She shook as she glanced back and forth down the hallway. It was almost like she thought someone was following her.

After a few seconds of debating what to do and watching Jill secretively, you decided that whatever was happening to her was important enough to help. Girls had to stick together, especially when your world had become what it was.

Just as Jill was about to pound on the door again, you opened it slowly revealing yourself to her. She seemed almost shocked that you had answered.

"Jill?" You questioned trying to snap her out of her trance enough for her to explain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do." She looked at you with pleading eyes and you knew this was something serious.

"Come in, I'll get you something to drink. Maybe some tea?" You weren't sure what else to do but when you were anxious you liked a nice warm tea, maybe Jill did too. She nods at your suggestion and enters the house.

You close the door behind the two of you. Telling her to make herself comfortable while you made her tea.

When you returned to the living room with a nice cup of tea, Jill was still stood in the entrance of your apartment. Arms crossed like she was trying to protect herself.

Slowly you made your way over to her, holding out the mug to her. She took it after a beat or two of staring at it.

"Please, sit down. Take your time, you can tell me what happened." She looked up from the mug to you as you spoke and nodded tentatively, but did what you said anyway.

Silence washed over the two of you and stayed there for almost three whole minutes. You weren't sure what to do so you kept glancing around like something on walls would tell you what to do.

Suddenly she placed her mug down on the coffee table. Your head snapped towards her, you had almost forgotten why she was here. Something had clearly happened and you were curious what.

"I'm sorry for coming over here so abruptly, it's terrible of me to put you in this position." She said with a sigh.

"It's no problem. I can tell you aren't doing great so I'd like to be there for you if I can be." You offer a smile which she almost returns.

"Uh well how do I put this?" She sits and thinks for a second.

"My match...my match isn't such a good fit. He isn't a good person. Since the wedding day he has gotten drunk almost every night. He gets angry and yells and breaks things. He's just a bad person. Even not drunk he isn't a good person." You nod along to the things she's saying. you've heard of bad matches but nothing this bad.

"Well for a while I put up with it. I mean what else am I going to do? This is what had been chosen for me. He didn't always take it out on me too, he would yell at nothing or himself. But eventually it was turned towards me. Nothing I did was right and no matter how hard I worked to keep everything perfect he'd find something wrong with it." Tears are beginning to form in the corners of her eyes the longer she tells you about her husband.

All you can do is sit there and listen, unsure of how to respond. You've never seen Joel angry, let alone as angry as she is describing her husband.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Jill continues, "He would yell and call me names. Tell me how worthless I am and he would throw things, break things. He never got physical with me so I took it. I took the names, I took the insults, all of it. But I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to stand up for myself. And-and-" She chokes up not able to finish her sentence.

This is when you reach out your arm to touch her shoulder. An attempt at a reassuring gesture that just has her jumping back instead. She recovers and looks up at you with apologetic eyes. You give a small smile back.

"He hurt me, badly. I thought he wouldn't stop, it just kept happening. I think I blacked out because when I came to he was gone. I didn't know what else to do so I came over here. I think I should go to the hospital but I can't go without him. I just don't know what to do." She was fully crying now, her words almost indiscernible as she sobbed.

You offered her a tissue which she took and sobbed even more into. Unsure if you should try and comfort her again, you decided it was better to try and this time she didn't shy away. Instead she leaned into the touch and you stroked her shoulder slowly. The action seemed to calm her down remarkably and she eventually calmed down enough that you felt it was a good time to finally respond.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry we don't get choices or options. I'm so sorry we are forced to submit to insane ideals and insane people." She lets out another sob. "Listen, Joel doesn't work too far from here and if you think you are strong enough we can go to him and he can take you to the hospital. As long as we have a man with us, they should treat you."

"You mean...go out alone."

You debate what you had just suggested, I guess you had suggested going out alone but it wouldn't be too far of a journey.

"It's not too far and we aren't alone we have each other. We can wear disguises if it makes you feel better. I just want to be able to get you the help you need."

"Are you sure Joel will help me?"

You nod, "If I ask him, he will do it."

She frowns a bit at your statement, you didn't realize how perfect you were making your relationship seem after she just poured her heart out to you.

"Listen, he will help, I promise."

So, the two of you donned some hood and masks in an attempt to cover your hair and feminine features. You also gave Jill an ice pack to soothe her injuries for the time being.

"Ready?" You glanced at her trying to decipher what she was thinking. She stood there still looking very guarded. "Here, we can hold hands, make sure the other doesn't get lost." You offer your hand to her with a smile, she smiles back and takes it.

Leaving your apartment the two of you make your way to the ground floor. It wasn't often that you left the apartment but when you did it was obviously always accompanied by Joel. Something about leaving on your own felt freeing but very scary at the same time.

The train station was a short walk from your building, maybe half a block. Joel always told you exactly where he was working that day and what he was doing. You liked to hear his stories of the outside world and it made you feel safe to know he was safe.

As the two of you got closer to the bustling crowds trying to catch their trains, you felt Jill tense up next to you. You glance at her and squeeze her hand tighter. This draws her attention to you.

"Not far now, we'll be fine."

You didn't know how much you would regret this sentence because as soon as you caught sight of Joel's salt and pepper hair an explosion busted out the wall a mere hundred or so feet to the left of you.

Through the hole in the wall came a group of rebel aliens, screaming and yelling something. With how loud and close the explosion was you ears were ringing. You glanced around at the crowd who was now running around in fear. Trying to catch a glimpse of your husband in the mess, you felt a hand tug yours. Looking down you saw Jill on the ground, curled into herself. She was crying again.

You jumped into action trying to pull her up so no one stepped on her, but she wouldn't budge. "Jill please, get up we need to get somewhere safer!"

She still didn't move, you looked around desperately. Either you were going to find Joel or someone else that could help. That's when you caught a glimpse of him. There was no way he could hear you over the yells and chaos but you called his name anyway.

And it was almost like his ears were trained to hear your voice and your voice alone because not long after beginning to call out to him, he locked eyes with him. He took a double take, convincing himself it wasn't really you. Then his eyebrows furrowed realizing he wasn't imagining things and quickly pushed through the crowd towards you.

He was now stood in front of you, your face in his hands as he looked you over. "Baby what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The questions came quickly, too quickly to answer so you nodded instead.

"Joel, I'm fine. I came to get your help and then the explosion..." You trailed off not sure how to explain yourself now that you had put yourself in such danger.

"Tell me later, come on, I gotta get you out of here." He tries to drag you out but you pull him back, stopping him.

"I can't go, we need to get Jill."

"Jill? Our neighbor, Jill?" You nod and gesture to her still on the ground.

He looks confused but doesn't question it, instead he walks over to Jill.

"Jill? Can you walk?" She shakes her head no.

"Can I carry you, we really need to get somewhere safe." She takes minute and eyes him closely, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Finally, she nods.

So he picks her up carefully and turns to you, "Hold onto my shirt and don't let go." You nod and grab ahold of the plaid shirt he was currently wearing.

That's how the three of you made your way out of the chaos. But Joel didn't stop until you were at least a block away from the danger before stopping and setting Jill carefully down onto her shaking legs.

You quickly made your way to her to help her stabilize herself and when she did you looked back at Joel. His back was turned to you and his hands were in his hair. He wasn't happy, you knew that, so you didn't speak just kept trying to calm down Jill.

Finally he turned back around, eyes filled with something you had never seen before. At least something you had never seen in Joel.

He breathed deeply, "I need to get you home." He said simply.

"Okay, but Jill needs to go to the hospital first."

"What?" The curtness of his voice had you reeling back a bit, was he angry? You had never really seen Joel angry before, not at you at least.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before he said something he would regret.

"We will take her to the hospital, make sure she is in safe hands, then we are going home."

"But what if she needs me?" The look on his face at your response should've had you stopping at 'but', so you just nodded.

And that's what you did. Made sure Jill was in safe hands and that her family was called to help her and you were dragged home. It was less than twenty minutes before Joel was pushing you back out the door and dragging you home.

You didn't protest but you also didn't know what to say to him. So as the two of you entered your apartment, you went to explain yourself. Instead your explanations were muffled by Joel's lips on yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was unsure you were really there. Maybe unsure you were really okay?

"Joel-" You mumble into his lips as he doesn't stop kissing yours. A grunt sounds from him as he hears you say his name.

He doesn't want to talk it seems because his lips stay on yours and his hands find the back of your thighs lifting you up into arms. You help him by jumping and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your arms find their place behind his neck.

Joel carries you through the apartment, lips never letting up. They only disconnect as he drops you onto your bed and quickly takes off his shirt. Leaning back over you his knee is placed between your legs and you gasp at how close he is, his body heat, making you feel even warmer than you already did.

"I thought I lost you." He says simply but you can see in his eyes he really means those words.

But you don't have a chance to respond because his lips are back on you. This time trailing down your jaw to your neck, only to be stopped by the fabric of your shirt. Joel lets out another grunt as he grabs the bottom of shirt and quickly whips it off of you like it had offended him.

As soon as the shirt is off of you his lips are back on your neck, now trailing to the places he really wanted to get to. Your bra is unclasped quicker than you can even process what is happening. His mouth instantly biting at the sensitive skin of your breast, biting at it only a bit before licking down to your nipple.

You gasp as his mouth latches onto the sensitive bud. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that moment. Sure you wanted this, you always wanted Joel but the danger of the day was catching up with you. Now you needed him, needed to feel protected, loved.

"Joel please, I-" Hearing you beg had him unlatching his mouth from your breast and looking up at you.

For almost the first time in an hour he finally addresses you, "What do you want baby?"

"You Joel, I need you. I-I'm sorry." The apology wasn't what he was asking for but it was what he needed to hear because as soon as those two words left your lips he was returning his attention to your chest.

He now attached himself to your other breast, giving that nipple what it had been missing. His hands worked at the button of your pants, undoing it and the zipper quickly. He shoved them down your legs with your help, lips never leaving your flushed skin.

As soon as your pants were down his hands were playing with the hem of your underwear. The thin fabric causing his touches to feel even more intense as he teased you just a bit. But he knew neither of you could wait much longer so he pushed them to the side and started stroking your clit.

Slow circles at first which had you arching your back, chest pushed even farther into his mouth as he continued to take care of both of your nipples. He stroked your clit a few more times before letting his fingers dip further down, teasing your slit.

You were wet, very wet, so they slid easily against you and you gasped. You could feel him smirk against your nipple. But this time he detached himself from it and returned his mouth to yours.

He worked a finger into you in time with your kissing. Then two, then three. They curved against your insides, you moaned into the kiss and bit down on his lip as he brushed the perfect spot inside of you.

Your head tossed back as you got closer to your peak the more he stroked you g spot. When you gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough to draw blood, he pulled his fingers out of you. Leaving you at the brink of an orgasm. You let out a whine as your head snapped back up to look at him.

"I don't like punishing you, doll, but tonight you're gonna need some discipline." You didn't argue just let your head drop slightly. He brought his down and caught your lips in his, forcing your head back up.

You didn't notice but he had unbuckled his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down just enough to let his member loose. He doesn't take your panties off either, instead he leaves them how they were when he was fingering you as his tip teases your entrance. You were still very sensitive from your denied orgasm so your hips jerked up at the contact.

He pretended not to notice and slapped his dick onto your clit, causing you to buck up once again. He pulled back, eyes searching yours. Joel had this look about him when the two of you had sex, something between dominance and love but right now it was a fire. One you hadn't seen before and it made you nervous but oh so excited. It had you gushing between your legs.

You bit your lip as his tip pushed past your entrance, sliding in easily with how wet you were, not to mention his thick fingers being there only minutes earlier.

"Always so tight." Joel grunts as he hilts himself fully inside of you. He stays like that reveling in the feeling before slowly pulling himself almost fully out of you just to snap his hips forward back into you.

He continues this and it is so aggressive that you need to grip onto his shoulders again for any form of support. He had never fucked you like this before. It had your brain fogging up with pleasure.

Your peak catches up with you quickly. You whimper, needing the release you have been waiting for. Joel notices and brings his thumb down to rub your clit a few times. Your heart swells thinking he is going to let you cum. But it is too good to be true because just as you begin to clench around him he is pulling away and out of you.

"Told you, you need to remember how to be a good girl first." The name has you swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I am Joel, please, I need you inside me." He stutters at your words, but recovers quickly, flipping you over onto your stomach.

"You don't just get to cum whenever you want, gonna have to work for it pretty girl." He kneads your ass as he speaks, clearly liking his new view.

"I'll do anything." You speak so quietly, Joel almost misses it. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Want you to suck my dick so badly right now, you have no idea. But this-" His hand lands onto your round ass with a smack, "-this is too tempting right now."

Another smack and his member is returning between your legs as he pushes into you. You moan loudly at the intrusion, constantly getting more and more sensitive the more he denies you of what you need.

He thrusts in an out of you at the same speed as earlier. When his hips snap into yours, he lands a smack onto your ass. He relishes the feeling of you sucking him in each time he spanks you. The feeling causing you to clench onto his dick.

The hand not making your skin burn red is holding your hip so tightly the skin is turning white, you there will be bruises there tomorrow. Hell, at this rate you'll have all kinds of marks tomorrow.

"Want to fill you up, need to see you full of my cum." Although you knew what had gotten into Joel, you had never seen this side of him and it was almost jarring how much of a change it was. Was this the true him? Was he scared to show this side of himself? Scared you couldn't handle it? Fuck was he wrong.

"Please, I need your cum." And you decided to truly show him he was wrong. You liked this side of him and you wanted him to know that.

Joel grunted snapping his hips into yours so roughly it had you seeing stars. You could tell he was close and unsurprisingly so were you. You pushed your hips back into his and he was too far gone to deny you any longer.

"Joel, baby, please can I cum now?"

"Let go for me, I need you clench around this dick as I fill you with my seed. Want to see you all round and pregnant for me." His words send you over the edge with the orgasm you have been waiting for all night.

You clench like a vice onto his cock, the feeling sending him over his edge as well. The hand that was spanking you is sent up your spine to grip the back of your hair pulling your head back so he can attach his lips to yours.

You each moan into each other's mouths as he continues to pump you full of his seed. He works you both through your orgasms as your lips work against each other as well. Your breaths come out ragged as he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes are closed as he speaks, "Did I hurt you baby?"

"No! I uh, I actually enjoyed it very much." He laughs at your response.

"I'm glad." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Your brows furrow.

"For getting mad and getting rough with you, I never wanted to show you this side of me."

"Hey, look at me." He does. "I like every side of you. I should be the one apologizing right now. I got myself into danger by going against the rules."

Joel sighs and swallows the lump that was sitting in the back of his throat.

"I love you." Is all he can think to say.

"I love you." Is all you need to respond.

[weebsinstash]

I haven't posted about it in ages but I still think CONSTANTLY about a soulmate scenario between a reluctant Reader and a yandere Lex Luthor because... he's just such an intelligent and powerful man that, like girlypop, he could genuinely make or break your entire fucking life in a laundry list of ways

Things like... in the very very very beginning, when you've met him and he knows you're soulmates but you're still putting him off and rejecting him, you see something on TV about, politicians are proposing a bill where a soulmate can make legal and medical decisions for their bonded if that person is unable to make those decisions themselves, some bill named after some random metropolis citizen where their soulmate lover died because the next of kin family they were estranged from were allowed to make medical decisions instead and their lover died, like it's something you would totally see on the news for real.

Then, months and months later after you're in a relationship with Lex, he's hosting a party and you see some of those very same politicians there, overhearing them thanking Lex for his contributions. Snapcut to a day you really REALLY do something to defy him, either you're rejecting him or trying to break up with him or trying to run away or, all of the above but also you do legitimately have some mental health issues, and here Lex is, now having the full legal power to say, "oh honey, now you have to go to the hospital :( why would you make me have to do this :(" and you get to go on your Super Duper Funtime Adventure to a private clinic he coincidentally has made some major financial donations to.

Genuinely I feel like I've mentioned this before but I feel like there's a real... personal horror in the idea of "my yandere took me to a doctor and that doctor diagnosed me with stuff and I have no idea if I genuinely have those disorders or if my yandere paid the doctor to say those things" because the twist is tasty in either direction??? Is your yandere delusional and trying to chalk up your rejections to extreme anxiety and other grasped straws and insists you be medicated so you can love them? Is your yandere just trying to legitimately help, and you actually genuinely did see a legitimate non biased doctor? Is your yandere actually totally just lying and they just want you to be more obedient and reliant on them, have doubts in yourself and trust them alone, letting them make decisions for you? It's all so good...and then not knowing would stress you out and make you paranoid even MORE...

but then I also think of like. How he could genuinely try to make gestures to win you over and things he could do that are positive. You two are just getting to know each other and you're extremely reluctant to do anything and, while internally he wants to do these quite grand little expenses for you, he's willing to analyze you and calculate a plan of making smaller gestures over time. At least, smaller in the scale that he's like one of the top richest and smartest creatures on his entire planet, and that's a planet with aliens and magical creatures on it, but, you know. He'll try and tone it down a little-

I've had this idea where like... he gives you this expensive bracelet or ring or necklace or watch, some sort of accesory, as a gift and, being the self loathing person that you are, you're out on the town one day and you walk into a higher end jewlery store because you feel like punishing yourself by trying to figure out how much money was spent on your gift, and, through whatever means, the store accuses you of theft (because you're just a dirty poor person, why would you have this nice thing unless you swiped it) and maybe they even have the audacity to technically assault you and take it off of your person

Somewhere on the other side of the world in a conference room, there's a hidden earpiece buzzing, "Mr Luthor we have a situation-" and he's on a private jet within the half-hour. He gets there and you've either been arrested and put in a cell or he gets there to find you getting manhandled by police because you're technically resisting arrest by panicking, "please just look at the footage, i didn't do anything wrong-" and he flies into a rage at the way you're being jerked and tugged and twisted until you're crying out that they're hurting you

Police department? Sued. That store? Sued. Bankrupted. Bought out. Bulldozed. It's a gentrified downtown sculpture garden now. Lex buys you another gift that's even nicer than the first since the first one has now been "tainted" with this bad memory, plus he's now indirectly (but, of course, with calculations) has made a very VERY public warning to anyone who would dare to harm you in any way whatsoever.

He's a very, "sweetie didn't you ask for no pickles? Should I have them killed for you? It wouldn't be any trouble at all-" kind of guy

Lex Luthor who catches wind of confidential news that a mysterious asteroid has crashed down on an island off the coast of Fake DC Country and he plans a research expedition to study its contents BUT ALSO that same day he's like "darling have you ever gotten to eat freshly caught crab before?" and suddenly you're jet-setting off to a tropical island, because what kind of evil supervillain future-husband would he be if he didn't turn his research expedition into potential alien activity into a bonus vacation with his pookie?

You're wandering the beaches or exploring the tide when you find this pretty little gemstone that may or may not turn out to be platinum Kryptonite that was brought to Earth by the meteorite and you're now the first organic creature that has touched it.

I like the idea of, you develop these powers and suddenly you have all these new potential problems but also possibilities? Sure you're suddenly under Batman and the government's radar, but, think of all the good you can do now that you can fly, have super strength invulnerability, the works? Meanwhile Lex is simultaneously fascinated, curious, proud, but also, wanting to research this, see if it can be replicated, exploited.

Part of me is like, would he be 500% against you going into danger or would at the very most try and harvest your blood or something, OR, now that he knows there's really not much danger to you, he's like "oh, you want to be a little superhero? Oh, how adorable sweetie, let me help design your costume-" and he's, hm, I dunno if it would be entirely incorrect to say he's lowkey using you like a tool in the sense of, you're testing things he develops, he's observing and researching your powers, he's getting to watch you "play and have fun" while also gaining new research data from you, and also making connections with powerful people. He may even... pull some strings to have you do something in his favor. "Oh darling what's wrong? Oh no, that facility you attacked because you got 'information' they were terrorists were actually innocent people and now that country has been seized by hostile powers that have coincidentally agreed to let my company mine lithium there? Oh nooooooo :( darling I'm so sorry, we all make mistakes, I still love you-" or he just like, makes more business deals because he receives, shall we say, secondhand clout from any and all of your accomplishments should you become a hero

Lest we forget, there's a version of Lex Luthor who once built a powerplant under a Metropolis neighborhood and made it deliberately look suspicious as fuck just because he wanted Superman to attack it and make a fool of himself and upset the public because "what the fuck superman why did you just ruin this totally helpful normal thing just because Lex Luthor made it, thanks dickhead". Luthor is incredibly calculating, driven, petty, and has deep deep pockets and plenty of resources for any possible fantasy he has, and also he's 1000% willing to crash out if it involves Superman WHICH IS ALSO WHY I think it would be incredibly hilarious if he's just BEYOND PISSED that you developing powers means you need mentorship from Superman and Lex is forced to watch the two of you have like.... Genuine Moments

You develop the ability to fly for the first time and you're just high up in air jerking around shrieking unable to control yourself and you have no idea what to do and while Lex is still trying to formulate a way to get you down, here comes Kal, able to fly up, gently grab you, hold you in place as he talks you down, teaches you how to float, holding your hands and speaking so softly and kindly as he teaches you how to descend and the two of you sloooooooowly dip down until your feet are on the ground again

Cut to Lex being absolutely furious because not only did he "have that handled" but why is Superman feeling so emboldened to place his hands on yours, on your shoulders, giving you a comforting hug when you burst into tears about how scared you were and thanking him for saving you? You and Superman are like tenderly platonicly hugging and there's reporters and a little crowd nearby doing the whole "Awwww 🥺❤️" and meanwhile Lex is over here turning red as a tomato just absolutely steaming 'ugh I can't believe Superman showed up I hate him I hate him I hate him L + ratio + you're a loser I hate you die die die die'

Kal opens his mouth and offers to be your teacher and here's Lex trying to be a big man, storming up all but bumping chests with the guy, "➡️I⬅️ can help take care of my own mate, Superman 😡" meanwhile you're standing there ACTUALLY EMBARRASSED BY LEX, like can you even imagine the levels of "open wound, insert salt" of Lex puffing up against Superman because he's fucking jealous and then you're like "omg Lex you can't be mean to Superman! He just helped me!! Apologize, what the fuck?!" and you're clearly like, a fan or a person who looks up to the boy in blue and said boyscout may even brush a lil bit bc, you know, his mama did try to raise a kind honest man and, he sure is happy his efforts are appreciated-

Have I mentioned I see Lex Luthor having an eidetic memory, as in the condition where you never forget anything, which I think would make him really terrifying to deal with, actually. He'll literally be able to study and memorize every single thing about you, everything he notices, everything you say, do, all your little behaviors, quirks, habits, addictions, and it'd also make him a monster during arguments because what are you gonna do, tell the supergenius he's misremembering? Dude is over here inventing robots like Amazo and curing cancer AND he can never forget? Why not just fucking lobotomize me since you wanna make me feel so dumb-

[asarigg]

About: Part 1

this section is meant to be for topics that I didn't include either because it didn't feel very organic with what was being talked about or... honestly I don't remember. Anyway, I hope these can also bring new ideas for you.

YEARS ALONE

Koujaku received his tattoo around the age of 15, and was at least 23 when he returned to the island, leaving a gap of around eight years that he spent completely alone, dealing with his trauma, without help. We don’t know anything about how he lived since then, what kind of contact he had with the rest of his family, because he says that he lost the contact he had with the rest of his family, when he traveled to Midorijima and the border was closed, not before. In those years he had to learn to cut hair, work on his own and gradually separate himself from his family. I always imagined that Koujaku would be homeschooled, instead of going to a normal school, since he was chosen as the heir. Maybe before that he would go to a regular school with other children. Without having a normal education he probably had to go back to studying as an adult to be able to get his degree. I mention some hcs about this later on too.

SCRAP

Observing the elements that appear in his mind, I’ve always wanted to have a bad ending that would involve the Scrap environment, it’s ideal for horror, can you blame me? When Aoba enters, he’s in a dark room, without furniture or decoration. When he goes to another room it turns out to be exactly the same as the previous one, and so on, countless more rooms until finally the appearance changes. For Koujaku being in that house felt like an endless labyrinth, all the rooms seemed equally oppressive, equally caging, hence why they all look the same. And all the doors have a dragon painted on them, wherever he looked, wherever he went, there was no escape, just another dark room, uninviting, cold, strange, disturbing, hostile, suffocating, all while some hairlike snakes chased him, demonstrating just how engraved the image of Ryuuhou is in his mind, torturing him and keeping him prisoner. The dragon painted on the doors has five claws, meaning it's an imperial dragon. The imperial dragon is supposed to represent the chinese emperor, so other dragons had four or three claws. Japanese dragons have a standard of three claws, and you can see three claws on the dragon that is on Ryuuhou's kimono. Maybe this is just meant to be Ryuuhou seeming like a regular, standard person (with a bunch of skulls around his neck uh), but in Koujaku's mind, he reveals his true form, almighty, powerful, someone way superior to him.

When the next room finally changes its appearance, Aoba finds a teenage Koujaku being tattooed, strands of hair enveloping him in a cocoon in a bed drenched with his own blood. And how ironic that the very tattoo that keeps him trapped and transforms him is made of hair.

Also, don’t you find it curious that Koujaku is reborn from a cocoon giving him a connection with butterflies and that Aoba’s dad told him about those big blue butterflies when he was a kid? Yeah… My butterfly kouao art was canon after all, they're not beating the allegations. The butterfly on the vip card of the club too…

DEVELOPMENT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. PATH TO HEALING: part 1

We talked already about Aoba and Koujaku’s relationship, symbolically, already starting long before you even get to their route. Obviously the route is a crisis in their friendship, but the feelings were already emerging long before, so it’s also a "breakup in their romantic relationship". The lack of communication and trust is what makes everything start to fall apart, and given the fact that he leaves with some women right at the beginning, it gives space to the infidelity and jealousy themes. I also have my opinions about this scene, but it’s nothing we haven’t mentioned already and they’re not things unique to them but in the entire game. I think it’s a terrible mistake that all this happens immediately after they walk through the door into PJ. They don’t give you any time to get used to the new environment, when we had Koujaku swearing his loyalty to Aoba and telling him that they would do everything they could to put an end to Toue’s cartoon villain evil plans.

I really think it would have been a good thing if they could wander the streets for a while, making you see that Koujaku is committed to this instead of making him fuck off as soon as he sees a woman, helping with the pace of the story and the feelings you should be having about them. He gives such a carefree image that it feels weird especially coming after the talk he gives to Aoba, it doesn’t feel true to himself.

And yes, it’s true that they leave crumbs, like describing his smile as forced, and that he has a strange expression when he sees the woman with the tattoo, but they are things that could be done later perfectly, and I even think it could work better, because it would leave you more disoriented, which is precisely what you should be thinking at this moment, better than a “okay man whatever”. You don’t even think about these details the first time you read it so the impression is more impactful. I don’t think Koujaku would walk away so soon, even if they ran into the girls as soon as they entered. Ryuuhou ruined his life, as well as his father, it’s not just any family problem, but a snowball of traumas that has been rolling around since his childhood. After years of working on forgetting him and stop seeking revenge, seeing a tattoo probably made by him must have felt like a kick in the balls, like seeing a ghost. He would be surprised and confused, of course, but I don’t know if he would go with them right away. His impulsiveness is important, but as an adult this is more nuanced. It’s not like one of the “provocations” he was responding to before, it’s no direct danger, it’s just a tattoo that might have been made by him, while he also has to keep appearances up next to Aoba. When faced with a personal dilemma he thinks about it a lot more, he hesitates. Maybe he needed time to process all this, to really think about what to do now that his memories are more vivid than ever.

Which btw after Koujaku sees Aoba sleeping in his bed you never see him with women (willingly lol). The ones in the beginning of his route don’t count because that’s for lore reasons :smug face:

Maybe as a result of this, Aoba would notice that his attitude after saying goodbye to those two women has changed, that he seems more quiet and serious, nervous, looking for excuses when Aoba asks him. Maybe later, when they decided to go to rest, instead of going to Glitter with Aoba, he would leave him alone and go see these women after exchanging numbers or something like that. That way, you can feel the role that Koujaku has as Aoba’s friend, and the tension and mystery are built step by step, not throwing it all at once.

Aoba not only gets angry with him when he chooses to go with those women, but rather he gets disappointed, he gets tired. Being in the critical situation they are in, in which they basically have to infiltrate “enemy territory” and overthrow the brainwashing empire of a millionaire bastard, you’d expect him to get angry way more forcefully. Of course we later learn why he does it, but at this moment the only thing that would cross his mind would be to hold it against him, grab his arm and stop him, but none of that happens.

But Aoba’s initial annoyance quickly fades, he seems rather disappointed, sad, especially when he sees them enter a nightclub. Because Koujaku has chosen to go with them instead of staying by his side, leaving him alone. Whenever he goes with these women, Aoba sees him from behind, from a distance. A cold and impersonal posture representative of the distance that is growing between them, as if he was something unattainable for him.

[dykealloy]

spoilers up to the end of dressrosa arc here but. I can't stop thinking about how Law takes on Rosinante's will. Corasan freed him from Doflamingo and the marines and the world government and everyone that ever could have touched him at the time, but has Law really felt free? “Everything I do until I die represents what Corasan achieved” is sweet until you recognise that Law is willing (and planned) to go to the grave for that belief. Until Doflamingo dies there is always a part of him stuck in that treasure chest, constrained by what Law felt happened to Corasan due to him that day.

It's crazy how textbook survivors guilt victim Law is (I’m new here so I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t the first time this has been brought up), but let’s just quickly go over some symptoms:

Obsessive thoughts about the traumatic event ✅ (will go over this in greater detail below)

A sense of disconnection or detachment/need to isolate oneself from others ✅ (Law doesn't fully isolate himself but he definitely has his walls up at all times, though there are often subtle hints of him enjoying the company of the people he chooses to surround himself with. He is notably more reserved, emotionally unavailable, cold and distant than others around him, and watching closely you'll notice that even physically he has a tendency to situate himself three steps behind the group)

Insomnia, nightmares, flashbacks of the traumatic event ✅ (if we can assume some of his backstory expressed in Dressrosa are flashbacks, and also assuming that the perpetual eyeliner he wears are covering some pretty heavy eyebags. Also mention that the only time we see him resting is against Sunny's mast on the way to Dressrosa - and that was 1. a filler episode, and 2. if he was sleeping, it was very quickly interrupted by an attack by petplay guy - a nightmare in of itself)

Irritability and anger ✅ (though elements of this could just be attributed to Law's personality or a natural response to the straw hat's shenanigans, as well as Luffy's total inability to stick to a reasonable plan)

Feelings of despair and thoughts of suicide ✅ (that's Law's Dressrosa arc babe)

Now, there's many reasons why Law is unable to move past this guilt (an apparent lack of therapists in one piece being one of them) - but his inability to believe in unconditional love is likely the biggest offender.

Law may have started off (initially) with one of the most fortunate, stable beginnings, with a loving family and a big house in a rich country (wealth of which was built off the back of lies and corruption and the murder of innocent future generations - we'll get there). But he had a mother and a father who loved and nurtured Law (and were both highly respected doctors in their own right who citizens trusted and relied on). Law's happy beginnings really juxtapose the unfathomable horror that had been lying in wait in Flevance.

Even when shit started to hit the fan, at a very young age (<10 yrs old), Law was already stepping up and showing love for his little sister (lying to her when she was on her deathbed, knowing full well he would likely face the same fate after reading his charts, putting on a brave face for her so she wouldn't be afraid when the screams began to reach their front door, hiding her away when soldiers sieged their home and rushing to check on his parents). Given everything that happened in Flevance, it's completely understandable that, while Law will likely never forget the love his family gave him, remembering it became twisted in the lasting memories of his home — parents riddled with bullet holes. a closet holding a sick little sister waiting for him in a house engulfed by flames. stumbling through a town of friends, neighbours, just... people he used to pass by on the street, now all dead.

Seeing hell, knowing why and how it transpired, who were responsible (spoilers, the World Government; the same body that most citizens believe exist to protect them — yeah, sister "a merciful hand of salvation waiting to help" were perhaps the worst possible combination of words you could have left Law with here. Likely instrumental in having him lose his faith "I don't believe in anything anymore."), knowing he is the only survivor, and fated to die anyway due to the terminal illness that is slowly killing him because some figureheads years back were greedy and the governing powers above the figureheads were willing to cover up everything if it meant garnering a portion of wealth and maintaining influence and control. It's beyond grief, beyond rage. And there's absolutely nowhere Law can put it. No one he can retaliate against. Who could come out of hell knowing this and not want to see the world burn?

So, smart little Law escapes under a pile of bodies and goes to the one person infamously revered for being in the business of that kind of thing. And boy oh boy I can only begin to imagine how a young and impressionable Law - fresh from a genocide, with a hole in his heart and a hatred for everything still alive - had his concept of love warped whilst surviving those two years around Doflamingo and his family. A family where members are only welcome so far as they are useful to Doflamingo and his aspirations. Of course Law's going to pick up some fucked up ideas about how love works outside this little white fence he grew up and watched burn down.

Then. Enter Corazon.

Their relationship may begin on shaky legs (near-juvenicide via defenestration in a failed attempt to ward Law away from sticking around) but Corazon quickly becomes the one person in the world Law can trust and rely on again. And Rosinante can only do so much in terms of healing and guiding this broken kid (yes, his position both as Doffy's brother and as a double agent made things difficult, but need I mention he was only 26! 26 when he died!) but he showed Law kindness and compassion when he was at his lowest. He had faith in the existence of a cure that Law was long past believing. Was determined to help him, even against Law's wishes, even if it meant having Law relive his trauma over and over again. Corasan becomes incredibly important to Law, giving him a reason to live beyond just destruction and revenge.

After the rest of the world had long turned his back on him, when he had been nothing but a dying puddle of rage and self-destructive nihilism, Corasan saved Law. He told Law "Aishiteru" - a very rare way of saying "I love you", never used casually due to the depth of its meaning and the massive connotations behind it - in essence translating to "I love you so much I cannot possibly imagine life without you". There's a high likelihood that at his age, Law had never heard these words before, and probably didn't quite understand the weight of Rosinante saying it at the time.

Corasan frees Law, then he dies at the hand of Doflamingo, Rosinante's own brother.

All Rosinante wanted was for this poor kid to go on and live his life unburdened by his more than turbulent history and his connection to Doffy, but I think for all his planning, Rosinante's one critical error was well and truly underestimating how much him loving Law, and loving Law to the extent he did, would mean to that kid. Law really went from that ten year old hollow void sentiment of "why does anyone or anything at all get to exist when everything that was important to me is dead, burned to ashes and wiped off the map" to "I should have died at age thirteen and every second I've lived since then, I've only lived as a result of Corasan's efforts and as a personal affront to Doflamingo." This time, Law has a tangible, heinous 10 foot monster of a target to direct 1. his grief and anger and 2. justice for Cora towards, and this time he has the power and will to follow through. More than that, he believes Corasan sacrificed himself for him because he's a D. (someone destined to rain down destruction on the gods - Doflamingo, in this case). Corazon becomes a saint that Law dedicates the rest of his life to. Which is something that Law is not vocal about to just anyone he comes across, but is so unbelievably obvious once you know what you're looking at — his tattoos, his jolly roger, his crew, his ship, his ambitions, his beliefs, his fucking. custom-made Corazon jacket. all of it for this man that showed Law - at a time when he hated the world and everything in it - love. For all of six months. max.

And his whole life and personality and behaviour CONTINUES to be guided by this trauma — the way he's reckless with himself, his borderline self-destructive actions, the way he keeps telling himself that none of it would've been worth it unless Corasan's last wishes are fulfilled, the way he surrounds himself with bright people and soft things, the way it doesn't register that his crew genuinely loves and cares about him, the way he's terrified of losing anyone important to him again (and I would say this is one of his biggest downfalls as a Captain compared to someone like Luffy - who is just as reckless as Law is but trusts his crew, doesn't try to send them away, isn't afraid to let them grow and risk their lives for him like Law is with the heart crew), his inability to take a damn compliment. The way he doesn't understand Luffy AT ALL.

Doesn't understand that this alliance that he's brokered means nothing to Luffy because he sees him as FRIEND. No transactions or mutually beneficial pacts necessary. Doesn't get that he's the one that inadvertently asked Luffy to be his friend, thus breaking a long chain of people (mostly parental figures and siblings) abandoning or leaving Luffy behind/no one taking the first initiative to ask to be around him. Law is complete and utterly in the dark as to why someone would ever bat for him when the stakes are this high for no other reason than because they like them and care about them as a person.

Luffy, with his playground rules where he loves unconditionally and will take on the world for a friend he made five minutes ago, perplexes Law with his sheer simplicity.

When Sengoku tells Law, "Don't try to find a reason for someone's love", I do NOT think he takes it well. Because there must be a reason. There has to be. Between the two options of Corasan saving Law's life and freeing him because he believed in the will of D., or Rosinante saving him for no other reason than because Law was a kid that was loveable, and because he loved him unconditionally... everything we've learned about how Law functions up until this point suggests the former will always make more sense to him, and after everything he's been through, is most likely less painful for him to accept.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Could I possibly request a bit of angst like maybe Teruko, Xander, Whit, and one other drdt character that I can’t think of (all of them separate of course) finding their s/o injured and bleeding out from an ambush and how they couldn’t tell who did it from how fast it happened while they’re being patched up ? Hopefully this is cool with you :)

Don’t worry, I’m cool with this! I wrote this so the ambush takes place during the killing game, I hope that’s ok! Also I have no idea which other character you were referring to so I added Veronika because I thought it would be fun to add her! Hope you enjoy!

Teruko, Xander, and Whit with an S/O who was injured in an ambush

Gn! Reader

Warnings: blood, injury, mentions of death but no actual death occurs, mentions of torture in Veronica’s part, mentions of drugging, mentions of the movie Hostel in Veronika’s part (it’s horror movie about torture so I figured it deserved a warning)

-Knowing her luck, she was most likely the one to find you, and surprisingly, she’s not as hysterical as you might think she would be. I mean, she’s still pretty freaked out, but she knows that right now her main priority is getting you medical attention, and focusing on her emotions might get in the way of helping you

-Her first step is to get you to the infirmary before you bleed out, she’s surprisingly strong so she can carry you there just fine. On her way she questions you on who attacked you and if you were hurt anywhere she couldn’t see, once she gets an answer to those questions her main priority becomes keeping you awake

-It wouldn’t be until you fully lost consciousness that she begins to freak out, she was distracting herself by distracting you, but now that you’re out she has no way to keep herself from acknowledging how dire the situation is

-She doesn’t trust herself enough to try to heal you on her own (bad luck and all that), so she either forces Arturo to do it or she forces Monotv to do it, although since you don’t know who attacked you, he’s reluctant to let a potential murder go to waste. Considering how badly you were injured, it takes awhile to heal you, and nobody’s sure if you’ll even make it.

-Through it all, Teruko seems to have completely shut down her emotions. She refuses to cry or show fear in front of the others, not now, not after how they’ve treated her. She won’t show weakness, especially since the person who tried to kill you is still alive and free.

-Inside however, she’s a wreck. She’s lost the few people she allowed herself to get close to in the past, if she loses you she doesn’t know what she’ll do. Probably kill whoever killed you before Monotv can get his paws on them, it’s not like she was ever going to escape this place anyway.

-She doesn’t leave the infirmary area until she here’s news about your condition, good or bad. If you’re gonna go, she’s going to be there with you, she won’t let you die alone.

-Once she gets the news that you’ll live, she breathes the biggest sigh of relief anyone could possibly imagine. She stays by your side until you wake up, but when you do she has no idea what to say. I mean, what are you supposed to say to someone who’s had a near death experience? So she opts to stay silent, instead hugging you carefully until you say something

-Once she’s sure you’ll be alright, she makes it her life’s mission to find out who hurt you. She’s not above getting aggressive with the others if they refuse to cooperate with her search, especially since it comes down to your safety. She most likely won’t pick a physical fight with whoever did it if she find out, but she will make sure they can’t come within 30 yards of you ever again, and she makes sure everybody else knows what they’ve done too.

-There’s no way in hell Teruko is gonna let you out of her sight for the rest of the game, even with those who she knows didn’t attack you. She was already pretty protective of you given the circumstances, but your near death experience has increased her protectiveness ten-fold. Nobody except her is allowed near you anymore, no matter how much you protest. Call her overprotective all you like, but she’s not playing when it comes to your safety.

-She won’t tell you how scared she is of you dying or getting attacked again, not unless she’s on the verge of sleep when you ask her about it. But it’s easy to tell how scared she is from the way she grips you in her sleep, or how she pulls you closer whenever anyone passes you two by

-Just…stay alive for her, ok? She can’t afford to lose another person she loves, not like this.

-Veronika could tell something was wrong long before she found you, call it a sixth sense or something. She’s very perceptive so I think she could guess that someone was going to try to kill, she just didn’t realize you’d be the victim

-When she does find you, she is scarily calm. Like, there is not a single ounce of emotion showing on her face. You couldn’t begin to guess what she’s thinking right now.

-Without hesitation, she picks you up and books it for the infirmary a lot faster than you would imagine someone carrying a limp body would be able to run. Veronika knows better than anyone how quickly a person can bleed out, so all she’s focusing on is keeping you conscious until she can get you medical help. She doesn’t bother asking you who did it, she doesn’t want to upset you any further and besides, she could figure it out on her own later. Instead, she tries to engage in some regular conversation to help try keeping you calm but awake.

-You best believe Monotv is fixing you up, Veronika has no way of confirming Arturo’s innocence in this moment so she won’t allow him near you, and she’s scary enough that even Monotv can’t deny her request.

-Now that you’re unconscious, she knows that she won’t be of any help to you. So while Monotv is trying to save you, she goes on a witch hunt for your assailant.

-Nobody, and I mean nobody, is safe from her wrath. She’s gone back to acting like her regular, bubbly (disturbing) self, but anyone within a ten mile radius of her can feel the stone cold rage that’s radiating off of her. Nobody bothers lying to her when she questions them, they know she would know if they lied, and they aren’t stupid enough to risk feeling her wrath over a silly lie, even if they’re innocent. Of course, the person responsible lies right to her face, but she knows. And she’ll be damned if they get away with it

-Veronika doesn’t wait to hear if you’ll live before enacting her vengeance on whoever attacked you, if she waited and you did die then she won’t have time to mess with the killer before the trial begins.

-It’s not hard for her to get her hands on the would-be-killer, all she had to do is drug the water they’re drinking without them noticing (Monotv was more than happy to supply her with the pills) , and drag them back to her room. And oh boy, does she go to town on them.

-You ever seen hostel? Yeah it’s kinda like that except she keeps the attacker alive. She will not hold back, she will go as far as she can without outright killing the perpetrator

-She might let them go after their “punishment” is over, or she might keep them tied up in her room somewhere, who knows! It all depends on if she feels bothered enough to feed and water them

-She’ll then check up on you, hoping that you’re still alive. Fear and concern begin to eat her alive now that she got all the murderous rage out of her system. She’ll stay with your unconscious body as long as she can, only leaving to grab food or use the bathroom.

-When you finally wake up, she’s ecstatic! She’ll hug you and kiss you and wait on your every request. She basically treats you like royalty

-She won’t tell you about how she handled your attacker, she doesn’t need you worrying about her safety or thinking about that gruesome scene

-She doesn’t worry about it happening again since she took care of your assailant , but obviously you might, so she’ll do her best to reassure you. Anything that’ll make you feel safer, she’ll do. She comes with you everywhere if you’d like (it gives her a little piece of mind too), and she does her best to distract you by any means necessary to keep you from spiraling into terror

-Eventually your fears will dissipate, nothing bad has happened to you when Veronika’s by your side, so there’s nothing to fear anymore. She makes sure of it.

-Afraid, very afraid

-He wasn’t the one to find you, Teruko was. He found out after a very concerned David saw her carry your limp and bloody body to the infirmary

-He immediately rushes to the infirmary, terrified that you might be dead. He’s relieved to see you still alive, but also extremely worried when he sees the extent of your injuries. With no way of knowing if you’ll pull through, he stays by your side, constantly watching to make sure you’re still breathing

-He blames himself for your attack. If he had been there with you, if he hadn’t left you alone, then maybe he could have stopped your assailant from nearly killing you. At the very least he could have been there to defend you, most of Xanders classmates wouldn’t anywhere near strong enough to face him.

-Teruko informs him that before you passed out, you told her that the attack was too quick for you to identify the assailant. He thinks briefly of trying to find out who did it, but he won’t leave you in the condition you’re in by yourself, no way.

-He keeps an eye on whoever’s healing you, even if it’s just MonoTv. He’s not risking your safety, especially after he failed to keep you out of harms way the first time.

-Once you regain consciousness, he’ll be all over you. No one in the school can rip you from his arms, he refuses to let you go (unless he’s hurting you, in which case he’ll refrain from intense physical contact.) He asks you a ton of questions, mostly along the lines of “are you in any pain? or “can I get you anything?” Anything you want, he’ll get. He’s at your beck and call

-He refuses to leave you by yourself after that. The only other person he feels he can trust around you is Teruko, anyone else can only interact with you when he’s in the room. He hates being overbearing, but the fear that you’ll get attacked again is far greater than his dislike of hovering.

-If he gets any indication of who the attacker was, he is on them so quickly it’s not even funny. He doesn’t care who’s around to see it (except you) or what the consequences will be for him, he’s pounding their face in. He won’t stop until his victim is either unconscious or on the verge of dying, as much as he wants them dead he doesn’t want to get executed. He also makes sure everyone else is aware of what they’ve done so nobody else falls victim to that person

-He’s also not leaving you alone ever again (unless Teruko’s with you). As the game progresses his trust in the rest of the group goes down astronomically, he can’t afford to risk leaving you with everyone when anybody could kill next.

-Still, it eases your worry to have him around. He’s the strongest out of everybody there so as long as you stick with him, you know you’ll be fine

-Oh he’s an absolute w r e c k

-He’s likely to find you first as well, he’s extremely clingy and was probably looking for you when he found your unconscious body.

-He’s terrified, he has no idea if you’re even still alive or not, he’s just trying to get you to help as soon as possible. He screams for help until someone shows up, helping him carry you to the infirmary while he sobs

-He’s not leaving your side, he refuses to. Even when Monotv is patching you up, even the smell and sight of blood become too much to bear for him, he’s still there, watching your every move (or lack thereof). He stays at your side all night, sleeping next to your unconscious body

-Whit has no idea what to do. He doesn’t know who did this, he doesn’t know how to help you, he doesn’t even know how to help himself. He can’t dark humor his way out of this one, not while you’re actively hurting. He knows he can’t really do anything to find the perpetrator, so at your side he remains, waiting for you to wake up

-Once you do, he’s immediately peppering your face with kisses, beyond relieved that you finally woke up. He was afraid you would fall into a coma and never come back to him, but you’re here now, alive and conscious.

-Anything you need, he'll get. He waits on you hand and foot, anything to make your recovery easier. He doesn't want to overwhelm you, but he will ask if you remember who attacked you. While he's disappointed that you didn't get to see them, he won't push it any further. He's just glad you're safe.

-He doesn't stop you from seeing the others once you've recovered enough, but he will be watching over you like a HAWK whenever you're with anyone else. The only person he even remotely trusts around you is Charles, solely because he knows Charles couldn't hurt you without passing out.

-If he gets any indication of who did it he will make their life a living hell. He won't hurt them physically, but he will make sure they're ostracised from the group. He'll also bully them horrendously, making it his mission in life to annoy the attacker any chance he gets.

-He won't tell you worried he is, and it may be hard to tell, but don't be fooled. He's so scared you'll get hurt again. He tries to hide his feelings from you, but you can hear him crying himself to sleep sometimes when it all gets to be too much. He feels like it's his fault, like he didn't do enough to protect you.

-Please comfort him, he needs a reminder that it's not his fault and that you're still here, safe with him.

I hope you enjoyed!

[blueraineshadows]

Blood Bound Part 8

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Sebastian has a favour to ask his twin amid concerns about Rookwood’s intentions. Meanwhile, MC takes the first step into her new future, only it isn't what she planned...

Words 10.9k Tags: NSFW / sexual activity / angst / sibling tension / mentions of abuse / dark magic / anxiety

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Tagging List at the end.

Eight: The First Move

MC

The years spent within the darkness of her cell had cut MC off from human interaction. The days stretched into a blur of cold shadows and screaming terror, the air of madness was so thick it had seeped into the very stone of the walls, encapsulating the horror with no escape. Starved of touch and affection, MC had hidden the soft parts of herself behind mental barriers to protect her mind, and around her heart she had erected stone walls of a different kind. These walls protected her from the madness, but it had also left her feeling numb and empty. She had become one with the darkness, a shadow of her former self. Lonely.

Outside, the real world was loud and bright, with people who spoke to her, their eyes meeting hers and probing against these protections that she had been forced to surround herself with. Fearful of making the mistake of placing her trust in the wrong person, unwilling to find herself trapped and utterly alone again, MC couldn’t imagine being able to lower these barriers.

Until now.

The cavern of emptiness behind her ribs ached to be filled. To feel wanted, to be seen as a person and not the number that had been branded into the skin of her neck. It was a deeply profound thing. Still frightened of what it could mean, she had come to Leander in the dark of the night to explore the sensations of warmth that had begun to slip through the cracks of her rigid control. Here, in his bedroom, she had dared to cross a line that made her tremble with anticipation.

Teetering on the edge of abandon, MC tipped her head back, Leander’s large hands cradling the back of it, his fingers threaded into her unbound hair as his lips tasted her exposed throat. Her own lips were parted in a soft sigh, a fierce ache beginning to grow in her lower abdomen as she worked her hips in a slow grind against his lap. Her hands smoothed up his chest to grip his shoulders, her teeth catching on her lower lip as she felt the growing hardness through the soft cotton of his pyjama bottoms. He had somehow broken through her shields leaving her a wanton, breathless vessel of need. It was scandalous how she rutted against him, and yet it felt so good.

Whispering her name against her throat, Leander held her hips, looking down to watch as she writhed against him. He moaned, his hips flexing towards her heat.

“Gods…you are so…tempting,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against her shoulder. His hands slid upwards towards her waist, dragging her nightgown in his grip to expose her thighs. The feel of his hands sent searing flame through the thin cotton of her nightdress, the sensitivity of her skin causing sparks to fly through her blood. The heat gathered deep within, her breathing heavy as she allowed herself to push back those mental barriers.

“Tell me you want more,” she whispered, her fingers caressing his neck and teasing at his hair. Capturing his lower lip with her mouth, she sucked slowly at the plump flesh, savouring the little whimper that came from his throat.

Despite the darkness of his room, she could still see the intensity of his gaze, looking into the honey brown of his eyes and feeling the fire that blazed behind them. It was a power all of its own to know she could capture him this way. It emboldened her, made her push past the insecurities of knowing she was still too thin, her skin pale from years in the dark. Slowly, she pulled at the ribbon on the front of her nightgown, loosening the fastening until the fabric began to slide off one shoulder.

Leander watched, his cheeks darkening as more of her skin became exposed to him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “We don’t have to…I mean, I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you,” he faltered, his eyes unable to look away as her nightgown slipped even further, the lace trimmed edge dangerously close to exposing her breast.

“What if I am taking advantage of you, Prewett?” She murmured, the curve of her mouth teasing as she took hold of one of his hands and placed it against her chest, her skin craving the contact to the point of exquisite torture.

His throat worked as he swallowed, the tips of his fingers trembling slightly as they ghosted against her skin, tracing delicate lines until the base of his hand nudged the edge of her nightgown. It slipped, dropping to expose the soft curve of her breast, her breath catching in her throat as his palm grazed against the tightening peak. He stared, transfixed as his fingers traced along the swooping curve, outlining the shape as his thumb grazed in a teasing stroke over her nipple. She gasped softly at the tingling fire spreading out from the stiff arousal, goosebumps erupting across her skin at his feather light exploration.

“Lee…please,” she whispered, her fingers gripping into the soft hair at the back of his head.

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” He asked softly, his eyes lifting to look at her more closely.

She could see the concern in his eyes, his effortless nature of being a gentleman strong enough to bypass the obvious need she could feel pressing urgently through his pyjama bottoms against her heat. It wasn’t an unreasonable question considering she had spent the last four years incarcerated in a prison cell, thrown there when she was barely sixteen. She realised it would be best not to go into too much detail about the how and when of her sexual past, not wanting Sebastian hovering between them at this moment.

She nodded to confirm that she had done this before, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss, grinding against his lap with slow rolls of her hips. It had been a long time, but her need bypassed her nerves, her body seeking relief now that she had opened herself to the flame. “I’m not a virgin,” she whispered, keeping her mouth achingly close against his. “Take me, Lee. Please, make me feel alive.”

The look he gave her stole her breath, his eyes darkening with a desire that pulled fiercely on the growing fire in her belly. The handsome lines of his face changed from his usual soft disposition into something edgier, almost dangerous, as his hands fisted into the soft cotton of her nightdress and dragged it upwards with clear intent. A ragged gasp left her mouth, her arms lifting willingly as he tore the garment from her body and discarded it into the room.

He swore under his breath, his fingers biting into the delicate flesh of her hips as he devoured her nakedness with hungry eyes. The change in him was palpable, and she had barely begun to work on the buttons of his sleep shirt before he rolled her onto her back, claiming her mouth with a passion bursting with confidence and unabated hunger.

Her breath was stolen at his urgency, the confident slide of his hands over her flesh waking up every nerve ending that had slumbered under tight control. The heat of his kiss seared her skin as he mouthed along her collar bone, working his way down towards her aching, heavy breasts. Her back arched in ecstasy as he sucked a peak into his mouth, his hand cupping the back of her thigh and adjusting her leg to his liking, his fingers dragging across quivering muscle to drift teasingly close to where she throbbed for him.

The anticipation was almost overwhelming, her lungs burning as she dragged in rasping breaths, her blood singing with desperation as she clung to him. “Please,” she whined, her brow creasing and her teeth dragging across her lower lip as his fingers brushed against her core.

“Don’t worry,” he promised, kissing his way along her jaw before finding her mouth. “Let me take care of you.”

A few deft strokes from his fingertips and he was in, twisting the length of his finger into her slick, tight heat. She echoed his breathless groan, closing her eyes as she lost herself in his torturous exploration. He definitely seemed to know what he was doing, the relief so sweet she could almost taste it as he worked her open, adding a second finger that had her nails digging into the flesh of his arm.

Just when she thought she could ride out the rhythmic thrust of his fingers, balanced on the wave of pleasure he was building, the pad of his thumb began to circle slowly, each delicate swipe thrumming over her unbelievably sensitive bundle of nerves.

“There…Lee,” she cried, arching against him, eyes wide. Her body tensed, overwhelmed and on the brink of shattering already. His hand slowed, his mouth pressing soft kisses along her neck until his lips were grazing her ear.

“Easy, easy. Relax,” he whispered, eliciting shivers along her spine. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her erratic heartbeat, the sensations he was awaking inside of her like huge, crashing waves. “I’ve got you, you can let go.”

He began to pleasure her again, slowly this time, each swipe of thumb and plunge of fingers throwing more fuel onto the building inferno deep in her core. Her hips rocked of their own will, low moans leaving her lips with abandon as she gradually loosened her grip on her control, giving in to the sensations he was giving her. Heat flamed across her cheeks, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sleep shirt as she felt herself tightening again, her gaze drifting down to watch as his hand moved with erotic ease. Lost for words, she allowed herself to give in, her hips bearing downwards as she slipped off the edge into pulsing, molten release.

His kisses danced across her flushed cheeks. “I hope you know how beautiful you are,” he said, the tip of his nose nudging against hers.

It felt so strange to hear those words on his lips, her head barely able to accept them as truth despite the way he was looking at her. Awestruck might have been the word to use as his hands soothed across her heated skin. Her heart was pounding, nerve endings still twitching with pleasure as her body floated on the ebbing tide of release. Wanting to repay him for making her feel this way, she opened his sleep shirt, her hands seeking out the warm flesh of his chest.

His pale skin was peppered with freckles that spread up and over his shoulders. Slipping the shirt from him, she caressed his soft skin in gentle exploration, watching his face to witness the effect she was having on him. Brushing against a pink nipple made him twitch, her lips curving into a soft smile as she teased down over his stomach to toy with the soft, copper hair that grew there, the fiery trail leading downward below the waistband of his pyjamas.

“Can I touch you?”

He smiled, huffing with amusement through his nose. “I’ve been wanting you to do just that since I was 16,” he said, his eyes lingering on her mouth before he kissed her, slowly. “I can’t believe I can kiss you like this, touch you like this…”

His hand slid upwards over her ribs, cupping a breast and rolling her nipple under his thumb. MC touched her hand to his cheek, the warmth she could feel pooling behind her ribs making her feel like she might be in trouble with Mr Prewett. She had wanted to feel something other than cold and empty, and he was stirring things she wasn’t sure she was prepared for. How had she missed his sweetness all those years ago? It made her wonder how different the trajectory of her time at Hogwarts would have turned out had she befriended this loyal Gryffindor sooner?

She did not deserve the light he bestowed upon her, and yet she was greedily taking it, basking under the burn of his gaze as he touched her. Maybe she was selfish for letting this happen, maybe she was going to destroy whatever this was between them, because that was the pattern her life seemed to follow. Anything good she ever found managed to slip through her fingers. But, right now, she didn’t have the strength to pull away from how he was making her feel. Her skin burned under his hands, each fiery tingle reminding her that she was, in fact, alive.

Dipping her hand lower, she pushed at the waistband of his trousers, sliding them down over his hips to expose the length of his arousal. Looking down, she bit her lip at the swollen size of him, the pink tip already leaking in anticipation. Making his teenage fantasy come true, she touched him, sliding her hand along the silken length and smoothing her thumb along the pulsing vein. His breathless groan filled her ear as he dipped his head, burying his face against her neck as his pelvis flexed towards her touch. Shifting beneath him, she widened her legs to accommodate him, a slight flutter of nerves awakening as she felt the thick press of him at her entrance. She had only ever been with one boy, and that was a long time ago.

Leander was gentle but determined as he took her, considerate as always. The stretch made her eyes water, her back arching as he carefully pushed testing thrusts into her, his cheeks flushed scarlet and his eyes closing in bliss. “Fuck, MC…” He panted, his voice strained as he bottomed out. Glancing downwards he made another low sound in his throat, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s so…Gods, that looks amazing.”

MC felt her cheeks flush at his admiration, too aware of how her bones still poked up against her skin, how tired and weak she was already beginning to feel despite being on her back. Unlike him, towering above her, the muscles of his arms and shoulders were taut and strong where he was bracing himself to avoid crushing her. His hips pushed even deeper, grinding carefully and she pushed back against him, gasping as she felt him hit her limit deep inside.

“It’s a tight fit,” she murmured, meeting his gaze as he hummed in agreement.

“It’s a damned perfect fit,” he said, biting his lip. “You have no idea how desperately I’m clinging on to my restraint. I just want to…mmph…”

She moved her hips, rolling them gently and smirking at the twist of pleasure that crossed his expression. “Don’t hold back on my account,” she said, her voice low. It was so satisfying, and breathtakingly sexy to see him so close to losing it.

Bracing his forearm near her head, he began to move, his other hand settling on the curve of her waist. Building a rhythm that had them both breathing hard, MC found herself unable to stop staring up at him, the darkened glow of desire in his blown out eyes had her entranced. His moans made her shiver, her palms smoothing over toned muscle and reaching around to grasp the soft peach of his backside. Caught up in the intimacy of the act, MC felt the bloom of affection in her chest spread.

Had it only been days since she had been curled up tight in a cold cell, the darkness staring back at her, grief ripping through her at the thought that she might never see him again. Now look at her, spread beneath him, their bodies joined in an act destined for lovers. If somebody had told her that this is where she would end up that day he had first entered her cell, she would never have believed it, and yet this felt so spine tingling good.

As she traced her hand down his face, she caught a glimpse of the scar on her palm, the memory of cutting through her skin to pledge herself to Sebastian flashing through her mind. The fire in her blood was not pain, opening herself to Leander was not calling the pact to hurt her. The only flames searing her flesh were the ones Leander ignited with his mouth and his hands, every thrust of his hips elevating her higher onto a plane where there was no darkness, only light.

Burying his flushed face into her neck, Leander found his release. MC wrapped her thin arms around him, holding him tightly against her, savouring the deep, penetrating throb of him filling her up. She could feel the thunder of his heartbeat, her hands soothing the rapid rise and fall of his back as he breathed. He was hot, solid, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin of her neck. Laying here entangled in his arms, she felt safe.

Letting her head lean against his, she closed her eyes, savouring the moment because she wasn’t sure if it would ever come again. The thought turned over in her mind, the warmth behind her ribs drawing back as the uncertainty of the future lay in wait. She had to leave him soon, and this sudden closeness they had formed would no doubt slip away. She would be alone again. Her eyes burned beneath the lids, an ache that felt suspiciously like loss already forming, making a solitary tear leak from the corner of her eye.

Leander

He awoke to the sound of birdsong outside the bedroom window, blinking at the pale sunlight filtering through the curtain and stretching languidly with a yawn. He lay a hand against his bare chest, remembering he was naked, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he stared at the empty part of the bed beside him. The rumpled, turned back blankets showed the only signs that MC had ever been here with him, her disappearance throwing a cloud over the happy glow he’d fallen asleep with. Turning his gaze towards the closed bedroom door, he sighed. He hadn’t even heard her slip away.

Falling back against the pillows, Leander closed his eyes and replayed every moment spent with his night time visitor, savouring the memories she had given him. Her soft skin, the sounds she made when he touched her, the feel of her…he could list so many things that made his heart pound, his heated blood rushing downwards to make him twitch with arousal. Brushing back the tousled mess of his hair, he blew a slow breath through his lips to calm his thoughts, and climbed from his bed to start the day.

Washed and dressed, he entered the kitchen to make some tea, noticing the empty healing and restoring potion bottles that had been left on the table. MC must have already risen, and he could see the washed items from her breakfast on the side. As he picked up the empty potion bottles to return them to the box provided by the Healer, he frowned, realising it was missing. Checking the cupboard he noticed some food items missing too, and a ball of panic settled into the pit of his stomach.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried to MC’s bedroom door and knocked. When there was no answer, he opened it, risking her temper, but the room was empty. Bed neatly made, her clothes gone, he felt his throat tighten as the signs pointed to the sickening realisation that she had fled.

Returning back downstairs, he fought back the burn of tears, his face and neck hot as he tried to squeeze out the emotions spiralling in his chest. He had told her she was free to go whenever she wanted to, but after last night and what they had shared, the idea of her running without saying a word felt like a fist to the stomach. Emotional turmoil aside, he was faced with a dilemma as her Auror. He said he wouldn’t have to chase after her, but they had not planned their meetings, and there was always the chance that she had run to avoid all of this, not just him.

Feeling nauseous, Leander pushed a hand through his neatly combed hair and left the cottage. Striding down the path, not entirely sure where he was headed in his panic, he came to an immediate stop at the gate and sucked in a huge breath of relief. Ahead, right at the cliff edge, sat MC. The sea breeze tugged at her hair and clothes, her arms were wrapped around herself as she stared out to sea, her bag of things at her feet. Leander rubbed a shaking hand against his mouth, relief so strong washing over him that his legs shook with it.

Slowly, cautiously, he walked towards MC, coming to a stop beside her and carefully sitting down without looking at her. Keeping his gaze towards the ocean, he balanced his arms on his knees and took a steadying breath. “There is something powerful about the ocean, isn’t there? It’s constantly moving and changing, appearing calm and welcoming from a distance, but you should never underestimate it.”

It was a few moments before she spoke, her voice low and soft. “I underestimated you.”

He turned his head to look at her, a slight crease on his brow. Her pale face was reddened from tears, her eyes darkened with sadness that made his chest cave. “What do you mean? Did I hurt you?” He asked, his panic seizing him again.

“Oh, goodness, no,” she said, shaking her head. She put her hand on his arm, turning to face him properly. “No, you didn’t hurt me, Leander.”

He looked from her hand on his arm to her face, searching her eyes. “You packed to leave,” he said, hating the tremor in his voice. He was supposed to be a professional Auror, in charge of this situation, and yet he had broken rules and seduced her. He shouldn’t blame her for trying to run, he was a damned fool.

MC nodded, her eyes shifting towards the bag beside her before hanging her head. “I thought about running,” she admitted, her fingers gripping a little tighter onto his arm. She huffed a humourless laugh and shook her head. “I couldn’t go through with it, though. I got this far and realised that I have nowhere to go, and no clue what to do. Not only that, but…”

“But what?”

A blush stained her cheeks as she met his gaze. His heart thudded wildly behind his ribs as they stared at each other, last night hanging heavy in the air between them. A small smile curved her lips despite the tears still shining in her eyes, and she let his arm go, settling down beside him again to look out at the ocean. “I didn’t want to let my Auror down,” she said.

He fought back his smile, fiddling with the cuff of his jumper as he thought about her words. She didn’t want to let him down. He rather liked how she called him hers, too, but he shouldn’t be getting carried away with things like that.

“Do you really have nowhere to go? Is there anybody I could contact for you? Family, or an old friend perhaps?”

“No. I don’t have any family. Sebastian was probably the closest thing to family I’ve ever had, and now I’m not even sure if he cares anymore,” she said, a brittle edge to her voice that sliced through him.

Thinking back to his confrontation with Sebastian down in the tunnels, he remembered the Slytherin saying that he would never give up on MC. Leander didn’t want to tell her, a selfish streak wanting to hold on to what he had with her, knowing that she would go to Sebastian eventually anyway. Why hurry that along? It wasn’t very honourable of him, and he bit his lip. He was so entangled with all that she was that he feared where it was headed, the soft warmth behind his ribs had grown again overnight, refusing to disappear despite his efforts to ignore it.

“Well, you are welcome to stay with me as long as you wish,” he offered, inwardly berating himself for being selfish, but unable to stop himself. “And I’m not just saying that because we shared a bed last night. It would, of course, be a no strings attached offer.”

“About last night,” she said, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Leander.”

There it was. She was going to say it was a mistake, it shouldn’t have happened. The fact that she had tried to sneak off without saying goodbye spoke volumes, but hearing her dismissal of what they had shared was still going to hurt. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he nodded. “It’s alright. You don’t need to say anything. I know I shouldn’t read too much into it.”

“Please, don’t take it the wrong way, Lee. I’m not the kind of girl a man can take home to his mother,” she said, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around her legs. “I can see marriage to a respectable, young lady in your future. Someone who you can come home to everyday, and have lovely, red-haired babies with. That’s a future you deserve, Lee.”

He could see the way she was closing herself off, holding herself tightly, that carefully blank look coming over her tear-stained face. Whenever she was like this, her fingers would caress that blood scar on her palm, and he knew that Sallow was lurking in her head. Her eyes were dark and avoiding him, and he longed to reach out for her, hold her close and feel that connection he was sure snapped into place last night. But, he kept his hands to himself, pushing back his own desires. She was a vulnerable, young lady, and he wouldn’t be the man he aimed to be if he took even more advantage of her.

The future she had described did sound lovely. It would be nice to come home to someone everyday, especially on those days when a case had drained him. The idea of children seemed so far out of reach, a dream more than anything, and not something he wanted until his job could provide a bit more safety. Aurors lived on the edge when out on the field, danger lurking around every corner. That was far easier to deal with when you only had yourself to worry about.

“What do you see in your future?” He asked curiously.

Her sigh was so deep it pulled her shoulders down, her body hunched over her knees as she stared out over the ocean. “I don’t know,” she said wearily. “I’m not even sure I know who, or what I am, other than a convicted criminal with no roots, destined to float around in search of something. The only trouble is I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“You can be anything you want, MC. Think about it. Your future is yours, it’s out there waiting for you,” he said, giving in and reaching out for her. He took hold of her cold hand, and she didn’t pull away, her gaze dropping to look at their linked fingers. “You’ve got a blank parchment , and you get to decide what is written upon it.”

Her lips twitched in wry amusement. “You mean, I can make myself the hero of my own story.”

“Why not?” He smiled. “It’s your story, after all.”

A shadow passed over her features, but she squeezed his hand, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “I need to start infiltrating the Ashwinders, Lee. That’s the first step. I don’t want to put it off any longer.”

He nodded, appreciating the bravery he could see in her eyes. Lifting his free hand, he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. He did hate to see her cry. “You’re right. Come on, let’s go back inside. I’ll make some tea, and we can make a plan,” he said, tugging her up onto her feet. He didn’t let go of her hand, turning to lead her back to the cottage. “I have something to give you that will help us communicate in private. A special parchment that we can charm so that only our wands can read it, and then we can arrange to meet through that. It’s too risky to keep a regular time and place, or send owls that could be intercepted.”

“That is all very secretive and cunning of you, Leander,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m just trying to consider all options, a bit like Sherlock Holmes. He never ruled out the impossible,” he said, smiling at the thought of one of his favourite books.

“Who’s that?” MC asked, frowning.

“You haven’t read The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes?” He looked down at her in surprise, and then he flushed bright red, biting his lip. He winced and squeezed her hand, realising his error. “I’m sorry. Of course you haven’t. It was only published in recent years. I can lend you my copy if you wish to read it. It’s about a brilliant Muggle detective solving crimes in London.”

“Part of the reading list at Auror boot camp, was it?” She smirked.

“Not quite,” he said, chuckling. “Although, Detective Holmes would make a brilliant wizard.”

They entered the kitchen and he set about putting the water on for tea. MC took a seat at the table and slid the file closer that contained the information on the Ashwinder gang members, opening the cover and staring down at the image of Rookwood, her face tight. She was going to be walking right into the lion’s den, and he had to pat her on the back and encourage it. He couldn’t even go with her because it would blow her cover.

“I meant what I said about having a place to stay if you need it,” he said, putting cups down onto the table. He blushed slightly at his next offer. “If not here, then my own place in London. If I show you where, then you can Apparate in whenever you need to.”

She stared up at him, her face carefully blank. “That is very trusting of you, Leander.”

“I do trust you,” he said firmly, swallowing down the nerves that fluttered in his stomach. His mother definitely wouldn’t approve of him allowing a convicted murderer into his home, and a Slytherin one at that. MC had been right about that point, at least. He still wanted to give her the option to come to him, though, even if it was for his own selfish reasons. “But, only you. All I ask is that you don’t tell anybody else.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly as she leant back in her chair. “There is only one problem with that,” she said. Leander felt his stomach twist up even sharper, wondering if she would finally bring up the subject of Sebastian, his presence lingering between them despite him being miles away. “I don’t know how to Apparate. I was too busy being locked up to catch that lesson.”

He stared, lips parted at the dry sarcasm of her quip. At least she hadn’t rebuffed his offer to stay at his place, and not one comment about Sallow. He straightened, his hand lifting to fiddle with his tie as he fixed her with a determined look. “Then we shall have to remedy that,” he said with a nod. “After our tea, we can go outside and I’ll teach you. I’m sure you will pick it up swiftly being the brilliant witch that you are. You will be popping up out of nowhere in no time.”

Feeling better with a fixed purpose for the day, Leander made the tea, taking the chair opposite MC at the table as they began to discuss the gang members again, and the best place to begin approaching them. They settled on the Black Rose pub as a starting point, and Leander couldn’t deny the tight ball of worry that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. She may have reminded him that she wasn’t the girl for him in the long run, but that didn’t stop the soft part of him that was falling even deeper into trouble over her.

He had the creeping feeling that the hard part was only just beginning.

Sebastian

The little tea shop where Anne worked had been busy, people coming and going, the tables full inside as Sebastian watched from his spot in the alley across the street. The small glimpses of Anne he had seen through the windows had shown her looking well today, her face seemingly less drawn than usual. He wondered if Ominis had told her much about MC’s case, and what sort of mood she was in today. He hoped it was a good one because for once, he planned to actually approach her. He had a favour to ask, and he would need every advantage he could get.

As he waited for the flurry of customers to die down, he leant against the brick wall of the alley, his hand in his pocket where he could stroke over the blood amulet. He threw the occasional glance towards the tea shop, but his thoughts were fixated on the incident in the back room of the Black Rose pub. The sight of the broken man as his magic had been forced from his body had haunted Sebastian ever since, chasing his sleep out of reach, and making his temper shorter than usual. Rosier had been keeping out of his way, and Luella was still sulking about him not taking her into his bed again.

Rookwood was also absent, Carrow running the helm in London while their sly leader was off elsewhere. It worried Sebastian what Rookwood was up to. The comment about extracting and absorbing magic leaving a cold, nagging feeling at the back of his neck. The man was obsessed with MC and her ancient magic, desperate to have her within their ranks because of the power she could wield. What if Rookwood had his eyes purely on that power? The thought of MC lying broken on the ground whilst that bastard syphoned her strength had him gritting his teeth painfully, his hand fisting around the symbol of their pact.

The loss of Slytherin’s grimoire was deeply regrettable. No doubt it would contain important details he may have forgotten since reading it. He had recognised the extraction spell, but he wanted more information. His gaze swung back to the tea shop, and his twin. Anne had blasted that book to smithereens down in the catacombs in her rage, robbing him of a valuable tool. She was good at that. She loved having control over him. So much so, that she had hidden all of their parents' research from him.

They were young at the time of their parents death, and there was no doubt many things that had been held back from them in order to protect their innocence, but Sebastian knew that whatever they were researching was dangerous. Solomon had let slip a few things in his drunken rants, swinging his fists at Sebastian and predicting that he would come to the same sticky end as his meddling father. Whenever he had tried to fish more information out of his belligerent uncle, he had been rewarded with a split lip, or being locked in the shed with no dinner.

Whatever his parents had been researching, it was regarding dangerous magic, and his curiosity burned with a fervent flame whenever he thought of it. Anne knew where that research was, and remained closed lipped about its location, siding with their bastard uncle on thinking it best Sebastian didn’t know any better.

Sebastian wanted that research. Something in his gut told him there were answers in those files, answers not just for their deaths, but for dangerous magic and its history that might just help with current problems. He had just as much right as Anne to those files, if anything, he would appreciate them more. Locked away in some dusty storage was no use to anyone. If only he could read them, pore over words written by his father and mother. He wanted it, no, he needed those files, like a desire that consumed him.

When the tea shop looked quieter, he crossed the street, avoiding witches and wizards still milling up and down Diagon Alley, and strode towards the door. A little bell rang above his head as he entered, the scent of fresh tea and baked goods wafting under his nose as he glanced around the quaint little space.

“Table for one?” Anne asked, folding her arms as she looked at him, one eyebrow raised in a manner that reminded him of their mother.

“I’d like a table for two, actually,” he said, bestowing his most charming smile upon his pale faced sister. “Surely, you are due a break by now. I thought you could join me.”

Anne led him to a table near the window, the autumn sunlight warm through the glass. He took a chair, sitting down and gesturing for Anne to take the one opposite. She did so, her eyebrow still raised as she clasped her hands together on the tabletop before her.

“Come on, then, out with it,” she said, tilting her head. “What is it you want?”

“I wish merely to spend some time with my sister,” he said, plucking the menu card from the stand on the table and scanning it quickly. “What is the carrot cake like here? I was always partial to a slice of that.”

Anne’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t fool me, Sebastian. You want something. The last time we spoke, you were pretty clear on how you felt about me. Now, out with it.”

Sebastian sighed and lay the menu card down before him, eyeing his sister across the table. She was too smart for her own good, and it was something he had always respected. It was a shame her smartness was matched by her stubbornness, and unfailing ability to piss him off.

“Fine,” he sighed, slouching back in his chair as though he had not a care in the world. “I would like to read Mum and Dad’s research. We are no longer children, nor do we need to be sheltered from whatever it was they discovered.”

“No,” Anne said calmly.

He blinked, staring at the unmoving expression on her face. She didn’t even flinch, frown or sigh. She just said no, as though that would be the end of it. She was mistaken.

“As far as anything goes, our inheritance has always been a shared thing. I have just as much right to access those files as you, sister dearest. I would very much like to read them, please,” he said, keeping his voice as calm and level as possible.

Her clasped hands clenched a little tighter, the only tell he could see that she was becoming agitated by his request. Her face remained annoyingly serene. “I said, no.”

“Why would you deny me access to them?” He frowned, leaning forward. “They were my parents, too, Anne. I miss them. Reading their work would let me feel closer to them again.”

Anne huffed a laugh and shook her head, her gaze drifting out of the mullioned window to the street beyond. “Wow, you really do pull every angle to get what you want, don’t you? Sauntering in here as though we aren’t fighting with that Sallow charm plastered all over your face, but pulling the grieving son act is a low blow, even for you.”

Sebastian’s face tightened, and he placed his hand carefully down onto the table top, the darkness hovering at the edge of his vision as he glared at Anne. “You think I don’t grieve for them, Anne? They were our parents, taken from us when we were so young. Our lives have been nothing but utter shit since they died. Don’t you dare say I pretend to grieve them. If we are talking of low blows, then that was sinking below a dangerous level, and that’s saying something for you after what you did.”

“What I did?” She gaped, fury flaring in her eyes. She leaned across the table, her gaze livid. “You murdered someone.”

“Yes, I did,” he hissed back, his fingers curling into the wood of the table top. It was that, or reach for his wand. “And you lied in a courtroom before the Wizengamot to condemn an innocent witch to prison. All I did was silence a rotten drunk who used his fists to communicate, what you did was far worse in my book.”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? In your book it’s alright to murder and commit crimes, to keep company with the lowest scum of the wizarding world, and you want me to hand over precious files that contain information highly dangerous in the wrong hands. Do you think I'm a fool, Sebastian? You are not getting those files just so you can share them with the likes of Victor Rookwood and his rotten band of followers.”

“As if I would share those files with anyone else!” He ground out, eyes flashing. His chest was tightening with anxiety, flutters of panic spinning in his stomach as the darkness teased at his mind. “They are family heirlooms, Anne. To keep them from me is a betrayal, and I think we have had our fair share of those already. What is so terrible about them that you feel the need to keep them from me?”

Her face twisted as she studied him, a look of anguish that tore him up and made him sit back a moment. She looked down at the table top, her fingers trembling now. “Look at you, Seb,” she said, her words hushed and pained. “You look like a ghost. I’m the one who is cursed, and yet you look ill, brother. I can tell you are not sleeping, you are shaking and your eyes are wild and dark. You have been dabbling with dangerous magic, I know you have. These people you insist on being around are no good for you. Handing over our parents' work is only going to send you spiralling off even further away from me. What kind of sister would I be if I let that happen? Please, Sebastian. You have to stop.”

Dismay flooded through him, his hand coming up to touch tentatively at his brow. Did he really look that bad? He had taken the time to shave the growth on his jaw this morning, hoping to make himself look a bit smarter before seeing her. He never liked the beard to grow too long anyway. Where his body had become more thick-set over the years, he did not wish to resemble his late uncle.

Anxiously tugging at his sleeve on the arm where his tally of deaths were branded on his flesh, he took a steadying breath. “What kind of brother would I be if I did not search to the ends of the Earth to find a way to help my sister?”

“Oh, Sebastian,” she sighed, slowly shaking her head. “What makes you think that there will be anything in mum and dad’s files that will help with what ails me?”

“No knowledge is bad, Anne. There is always something to learn from information discovered, no matter how dark or dangerous it may be,” he said firmly. “Mum was a pursuer of knowledge, and she always taught me to read everything and anything, to question what I learned and consider all angles. Even if that means searching through the darkness, I will always follow her teaching. I don’t mean to do bad things, honestly, I don’t. But, I would do anything for you, Anne. Anything to keep you safe. You are all I have left.”

“What about her? Have you seen her?” Anne’s eyes had the shine of tears, but her face hardened as she asked that question.

“If you mean MC, then no. I’ve not seen her,” he said, clenching his jaw against the stab of disappointment that seared through him.

Anne considered that for a moment, her fingers toying together as she looked out of the window. “Perhaps that is for the best,” she said softly, her eyes shifting back towards him. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but she is another reason I’d rather not share those files with you. MC is a dangerous witch with too much power. I don’t want her seeing those files either.”

His curiosity over that research spiked even higher. There must be something valuable in those files, powerful information that would mean something to the likes of people like Rookwood and MC, who already had power of their own. He hungered after that knowledge, his hands curling into fists through frustration at being blocked off from it. “Please, Anne. I only want to read their research, not share it with anyone. If not for me, do it for them. I’m sure they wouldn’t have stopped me from looking at it, especially Mum.”

“Yes, well, you always were Mummy’s golden boy,” she muttered, letting her hands fall into her lap. She looked drained, tired, her shoulders slumped as she considered him. “I will think about it.”

Thinking about it was one step closer than a flat out no. A smile lifted his lips, a smile of hope that seemed to push back some of the shadows that lingered over his face. “Thank you, Anne,” he said, inclining his head in acknowledgment of her offer.

“Let me get you that slice of carrot cake,” she said, getting to her feet. She paused, holding her hand to her stomach, a grimace of pain crossing her face. Sebastian moved to stand, his worry for her creasing his brow.

“Anne…”

She waved him off, breathing heavier but managing a grim smile. “I’m alright, don’t fuss. Sit back down, or I won’t fetch you that cake. If you behave yourself, I’ll even bring some tea along with it.”

Sebastian slowly sat back down in his chair, giving her one of his best smiles, but the worry lingered in his eyes as he watched her walk across the tea shop, her frame so small and frail. He would always worry about her, no matter how much they squabbled. She was his blood, his kin. And he really would do anything for her.

MC

Dressed in dark clothing, a dark green silk scarf at her throat, and a black robe about her shoulders, MC descended the stairs of Shell Cottage with a stomach full of butterflies. After an afternoon of practising Apparation she was tired, her limbs aching from the exertion she had expelled trying to shift her body through space and time, but the day wasn’t over yet. Rather than face another sleepless night waiting to take the next step, she had decided to brave stepping out into the world. This evening, she was going to take a sneaky look at the Black Rose.

Leander was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, that familiar glow of fire in his gaze as she stepped off the bottom step towards him. It was hard not to stare at his mouth, remembering the feel of his kiss against her skin. Nervously adjusting the clasp of her robe, she kept her chin held high, pretending she couldn’t see the worry on his face. “So, will I do? I think I will blend into the shadows enough not to be noticed.”

“You look…perfect,” he said, attempting a smile as he reached out to pull the generous hood of her cloak up over her head. “Keep this up if you wish to remain unrecognised for now.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, looking towards the fireplace where she would travel by Floo Powder to Diagon Alley’s network point. It was too far for her to Apparate there yet. She needed some more practice first before taking on longer distances.

“Don’t worry,” Leander said, rubbing her arm. “If it doesn’t feel safe, Apparate back to the Floo point and come straight back here. Are you sure you don’t want me to get an undercover Auror to accompany you?”

She could hear the tremor in his voice. He was worried for her, and it pulled on that feeling that was burrowing deeper behind her ribs. Her attachment to him had only been strengthened after sharing his bed, proven that morning when she’d had every intention of running, but being unable to leave when it came down to it. Even now, she wanted to step into the circle of his warmth and bury her face against him, feel his hands on her. Let him make her feel alive again.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, managing a smile. “You’re the only Auror I trust, anyway.”

He held out the pot of Floo powder as she stepped onto the hearth, her pulse throbbing like a wild thing. Taking a handful, she met his eyes and nodded. “Diagon Alley!”

The rush of the air filling the space she had occupied seemed to roar in her ears as she was transported through the network, landing unsteadily on the stone platform of the Floo point near Gringotts bank. Taking a breath and getting her bearings, she moved quickly through the darkened street, avoiding the street lamps as she followed Leander’s directions into Knockturn Alley. The outside world felt huge and open, and even though she was small and cloaked in comparison, she was sure that everyone had eyes on her. It was like a strange prickling sensation on her skin. She felt too exposed, the freedom overwhelming as she walked unchecked along the path.

Keeping her head low and her hood firmly in place, MC slipped through the shadows, feeling the oppressive atmosphere of the notorious backstreet pressing down upon her. The enclosed feeling combined with the darkness made her chest squeeze with panic, the chill night air against her skin making her shiver. She tried to keep her breathing steady, her palms sweating as she reminded herself that there were no Dementors here. Feeling for the comforting shape of her wand at her hip, she continued on until the old building of the infamous pub came into view.

Keeping to the shadowed recesses, she eyed the Tudor style building. It was impossible not to notice the crooked charm of the place despite its dark reputation. As she let her gaze wander over the mullioned windows, wondering who was inside, she heard the delicate sound of female laughter. Pressing back into the darkened doorway she was in, she watched as a couple walked along the cobbled street towards the pub, her throat almost closing in a choked gasp as she recognised the blonde curls and beautiful profile of Luella Rookwood from the picture in Leander’s file. As jarring as it was to see the witch in the flesh, it was enough to make her knees almost buckle beneath her as she realised who walked beside her.

Sebastian was taller than she remembered, and definitely broader, his shoulders and arms thick and strong looking under his black coat. He strolled with the confidence she recognised from their youth, her eyes devouring the way he tilted his head when Luella spoke, the street lamp glow catching the highlights through his brunette tumble of hair. She couldn’t make out the words he spoke from where she stood, but goosebumps spread like wildfire up her arms as she caught the deep tone of his voice, memories rushing in of him speaking close to her ear in private moments shared.

Longing pierced her, robbing her breath from her lungs as she stared at him, her feet desperate to inch off the step she was hiding on and reveal herself. Her left hand curled so that her fingertips could brush up against her scar, savouring the connection that she had with the man across the street. Just one glimpse of him and it was ripping up all the emotions that she had tried to bury, feelings she had suppressed through the fear of not being able to trust him anymore. Feelings she had closed down and hidden in order to give herself to another man.

Heat bloomed across her cheeks, her body still aching and showing signs of the passion that had flared between herself and Leander, the gaping hollow in her chest swirling with a confusing blend of feelings as she watched Sebastian touch his hand to Luella’s lower back, guiding her towards the door of the pub. They looked familiar with each other, Luella’s gaze one of heated intimacy as she stepped past Sebastian and through the door.

MC pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes burning as a swift and crippling blow of pain echoed through the cavern behind her ribs. There was no denying that look Luella had given Sebastian. MC knew that look, she felt it. It was a look she had given him herself many years ago. He had moved on, found another.

Sebastian paused as he stepped up to the threshold of the pub, glancing back over his shoulder with a slight frown on his face as he scanned the shadowed pathway near where she stood. Clamping her hand tighter against her mouth, MC pressed herself even closer into the shadows, her heart pounding as she feared being seen.

It was not what she had been expecting when she laid eyes on Sebastian again, hiding from him in the dark, tears burning the backs of her eyes as she watched him escort another witch for the evening. But, what right did she have to be envious? Had she not taken a lover herself? She had gone to Leander willingly, lost herself in the throes of desire, her body eagerly responding to his.

Confused and lost, MC waited until Sebastian finally followed Luella into the pub, a slow breath leaving her body in relief that he hadn’t seen her. Her mission to stake out and get an understanding of the pub was forgotten, her head a jumbled mess as she stepped out from the doorway and hurried away. All she could think about was escaping this dark street, running from Sebastian, and running from her own messed up feelings over him. So lost in her own head, she didn’t see the man until she collided into him, stumbling backwards with a sharp gasp as strong hands reached out to hold her steady, her hood slipping back from her head.

“Woah, sorry miss,” he said, his hands firm but gentle on her upper arms. “Someone is in quite the hurry. Are you alright?”

MC blinked, her gaze lifting to meet a face she recognised from Leander’s file, but she couldn’t think of the name. He was handsome, his features rather pretty, his hair dark in this light. His smile was devastatingly charming and her own mouth curved in response without hesitation, such was the effect he had. “I’m fine,” she murmured, although she really wasn’t. She needed to get out of here.

The handsome man’s brow furrowed slightly. “Your face is familiar somehow, although I don’t believe we have met,” he said.

Panic fluttered behind her ribs, but she immediately settled her face into one of blank indifference, gently pulling herself out of his grasp. He was an Ashwinder, and she had to be cautious. “No, I don’t believe we have met before,” she said. “What’s your name?”

His eyebrows twitched with curiosity, his smile still charming but with a new, predatory gleam in his eyes. “Leo,” he said, holding out his hand towards her. “Leo Rosier.”

Recognition dawned on MC and she studied him even more closely, her interest piqued. Leander’s case notes had this rascal connected to Sebastian, his family full of criminals and dark deeds. She had even shared her prison with a couple of Rosier convicts. She glanced down at his hand, slipping hers into his grip whilst her other hand lingered near her wand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Leo,” she said slowly, switching her tone of voice to something a little softer. It didn’t go unnoticed, his smile widening.

“What’s your name?” He asked, tilting his head.

She smiled, keeping her face carefully neutral while she silently panicked inside. “You already know it,” she said cryptically, letting her fingers linger against his longer than necessary as she let her hand slip away from his grip. “After I am gone, you will probably realise who I am.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her, his gaze drifting over her face. “Do I get a clue?”

She smirked and lifted her hand, cupping it slightly so that her fingers were pointed upwards. Concentrating on the crackle and fire of her ancient magic, she channelled it towards her hand just as she had been in her daily practice. Watching for his reaction, she allowed a flicker of blue and white flame to dance at her fingertips, the glow of it lighting their faces in the darkness of the street. Allowing a few blistering seconds of magic, she then closed her hand into a fist, shutting off the flames immediately.

Rosier’s eyes widened, unable to hide the stunned disbelief from his face. “It’s you!” He gasped, stepping forward. “I knew I had seen your face before. You’re the girl with the ancient magic.”

MC immediately stepped back, wagging her finger at him. “Now, now, Mr Rosier, calm yourself. You’d be wise not to touch me,” she warned, allowing some of her magic to flare to life in her eyes. He immediately backed off, swearing under his breath.

Rather than looking scared, he looked intrigued, his gaze sweeping over her from head to foot. He chuckled and shook his head. “Bloody hell, I can see why Sallow is obsessed. Beautiful, dangerous, and wickedly powerful,” he said, a grin plastered across his pretty face.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her heart jumping into the back of her throat.

“He is going to be very pleased to see you, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out for her. MC gasped as he made a grab for her arm, twisting out of his reach at the last second. His hand caught her scarf, their momentum yanking against the silk and making her choke as it slid from her neck. She shoved against him, staggering away from him, his look of surprise and her scarf hanging from his grip the last things she saw before she squeezed her eyes shut and pictured the Floo point.

Her body flooded with adrenaline as the sharp crack of her Apparation sounded through the night, her feet stumbling for balance as she reappeared next to the Floo. Panicked gasps left her lips as she scooped up the powder with a shaky hand, her mind set on one thing, and one thing only as she stepped onto the stone plinth. She wanted Leander. She needed to see him, feel the comforting, enduring strength that he exuded. She wasn’t sure what scared her more, what just happened outside the pub, or the knee jerk reaction to flee towards her Auror.

“Shell Cottage!”

In a flash of green flames she left Diagon Alley behind, landing in the hearth of the cottage, the familiar distant roar of the sea welcoming her as she staggered into the living room. Leander was on the settee, a book in his hands, his face startled as she appeared. He was on his feet instantly, book tossed aside.

“You’re back so soon,” he said, hurrying to catch her as she lurched forwards. She crashed against him, hating how vulnerable she felt, but craving the solid feel of him. Her fingers curled into the softness of his jumper as his hand stroked her hair. “What happened?”

Nothing had happened, not really. She had barely got close to the pub, and one sighting of Sebastian had sent her head and heart spinning in all directions. Rosier had seen her, though. He knew she had been there, and no doubt he would tell Sebastian. He would know she had been there.

“Rosier saw me,” she murmured against his chest. “I panicked and ran. Maybe I wasn’t ready after all.”

The feeling of losing all control slid down her spine and made her fingers clutch even tighter into Leander’s jumper. The first piece had been moved on the board, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the next. She had to be, though.

Lifting her head from Leander’s chest, she looked up at him, blocking out everything else and focusing on the warm concern in his honey, brown eyes.

“What if I can’t do this?” She whispered. “They will send me back to Azkaban. I can’t…I can’t go back there.”

“You are not going back there,” he said, cupping her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “You can do this, and I’m going to help you. I won’t let you go back to that place.”

His forehead was leaning against hers, the heat of their mingled breaths fanning across her cheeks. After last night, she had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let it happen again. It wasn’t fair on him. Yet, here she was, drowning in dark, honey-brown eyes, her blood firing up as it pulsed wildly through her veins. That blurred line between them was so messed up now that it didn’t take much for her to lean closer, her eyes fluttering closed as she pressed her mouth against his. Warmth, comfort, oblivion.

His lips returned the kiss, his fingers sliding into her hair, and she moaned, savouring the feel of him. Desperate for more, her hands tugged at his clothes, her robe falling to the floor forgotten. Running from the dark, running from the confused mess in her head and chest, she once again lost herself in the flame of Leander’s fire.

Sebastian

He stared at the green silk in his hands, running it over his palms and through his fingers, lifting it closer to his face to catch again the scent of lavender soap and soft perfume. “You’re sure it was her?” He asked again, his voice strained.

Rosier nodded. “Like I said, she lit a blue and white flame in her fucking hand, Sallow. Not only that, but you should have seen the look on her face when I said your name. She went as white as a sheet.”

Sebastian had made Rosier tell him over and over about his encounter out in the street, his heart hammering so fast he could hardly breathe. He had run outside, his eyes scanning the dark despite knowing that she had Disapparated right in front of Rosier. Someone had taught her how to do that, she hadn’t known before. He had promised to teach it to her, another piece of magic that he had wanted to show her how to do, the delight at seeing her learn from him now robbed along with everything else over the last four years.

Prewett probably taught her how to Apparate, the idea of it making his hands clench and his stomach twist with envy.

MC had been there, right there on the bloody street, and he hadn’t seen her. He could hex himself. He had felt an odd tingle on the back of his neck earlier, that feeling of eyes upon him as he had gone to enter the pub. He had even taken a last look around, but there had been nothing but shadows. Had she been there watching for him?

He clutched the scarf tighter in his hand, frustration making him want to scream. Everything he wanted always seemed to be just out of his reach.

“Do you think she was looking for me?” He asked.

Rosier twisted his lips, uncertain. “When I bumped into her, she was walking away from the pub, and she definitely got all skittish like a wild pony when I tried to take her arm.”

“I wonder what she was doing,” Sebastian muttered, thoughtfully. “Whatever it was, she is getting closer, Leo. We need to keep our eyes open, just in case. I need to get to her before Rookwood does, no matter what.”

“I don’t mind keeping an eye out for her, Sallow,” Rosier smirked. “I’ve got to hand it to you, mate. You’ve got impeccable taste in the ladies.”

“Eyes only, Rosier,” he warned, narrowing his gaze at his room buddy. “Keep those wandering hands to yourself.”

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Rosier chuckled as he lit a cigarette. “I know, I know. She’s all yours, mate.”

Sebastian smoothed the silk through his fingers again. He imagined it close against the skin of her neck, the warmth of her there, and sharp longing pierced through him.

All his.

As the silk slid against the scar on his hand, he thought about his conversation with Ominis, the plan for MC to spy on Rookwood and bring him down. It looked like she was already beginning to make her moves, and he needed to be ready. It was only a matter of time before she was at his side again. Where she belonged.

To be continued…

Tag list: For always being superstars @eternalremorse and @slytherin-paramour thank you! To @marketfreshfics for being such a supportive cheerleader, and for bouncing ideas around xx

@evaslytherpuff @ravenbronze @sevprince-91 @writing-intheundercroft @loving-him-was-red13

[gamma-rae-bursts]

Home is Where the Heart Is

Yn is a former BAU agent, currently working at Georgetown. She met Alex whilst working for the FBI and is navigating her life with her and their son, Ethan.

Pairing: Alex Blake x Reader

Content Warnings: kind of CM case talk

Word Count: 1800+

Genre: Family Fluff

A/N: I'm going to stand by the fact that Alex Blake is the softest of the soft people, hence this needed to happen. I also hate how little recognition Ethan got in the show so I'm gonna give my boy what he deserves here. I'm thinking of making this into a series of one shots, different Blake Fam x Reader scenarios (may include some angst, knowing me it will) so please let me know what you think of this <3)

Joining the BAU was a dream come true, your way of making the world a safer, better place. And it just so happened to come with many other advantages. Although the beginnings were a little rough for you, feeling very out of place while being surrounded with FBI’s finest agents, soon enough they made you feel like a part of the family, like you truly belonged with them. And throughout the years you got to be a part of the team you’ve formed some of the best friendships with people that you knew you could trust with your life. But there was this one agent you held especially close to your heart, Alex Blake. Ever since she joined the team, the two of you were inseparable. One evening she finally asked you out on a date, to which you have immediately agreed. Falling in love with Alex was easy. Loving her even more so. Months went by and with that your relationship grew, soon enough you were introduced to her son, Ethan. The most precious little boy to ever exist. Not so long after that you moved in together and just a few months in Alex asked you to marry her. And this was your life now, you’ve never been happier.

But there were some definite downsides of the job. After all, there is only so much a human can take, the BAU knew it better than anyone else. There is only so much evil you can be exposed to before it starts consuming you from the inside out. You used to hold onto the last string of hope in each investigation, the hope that the last missing person would be found alive and there would be a somehow happy ending to this story. But at some point, even that was not enough. Over the years you’ve seen some of the worst horrors this world had to offer, you were met with death and misery at every step of your days. You’ve seen families torn apart, lives snatched away prematurely, unnecessary pain inflicted onto so many individuals. You’ve seen enough. You’ve had enough.

Making the decision to leave the team was not easy. You’ve spent countless hours contemplating whether or not to make that step before even mentioning anything to Alex. And after weeks of thinking, weeks of constant arguments in your head, making lists of pros and cons to both options, you finally decided that your time with the team has come to an end. 

Breaking the news to the team was easier said than done. You made a detailed plan how to tell each and every one of them personally, but when the time to put the words into action came you came up with a much better idea. Hotch was the first one, after all he was the person you handed your resignation letter to. Penelope was the second in line (or so she thought), you couldn’t stop yourself from making fun of her for the last time. In reality, you told the whole team that you were leaving and what your plan was, except for her. You knew the blonde woman could not hold a secret in for the life of her, so you all made bets on how long it will take her to spill the tea. When you broke the news to her, one on one, you talked about it as if you didn’t want the rest of the team to know. It took her a whole hour and thirty-four minutes to break, telling everything you told her to Morgan and Spencer. 

That was it. You were no longer an agent working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Just a short few weeks after leaving you managed to secure yourself a nice position as a lecturer at Georgetown University, finally putting your PhD in Biological Sciences to use. 

***

Working at Georgetown was peaceful, the change you so desperately needed. There wasn’t much going on, your days mostly consisted of teaching, going over the material for your classes and marking your students’ papers. To some it might seem a little too boring, but you loved the newly found routine. 

After finishing marking of the last papers, you’ve had for the day it was time to go home. Alex was away on a case for the past few days and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope for a phone call from her, telling you that they’re on their way back. 

Just as you got into your car the sound of your ringtone filled the space, getting rid of the silence that previously surrounded you. You smiled to yourself as you read the name that popped up on your screen.

“Hi honey.” the soft voice on the phone spoke, “I think I might have some good news for you.” Alex added, you could tell she was smiling from the way her voice sounded.

“Please tell me you’re coming home; I don’t think anything else would classify as good news at this point.” you replied to the brunette, hopeful you got it right.

“I am, indeed, we’re wrapping up at the station and we’re going to head straight to the jet.” your fiancé said with the usual for her calmness, you, on the other hand, could not contain our excitement. “I’ll see you in a few hours?”

“I can’t wait! I’ve missed you so much baby, so did Ethan” you stated, your voice filled with excitement. “He’s been begging me to do crosswords with him at least five times a day and you know how much I suck at them”

“Oh, come on, you’re not that bad” Alex chuckled, “I’m sure you’ve got at least one of the words right.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at your fiancés’ words, the bar for you was set really low, yet somehow you still managed to underperform. “Nope, not a single one, I don’t think Ethan will ever stop making fun of me for that.” Alex laughed as the words left your mouth, “but what can I say, I’d like to see either of you in my lab”

“I think putting me there would be a major safety hazard and you know that” the linguist added, still laughing at your previous statements. “I’m gonna have to go now but see you in a few hours, I love you sweetheart”

“I love you too, Lex.” you assured, after which Alex finished the call. 

On your way home you made a few brief stops to run some errands, you also picked up some of Alex’s favourite takeaway. Cooking wasn’t your strong side, but baking was, and your fiancé was completely aware of that. You usually opted for ordering food when it was your turn to make dinner, another effective tactic you’ve developed over the months was trading your cooking turns by agreeing to make some of Alex’s and Ethan’s favourite desserts.

The last stop you had to make on your way home was the little boy’s school. 

“Hi Mama!” the squeaky voice roamed through the space in your car as Ethan entered it, making himself comfortable in his car seat. 

“Hi honey, make sure to fasten your seatbelt” you replied to him softly. Ethan was a complete copy of Alex, dark, somewhat curly hair forming beautiful waves, big hazel eyes, contrasting with his pale skin, which was covered in light freckles, a precious addition to his face. “How was your day at school?” 

“It was okay!” the little boy cheered to you, “Is mommy coming back home tonight? I really miss her.”

“She is actually! I’ve just talked to her and she should be back in the next few hours,” Ethan’s eyes lit up at your words, “don’t you worry you won’t have to do crosswords with me again” you added chuckling.

“I love you mama but you’re really not good and them.” E.T. teased, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

You laughed in response to the dark-haired boy’s words. The rest of the drive home was peaceful, Ethan told you some more details about how his day at school went, talking about some of the friends he made, the teachers and what new things he learned that day. It wasn’t long until you reached your final destination, you took the food out of the car and the two of you started heading towards your apartment.

When you opened your front door a lovely smell of your favourite dish filled your nostrils, that’s when you knew Alex, was already home.

“Alex?” you questioned as you and Ethan started taking your shoes and coats off

“In the kitchen!” the woman exclaimed, you knew she had a habit of giving you the wrong time when she planned to come back home, wanting to let you know she was coming back yet still wanting to somewhat surprise you.

“MOMMY!” Ethan called as he ran to the kitchen, filled with joy and excitement to finally have his best crossword buddy back in the house.  “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Aw I’ve missed you too love bug,” she said as she gave the little boy the biggest hug she could, simultaneously picking him up. “And you, I missed you too” the dark-haired woman smiled as she directed her gaze your way. 

“You said you’d be home late in the evening!” you jokingly snarled as you took a few more steps towards her, letting her place a soft kiss to your cheek.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to surprise two of my favourite humans with a nice meal, can you?” she giggles as she put her son down.

“I see we’ve had the same plans Doctor Blake” you smiled as you put the bag with Alex’s favourite takeout on the kitchen island, at which Alex laughed and proceeded to place anther soft kiss, this time on your forehead.

The evening went by peacefully, filled with laughter and Ethan’s snarky remarks regarding your crossword skills. You decided to have Alex’s pasta for dinner, saving the takeaway for the next day, or a midnight snack. Etty was delighted to finally be able to do some crosswords with someone qualified and you just enjoyed watching the two people you loved most. The three of you ended the evening snuggled up on the couch of your living room, Alex in the middle so both you and Ethan would get equal amounts of hugs that you so dearly missed. You decided to watch one of Ethan’s favourite disney films, Frozen. As much as you didn’t want to admit that in front of Alex, it was one of your favourites too. The little boy ended up falling asleep halfway through the movie, snoring gently as he was curled up, wrapping his arms around Alex. When the film finished, you carefully took him to his room, tucking him in his bed, leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead. You joined Alex in your bedroom, wrapping your arms around her in an attempt to hold her as close to you as possible until both of you drifted off to sleep.

This was your happy place. Your found family. Your home.

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@nightmarish-fae

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[yukidragon]

Hi soo I have a question due to the ask of what if MC and Jack had a baby and Jack with Animal Ask, how do you think it be like for Shaun and Jack to just try and conversate with each other?

Well, I did mention the mechanics of how Jack could potentially communicate with Shaun in the post about Alice being pregnant with Jack's baby, that being he uses pencil and paper. I even showed a short example of some of their banter in the post.

If you're asking about what sort of relationship Shaun and Jack might have... well, we can only speculate currently, though I think a lot of it depends on how threatened Jack feels. If Shaun isn't going to take MC away from him or distract them from his existence, then Jack doesn't have a reason to go yandere.

If Jack does see Shaun as a threat... well... things could end badly. The game is called Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack for a reason.

On the opposite side of things, I think Shaun would be absolutely giddy getting to meet a real life supernatural entity. It's such a shame that there's the potential for the experience to end very, very badly for him.

I've mentioned since the beginning of my headcanon ramblings that I want Shaun and Jack to become friends in Sunshine in Hell. I think it would do Jack a world of good to have friends outside of MC, and Alice is the type of MC who would want to introduce her supernatural boyfriend to her best friend who she trusts and is open to the supernatural being real.

Of course, as I've also mentioned... Jack is going to "mark his territory" as it were. I mean, let's face it, the guy is a possessive yandere. It's going to take time for him to mellow and start trusting people who spend time with his sunshine, since they're so vital to his very existence, as suggested in the demo. This is especially true if the person is someone giving his sunshine lovesick and heartbroken looks.

This is why things between the two of them are going to be a bit rough at first, at least in my telling of the story for Sunshine in Hell. Jack and Shaun have reasons to be leery of one another. Jack is possessive of Alice and just saw her hugging and getting along with another person just the day after they first made love. Her introducing him as her boyfriend does make him a little less worried, but it's Shaun's turn to be concerned when she reveals that this ghost(?) that he can't see is her new partner.

Both Jack and Shaun love Alice(/MC). They would do a lot for her(/them) and have reasons to feel protective of her(/them). This holds true with every type of MC given what we've seen of the demo so far.

Their relationship will no doubt have some growing pains to go through at the start at the very least. There's going to be some conflict between them even if I'm sure Shaun would find the existence of a real ghost(?) to be completely awesome. Whether or not MC makes it harder or easier depends on how they handle things.

Overall, Alice is going to help mediate things between these two, and eventually Jack and Shaun will start to grow more comfortable with being friends with one another. I'm sure having more people believe in his existence is going to do Jack a world of good, and becoming friends is something that I think will benefit both of their lives.

I can't find the link to the specific post, but I could swear that I had mentioned in a previous headcanon ramble that I planned on having Alice and Jack be part of Shaun's newest horror film. Jack's ghost(?) powers will make for the most spectacular special effects ever, even if it's only doing things like making Alice and objects float around.

I also could've sworn I posted a teaser clip of Jack and Shaun's first private conversation without Alice around. Since it's been a while since I've posted any writing, how about I show it here? It's a good example of the type of conversations that I have in mind between these two. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think!

Oh, and a quick content warning for the scene: there's talk of self-destructive behaviors, excessive drinking, alcohol poisoning, descriptions of injury and blood, hospital medical procedures, toxic relationships, and near death experiences. Remember, this is an Adults Only erotic horror game. Sunshine in Hell has some darker moments in it along with sweeter ones.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

...

“Did you know that the night her ex cheated on her, Alice almost died?”

The pencil dropped.

Shaun smiled bitterly. “I’m not surprised she didn’t tell you. That’s the type of person Alice is - always trying to downplay herself.”

Jack shook as he picked the pencil back up, quickly scrawling out his next message. He almost snapped the lead from how hard he pressed into the paper. “What happened?”

Shaun let out a hiss of air through his teeth as he scratched behind his ear. As much as he wanted to impress upon this ghost or whatever Jack was the seriousness of the situation, it was a pretty horrific memory for him, one that sometimes still gave him nightmares. “Now, I don’t know every detail myself - Alice doesn’t even remember most of that night… and that’s because she drank so much booze, she gave herself alcohol poisoning. The hospital had to pump her stomach.”

Shaun paused to take a deep breath as his dark eyes went distant. “What I do know is what I saw when I found her… When I got to their place, Alice was face down on the floor, and there was blood and puke all over the place. Not sure if it was from the broken bottles or the mirror, but she smashed her head on some glass and was out cold by the time I got there. Big fucking piece of it was jammed right in her forehead when I found her.”

A shudder ran through Shaun as he closed his eyes. “I… I thought…” He paused to take a deep breath then let it out in a hiss through his gritted teeth. “Shit, man, when I found Alice like that, I thought she was dead!” He took another shuddering breath. “Thank God she wasn’t, but it was a close call. I didn’t get all the details, but she hit her head really hard. She needed a ton of stitches afterwards, and one of the guys said she was lucky it got stuck in her skull, since another inch or two lower, and she could’ve lost her eye, or worse!”

The pencil snapped in half in Jack’s hand.

Shaun looked at the half pencil that fell to the counter and let out a dark chuckle devoid of humor. “You wanna know the worst part?” He didn’t wait for Jack to write anything. “Even after all that, she still forgave that son of a bitch and tried to make it work between them.”

Jack went utterly still.

Shaun sighed and shook his head. “Like I said… Alice is way too nice for her own good, even to assholes who don’t deserve it.” He stared up above the pencil, seeking out a sign of the ghost’s face, but he was left seeing nothing but empty air. Still, he kept his severe stare locked in that middle distance. “She finally accepted that bastard was no good for her a few weeks after that and broke it off, thank God.” He let out a sigh of relief before his gaze turned hard again. “Now do you get why I’m not so convinced that she should be dating a ghost from a cursed video tape?”

Jack still didn’t move. His thoughts were a chaotic maelstrom that he fought to control. Once again he thought back to the night when Alice finally broke down and poured out her heart to him, how she wished that she could stop caring, stop loving Ian. He thought that he had heard the worst of it then, but now…

Alice almost died. That thought rang in Jack’s head like a funeral bell. She got hurt because she drank too much… and she drank too much because of Ian. She admitted that she hated the taste of alcohol, but she got drunk that night in a desperate attempt to feel better after learning that his love for her was a lie. The scar on her forehead… she brushed it aside when Jack asked about it, saying it was caused by an accident and never elaborated. That scar was caused by Ian. That scar was a wound that could have killed her.

Alice could have died long before they ever met. The thought terrified Jack. He could have never met her. His sunshine would never have rescued him from hell. He would have been left to suffer forgotten in that endless cold, and Alice, his precious sunshine, would have been just as cold and forgotten by a vile man who cared more about selfish pleasure than love.

And Alice forgave that monster. She let him hurt her again until she finally found the strength to leave him.

Jack adored how kind his sunshine was, but at the same time this proved that everything, even good things, needed to be taken in moderation. Even kindness could be toxic if there was far too much of it.

Alice really was too nice for her own good. This was just further proof that Jack was right to worry that other people would take advantage of her.

[420technoblazeit]

(this got long sorry)

the crux of the idea is the question “what if sam and dean ran into someone who has only a horror-movie level understanding of the supernatural?” it also plays with the idea of generational hunting, and expands the world of hunters who arent winchesters. its your typical monster of the week episode set in probably the second season. the beats are something like this:

cold open. girl home alone, staying up late. she hears a weird noise coming from upstairs. taking a knife from the kitchen, she goes to investigate. creepy man-looking shadow is up there, tries to attack her. she stabs him with the knife, he vanishes. she realizes that the thing was a ghost and looked like a painting her parents just bought. so she does everything under the sun to trap the ghost. salt ring, metal ring (cobbled together from necklaces and silverware), salt around the entire room including windows and door, a couple googled latin incantations, and a sprinkling of herbs from the spice drawer.

next day. someone knocks on the door. our favorite hunks, sam and dean. theyve been looking for the haunted painting and are posing as art dealers. girl wont sell the painting, says to talk to her parents, wholl be back in a couple days. they cant convince her but none of them say anything about the painting being weird. snd decide they have to steal the painting before the ghost kills her. 

that night. snd are at the house, get to the window of the room where the painting is. see all the assorted protections. door is closed but they can tell someone is behind it in the hall. ghost appears but cant do anything because salt. ghost begins threatening person behind door, person (girl) seems unfazed. snd realize theyve walked in on someone elses hunt and leave. they decide to go back again tomorrow and offer the info theyve already gathered. 

next day. snd at the door again. sam notices some sort of warding/protection symbol, confirming girl as a hunter. girl opens door, snd spill the beans and ask to come in and collab. girl is like wth are you talking about. after some discussion, snd convince her they are not insane and can do something about the homicidal ghost in her house. she lets them in and shows them the setup. its clearly the work of someone who has exactly half a clue what theyre doing, but some stuff is odd. heres more warding symbols around the house and some of the herbs are rare with no real cooking use. she mentions the stabbing/vanishing and they investigate. every knife in the house is either iron or silver. oh, and every room in the house has at least one mega-creepy painting. snd realize that the girl is not the hunter but someone in the house is. they ask about her parents. theyre art dealers who specialize in old paintings, and often go on “scouting trips” snd attempt to gently break the news that girls parents are hunters who probably deal with haunted paintings, but she doesnt want to hear it. she hasnt slept in days because of the ghost in her house and now theyre dropping like six bombshells on her at once. she kicks them out, despite them trying to stay to destroy the ghost. 

i havent got the rest of it properly nailed down but the parents come back, theres a scene where girl confronts parents about being hunters and they fess up. she runs off and snd follow her (they were outside the house). they go to talk to the parents. somehow the ghost gets killed and the paintings still intact (parents genuinely like them). parents promise to never send a haunted painting home when girl is alone and to also train her so she can protect herself if needed. snd drive off and done.

the beginning is definitely better but i kinda ran out of ideas. im pretty sure i wouldnt be able to characterize either sam or dean properly and i also know i wouldnt be able to make myself even begin writing it. also i did not explain it well. thats why i wanted to turn it over to someone else. its rough now but i trust that someone who knows more about supernatural and writing could make it good.

WAIT I FOUND IT. big poggies. also this is a cute idea i feel like ur oc would fit right in w/alex and claire and all of jodie's other kids. there's plenty of spn fanfic writers who im sure woud b thrilled to write a fic for u if u wanted to commission them!

[dailycharacteroption]

Corrupting Influences: Vampirism part 3

(art by Michelle Tolo on Artstation)

 Implications

 Though Horror Adventures was released 7 years before the time of writing this, it’s quite auspicious that I’m taking a look at this corruption in the wake of a resurgence in the popularity of vampires, ranging from ironic (Morbius) to genuine (Dracula Daily and the upcoming Last Voyage of the Demeter movie). Heck, a few years ago they put out new revised editions of Vampire the Masquerade. One might say we’re in a vampire renaissance.

But none of that matters right now, because we’re talking about the implications of a slow transformation into a vampire in your game.

 As written, this corruption occurs alongside the faster method of transforming prey into a vampire, similar to how the lycanthropy corruption works. In this case, the corruption really becomes a reflection of either the risks of fighting vampires long term, or the depredations of a single vampire. In the former case it lead to stories of who you can trust to help you when you start to turn into the very thing you fight, and who will try to preemptively slay a vampire-to-be. Not to mention the struggle of whether you will join with the vampires once you turn, or continue to fight against them.

In the latter case, however, it can lead to stories either mirroring the events of Dracula the novel, or it might be part of a complex relationship with the vampire that inflicted it upon them. Perhaps they desperately want companionship but fucked up, or maybe they want the victim to suffer before becoming their thrall, and so on.

On the other hand, if your setting replaces the normal transformation with this corruption entirely, then vampires might not be as common in your setting, being limited to singular powerful vampire lords and their spawn. Alternatively, if they are common, they might outnumber the living in lands forsaken by light and benevolent gods, where mortals live in fear of vampire masters, who are always on the lookout for fresh blood in every sense of the phrase.

The existence of this corruption does bring up interesting questions about the nature of the vampiric curse, particularly since there are several other varieties of undead that are classified as vampires or vampire-adjacent beyond the classic vampire, which Pathfinder calls the Moroi. The fact that a corruption exists where a living victim becomes a vampire before dying makes vampirism seem much more insidious than the typical “get killed by a certain undead, rise as the same type, usually under their control” sort of deal that many other undead have.

There is a heavy horror element in the lead up to gaining this corruption, since the victim regularly gets weaker but may not know what is happening to them, forcing the party to work quickly to figure out what is happening to their friend. Perhaps worse though is the prospect of the character knowing what is happening, either from the start or because they figure it out and may or may not be able to stop it, dreading each night. And it doesn’t end once they get the corruption either, as the vampire probably won’t stop feeding on them or at least visiting them to encourage them to fully transform.

Further compounding the nightmare is what happens to you, the person as you begin turning. Constantly there is this thirst for blood. While not truly nourishing, the hunger for it does not cease, and as the corruption progresses, it becomes easier to justify feeding from innocents, citing desperation, the value of one’s own life, and eventually, viewing other lives as cattle.

It’s also worth noting that in the book, when the heroes finally found Lucy after she fully turned, she appeared before them as a creature that had Lucy’s appearance and memories, but none of her soul, her identity replaced by a thing born out of unholy bloodlust. The prospect of becoming something like that, even if the GM allows for the possibility of redemption, could be truly horrifying.

 That will do for now, but tomorrow, we’ll take a look at how we can vary up this corruption!

[arainmorn-art]

A path of self-destruction

So I’ve seen that 14th March is Write Your Story day. Sounds neat, though I have no ideas for fiction to write about right now. But I have a personal story. I wanted to write about it for quite some time, because for some weird reason I feel more comfortable writing about some psychological stuff in English. It seems easier - and safer. Here might be no people that know me personally. And with a small audience it also feels... like I am in a small circle of silent respectful strangers, telling my story without a chilling fear of being interrupted or shunned. Or being avoided. 

People don’t like sad body horror stories. 

It’s an act of self-preservation for sure, our mind tries to protect us from horrible things, as it tries to be a protective parent guarding its kid. I understand it. It’s not like I tell the whole story to everyone, firstly it would take a long time, secondly - I don’t like making people upset. If people around me, who like me, are getting upset only by mentioning a miniscule part of stuff, why should I force them to listen the rest?

But sometimes... I need to tell it. 

Heh. And how should I begin?

“There once was a girl with a loving family. She had both parents, a mother and a father. But strangely the girl was growing up strongly relating to fatherless kids her age. She was growing up waiting for her father’s death”

An intriguing kind of start, I hope. 

The thing is it’s quite hard for me to tell you about only this part of my forming years, because right after high school there were also several traumatic circumstances I lived with, and stories about my dad and the coup, and the civil war, and severe trust issues, and loosing a feel of basic safety, and a crushing feeling of being a hated outsider in my own country are heavily intertwined. But... I doubt my writing abilities to tell you everything in one post. Maybe next time. I’ll mention those situations briefly, just keep in mind that... well, it was all happening at the same time.

So.

“She was a shy girl, whimsy and timid, a kind that usually becomes some sort of an artist. Five years might be not the best age to learn about death, but this realization came to her quite early. We all gonna die, she realizied, and nothing will stop it. She cried and ran to the kitchen to her mom, looking for comfort, but mom couldn’t say anything to console her. “It happens in many years!”, she tried to tell her crying daughter. She wasn’t expecting this conversation so soon”

I don’t know how others get this awarness of their own mortality. I simply haven’t asked, actually. I got mine after watching Conan the Barbarian and The Fifth Element movies. Oh, and add Princess Mononoke to this soup. And many 80s and 90s scince fiction and action movies, that were by far not kid-friendly! Yeah... my mom admits she and my dad were stupid to show me these movies before elementary school, but now I can tell young gen-Ziers that in my time we were much tougher kids!.. Well, come on, don’t give away all the credits to Don Bluth, a Grand Child Traumatizer, an old Total Recall was a blast! :D 

My mom also thinks that there were too many familiar people who died through my forming years, both relatives and friends. I don’t know, maybe she is right. My grandpa was buried at the day of my 14th birthday, a year before two family friends died, a year after there were grand-grandma and three family friends, and many more...

14 years old. Yeah. I remember, it was a first time when I thought: “My dad will probably die because of a stroke. His face gets so red when he is screaming in anger”. 2008 year, hello, House M.D., teaching me new words.    

“A girl was told by her dad that she had a happy childhood, a roof above her head, a food on her table and some money. Often told. Constantly told. It was true, but was there a need to repeat it? He needed to. He also told her he can clearly see she doesn’t value anything he gave her. That she doesn’t respect him. He demanded love. He believed there were all the ingredients for happiness. He was telling it but he rarely talked to her. They lived in one appartment yet she felt they were a little closer than strangers”

My dad was a complicated man to say the least. He was a large man with a strong physique, a wide chest yet narrow shoulders. His features were rounded: a round face, a big nose, plump lips, bushy eyebrows, even his black beard was making him feel rounder. My whole childhood I was told I was a female copy of him. He was a man leaving a grand impression about him, a succesful man, loved by his friends, relatives and wife... and strangely enough he was also an absent father.

 For some reason I still can vividly remember his dark yellow teeth, black on the edges, and a brown tongue behind them. He drank a very strong black tea, 2 to 4 teabags at the same time in a large cup. The stains after such tea was impossible to wash away. Oh, and I just have to mention the amount of smoking he had. Pack after pack. Some fathers quit smoking when they get kids. My father was smoking even when I, being an infant, was sleeping near him in my mom’s embrace. I never smoked myself. Never ever. 

The smell of cigarettes was everywhere. It was on the furniture, on my clothing, on my hair. The smell was so strong sometimes my teachers in school were asking if somebody recently smoked, although I was a whole day away from home. The smoke turned wallpapers in my dad’s room yellow; a lamp, a table, a computer and bookshelves had a very distinct greasy feel about them because of resin and dust. Maybe only whiskey and vodka bottles were cleaner. They were changing often.

My mom was worried about him. She called it “a path of self-destruction”.

And he still had a leg in those years.

It was 2011, I was still 16, soon turning 17, when I heard about the second type diabetes. I didn’t understand how it workes, but the most shocking news were: “They are going to amputate your father’s big toe”. Oh man, it’s so silly now how scared I was. 

It’s just a toe. 

What’s weird to me to remember that from this and several years later I was fixated on the topic of amputation. It was a repeating theme in my sketches... though it weren’t legs. It were hands. A crying mermaid with amputated hands. A cheerful alien with stumps instead of her arms, with clunky prosthesises made of thin metal tubes. A monster bleeding out with a chopped arm. Zombies falling apart. Decaying robots. A blood. A torn skin. Scars. Bare bones. And crying. Lots of crying characters. It was my weird way of coping. 

So the doctors kept slicing his foot until there were no toes on it.

I thought he was powerful. I thought he could hurt me, though not physically. He never beated me, no. Though I was so stressed I believed my scared mom, that he could kicked us out of the house. 

Bones in my dad’s foot were destructing, because he was refusing to change his lifestyle, even at cost of his own health.

I was 19. It still is a gentle age for a girl. I needed a feeling of safety... and yes, I had it at home. While also being afraid of my dad’s rage, if he knew about my sexuality.

Even if he was already in a wheelchair without a leg. 

And then the coup in 2014 happened. I lived several districts away from it. For me it was one of the most traumatising events. It was brutal. I was afraid I could be killed just while walking with my dog. The world I’ve lived before was burning alive in front of my eyes. People were drunk of inpunishability. A feeling of safety was lost for many years. 

The only thing in her terrified words might be true that he could turn our lives into emotional torture. Oh, he was very good at making you feel like a trash. Like the lowest of the low. Like a pathetic piece of a garbage.

 My father was afraid of death and uncertainty. Numbing himself with alcohol he was able to push through those fears and take care of me and my mom. The truth is... he was a weak man, too. Instead of trying to discipline himself so diabetes would stop devouring his body, the bloodvessels in his brain, his eyes, his legs, his kidneys, my father just... stayed on the path of self-destruction.

No cries would convince him to change so he could stay longer with his loving family.

No foul wound would stop him.

I was 21. I remember that night, when he returned from the hospital. He seriously was at the death’s door. Before his return I’ve cried for several hours feeling guilt that I was angry at him, being horrified that I might loose him. When he returned, I thought about all the inspirational movies I’ve watched, you know, that kind: “After near death experience our protagonist will find a will power to change his life!”. I loved such kind of movies. 

I wanted them to be truth.

I’ve heard my mom starting to weep when she walked out of my dad’s room, yellow of nicotine. I walked into his room and saw him... smoking and pouring a glass. He wanted to relax. As if nothing has happened. As if me and my mom hadn’t cried our eyes out for him.

It was the first time I’ve screamed at him in rage. I was afraid of my dad for those last years, I was always meek and passive around him because he would easily suppres me. But I was enraged at that moment. How dare he smoke after everything. How dare he drink after what doctors told us: “You can start mourning”, because his kidneys were clearly failing. And he was surprised, of course. He started laughing at me. “Look at you! You can be like that?”. I remember his dark yellow teeth glistening in the light of a table lamp. He was laughing in self-defense.

“Hey, look at her!” - he called my mom, rolling his wheelchair to the bathroom door. He kept laughing, almost hysterically, as we both could clearly hear my mom hopelessly crying in the shower.

I felt so much disdain, and anger, and sadness, but most of all - the horror of understanding. Dad was still laughing. My outburst had no other way to leave my chest but to shout at the top of my lungs right in my father’s face: “I wish you would die already!”

He stopped laughing.

I ran to the kitchen and burst into tears sitting on the floor, as that new realization weakened my knees.

There was no hope.

It was not an inspirational movie. It was not a fairytale. It was not a story about taking control over your life and trying to save it. 

It was a story about unstoppable relentless self-destruction. No matter how many bones would crumble, how much flesh would be cut away, how further blind he would become.

It was despair. Soul-crushing despair. In the chaotic world after the coup, during the civil war, where it still felt safer beside my half-blind father with no leg on the wheelchair, than far from him... there were no hope that he would live long enough to even see me graduating from university.

About two more times he was also near death. Diabetes killed his kidneys.

“There once was a boy in a body of a big grown man. Both of his parents died of cancer. His lighthearted yet timid father faded away, turned into a skeleton covered with skin. His narcissistic mother, who looked like a giant jellyfish on her deathbed, died right after her son scolded her for tormenting a nurse. The boy was so lonely and sad no one around him could bring him comfort. Even the sight of sauce that his mother cooked him in the past could brought him into tears. It reminded him how harsh he was with her right before she died. He didn’t say goodbye. Or that he loved her”

I haven’t told my father a proper goodbye either.

I was abroad trying to date a girl that was clearly not a good match for me. I was looking for comfort and haven’t find any. My mother hasn’t told me anything before I returned home. She thought I was happy and didn’t wanted to ruin that trip for me. For several days she was forcing a smile for me during videocalls.

It was cerebral edema. He died at night, delirious and screaming, shouting us to run away, so the infamous nazi gang from my country wouldn’t catch us. She told me when I’ve returned home and at first I haven’t any words to say or any tears to cry.

The 6th January of 2017 was the date of his death.

He kept slowly dying over the next couple of years.

People were confused how I could be so stoic at the funeral. I don’t know myself. I just felt hollow. My mom though was falling apart, overventilating as she tried not to cry while seeing her husband in the coffin. She asked my cousin to slap her across the face so she would no lose consciousness - and yeap, it was me who slaped her, as my cousin was too shocked by such request. I felt that me being calm and stable helped my mom more than anything. I supported her. I gave her comfort. The world was crushing for her without him.

While I was thinking... that, strangely enough, my world continued to exist.

I’ve cried for my father’s death several times, but the death itself wasn’t happening. And when it finally happened, there were not many tears left. Though I still feel the ache in my heart for him. He was so lonely. He had such a big responsibility on his shoulders, he continued to work even in the hospital bed so he could provide us. He tried to protect us from the evil of the world around us even at his last moments.

I respect it tremendously, dad.

I’ve looked into my old drawings I have on my PC. My gosh. So many crying people. I haven’t realized before, how many tears were shed without actual tears, but through my artwork.

It’s such a pity we couldn’t became closer.

Eh.

It’s been six years.

I suppose I can say I’m no longer a person I used to be. I hope so. I was such a coward. 

It’s 3 am on my clock, I’ve been writing for five hours in one sit, gosh darn it. Perhaps I really needed it.    

And I feel better.

Despite everything happened between us, I still love you.

[afriendlyood2]

Confession of the most arrogant sjw ever, aw shiiii

hello, I have a flow of thoughts about hyperreality, digital instruments, fandoms and anger and arrogancy...

and mental health of course

so basically many influencers before my unpopular and even cancelled ass already noted that we have entered this digital agenda era when gadgets are stealing our attention and overwealm our brain to the point that we forget our own thoughts and real world around us

and that is their very agenda, as digital marketing specialists are batteling for the space on our phone screen and seconds of our attention, and public speakers and polititians are battling to drag us into the discourceTM bc "how can you be out of politics you ignorant jerk the world is on fire" etc etc. many described these mechanisms before so I won't repeat what they have said already, it's out on Youtube and many otehr resources.

and also many said before me how fandom discourse went to shit... well, it was shit even in my youth... we would battle over this problematic bullshit even by that time which was the early social media era of late 00s - early 10s (now it is even more radicalized though, to my horror)

but I as a millenial am horrified of how gen z and gen alpha folk are not yet realizing where it will get them in 10-15 yrs time... it will get them in hell, as I as a 30 yrs old millenial see from my own exeperience. some of them won't even survive mentally and I am even not overstimating the problem, as this is also real.

back in the day we had this cursed AOT fandom. I knew a girl from my city (I was in early 20s she was still a school teen) - an easy imaginable situatuion, as the fandom is mostly made of these age people. notable mention - by that time culture geek culture wasn't open to the self critisism sentiment yet, actually the opposite - geeks were made cool, "brainy is the new sexy" bullshit was sold to you by sherlock bbc or the big bang theory or shit like that, so geeks and especially millenials were HIGHLY arrogant and gatekeeping (i mean uss callister was yet to happen, in the meantime we actually head star trek into darkess coming out tbh). add that to the western way of white saving everyone and pull the discourse from a higher position of somebody morally dominant and 'progressive' and you will get quite a sick mental cocktail to spoil everybody more or less geeky and intellectual stepping into the online fandom game, especially if you faced bulling in school before that or smth... that shit alltogether can make you this arrogant main character with savior complex, fr, and I am horrified to see that in modern fandm teens cause THEY HAVE NO IDEA where it can lead them, yet I sadly do.

well /dark batman music theme/ let me tell you where it can get you you little arrogant social justice dick reading this

back in the day I as I told you I knew a girl who did some AOT fanfiction which you guys as I did by the time would call problematic. because that's what you see online right? a person writing some hateful words in their art online. basically puting a negative emotion of hate and only that emotion, not what stands behind it and creates it - you're to arrogant to see that, so you judge that little hateful teen (the fact that we are making teens feeling negative things 'problematic' is some sick shit to begin with in the first place - they are teens they are SUPPOSED to feel these things, the world is going at them, come on). that fact that I was arrogant to judge her even though we had an attempt at friendly conversation and understading each other... basically it locked her up - if a person judges you, you don't wanna talk to that person, you close from that person right? yep. that's what she did... as somebody who was ACTUALLy bullied by everybody by the time, literally by everybody from her social circle - and she WOULD tell me if she would trust me enough and if I wouldn't judge her, thus I would give her shelter orgs and psychiatrists or smth, I knew some by the time so could help.

thing is the girl - tw here - killed herself. I got to know that stuff from her then-time bf who came in his riddler era to avenge me later in 2020 and for damn sure he hated my arrogant ass as I was an adult who knew his gf and had recouses for giving helo yet not the knowledge of the girl's sutiation, and not to mention we are from the same city btw. bruh my mental image crumbled right before me and in intence karma hit I tried to repeat this girl's fate TWICE since 2020, and second attempt was here in Krk after I escaped Kharkiv in 2022, this year's June. I considered myself not worthy of life and happiness because I didn' see her troubles back then.... ugh.... call that catholic gulit of smth, but I am eating myself to this day. many say - this doesn't help actually and you need to live and help the living, not to crumble over the dead ones. but for damn sure I feel the guilt EVEN THO I am not her abusive classmates or older 'protectors'.

Social justice is sometimes arrogant and blind and it SHOULD NOT BE goddammit, stop and reflect on yourselves - are you really that morally right?

Also dear gen z and gen alpha

Those who have an ok social circle of family and friends - pls drop ya phone and get to them RIGHT NOW. For those who escape to the digital world from abusive surroundings - bruh some of us out there are arrogant as shit, but please tell your pains and seek for help I beg ya, and seek for shelter in REALITY, cause YOUR REALITY is abusive in the first place and just running into the virtual world sadly won't save ya, you need a safe space irl as well fr.

That's my message of this awful Batman Daredevil and oh my god Lenny Bellardo kinnie I am in my 30s. It is not told in calm voice, I am screaming here to ya. Shit will get fucked fr. Take care of these things pls.

P.S. as tho my arrogancy in that interaction was real - these folks, oh the irony, used my guilt to put not just her death on me (even tho it's on her abusers), but also the mess in the workplace of my ex boss - not to mention she later put the death of an ex colleague on me (jeez she died because of being overwelmed by activism she did during the war so this is ON OUR ATTACKERS DAMMIT) cause it was so suitable to force me into guilt for something I am not responsible for, so she and these folks became as ugly in social justice as I am LOL. Such an irony of things turning back at them right? All these people are Ukr refugees like me btw. We all have to learn fron this.

[maskedemerald]

Hi hi~ What stories/writing have you been working on lately? Gimme a big introduction to your creation(s)!

Hi! I'm currently working on 4 major projects in various states of done... (shoves the large list of back burner projects under the rug.) ignore that rug and instead look under the read more because this got long.

A Curiosity Piqued - The Last Straw

Formerly known as Magi PI

This is the big one right now, like scary levels of big both physically and in terms of my focus. A Curiosity Piqued is a series of short novellaish length stories that I'm writing. They are set in an alternate world and an alternate version of the city I live in. A world where everyone has magic, has had it since the beginning of time and like humans do they have scienced the hell out of it. The stories are full of world building, exploring the world and the lives of various characters within. Nearly all the stories are intended to be able to stand alone so people can start where they like. Kind of like how you can drop in to watching something like CSI at almost any episode and have things make sense.

As you can see this is a big on going project and I haven't even mentioned that subtitle yet! The Last Straw is going to be the first story and it's practically finished! Just some final touch editing and a cover to go! I am both excited and terrified. The story is a Slice of Life/Mystery that introduces one of the characters that a lot of the stories will follow. A soon to be private detective living in the 1800s of that alternate world. Aelfraed is just starting an arc of self discovery. After the stress of family and university get to much for him he takes an impromptu break. He hopes just for some time to settle his mind, instead he ends up stumbling on the attempted murder of a Baker. It's a rush to save the man and then comes the question of who attacked him.

It should be coming out in the next couple of months, I had to push it back due to a few bits of life chaos. End of the summer is what I'm looking at. Oh and as a treat here is something I did for the cover,

Magic Act

An old idea that crawled out from under that back burner rug earlier this year. It's changed so much its almost unrecognisable.

Magic Act is a YA Romance/Mystery with a good amount of horror vibes too. I tackled it's discovery draft for April's Camp NaNo and now I'm working on creating a proper outline for the true first draft.

It's about a trans boy with a passion for magic tricks who after a string of strange disappearances in his town accidentally becomes a witness to one and in his escape falls into a pocket dimension home to the Fae and other folklore creatures. Unfortunately his pursuer is native to the place and has followed him. He now has to trust in a risky Fae ally that might turn on him at any moment while trying to pull of the biggest magic trick of his life... and trying to get back home.

Slow burn and dangerous allies to lovers. Lots of soft horror and spooky Fae and other creatures. Honestly the original idea is boring in comparison to the new one that came about with an unexpected love of writing soft horror. (seriously, this is from someone who hates horror movies but found a certain horror style of writing that was just so my jam)

A Kind of Freedom

This one is old, the first story I ever reached the end of but also my first ever NaNoWriMo. Honestly the ending never sat right but now I'm in the process of rewriting the whole of the ending chapters to something that does fit.

Very much a fantasy adventure this one but it's also one of my more experimental narrators. It's written in first person from the point of view of a spirit who comes to possess the body of a knight's errand boy. It's about the two learning to trust each other when one is literally the others worst nightmare and to unravel a plot by the strange figure that unintentionally got them into this mess.

Oh and this counts as writing too its just not a book,

Light of the Oubliette

It's a visual novel, and it definitely counts. Any game would count. Light of the Oubliette is a story about identity both in the past and the choice of who to be now. It's a mystery game. The protagonist wakes with no memory of who they are and in a cell with a fang of criminals but soon the guards are there and that's where things get complicated. Both sides have a different story for who you are. Guard or Criminal or are they both lying? Try to learn who you were from connecting the stories and spotting the lies but is that who you want to be?

[nixthelapin]

I sort of agree, I agree a lot of “critiques” now are very cinemasins-esc in that they just don’t have answers yet (we have a big problem with wanting immediate gratification). Like the stuff she found out about as Hoaxer, the multiple identities, her being at the mansion to get the Butterfly, and that weird glow that appeared at the very end are all clearly going to be expanded on in s6&7.

HOWEVER- I think a big thing with the Miraculous fandom specifically, in regards to not like Lila as the new villain, in these critiques is a lack of trust in the writing team as a whole, but also more specifically with Lila as a character. (I could bring up general writing issues, but I’ll keep to some of my personal issues with Lila to keep the conversation simple).

As a commenter mentioned, her lies really aren’t that good most of the time. There are definitely cases of her manipulating well, like when she managed to convince Natalie to let her into Adrien’s house, or how she used her and Marinette’s bad relationship to frame her for antagonizing her (and people will believe that because they think she just hates Lila due to their crushes on Adrien). But then there are little lies like meeting or being friends with a bunch of celebrities but never showing evidence- if I or my friends ever met someone famous, I’d show and/or demand pictures (not even in the “pics or it didn’t happen” since, but wanting to see or share a cool thing that happened). Specifically, I feel like Alya, the investigative reporter, should be onto her more. It makes more sense when Lila first appears to believe her, as they just met her and Alya is still learning, but I think some amount of skepticism should’ve come up when claiming to be Ladybug’s bff because of how serious she is about her secret identity and keeping things professional (which Alya has witnessed). Or at the very least, Alya believes her, but then tries to get an interview with Ladybug about it later.

But those smaller lies are small potatoes in comparison to my biggest issue with Lila as a character: the end of s3 into s4.

So as previously mentioned, I think how Lila framed Marinette and turned people against her was decently well done (though I think having her parents not believe their own daughter was a bit far, but I digress). But the second Lila admitted to lying (after Adrien makes her lol), she should’ve been completely discredited. I’m not sure if the rest of the class or school heard her excuse of having a “compulsive lying disorder,” but either way, with or without that, they should never believe her again after such a major event. She almost got their friend, someone they know to be reliable, enough for them to vote her as class rep and call on her for help with their various personal problems, expelled over a lie. She almost ruined Marinette’s life! And nothing? She gets zero consequences and the only ones who are mad are Marinette (the victim) and Adrien (who has witnessed her lies from the beginning and saw her exposed by Ladybug). Even Marinette’s parents aren’t mad about it! S5 even shows Marinette’s mom getting closer to Lila in that art class she teaches! Becoming close with your kid’s bully is something you’d find in those Reddit horror stories to show what a terrible person the parent is, not to show how good of a manipulator the kid is (both can be true, but the parent is still terrible, yet Sabine is not ever called a terrible mother by the narrative for this- just because she’s usually great doesn’t make this a horrible thing to do).

Next- also as mentioned, Lila told Alya she was bffs with Ladybug. Even if I find Alya believing this annoying, I can deal with it somewhat. BUT, what I can’t accept is Alya still believing Lila’s nonsense after learning that Marinette is Ladybug. Marinette hates Lila, therefore that lie cannot be true. Alya is supposed to be smart, she’s shown many times to be smart, yet she trusts this girl over her best friend who is also her favorite superhero. I’m not saying Marinette being Ladybug makes her infallible and that Alya should believe everything she says (because Marinette is fallible, she’s human and still a teenager). But her words should definitely carry more weight, especially since she sees more sides of Lila than at school. Marinette has many examples: that first one about the bff thing, stealing Adrien’s book (since Alya knows about the Grimoire now, saying how she got it shouldn’t be an issue), pretending to be a superhero to get Adrien’s attention (added bonus of how she knew Lila lied about the Fox: the old guardian had it! It obviously couldn’t have been with Lila or her family!!), teaming up with Oni-Chan (akumatized Kagami from s2) just to hurt Ladybug (something Chat Noir would even be able to back up if needed)- and those are just at the top of my head! Not to mention Tikki was with Marinette the whole time, so she can confirm to Alya about some of the things that happened at school (like Lila threatening Marinette in the bathroom).

There’s also that scene in s5 where Adrien finally backs up Marinette about Lila being a liar, but Alya and Nino both disregard him because he’s just “doing it for his girlfriend,” which makes them look both dumb and like bad friends. And just the whole thing of replacing Marinette as class rep in the last week or so of school is just dumb on a logistical level. Just wait until next year! You don’t do elections this late for a position like this unless the current person is incompetent or unavailable. They have no reason to distrust Marinette in the position, they’re shown to trust her deeply, yet they easily get rid of her, just like when Lila framed her in s3 (so they haven’t learned anything). It doesn’t make Lila look like a smart manipulator, it makes everyone else look stupid.

I do think the s5 finale leaves some interesting set ups, and I’ve seen some great fanfic so far taking these ideas in really cool directions. But for me personally, I have a hard time taking Lila/Cerise/Iris/whatever seriously as a villain because of how poorly they’ve handled her in the past. I saw your response comment correcting someone about plot armor being just about the inability to kill a character, which is true, but idk what other term to use here (idk if one exists, I’d love to learn it if there is one). While she’s not in a life or death situation, she’s been often framed as undefeatable, which is close enough to unkillable for me to use the phrase. While she did get exposed as Lila, it’s shown to be pointless almost immediately because she’s still a threat at large. It’s like getting impaled in the stomach but getting up and brushing it off like a scratch. I think the semantics of what “plot armor” means doesn’t take away the fact that Lila isn’t allowed to lose, even when it would make sense for her to (Ladybug also has this to an extent, which annoys me as well, so I’m not just upset with Lila’s character for this).

Sorry for the long post, but I wanted to show that while I agree with you on the specific types of critiques about the ending with Lila, I think a lot of is stems from people having larger issues with the character herself and the writing as a whole. I didn’t cover everything you did in your post, just the Lila stuff (I definitely have opinions about the rest, but this is long enough I think…). Sorry if it comes off as angry, it’s not intended that way. Idk what your opinions are on the points I brought up since you only mentioned the s5 ending, but I’d love to hear if you’re willing to :)

The Miraculous Fandom really seems to lack imagination.

I found a video essay calling Lila aimless as a villain but like… maybe they’re going to reveal what her game in Season 6 will be.

Maybe she wants the world kissing her foot?

Maybe she wants to stop living lies and have the perfect life.

Maybe she wants all her lies to be true and have an extraordinary life?

Dunno but it’s fun to speculate.

And I refer to CinemaSins because a common facet of their “critiques” are just questioning things that either are on a need to know basis exposition wise orrrrrr didn’t need much explanation aside from, say, magic exists.

There’s also an unwillingness to look at something for what it is and analyze it appropriately but rather lambast it for something it isn’t.

So many are hung up on being blue balled by a Chloe’s would’ve been redemption arc yet and deeper look into her doubling down on being nasty as well as how she’s an example of some people choosing not to be helped or sabotaging her efforts to turn herself around.

How she demonstrates the banality of evil and, while not super riveting, is a story that feeds into the themes of the masks we wear and what persona we put on.

Adrien wasn’t there to see Gabriel off but how might that serve the story in Season 6 since Lila knows how his father truly died yet so many act like the show’s over. Frankly, they were very economical with this story and made a good call to not overload the Season 5 finale's storyline with something so loaded like Adrien learning true origins.

Imagine how Season 6 and 7 may contend with this, especially when Lila likely knows. She couldn't have asked for a better weapon against Ladybug. And Marinette will have the truth weighing on her mind in lying not just to Chat Noir but also Adrien.

So many claim that the story and plot never process but Season 4 and five have virtually no filler with at least ONE episode having something going on that affects the wider tapestry of the slowburn story.

For god’s sake, guys, can we balance what we what with what the show chooses for itself? People are still uppity about Migration despite Luka coming back under Su-Han’s tutalege. Him knowing how to ward off Akumas sure will come in handy.

[creppersfunpalooza]

☄️ Comet - Who is your most self destructive character? Why are they like that?

🌑 New moon - Who is your most mysterious character? Are they different from what people assume?

☄️ : I had to think about this actually. My initial thought was Koi. I mean, just look at him. He keeps digging himself a deeper hole by indulging in unhealthy habits and has no respect for himself anymore. Yeah, it gets better over time, but he’s a little pathetic at first.

and then I realized that it’s not Koi. It’s never been Koi.

ITS THIS GUY RIGHT HERE!!

quick cw shoehorned in here: quick and brief mentions of addiction, implications of domestic abuse, self destructive tendencies, and that should be it but just be careful going into it yeah OH WAIT SHIT I FORGOT THE BODY HORROR

yes, i know he looks similar to TBR, yes, that is intentional (they’re brothers). This right here is Whitey. Both Whitey and TBR were highly intelligent, with Whitey’s intellect and magical brilliance being apparent from a very young age. He, however, is also a very insecure person. He could even be considered a pushover. He wants to blend in to a crowd. He has aspirations but unlike TBR, he sees them as unrealistic and settles for second best. He becomes a lawyer because he thinks it would keep his mind working, but falls into a spiral of uncertainty and incompleteness. This leads him down a path of unhealthy habits and coping mechanisms (gambling addiction and drinking problems), until it eventually fucks him over so bad that he gets himself into a situation he can’t get out of. Like big time. It’s a little hard to explain since I’m still making rewrites, but he gets into a pretty terrible relationship and gets trapped in it (i promise this isn’t as common of a theme as it seems to be in my stories between him and rosé loll). He loses his will entirely and is slowly driven further to the brink of what he can handle. It gets to a point where he’s trying to think of any possible way to make do with the lifestyle he’s been forced into, going as far as to consider something pretty damn close to lobotomizing himself. And in the end? What does it all come to? He’s killed by one of the few people he felt like he could still trust. At his tipping point where he’s about ready to give up, when his option is to either fight or die, he makes his choice.

and yeah uhm the god of death isn’t too happy about that and pretty much just keeps him in purgatory because she felt a bit petty (she made a bet on his life). it’s a lot to explain and i can do a deeper explanation on it but not right now because i’m not feeling too motivated to talk abt him. still thinking a lot abt some of my other guys.

🌑: Most mysterious? hmmmmmm. It’d either go to Bliss or one of the creations of death. Bliss is from another time and plane. She’s very arrogant and thinks of her (and her vessel) as more important than the people around her due to her once royal status. She is very uncooperative and apathetic towards anyone other than Kate. She has a bit of a god complex herself. While people don’t exactly misjudge her, they don’t realize the full extent of her. She’s seen the world change and warp for at least a century, she’s learned it’s dirty and flawed. Nobody here is perfect, and that’s not what she’s used to. It’s not her standard.

The creations of death (unofficially titled as martha, that one fucking tree, the significantly cooler tree that’s not really a tree and probably won’t be a tree in the revamp, and the only one who can fucking move) have been in the wonderrealm since close to its beginning. They are it’s original inhabitants. Martha is a hivemind, expanding off of collecting the souls of the lost. It grants them with a home and community. They still have their free will and thoughts inside of the mind, but work as a singular entity outside. They’re unified by Martha. Martha also provides those in close proximity to it with wealth and joy, creating a lure for newcomers. Martha itself cannot think the same way the people who are part of it think. Martha is abstract and conceptual. It cannot be comprehended. “Martha” is just a nickname given from the people inside of the mind, but Martha seems to like it. That One Fucking Tree is a much more malicious entity. It feeds off of the cruelty of others in exchange for youth and beauty. Like Martha, it wishes to grow influence. It requires patrons. The patron, fueled by vanity, will deliver it regular sacrifices in order to keep their youth. The sacrifices in question will be fused into its biomass, oftentimes unwillingly, but subdued by its presence. i hate this tree. i hate it a lot. i might scrap it because i do not like this tree. but it is technically important to the world building. also it sounds very similar to a character i cannot and will not discuss here from a separate thing (theorists do not see this this is not for your eyes). Then you have the cooler tree. This tree which is likely not going to be a tree is a little entity who lives in the catacombs of the old diamond palace. it’s a living creature that provides safety and sanctuary to those who read to it. that’s it. it’s very harmless and just wants more knowledge. maybe the tree wants to take over the world, but for now it is but a sapling. Finally, we have the only one with legs. Lady Luck. She has a significantly different form, with it being more mobile and humanoid, but still distinctly different than a normal person. She’s revered as a goddess by many in the Wonderrealm. She could never be in the same place for very long, but it’s said that any who gave her a golden coin or a marble or something shiny would be gifted eternal luck. While it’s not apparent whether or not these stories were true, her existence is undeniable… Or was. Nobody’s seen her for years. again i’ll probably get around to doing a deep dive on more of these characters but for now i’m feeding you bits and pieces.

so dig in :3