#and james played a good part in making him the monster

[lilithofpenandbook]

The entire Harry Potter series is really Severus Snape's story as told by Harry.

The story all began with Severus, the boy targeted and abused and doomed to a dark path by the supposed "good guys".

The story ends with Albus Severus Potter, one of his names after the bravest man Harry ever knew. The bravest man being the headmaster from Slytherin, not the headmaster from Grynfindor.

[bobluvbot]

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much. 

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief. 

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop. 

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.  

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you. 

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year. 

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it. 

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly. 

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise? 

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too? 

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it. 

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating. 

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing. 

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice. 

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were. 

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait. 

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence. 

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in. 

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.” 

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room. 

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend. 

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun. 

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged. 

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again. 

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together. 

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal. 

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory. 

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in. 

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but  ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool. 

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back. 

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well. 

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius. 

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet. 

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private. 

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain. 

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.

[eternallyordinary]

"He Belongs to You" - Part 18

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Summary: As the past settles, a new understanding emerges—one built on power, possession, and an unbreakable bond.

Warnings: sexual assault trauma, obsession, possessive behavior, power imbalance, death, violence, harassment, implied dark themes, smut

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Once the door shuts behind you, Homelander changes. The quiet restraint he’d held onto for you disappears instantly. He turns to them, hands clasping behind his back. For a beat, there is silence—thick, suffocating. Then, he smiles.

A slow, curling grin that promises nothing but agony.

“You know… I’ve spent my whole life pretending I care what people think. Trying my best to play by their stupid fucking rules.”

He steps forward, deliberate, controlled. The boys shrink back, any bravado they had left evaporating. Jimmy clutches at his bruised throat, eyes wide with dawning horror. Even he seems to realize—there is no getting out of this.

“But the thing is…” Homelander’s smile stretches wider, his gaze just like a predator surveying their prey. “I don’t need to pretend right now, do I?”

He stops in front of Jimmy, crouching down so they are eye to eye.

“You made her ask me,” he whispers, voice laced with something terrifyingly close to amusement. “You made her look me in the eyes and ask me to do it. That was you. All you.”

Jimmy lets out a choked noise, his whole body trembling.

“Now, that’s real fucking special. Don’t you think so, James?”

Homelander continues to survey the room with a casual indifference, only making the tension more unbearable.

“Well, boys—since we’re gathered so intimately in this lovely little space, why don’t we try to get to know each other better?” He smirks. “Not that I want to. Or need to.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with a quiet, merciless kind of danger. “I’ll be honest, guys—I already know everything. Your family’s names. Your pets’ names. Hell, I even know your blood types. Type O, right, Trevor? A universal donor. How selfless.”

He lets his words hang in the air like a blade, then gives a casual shrug.

“And trust me, I’d kill every single person you care about. Level that redneck town you call home. Blame it on terrorists. Wrap it up in a press release and move on.”

A pause.

“But that one out there?” He jerks his chin toward the door, a flicker of something softer in his voice. “She’d never forgive me. She’s got such a good heart. Such a good girl.”

With a swift motion, he grabs a chair and swings it around, straddling it as he faces the four men cowering before him.

“You see,” he continues, voice dropping lower, “you grew up thinking I was your hero.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I hate to be cocky, but let’s be real—you probably had a poster of me on your wall. Maybe even an action figure or two. Didn’t you, Eric?”

Eric swallows hard and gives a trembling nod.

Then the amusement drains from Homelander’s face.

“The thing is,” his voice now cold, flat, “I was never a hero. Not really. I was made to be one, sure. But the truth?” His fingers drum against the back of the chair. “I’m a fucking monster.”

“I’ve always hurt things,” he admits. “Hurt people. Everything I’ve ever done has been for my own personal gain, because, well—” He spread his arms wide, as if presenting himself. “I’ve never had anyone. I was made in a fucking lab. What do they call it—a test tube baby, right? I mean, fuck, I killed my birth mother the second I was born. I’m an animal, some might say.”

He leans in closer, his smile haunting.

“But ever since I met her… she’s turned me into someone I don’t even recognize. Someone almost… human?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.

“And let’s just say, boys—” his voice drops, low and dangerous, jaw tightening like he’s holding something back, “—the second I found out she’d been touched by someone other than me?”

He pauses.

“I knew I had to kill them.”

He shrugs, mockingly casual. “Yeah, yeah, call me selfish. I don’t like to share.”

His eyes darken.

“But apparently you four do. And you like the kind of girl who can’t even lift her head, too drunk to open her eyes. Dead weight.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop.

“So when I found out the touch wasn’t welcomed?” His voice barely above a whisper now. “That it was forced—by you four?”

He exhales slowly, as if trying to tether the violence clawing its way up his spine.

Then he chuckles.

Quiet. Cold.

And completely devoid of mercy.

“That,” he says, his grin widening, his fingers flexing, “really made my fucking blood boil, guys.”

He stands, the chair screeching against the floor as he pushes it aside.

“She’s made me softer, yeah, sure. But she’s also made me realize something.” He glances toward the door—the one that leads to you—then back at the men, his expression unreadable.

“I need to keep the monster alive so I can fight for her.”

And then, without another word, he moves. And the screaming begins.

Faster than any of them can react, his hand shoots forward, gripping the first boy’s skull. A sickening crack echoes as he crushes it like a grape, blood spraying across the room. The others scream, looking for an escape, but there isn’t one.

Homelander laughs—an exhale of pure delight.

Another one collapses, desperate to break free. Before the thought of escape can even finish forming, Homelander’s eyes ignite. A searing beam of red light cuts clean through him, splitting his torso in one swift, merciless stroke. He collapses to the ground in two smoking halves.

Homelander rolls his shoulders, exhaling through his nose, savoring the moment.

“I could stretch this out, you know. Really take my time.”

He locks eyes with Jimmy, grin fading into something darker. “You, especially.”

Jimmy lets out a strangled sob. His face streaked with tears, sweat, and the blood of his old pals.

“But,” Homelander sighs, cracking his neck, “she’s waiting for me.”

The last thing they see is the red glow of his eyes.

And just like that—it was all over.

Homelander surveys the carnage, his heart still fluttering in his chest. The scent of blood, burnt flesh, the lingering traces of fear—God, it feels so fucking good. But the moment he turns toward the rooftop door, the moment his mind shifts back to you, the rage settles.

You’re out there. Waiting for him.

You told him nothing he did would change the way you feel—said it like it was fact, like loving someone like him wasn’t impossible.

But now, he’s standing there… hesitating. Him. The strongest man in the world, afraid to open a fucking door.

Because what if you were wrong? What if he already ruined it?

What if you look at him—really look at him—and finally see what he is?

Homelander opens the door slowly, the metal groaning on its hinges as he steps out into the night.

He walks toward you, each step deliberate, tense—like he’s bracing for something. Rejection, maybe. Disgust.

You sit at the edge of the rooftop, back to him, knees pulled in, the breeze tugging at your hair like it’s trying to comfort you in his place.

Homelander walks closer, blood still drying on his suit, heart pounding harder than it has in years.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t know if he even can.

You haven’t turned around, but you haven’t walked away either.

And that alone keeps him moving forward.

Homelander expects you to be terrified.

Expects you to flinch when he gets close.

Expects you to shrink back, to turn away, to look at him the way everyone else did just moments ago—like he’s something monstrous. Something demonic. Covered in blood. Dripping in violence.

A god, maybe. But not a man. Not someone worthy of love. And yet… you don’t move. You stay exactly where you are. You even step closer.

And then, softly, you reach up, pressing a hand to his bloodstained cheek. Your fingers brush over his skin, gentle, reverent, unshaken. You lean in, lips inches from his.

“You were right,” you whisper, breath warm against his mouth.

“I do love you.”

Homelander’s entire body shudders, and then he was on you. Mouth crashing against yours, hands grabbing, pulling, claiming.

You gasp against his lips as he lifts you, pinning you against the nearest surface. His fingers dig into your hips like he’ll never let go. Hands tearing at fabric, needing to feel skin. He needs to drown in the heat of you.

Without hesitation or foreplay, he strips off your pants and positions himself. With a single thrust, he slides into you, your readiness for him making it easy. A moan of ecstasy escapes your lips—unbothered by the blood, the bodies, or the chance of unseen eyes below.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

You can only moan in response. Your nails scrape down his chest, dragging against the blood-streaked fabric of his suit. The sensation makes him shudder—his body thrumming with adrenaline, lust. A feeling far darker and deeper than anything he’s experienced before.

“I’ll never let you leave,” he murmurs against your jaw, his voice possessive. “You know that, don’t you?”

You nod, gasping as he trails kisses down your neck. His fingers curl under the hem of your top, sliding it up and over your head.

He groans, his eyes devouring you. Taking in the way the cold air makes you shiver, the way your body responds to him like clockwork.

His bloodstained hands trace your sides, smearing red across your skin. Almost like he’s marking you in a way that is so much more than words.

You know you should be horrified. Know you should be disgusted.

But you aren’t. Not in the slightest.

You let out a small, shaky moan as his hands wander.

“So fucking beautiful, even like this. Especially like this.”

His hands are everywhere—gripping your thighs, sliding up your back. He’s insatiable, and you can feel it.

A man who’s been given everything in the world but never anything his—until you.

His fingers dig in, strong enough to bruise, but you don’t care. You want it. You welcome it. You want him to leave his mark, to brand you as his. The same way you just branded him as yours.

His voice is low, wrecked against your ear.

“Say it again.”

You swallow, body trembling against him, but your voice doesn’t waver. Not in the slightest. You’ve never been so sure.

“I love you.”

He pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes. His own eyes blown wide—not just for your body, but for the words. For the feeling. For the proof that this is real.

His fingers brush your cheek, his touch gentle beneath all the carnage.

“Say it again, baby.”

You cup his face, smearing blood across his cheek as you whisper—

“I love you.”

He holds you close, his breath warm against your ear. He continues to move slowly, as if trying to rewrite the past with every touch.

“I should have been there,” he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. His hands trace over you, mapping every place you’ve ever felt pain.

“I should have been there to protect you. Should have been there to take care of you.”

His words break between kisses—soft, lingering presses of his lips against your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. His hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile, something precious.

“I’ll spend forever making it up to you. I promise.”

And in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, the weight of his love pressing into you—it feels like the past can’t hurt you anymore.

“I’m going to cum, baby—”

He lets go, finishing inside of you. Feeling him throb against your walls is enough to make you come undone just the same. Right in the middle of the blood, the bodies, the aftermath of your vengeance. And it’s perfect. He’s perfect. Nothing in the world has ever felt so earned.

He turns back to you, studying you carefully, gauging your reaction once more. This is the moment. The moment you should run. The moment you should scream. The moment you should look at him differently. But you don’t.

And you never will.

—

The Morning After

You wake up feeling lighter, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You lay wrapped in the arms of the one who shielded you, avenged you, claimed you. It’s impossible to not feel at peace.

Homelander’s arm drapes over your waist, his body curled around yours. His grip on you looser now, but even in sleep, he refuses to let you go.

You scroll absently, your eyes stopping at the breaking news banner on the bottom of the screen.

FOUR MEN KILLED IN SUSPECTED CARTEL TRADE GONE WRONG—NEW REPORTS SUGGEST TIES TO CHILD TRAFFICKING RING.

You stare at the headline for a long moment before pressing play. A primly dressed news anchor fills the screen, her expression serious as she recites the official story.

Newly leaked documents, obtained by an anonymous cyber group, suggest that the four men killed in last night’s violent warehouse massacre had extensive financial and logistical ties to a multi-state child trafficking operation. While authorities have yet to confirm these claims, the evidence casts a dark shadow over the deceased—Jimmy Connors, Liam Connors, Eric Blevins, and Trevor Marks—all of whom were reportedly killed in what sources are calling an “underworld trade gone wrong.”

Further investigation has revealed that these four men were previously implicated in a sexual assault case years ago. Despite the allegations, the case was dismissed by the court, allowing them to walk free. Judge Ward, who presided over the case, has declined to comment.

Authorities have yet to release official statements regarding the full extent of these allegations, but public outcry has already begun, with many questioning how these men avoided prosecution in the past. Investigators are now working to verify the authenticity of the leaked documents and determine the true scope of their involvement in criminal activity.

Your stomach twists, your fingers gripping the phone tighter.

Homelander stirs behind you, letting out a slow hum. His grip around your waist tightens slightly as he nuzzles into your shoulder.

“Morning, baby.”

You don’t answer. Your mind is still turning over the implications. He shifts, lifting himself slightly so he can peek over your shoulder.

“Ah. There it is. Right on time.”

You turn, your brow furrowing as you search his face. “How did you do this?”

Homelander chuckles, stretching lazily. Completely unbothered.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I just let people disappear?” He grins, pleased with himself. “No, no. I make sure their names go down in fucking flames.”

He rolls onto his back, folding his hands behind his head. His voice smug, satisfied.

“Had someone dig up every dirty little secret they ever had. Fabricated a few more for good measure, of course. Then made sure the right people got their hands on it. Now? They’re child traffickers. That’s what history will remember them as. That’s what their families will have to live with. That’s all they are now.”

Homelander leans against the headboard, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns on your skin. You continue to stare at the news clip still playing on your phone. The words blur together. The weight of them pressing heavy against your ribs.

FOUR MEN KILLED IN SUSPECTED CARTEL TRADE GONE WRONG—NEW REPORTS SUGGEST TIES TO CHILD TRAFFICKING RING.

The world knows. And soon, they’ll connect the dots.

“What am I going to do when they find out I was their victim?”

Homelander hums, tilting his head.

Then, softly—

“That depends.”

He tilts your chin up, his grip gentle but firm. Leaving you with no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Do you want them to know?”

Your stomach ties in knots. You hadn’t let yourself think about this part—not fully, at least. The moment your name was attached to this, the world would see you as a victim again.

No matter how strong you’ve become. No matter what powers you held. No matter what you signed off on to take control. The whispers, the pity, the headlines. It’ll all come crashing back.

“I can handle it. I can make it go away.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

“I don’t want to hide,” you admit, your voice steady now, stronger. “But I don’t want them to own me again, either.”

“Oh, my love,” he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your lips.

“No one owns you but me.”

The words send a sharp, hot pulse through you—something between fear and need. Then, his voice softens. Lower now, more intimate.

“If you want to tell them, tell them. Let them cry over you. Let them worship you.” His lips quirk. “Let them see how strong you are now.”

A pause.

“But if you aren’t ready? I’ll make sure no one ever breathes your name in connection to this, until you are.”

His promise hangs in the air, thick and unchallenged. You hesitate, the next words almost sticking in your throat.

“And you wouldn’t be… embarrassed? That your girl…friend—” you swallow, forcing the word out, “—was raped?”

You push forward, your chest tight. “And what about me being in The Seven? If this comes out, if they start questioning my past—” your breath stutters, “—you wouldn’t feel ashamed? As a captain?”

For a moment, he just looks at you. His piercing blue gaze unreadable, his lips pressing into a thin line like he’s trying to figure something out.

“First of all, why are you so hesitant to say ‘girlfriend’?”

You blink, caught off guard.

“Out of everything you just said, that’s the thing tripping you up?”

“I—”

“Because, let’s be clear—you’re mine. That’s not even a question.”

You look up at him innocently, eyes wide, lips barely parted. A sharp breath escapes him, his fingers twitching like he’s holding himself back again. A feeling he’s getting used to.

“And as for the rest of that bullshit?” he continues, his voice dipping into something more incredulous.

“You think I’d be embarrassed of you? You think I’d be ashamed?” His eyes burn into you, unblinking, unrelenting.

“Of you?”

The very thought offends him. It’s so utterly ridiculous, he can’t even comprehend where it’s coming from.

A slow exhale.

“Do you realize how proud I am to have you?”

Your heart flutters. His tone is different now. Steady. Like he wasn’t just saying it, like he was almost preaching it.

“You survived them. You took back your power. You’re not weak, darling. You’re unstoppable.”

He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And you think I’d let anyone—anyone—talk about you like you’re some kind of… shameful secret?”

His grip tightens on you slightly.

“Let the whole fucking world find out. Let them see what you survived, let them worship you for it. Or let them say one bad word about you—so I have an excuse to fucking tear them apart.”

You believe him. You finally understand, you’re not a victim. You never were. And that’s a good feeling.

“I told you, baby, no one will ever know what really happened to them. They don’t get to be victims. They don’t get to be mourned. They get to be exactly what the world sees them as now, what they’ve always been—monsters.”

You should feel uneasy. Should feel some kind of hesitation at how easily he rewrote their legacy. But instead? All you feel is relief.

Their names wouldn’t be spoken with sympathy.

No one would miss them.

They’re gone.

Erased.

And for the first time in years—

You feel free.

You let your head drop against his shoulder, closing your eyes as his fingers slide through your hair.

“What made you tell me you loved me?”

Your voice comes out softer than you expected, almost hesitant. For a moment, he just looks at you, almost as if he’s deciding on how much to share. He sighs, almost exasperated, as if the answer is so obvious he doesn’t know why you’re even asking.

“Because it’s true. But to be honest? I was waiting for it to go away. I kept telling myself it was nothing. That you were just—a game. A passing interest.”

He sees your reaction, his fingers slipping under your chin as he tilts your face up.

“But you aren’t a passing interest,” Homelander murmurs, voice softer now, his thumb brushing gently along your jaw. “You’re my only interest.”

He swallows, eyes locked on yours. “From the first day I met you, you’ve been the only thing I can fucking think about.”

His gaze drops for a moment, the words catching in his throat. “And now, when I look back—at all the people I’ve killed, all the women I’ve slept with, all the power I’ve hoarded…”

He exhales, sharp and bitter.

“None of it matters anymore.”

His lips twitch into something close to a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes—there’s something hollow about it, almost self-deprecating. Like he’s suddenly disgusted by the weight of his own past.

His forehead drops to yours, his restraint unraveling.

“It was never enough. Because it wasn’t you.”

His lips barely brush yours, a whisper away.

“You are more than enough.”

His expression almost pained—

“And you’re the only fucking thing that ever will be.”

And in this moment, you decide—

This isn’t just obsession, possession. This is love. Twisted, sure. Consuming, maybe. But you’re too far gone to turn back now.

“So, yeah, I said it. Because if I didn’t say it, I was going to lose my fucking mind.”

A sharp inhale.

“And because… I wanted to hear you say it back.”

Homelander’s head tilts, that smug, teasing smirk playing on his lips. But you know there is something else behind it—something deeper, something searching.

“Now, what made you say it? Was it just because I did?”

“No.” Your voice soft, steady. “I didn’t say it just because you did.”

Your finger trace along his lips, your eyes focused on his.

“I said it, because I meant it. Because the truth is? I was already yours. I always have been.”

His lips part, like he wants to speak, wants to tell you something—

But he doesn’t. He kisses you instead. Not rough, not desperate—like he was sealing a promise.

You pull away from the kiss to slip out of bed, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as you pad toward the kitchen.

“By the way,” you call over your shoulder, glancing back at him as you reach for the coffee maker. “I hesitate on ‘girlfriend’ because last time I checked, you haven’t asked me to be.”

Homelander lets out a sharp, amused laugh, shaking his head as he leans back against the pillows. “What, are we teenagers?”

You smirk, pouring water into the machine.

“Well… once upon a time, you were one. About 25 years ago.”

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then—

A sharp gasp.

“Oh, you little—”

One second, you’re standing peacefully by the coffee maker—the next, you’re airborne. A playful yelp tears from your lips as he scoops you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

“Homelander! Put me down!” you shriek, laughing as you kick your feet.

“Nah, baby, you wanted to be cute—now you suffer.”

Before you can even protest, he cages you against the counter, pinning you between his arms.

“What was that? Something about me being… old?”

You bite your lip, fighting a smile.

“I mean… did I lie?”

“Oh, that’s it.”

His hands are on you, fingers digging into your sides as he mercilessly tickles you. You shriek, gasping for breath, shoving at his chest even though he’s immovable.

“Say it,” he taunts, his smirk widening as you squirm helplessly.

“Say what?!” you gasp between fits of laughter.

“Say you’re my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god—”

“Say it.”

You can barely breathe, your giggles turning breathless. Your face hot as you try to wiggle free.

“Okay, okay!” you gasp, giggling uncontrollably. “I’m your girlfriend! Happy now?!”

Homelander smirks, his hands settling firmly on your waist.

“See? Was that so hard?”

You huff, still trying to catch your breath. “God, you are such a child.” You roll your eyes, smacking his chest lightly. He leans in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips.

Then suddenly—

A buzzing noise fills the room.

Your phone vibrates against the kitchen counter, a notification flashing across the screen.

You glance down, your brows pulling together as you read the message.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: we need to talk. it’s about them.

Your stomach drops. Homelander notices immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Something wrong?”

You have a sinking feeling—

This isn’t over.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡

tags: @lilyalone @raginginkedslut @helreyy

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 21

Wow! It always amazes me when story gets past 20 chapters. It makes it ending even harder. But ending it is. I completed the final chapter yesterday. It will have 24 chapters and then it one of the other fics I'm currently working will replace it.

Chrissy makes good on her promise to blow each of the kids' minds.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

~

By invite only is what Chrissy said. Holy shit. There were actual famous people here and Steve was freaking out.

Steve, Robin, and his kids were picked up in a shiny, black limo and taken to Wayne’s ranch. There the amphitheater was set up for Corroded Coffin to play. As evidenced by the black and gold drum kit with their logo slapped on the bass drum.

There were actors and other musicians there. Some pretty big names too. So that got Dustin and Mike sorted. They were freaking out and geeking out about each new person they spotted.

Then Max was tugging on Steve’s arm. “Steve. Steve I can’t believe it. He’s here.”

Steve looked over to see a man, maybe a little bit older than he was standing there talking to Jeff’s dad. He didn’t look like much, but the way Max was vibrating next to him, he knew the guy was famous in a way only see would recognize.

“That’s Steve Caballero,” she sighed wistfully. “When I was out in Cali, he was pioneering the skateboard scene. He’s so awesome.”

And then it hit him. What Chrissy met when she said that she could do something special for each of the kids with one event. And this was Max’s.

“Come on,” Steve said brightly, tugging on her arm. “We’re going to go say hello.”

Max stared at him in shock and tried to tell him she wasn’t going to do that, when Steve yanked on her arm and lead him over to Mr. Lawrence and Steve Caballero.

“Hey, you’re Steve right?” he said with his most charming smile. When the guy nodded, he continued, “My friend here is a huge fan. This Max Mayfield.”

Steve looked her up and down. “Long or standard?”

“Standard,” Max said immediately. “I’ve been working on my kickflip and I’ve almost got it down.”

Steve C. raised an eyebrow. “Where do you go to skate around here?”

Max chatted excitedly with him. “Doing street is the best I can hope for in Hicksville, but there is a quarry nearby where I go to practice my bigger stuff.”

“You should really show me while I’m in town...” Steve C. said as Steve wandered off.

Will was talking to a man and woman and so Steve started walking over that direction.

Will spotted him and pulled him over. “This is Stephen Cosgrove and Robin James. They do the Serendipity books.”

Steve turned his head to the side as he thought about it for a moment. “Is that the one with big pink and green sea dragon or whatever?”

Stephen smiled. “Sea dragon is a much nicer term than sea monster, but yes. That’s us.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “I’ve been meeting a lot of Steves today. First Steve Caballero who skateboards and now you.”

Robin and Stephen shared a glance.

“I’m a Steve too.”

They both “ooh’ed” and nodded.

“This young man was telling us that he wanted to illustrate children’s books,” Robin J. said with a smile.

Steve ruffled Will’s hair. “He’s really good, he was even teaching me a thing or two over the summer.”

“There’s children’s illustration exhibit in Indy while we’re here,” Stephen said brightly. “I think he’d be very interested in seeing it.”

Will looked up at Steve, hopeful.

Steve ruffled Will’s hair again. “We’ll have to ask your mom, but yeah that sounds great. If I can get the information from you.”

And both Stephen and Robin J. hurried to do just that with Robin J. handing Will her personal business card. “When you get a little older, give me a call,” she said with a wink.

Will waved dorkily at them and then let Steve lead him away. “This was so cool, Steve. Thanks for inviting me. I’m more of a ‘The Clash’ fan, but meeting my heroes is so mind blowing and to go to see the exhibit would be the icing on the cake.”

Steve smiled, putting his arm around the kid. “We’ll have to see. Your mom is still mad at me for the whole Eddie is a sugar daddy fiasco.”

“Which is bullshit,” Will huffed. “Even Jonathan thinks Eddie is sweet and this was before you got him that camera. As he pointed out Eddie was out of town and a lot of the gifts were cute and not over the top expensive.”

“I wish Jonathan had been successful,” Steve said dryly, “and the whole mess with Scoops would have been avoided.”

“Yeah,” Will said dourly. “Hop is still mad at her for the whole assault thing. Eddie was taking care of you and yes, she might have not have known who it was at the time, but the fact that you could come and go as you pleased, you were able to spend the money on whatever you wanted, and were really happy... like she should have let it go.”

They went to go find Mike and Dustin. It wasn’t long to find them, they were chatting away with Brian and Gareth.

Brian threw his arms out and cried. “Stevie! The man of the hour! Eddie was excited when you agreed to come out to this.”

Steve smiled at the bassist. “Like I could ever turn down a chance to see you guys play live. I did like the music when I heard it the first time.”

“Eddie told us about your musical indoctrination,” Gareth said with a huff of laughter. “You actually went out and bought heavy metal albums of your own accord, so I’ll give you that. Because I always assumed you liked us live because you liked the outfit Eddie wore.”

Steve quickly covered an ear each of Dustin and Mike and yanked them to his side. “There are children present!” he scandalized with a wry smile.

Brian and Gareth cackled as Dustin and Mike struggled to be released.

“Let me go!” Dustin huffed, pushing at Steve’s side. “I’m not a child!”

Steve let them both go laughing. “Yeah, than tell me what Gareth was referring to and maybe I’ll believe you, dweeb.”

Dustin shrugged. “Probably the same reason my likes Elvis. Young Elvis. The long legs and hips.”

Gareth and Steve shared a wide-eyed glance.

Gareth nodded appreciatively. “I can see why Robin calls you the genius child. Right in one, kiddo. How about you, Mike? You in it for the music or Eddie in tight pants?”

Mike stuttered and sputtered as he turned bright red.

“The tight pants for sure,” Brian teased, elbowing Gareth who was giggling.

“But I like girls!” Mike finally managed to spit out, his eyes wide and his fist clenched.

Dustin raised a confused eyebrow. “My ma is always talking about David Bowie and how he likes both men and women and doesn’t matter who his partner is, he’s not gay if he’s with a man or straight if he’s with a woman, he’ll always be bisexual.”

“I think I want to meet your mom, kid,” Gareth said with a low whistle. “I’d like to shake her hand. Sounds like the best mom, ever.”

Dustin blushed as he flashed a big grin.

“You can be both?” Mike whispered, suddenly shy. He ducked his head and picked at his nails.

Brian put an arm around his shoulders. “Let me introduce you to Jeff, he’s bisexual too. He’ll be able to answer all your questions.” Then he quietly led him away from the group.

“Congrats on blowing that kid’s mind,” Steve said with a huff of laughter. Gareth just grinned back.

Dustin scoffed. “I’ve known Mike liked boys since the fourth grade.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Well then. Still he’s about to be opened up to a world of possibilities he’s never even considered before.”

“If he’s not as big an ass he likes to pretend he is,” Dustin said rolling his eyes, “then hopefully he’ll have asked Will out by the end of the concert.”

Steve burst out laughing. “I love you optimism, bud. But I think it’s going to take Mike a little bit longer than that.” He held up his finger and thumb and pushed them really closed together.

Dustin just shrugged and then started yapping poor Gareth’s ear off on whether or not the EP Kas’s Revenge counted as their first album or not, so Steve wisely made his escape. It was that he didn’t care about that sort of thing, but it looked like it was about to get into a lot technical stuff that would go over his head.

Lucas peeled away from Brian, Mike, and Jeff and spotted Steve. “Hey, man! Thanks for this! This is cool, too!”

Steve smiled. “You’re welcome. It might be a little unfair you getting two events like this, but I with all the stars and shit here, everyone is getting their own double dose!”

“Eh,” Lucas said, cocking his head to the side, “I’m not too bothered by that.”

Steve laughed. “You are such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” he said, squeezing Lucas’s shoulder.

“Hanging out with Dustin and Mike,” he said with a shrug, “it tends to rub off on you whether you want to or not.”

“That’s true,” he murmured looking around. “Hey, I thought your sister came, too. I don’t see her.”

Lucas looked around frantically. “Shit. I don’t see here either. I thought she was right there with me talking D&D with Jeff. I didn’t even realize that she had wandered off.”

Steve stopped looking for Erica and started looking for Eddie. He knew this place better than Lucas or him. He spotted him getting a drink at the buffet table and made a beeline for him, with Lucas hot on his heels.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve said a little panicked as he neared the rockstar. “Have you seen Erica? Little black girl, pink dress, hair in corn rows?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie said with a grin. “Come follow me.”

Steve and Lucas shared a glance but did as they were told. Eddie led them around the house to a part of the property that Steve hadn’t seen before. Out here was more like what Steve had expected when he was told Uncle Wayne lived on a ranch. There were sprawling pastures and a beautiful bright red barn, like something out of the movies.

A little distance away Steve could see Erica with Uncle Wayne feeding a carrot to a blue roan, while a spotted brown and white horse tried to steal from it.

“Erica!” Lucas breathed out and he trotted up to her. “You need to tell someone before you wander off...”

Wayne looked down at her with a glare. “I thought you told me you had told Steve where you were.”

Erica turned back slowly to Wayne, wide-eyed. “Oh, maybe it was Eddie I told. Or, um...”

Eddie put his hands on his hips. “I know for a fact you didn’t tell me, the only reason I knew where you were is because I know a horse girl when I see one.”

“Uh-huh,” Wayne said eyeing her warily. “I’ll let it slide this time, Missy, but I catch you lyin’ to me again and I’ll revoke your horse visiting privileges.”

Erica pouted. “I’m sorry, Uncle Wayne. I’ll be sure to tell people where I’m going from now on.”

Wayne nodded curtly and went back to feeding the horses. “I don’t think you’ve met my horses the last time you were here, Steve.”

Steve smiled at him. “No, sir. Wasn’t even brought up.” He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow to emphasis his point.

“Ah,” Wayne said pursing his lips together. “I guess I was a tad remiss in my duties then. These are two of my rascals. Jadis and Fledge.”

Steve snapped his fingers as he thought. “Those are from the Chronicles of Narnia, right?”

“Eddie came by his love for fantasy naturally,” Wayne said with a smile. “But why don’t you boys head back to the party, I’ll watch this one and make sure we get to the concert just fine.”

“With the promise I get to bring her back at later date so we can both see the horses,” Steve said with a grin.

Erica looked up at Steve with unbridled glee. “Oh can we?” she asked Uncle Wayne.

“As long as your parents say you can,” Wayne said with a solemn nod, “than that’s a promise.”

As soon as the three of them got back to the party Robin came dashing up to them all bright-eyed and excited.

“Ellie is talking to the Diane Von Furstenberg,” she said breathlessly. “Can you believe that?”

Steve only knew who that was only because his mother hated her.

Eddie lit up. “I’m glad she was able to make it. She’s Chrissy’s favorite designer. I hope Ellie gets a lot of good tips from her.”

“Can I run away with you?” Robin asked in wide-eyed seriousness. “I’ll continue to PA for you, I don’t care. But you know some of the coolest people.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Turn eighteen and we’ll talk then.”

Robin jumped up and down clapping. “You coming with me.” She grabbed his arm and forced him to introduce her to some of the other greats that were there.

Chrissy came bounding up to him all smiles. “So did I win back the favor of the fair prince?”

Steve grinned. “Hell yeah you did! All of them have had their minds blown and then are going to be treated to one of the best live shows I’ve ever seen. And when I say that, that’s not hyperbole, me and my now ex-boyfriend went to a lot of concerts growing up. There is no doubt Corroded Coffin blows them out of the water.”

She grinned up at him. “Hell yeah they do.”

~

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @wheneverfeasible @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @themoonagainstmers @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt @just-a-tiny-void

8- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

9- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts @steddieislife

10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

February 01 - Honey | word count: 672 | @black-brothers-microfic

They are sitting in the common room, a bottle of firewhiskey making it’s rounds. Regulus had already regretted agreeing to come when he first entered the Room of Requirement to find his brother and his friends already gathered around the fireplace. But he had already been spotted, and he could hardly deny his boyfriend as he made grabby hands to pull Regulus onto his lap. That’s where he sits now, in one of the two chairs while his brother and Remus occupy the other, leaving Barty, Evan, Dorcas, Marlene, and Peter on spare cushions and pillows on the ground.

He rests his head back against James’ shoulder, letting himself get lost in the feeling of James’ fingers in his hair, gently soothing the building ache. He’s been undeniably lucky with James, who somehow always manages to sense what Regulus needs, and gives it to him without question.

“What’s the worse injury you’ve had?” Marlene asks, and Regulus instantly tenses up. Out of all the questions that could have come from her mouth, it is the one that a majority of the people in this room would find uncomfortable. “I sprained my collarbone while playing rugby in primary school.”

“I fell from a tre—wait, no. My worst was when that bludger knocked me from my broom and I broke like ten bones.” James says, almost boasting as though the memory of that day doesn’t put an ache in Regulus’ bones. He had been worried sick, afraid the other boy might not wake up, or if he did, that the damage would be too severe to ever play Quidditch again.

“Mrs. Norris caught me while in animagus form last year.” Peter shudders. “I still have the scars from her teeth.”

“I think we all know what mine is.” Remus says, voice heavy. Sirius shifts in his seat, curling around Remus the best he can, as though that will shield him from the monster living in his own body. He tucks his face into Remus’ neck, muttering something there. Cheeks burning as he unwillingly intrudes in a private moment, Regulus turns to James.

“Potion explosion because somebody wasn’t paying attention.”

“You can hardly blame me when you are far more interesting than any potion we could have been brewing.”

“Uh, huh.”

“My blood oath with Evan.” Barty says, drawing everybody’s attention to him. He merely grins, wiggling his eyebrows at Evan.

“Your what?” How could he have missed two of the most important people in his live taking a blood oath? His curiosity lasts for as long as it takes for the devilish grin to materialize on Barty’s face. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“What about you, Sirius?”

“I think… oh! The time I was attacked by a nest of hornets.”

“I’m sorry, you were what?”

“I haven’t told you guys this one? Oh, its great!”

“It’s not great, Sirius. It was stupid and unnecessarily risky.”

“Well now I have to know.” James insists.

“Well, little Reggie here wanted honey on his toast, but we didn’t have any.”

“And instead of asking Kreacher like anybody else would have, the idiot went and—”

Sirius reaches over and clamps his hand over Regulus’ mouth. “Don’t spoil the story. Stop licking me, Reg. Anyway, I was, I don’t know, nine? ten? either way, there was this bee’s nest in the garden. Nobody ever told me there were different kinds of bees, let alone different kinds of nests. I thought they were all the same thing. Honey came from bees, and bees lived in that nest. So, I climbed on a nearby bench and pulled it down.”

“Sirius.” James gasps through laughter. “Why?”

“I thought I was being a good brother! I had no idea I was going to be attacked.”

Regulus pries Sirius’ hand from his mouth, “The idiot was bedridden for a week.”

“It was worth it.”

“How? What part of that entire incident was ‘worth it’?”

“We got to spend that whole week together, and mother couldn’t do anything about it.”

[trashywormeateroffics]

ours (bucky barnes x female reader)

the gif is not mine!

summary: a comment makes bucky question your relationship and he begins avoiding you. tired of his behavior you confront him.

a/n: once again i am asking u to send me requests of bucky, natasha or loki + a taylor swift song so i can write a one shot about it!!!! hope u enjoy this anon<3

masterlist

\\\\

you know exactly when it started, and it makes you furious. everything was fine, it was more than fine, it was perfect. until people thought they had the right to meddle in things that weren’t their concern, like who you should and shouldn’t love. and, for the most part, you could handle it, but then… that damned comment. a stupid twitter comment made by an account without a profile picture set him off. by him, you mean bucky barnes, your boyfriend. and by the damned comment, you mean the one that said that they hoped he wouldn’t turn into the winter soldier and kill you by accident. since then he’s been avoiding you and every time you try to talk to him, he runs away. and you’re sick of it. that’s why you find yourself angrily stomping through your way to his room in the compound.

“bucky.” you call out to him as you knock on the door. you can hear some shuffling of things on the other side so you know he’s there. but he’s playing dumb. “bucky.” you call again. nothing. you sigh, annoyed. “james buchanan barnes if you do not open this door right this second-“ the door opening cuts you off and you fall silent. there, in all his sleepy glory, is your beautiful super soldier of a boyfriend.

“i was sleeping.” he tells you in a low grumble.

“too bad. we need to talk.”

“about?”

“oh you know,” you shrug nonchalantly, “about the fact that you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“i haven’t-“ you don’t listen to his excuse and let yourself in. he shuts the door but doesn’t turn around to look at you.

“james. look at me.” you say, a bit more harsher than you intended. “bucky.” you try again, this time more softly, but it still comes out a bit impatient and you know he can hear it.

bucky slowly turns around and glances at you for a quick moment before directing his gaze to the floor and putting his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

for a bit you stay in silence and just look at him while he avoids your stare. you know it’s making him nervous but you don’t care, not right now, not when you’re this angry and frustrated and hurt.

he clears his throat and glances at you for a second to utter his next few words.

“i haven’t been avoiding you.” and his gaze is back on the carpeted floor.

“the fact that you can’t look at me kind of proves that’s bullshit.”

“it’s not-“

“it is.” you cut him off. “you have been avoiding me and i know why.” that’s when he looks at you. you purse your lips. “that comment-“

“what comment?” he asks defensively.

“you know which one, i don’t want to say it.”

“why?” he asks bitterly. “scared it’s true?”

you frown.

“what?” you say, eyes wide. “are you dumb?”

“we both know it y/n, no need to pretend.”

“oh, so you really are dumb!” you laugh without a trace of joy. he frowns, almost offended.

“i’m not- i’m being realistic.”

“realistic? that’s realistic? reading one stupid comment and then avoiding me?” you tell him, your voice raising a bit with every word spoken.

“yes! it’s for your own good.”

“dumb!” you repeat again, like a child throwing a tantrum. “you are what’s good for me!”

his eyes soften at that but he remains unconvinced.

“i’m not.”

“yes you are!”

“it’s best if you leave.” at that your heart drops to your stomach. he really thinks he will hurt me, you think.

“bucky…” you begin.

“y/n, please. leave.”

“bucky.”

“y/n.”

“i won’t leave.”

“leave.” he grits through his teeth.

“no! i love you!” you shout at him as tears begin falling down your face.

“you can’t!” he shouts back.

“why not?!”

“i’m a murderer, a monster! i’m going to end up hurting you!”

“you won’t-“ you plead but he cuts you off.

“you can’t act like that’s not what everyone thinks when they see us together.” he runs his metal hand through his hair in frustration and then raises it to his face to look at it with sorrowful eyes. “you can’t. you’re smarter than this.”

you frown. you’re smarter than this. smarter than loving him as much as you do? smarter than giving this man the love he deserves after a life full of so much pain? smarter than fighting for the one thing that feels right in your life?

you bite the inside of your cheek and look at him. his gaze is back on the floor, but this time you really need him to look at you. so you walk the few steps that separate you both and grab his face with your hands, turning his head your way. still, he doesn’t look at you.

you can see his blue eyes even though they’re not directed at you and they are so sad, so defeated. but they hold so much love there, you know it. he has confessed many times that he burns for you in the same way you do for him. that is why he’s so scared. but what he doesn’t know is that you are too. the idea of ever doing something that could hurt him terrifies you. maybe you’re not scared to hurt him in the same way he’s scared to hurt you, but you understand what he’s feeling, even if you can’t relate to his exact experience.

“bucky…” you begin. his quivering lips purse in an attempt to not break. “baby. please look at me.” you plead. slowly, he does. “listen to me. i’ve told you a million times, but until you believe it i will have to keep saying it. what happened all those years, what your body did, it wasn’t you, it was them.” he shakes his head but you hold him steady, looking at you. “listen to me.” you repeat. “no one has ever taken care of me the way you do. no one,” you tell him firmly as a few tears fall from your eyes, “has ever been kinder to me than you. no one has ever loved me more than you. and i have never loved anyone, anyone, the way i love you.” his eyes shine with unshed tears and you usher him to let them fall with a soft smile. he does. “you are not a murderer, and you are not a monster. you are a fighter, you’re the bravest and kindest person i’ve ever met and most importantly… you are my love.” you chuckle through both of your tears. “they will always have something to say, but this? this is ours james, we can’t let anyone tell us what we are. the only people who know that is you and me. and you know it, right?” he blinks and more tears fall down his cheeks. you wipe them away with your thumbs and began peppering kisses all over his face. “you know it, right?” you ask again. he nods with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his skin. “say it. please.”

“i know.” he tells you. “i know, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay baby.”

“no, it’s not. i- i shouldn’t have avoided you, i just- i got all in my head and you know how it is-“

“i do.” you give him a small smile and he returns it before frowning.

“i didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“me neither.” you tell him and he laughs.

“i forgive you, doll.”

“oh? so we’re back on doll territory? no more y/n?”

he narrows his eyes playfully.

“no more y/n, doll-face.”

you purse your lips to stop yourself from grinning but fail miserably. but then you get serious.

“bucky, you got it right? that you won’t hurt me and that- that you shouldn’t listen to what people say, that my love for you is so much bigger than all the hate they may throw at us.”

he slowly smiles and looks into your eyes with so much adoration it makes your stomach twist itself up in knots.

“i got it doll. i don’t know if i’ll ever not be scared to hurt you, but i’ll tell you if i do feel like that. i won’t push you away.”

“please don’t.”

“i won’t.” he grins and grabs your waist to pull you closer to him. as his lips ghost over yours, he says: “it’s you and me against the world.”

[ma1dita]

Hiii. Can I get one ticket for "and they were brommates". Starring Remus Lupin with a popcorn 🍿 and a chocolate 🍫 please?

hungry like the wolf

[STARRING: REMUS LUPIN x reader ; “Just forget you saw this happen.” “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.”  wc: 1.5k warnings: none. remus is a weirdo just as god intended. no plot. he’s also a panty sniffer. kind of a crackfic i wont lie… muggle!reader; title like the duran duran song]

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You’re convinced your new roommate hates you. 

Honestly, it was just your luck that your apartment resident portal matched you with a rando that won’t tell you any details about his home life, the fancy boarding school he went to, or anything he does for work (he’s in law enforcement, he says—though you’ve thrown his worn laundry in the dryer for him before with no evidence of a uniform and he’s always been pretty frugal… maybe he’s a clerk?).

Totally not suspicious at all.

But rent is fucking expensive these days for you to not have a roommate, and he seems nice enough, for now. Remus plays Bowie on his record player in the evenings at respectable volumes, washes the dishes since you hate doing them and always leaves chocolate for you with little notes if he’s going out to see his mother who gets sick a lot.

Plus, he’s pretty handy around the apartment—so much so that a single woman like you can’t complain—he reaches for things on high shelves, carries all your groceries in from the car, and minds his business for the most part until his friends come over—which makes the million dollar question: why doesn’t he live with them? The boys come over and knock down your door, then Sirius and James always drag you out for a pint  instead of leaving you to work on your thesis while the other rat-faced one eats all your snacks and… Remus just sits there with his nose scrunched up not saying anything, always on edge. He just sits uncomfortably at the opposite end of the room all bunched up like he’s ready to run at any given moment.

Maybe he tolerates you at best, a few nods and soft ‘Hello’s are all you get throughout the week. Or maybe you have bad breath? Is that why in the half year you two have lived together you haven’t been together for more than 10 minutes?

What’s worse is that he’s painfully attractive. Like rugged, in a sexy, 2000s male lead in a rom-com sort of way, his thick brows always furrowed and an expression that makes you think that he has something to get off his chest, but he never says more than a handful of words. In short, the only possible reason for your roommate avoiding you is that Remus Lupin hates you with his entire being.

It has to be.

You’re convinced of the fact on a particular Friday night as you hop around the apartment with one boot on, your belt unbuckled, and hair still sopping wet. It’s a rare occasion for you to go out with your own friends and not hole yourself up at home, but the cabin fever is starting to make you itch. Remus has been watching your figure bob around your shared place, eyes bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball. His scarred hands are gripping his mug tightly as he takes a large sip of tea, terrible posture evident in the way he’s draped over the settee.

“M’going out tonight,” you muse, smiling at him as you walk down the hallway, peeking at your reflection in the bathroom mirror before turning to him. Remus nods politely, “Right. That’s good.” You don’t think you’ve heard him say more than a sentence and so you shrug, leaning against the doorway, “You got plans tonight?”

“Staying in. Feeling a bit under the weather,” he gulps. Remus is tucked under the periwinkle throw blanket you got from TK Maxx for the sofa you both found on Facebook marketplace. He looks cozy, snuggling into the fleece and watching you brush your hair with his tired eyes.

“Aw, Remus. You gonna be alright?”

He sniffs, his face making that pinchy expression again as you come near, “S’all good. You should get going, don’t wanna be late for your…thing.” He doesn’t mean to be rude, but you’re too overwhelming the way you are, your scent permeating through the air even from his spot on the couch and it’s taking all of his willpower to tone down his furry little problem that begs for a taste. He looks away, physically biting his tongue as a reminder.

Now your face scrunches at his reaction, not understanding why he’s so detached from your niceties. Spinning around until your eyes flicker to the mirror and your form, you close the bathroom door gently, before inspecting yourself meticulously. Your outfit is new, and you’ve just sprayed on your favorite perfume earlier… maybe….

You raise an armpit and take a sniff.

Nope. 

What the fuck is this guy’s problem?

After a small pep talk, you swing the door open and step out. Surely, he’ll tell you what’s wrong if you ask him upfront. Sure, it might be ill-timed to get into a conversation that might make or break your living arrangement right before you go out to the club with your friends, but as you’re pacing down the hall you think there is no better time to do it. It would eat at you all night and ruin your fun, after all.

The living room is empty now, blanket folded over and draped on the ottoman and you swivel towards the other end of the hall, “Remus?” you call out meekly. So much for confidence. He’s probably went to bed, or again he just hates you. 

There’s a slight chill when you stick your hand out the window, so you make your way over to the laundry room where you left your leather jacket last, and when you go to flick the light on—-

There stands your lovely roommate, sniffing a black polka-dotted pair of your panties.

“WHATTHEFUCK?” “MERLIN!”

You’re pointing at each other, mouths gaping in shock as he backs towards the washing machine as he chokes on his spit, face as red as a tomato, “I can explain!’

“Oh you better! I….” you blurt, scanning the room for a weapon and swinging the bottle of detergent at his head, “Talk, freak!”

“I thought you LEFT ALREADY!”

The look on your face is more mortified than he thought it would be but how does he explain that every inch of this place smells of you? Your pheromones reek from your pores like a sultry perfume and he can’t get enough, unconsciously walking closer like a cartoon character hypnotized by the smell of pie. Stumbling over a discarded piece of clothing, he staggers back as you get in his face and whack him in the chest, once with your hand and then twice with your jacket you were looking for.

“You—fucking—weirdo!”

Remus flinches, raising his arms against your attack, “Godric, just forget you saw this happen, please—OW!” Eyes fixed in a glare, you stand in front of him with a finger prodding at his chest, “Give that back!”

“They’re clean!”

Your hands wrench the cotton out of his hands and hold them close to your chest, “They’re NOT! Lie to me again and I swear I’ll call the police!” The sandy-haired man throws his head back seemingly in laughter and you purse your lips, realizing that he is the police, in some sorts. Unless that’s a lie too.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Remus grumbles as he takes a deep breath, “Let me explain, I… I can’t help it. You smell too good.”

What the fuck.

From the way your eye is twitching and how your chest is heaving as you clutch your panties, he knows it’s not a good enough response but fuck there’s a lot on the line here, and he doesn’t know where to start, “I…fucking hell, I’m a werewolf, okay?”

“Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” 

Remus blinks slowly, and you laugh at him, jaw still tense but at least you’re laughing at him, “I mean really, you have to come up with better excuses—I kinda had a hunch after our 3rd full moon and you left to go see your mom. Is she even really sick? You’ve giving the woman bad karma.”

He shakes his head, jaw gaping at how nonchalantly a muggle is taking this news. Shouldn’t you be running away in fear by now? Clearing his throat, “Um, yeah. So your pheromones,” he sniffs, “smell really, really good to me. Like a seven layer chocolate cake. I think our cycles are matched up.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

At least he doesn’t hate you, you reason, slowly closing the door to the laundry room behind you with a quirk in your lip, “I thought I smelled bad or something, with the way you look at me.”

“I think my face just looks like this. M’sorry. You’re not scared?”

He’s closer to you now, arms circling your frame like a predator on the prowl, waiting for you to make a move. But you step closer to him, baring your neck and giving him permission to eat you up if he wishes. Licking your lips, you whisper, “James almost blew up my cellphone with his wand last week when I tried to show him a Youtube video. You’re all weird ones, aren’t you?”

“That okay?” 

The silence in the small room feels reverent now, his fingers pressing against your wrists as he holds them at your waist—voice so low it makes you shiver.

“I didn't say it was a bad thing.”

Hopefully he can think of a way to make it up to you. But the way you let him graze his nose up your arm and back you against the door as he takes a big, deep inhale….is a good start.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[penultimatefan02]

A Wildly Unhinged Theory about Logan and Pen

MAJOR SPOILERS AND SPECULATION

A theory that has been needling at me for a while became a bit more evident after rewatching X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and The Avengers.

In My Time at Sandrock, Pathea pays homage to Wolverine by giving his name, James Howlett, and his alias, Logan, to two of the game's characters. Howlett, a famous monster hunter, was Logan’s father. Logan, in turn, grew up to become a renowned monster hunter in his own right.

However, it was Pen's story that incorporated Wolverine’s history and fighting ability. Pen was experimented on by the military, which made him stronger. That created a triangle between the three characters, where each point represents a characteristic of Wolverine. Except, the triangle was broken because Pen did not have a connection to Howlett or Logan, but what if he did? What if Pen is "Weapon X?"

Was Pen’s role in the Duvos mission purely for country, wealth and fame, or was there a personal motive in play as well? What if Howlett’s death was about much more than his stumbling upon Pen’s Duvos mission?

In Sandrock, Pen was 31 years old, and Logan was 28. That put them three years apart, with Howlett marrying Logan’s mom in ’71. Before Howlett married, did he spend time in Duvos or adjacent to it? Could he have had a relationship with Pen’s mother?

If Pen were a major part of Howlett’s backstory, could that connect the last point of the triangle? It would make sense that Pen knew more than he was letting on during the events in Sandrock. What if he knew of Howlett in a different capacity? What if we witnessed the ramifications of Pen knowing that Howlett was his estranged father?

If we did, was the hatred of Logan because Pen was denied a relationship with Howlett? Did Pen blame Howlett, and in turn Logan, for his circumstances and the experimentation he endured at the hands of Duvos? Could we learn something about Howlett that may alter our perceptions of him and thus Pen’s actions toward him? Nevertheless, it was curious that when Pen talked to the Builder, he only ever mentioned his mother in passing.

Now with all in consideration, what if Pen volunteered for the mission in Sandrock for that reason? It would explain a lot as to why his attack against Logan at the Starship Ruins felt so extremely personal and why Pen so eagerly shared with Logan that he killed Howlett. Pen found joy in Logan’s suffering because it was his restitution.

The brother vs. brother theme is popular in Marvel comics. Logan and Victor in Origins may have been an inspiration for Logan in Sandrock, with the exception that he did not know the history of his father or of Pen’s familial existence. In Logan's upcoming journey in Evershine, we may learn more about Howlett's past, which could then reveal more about Pen. Howlett’s Hunters is also a homage to Marvel’s Howling Commandos, so they may surely meet up with Pen at some point.

In Sandrock, the fight between Pen and Logan in the Starship Ruins was a homage to another great battle between brothers. Pen played the role of Scar and Logan was Mufasa in the famous Disney cliff scene. Unlike the film, and despite Pen’s attempt to kill Logan, both live to fight another day. Sandrock also had a Beauty and the Beast reference by modeling Pen after Gaston. The homage extended to the overall Sandrock story where the Builder, in the nongendered “Belle” role, learned that sometimes, the guy pretending to be the hero is not, and the one perceived as bad turns out to be good.

Another thing we learned in Sandrock was that Pen’s a false narrator. We could only guess his truths from his lies, which included comments he made during interviews or standing behind bars at the Civil Corp. Everything he said in Sandrock was to cover his true intentions and his purpose for being there. All of it. From his “I’m the protector” to his “I coulda been a contenda” speech was all lies to hide the fact he was a pissed-off brother from another mother.

Where could this story take us? I predict that like Wolverine, Logan could come close to killing Pen. Although, much like when Elsie stopped the fight in front of city hall, she could stop this one. She could be the voice warning Logan that if he killed Pen, he would be just as bad.

[Logan killing a person is not something I want to see happen for the sake of the character. He is better than that and I genuinely believe Pen will not die by his hands.]

Elsie, as the monster whisperer, could help Pen by another means, which may trigger Pen’s inflection point. It could also be where Pen chooses the path to him becoming the Loki to Logan’s Thor. It is quite plausible they could team up to battle against a much bigger mutual enemy.

This is where I think Aadit could play a big role, as he may have been experimented on by Duvos as well. He very well may hold the key to helping Howlett's Hunters undo some of the damage inflicted on both Duvos men. I am very curious to see how his story plays out in Evershine.

If this is in any way the path the story will take, then my earlier theory about Pen may still hold true but I hope it is not the case. I want to see all these men deal with their history and come out the other side better for it.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

READ 70 PAGES OF THE GOOD OMENS BOOK WITH WHICH I HAVE HOMOEROTIC TENSION AS WE KNOW

WE ALL KNOW ABOUT THE HOMOEROTIC RIVALRY BETWEEN ME AND MY COPY OF THE GOOD OMENS BOOK. WE KNOW. IT STARES AT ME, I STARE BACK, IT DARES ME TO READ IT AND FALL IN LOVE WITH CROWLEY MORE, I REFUSE. WE PUT THE UST IN LUST ETC.

BUT TODAY/YESTERDAY (RIP SLEEP SCHEDULE) SINCE I WASNT ON TUMBLR, I READ TILL PAGE 70 OF THE BOOK (TILL THE PART CALLED WEDNESDAY) AND GOD FUCKING DAMN. I READ IT LISTENING TO AN AZIRAPHALE BOOKSHOP AMBIENCE AND WITH CHOPIN PLAYING AND CANDLES LIT. ANYWAY. THINGS THAT HAVE STUCK OUT TO ME:

Crowley. Just everything about Crowley. God I love him. I fucking love him. This is why I avoid reading the book. I'm such a slut for Crowley. It's manageable on the show when I know it's an actor. But WORDS CROWLEY? WORDS CROWLEY IS REAL. I AM SO IN LOVE.

Aziraphale has perfectly manicured hands. I'm pretty sure this has been mentioned three times in the first 70 pages. Three times at minimum. I forget how twink he is in the show (idk how) but man the book does NOT let you forget and I love that.

Crowley absent-mindedly sank a duck. Aziraphale called him my dear (fanfic authors everywhere: write that down write that motherfucking shit down it's better than porn). Crowley un-sunk the duck. The duck was cross.

CROWLEY DID I MENTIONED CROWLEY OH MY BABY FANCIED THE JAMES BOND DECALS HE WANTED TO LISTEN TO VIVALDI COZ THEY WERE SO STRESSED AFTER RECEIVING THE ANTICHRIST THEY LOVE GOLDEN GIRLS (I LOOKED IT UP AND OH CROWLEY) THEY DRANK FOR A WEEK AFTER SEEING THE SPANISH INQUISITION THEY OMG.

THE DRUNK SCENE. I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD THE DOLPHINS CONVERSATION. OMG THESE TWO FUCKING FOOLS I ADORE THEM.

Crowley IN THAT SCENE AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT SCENE HOLY SHIT. CROWLEY JUST LISTING OFF ALL THE THINGS SHE KNOWS AZIRAPHALE LOVES.

AND OMG. The CONVOLUTED FUCKING METAPHOR CROWLEY COMES UP WITH INVOLVING A LITTLE BIRD FLYING TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE AND PECKING A MOUNTAIN AND COMING BACK AND DOING IT ON LOOP. FOR WHAT? JUST TO SAY THAT WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WAS GONE, HEAVEN WOULD STILL BE PLAYING THE SOUND OF MUSIC.

As usual just like me Crowley shot himself in the foot with that metaphor. Because AZIRAPHALE, THE LEGEND, STARTS SAYING THE BIRD MUST BE IMMORTAL FOR THAT, AND THEN SAYS NO ACTUALLY THE BIRD IS BEING CARRIED IN A SPACESHIP AND THE DESCENDANTS EMERGE FROM THE SPACESHIP and poor crowley is saying SO THE BIRD REACHES THE MOUNTAIN and azi excitedly says IN THE SPACESHIP and AAAAAAAAA-

Anyway right yes sorry what were we doing oh right the book.

Anathema is so adorable as a kid what a little brat holy shit I love her. I want to see all her homework written in Middle English. I want to know which teacher finally summoned the balls to correct it.

NEWT MON CHERI HE'S SO EXCITED ABOUT ONLY DESTROYING THE HOUSE'S POWER CIRCUIT WITH HIS EXPERIMENT. Because apparently last time he fucking caused a power outage in the whole block. Or county. We stan an optimist (no one talk to me about Crowley being an optimist I will go feral and rip your larynx out).

THE THIRD BABY DID NOT WIN PRIZES FOR TROPICAL FISH. THIS IS LIKE THE ENDING OF VILETTE WHEN CHARLOTTE BRONTE GOT GUILTTRIPPED BY HER DAD INTO WRITING IT AS AN OPEN ENDING BUT WE ALL KNOW IT'S A TRAGEDY FUCK ME.

CROWLEY THE PRAY THAT HE DOESN'T IT SOUNDS SO SUAVE IN THE SHOW BUT IN THE BOOK IT LITERALLY SAYS "AND FLEES". THE CHAOTIC ANXIOUS MOTHERFUCKER MAKES A RUN FOR IT.

AZIRAPHALE FUCKING GLOWERING AT CUSTOMERS AND SCARING THEM AWAY USING EVERY MEANS SHORT OF PHYSICAL VIOLENCE IM DEAD THAT LITTLE BASTARD PEAK CROSS INTROVERT ELDRITCH MONSTER ENERGY.

I CAN'T WAIT FOR ADAM TO ENTER (WELL AS A NOT BABY) AHAH.

I HOPE WARLOCK IS OKAY.

CROWLEY BEING DESCRIBED AS A YOUNG MAN DOES THINGS TO ME. AS DO THE DARK HAIR AND GOOD CHEEKBONES. DON'T EVEN TALK ABOUT DOING WEIRD THINGS WITH HIS TONGUE. I AM A SLUT FOR HER. IT'S TIMES LIKE THIS I REMEMBER WHY IM GREYACE AND NOT ENTIRELY ASEXUAL. IT'S CROWLEY.

I LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKES LIKE I DON'T EVEN GET SOME BUT THE DRY TONE IS HILARIOUS. LIKE HOW BOTH WARLOCK'S HEAVENLY AND HELLISH TUTORS READ FROM THE BOOK OF REVELATION. AND THE CUTTING COMMENTARY LIKE HOW THE DOWLINGS' SECRET AGENTS WERE TRAINED TO REACT TO WOMEN IN LONG ROBES. OR THE POLITICAL COMEDY WITH ALL THE CULTURAL ATTACHES AT ST JAMES. IT MAKES ME AMUSED EVEN THOUGH I HAVE NO CONTEXT. I WISH I UNDERSTOOD THEM MORE.

SORRY WHY AM I YELLING ABOUT THIS BEFORE 6 IN THE MORNING FUCK I FORGOT MY SLEEP MEDS NO WONDER IM STILL AWAKE AND HYPER ALSO CROWLEY ALSO AZI ALSO ADAM I HOPE MY LITTLE PLANTS MAKE IT.

WHEN IM DONE READING THE BOOK I WANNA REREAD IT OUT LOUD TO MY THREE LITTLE PLANTS TO MAKE THEM GROW HAPPY AND KNOW WHOM THEY WERE NAMED AFTER.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 28 - What the Fuck

This goddamn fucking place.

On AO3.

Unkillable fucking Pawpaw has a stitched-together brother. Or had. Maybe a brother. You ain’t super sure on that part, aside from the last name (the first part lost in a wet gurgle). They might’a looked something alike back when big boy wasn’t the size of an elephant—most of it the world’s largest beer gut literally straining at the seams of a line running right up his front. And with a Bane from Batman mask, connected to what absolutely has to be some kinda redneck moonshine still on his back. That he just wears around.

Hillybilly Steve, you decide, smells like a chemical factory on fire, if said chemical factory on fire was somehow stuffed into the week-dead corpse of a roadside possum carcass. Every time he grunts out a word—his mouth hidden under that Bane mask—the stink wafts out and you gag.

“Not a good indicator of any other talents of yours,” Astarion says.

It takes you a solid minute and a half of the group debating before what he said clicks and you turn to glare.

He’s watching the group huddle. Still notices you, and gives you an innocent look. “Did you need something, my dear?”

Fucking ass.

At least he’s still talking to you.

Hillybilly Steve knows about Pawpaw. He natters a bit about other things as you watch an actual, half-rotted corpse try his best to bus down a nearby table. It’d help a whole lot if he was a few feet to the left and actually like, over the table? But having one eyeball turned to jelly probably makes depth perception something of a challenge. Bless his heart.

“Fucking place,” you say.

Then Hillbilly Steve all but challenges one of y’all to drink with him.

It ain’t the liquor lining the walls he’s offering, neither. He wants one of y’all to sample whatever’s gurgling around in that keg on his back.

You can’t say for sure, but judging from his very mummified-looking skin and the decomposition stench, you’re pretty sure drinking that shit’d kill any of y’all dead.

He refuses to talk until somebody agrees.

Everybody looks at each other.

Gale’s out. As is Shadowheart. Lae’zel meets your gaze and lifts her chin all expecting. But you need somebody with the constitution of a sasquatch and a James Bond kinda charm.

You look at Astarion. He looks at Hillbilly Steve with a curl to his lip, and a muttered, “Ugh, we should just kill the porcine publican. I could take a go at questioning his corpse.”

Hillbilly Steve really looks like a beer-bellied, half-mummified corpse with autopsy scars. You don’t know much about magic, but you got a hunch that any spell ain’t gonna work on somebody who probably got embalmed.

Astarion does have nimble fingers. Can talk his way around an angry bull, you’d reckon.

Blood congealing in his hair out of his eyes ear mouth slack-jawed and gray and not moving—

No. No, you can’t. You just…can’t. He’s whole. On his feet. In one piece under that armor of his and he was fucking dead less than twenty-four hours ago. The image of Hillbilly Steve grabbing him, shoving that rancid hose down his throat so hard it cracks his jaw in half as fluid spews out around it…

You already seen him thrashing as he died.

“Hey.” A warm voice and a warmer hand on your shoulder. Wyll.

There’s a set to his jaw. A steadiness in his gaze. You can feel it in that split second, why the man is a folk hero. Why people trust him. He’s all solid calm and reassurance.

“I think I may be able to get our new friend talking,” he says.

The Blade of Frontiers who’s survived a devil contract since he was a teenager. Roamed the countryside killing monsters and saving people.

Who also looks like he’s maybe twenty-years-old.

Hillbilly Steve has tiny eyes, clouded like a dead fish. Overwhelmed by the flesh of his head and that horrible Bane mask. His skull is shaped like a war hammer (you seen a couple around here by now) and they stare out at nothing in particular.

Until they flick to y’all and away again.

He’s doing possum shit. Playing big and slow and stupid. But Pawpaw didn’t strike you as no fool, and you’re willing to bet Hillbilly Steve shares that in common.

Man’s a hippo. Big. Bulky. Most people think they’re cute or gross, but most not familiar with them don’t treat them as particularly dangerous. But hippos have the second-highest human body count of any animal except a mosquito, you read. Them jaws can crush a man in half as easy as they do them melons in the zoo videos.

Astarion ruptured.

He’s watching this. Face blank, eyes unreadable. Couple days ago, you would’a asked him to use his clever hands and blade of a tongue to try to finesse open this lock.

But he thrashed as he died. His eyes was so scared. You could feel it. Taste it, sour and acidic in the back of your throat.

Wyll is basically an infant. A college kid. Thrown into a shit mess and holding his ground, but still a fucking kid. You shouldn’t…it ain’t right.

He cups your elbow with that strong, steady hand of his.

“Trust me,” he says. “It won’t be the first time I’ve talked my way out of a bad situation. I got caught up in a debate with a sphinx a few years ago. I can hold my own.”

You blink at him. “Y’all got sphinxes?”

“They’re rare, but yes. Beautiful creatures. Very nasty claws. Let me handle this.”

He doesn’t once look to Astarion, whose mask slips around the edges a second. You can never tell exactly what’s under that—it’s too complicated, too tumultuous.

This is a chicken shit thing to do. It ain’t right.

The last time you tried to do something right…

“You’re sure?” you say, knowing you just folded. You’re taking the coward’s way, and the shame of the relief burns hot on your cheeks.

Wyll gives you the most reassuring smile you ever seen. You understand the whole firefighter swoon all the sudden.

“Careful, eh?” Karlach says, reaches out for his shoulder.

He turns that smile on her and puts a hand over her own. The way she perks up—a sunflower to the light—and she seems to remember all over again that she can touch people.

“I’d love to share a tankard with you, saer,” Wyll says and gives Hillybilly Steve a very jaunty bow.

So it begins. Starts cordial—Hillybilly Steve bellowing, “DRINK.”

Wyll takes a swig, but you catch a tiny wrist flick and oh hey, the man’s primary weapon is a rapier, huh. A small puddle of what looks a fuck of a lot like sparkly antifreeze forms under the stool. He’s running it under his shirt and down a pant leg, ain’t he.

Oh jesus.  That’s gotta be so gross. You make a note to donate whatever you get in the future to a clothing fund for him.

“He looks fit to burst,” Shadowheart says.

Hillybilly Steve does look to be stitched up the front with twine. That stretches and strains against the flesh barely holding it.

Neither she nor Astarion try to hide their wrinkled noses.

“Tell me a story,” Hillybilly Steve says. “Tell me a fable. A saga. Delight me.”

Wyll plays with his drink. Considers. Then launches into his sojourn through the hells, running down an awful devil (Karlach beams beside you). You ain’t heard this in all the details, despite knowing it happened. He’s a damned good storyteller. Mimes a meeting with something called a night hag. Hunches his shoulders and curls his fingers into claws. Even changes his voice to go all gravely. And if some of his drink slops out until it’s almost empty, well, the man’s getting really into it is all.

Hillybilly Steve stares rapt. Roars a literal, “Ha! Ha! Ha!” at the end of it.

Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear up under her bangs. “He’s quite good at this.”

“I know,” Karlach sighs. Does she…she’s got a tone.

Astarion catches your attention and then rolls his eyes all theatrically. Like y’all’s group didn’t try to give you a sex talk in front of everybody over his ass the other day.

It’s another two rounds—How did this place come to be cursed? How do the Thorms maintain it?—before Wyll leans in, props his chin on his hand. Looks up at the big old boy with very sincere admiration and earnestness (sweet fuck he’s good at that). “How did you come to be the strong specimen you are, anyhow?”

But Hillybilly Steve pauses. Slumps a little and looks into his now-empty mug. Says, “Father’s laughter. Not joy. Not ever. Only laughter.”

There’s a couple things to untangle in that, the first being, “Pawpaw is his fucking dad?”

The others look at you. Gale mouths “pawpaw.”

You ain’t sure about the rules of Faerun, but Pawpaw looks like an elf. And Hillybilly Steve has them same ears. He’s just…he looks like. Someone…did this to him. Made him into this. On purpose. And that purpose was a father?

“What the fuck,” you say.

Laughter. Not pride. Not love. Not even some kinda fucked up, misplaced, like, ownership. But laughter. As if that fucker Pawpaw saw this man, before he became all of that, and saw him as so much nothing he just…he did this. Or let someone else do it. To his own fucking son.

This goddamn, motherfucking place.

Hillybilly Steve—his name is fucking Thisobald—forces another mug at Wyll. Seems angry, now.

“Drink up, little man,” he says. “And no tricks.”

Fuck.

Wyll plays it cool, though. Takes an actual sip and you startle, but then he smiles.

“How did he do that?” you whisper.

“Oh, it’s not that difficult,” Astarion murmurs.

Wyll continues on about adventures. Cruising around on a pirate ship so he could gain their trust before taking out their captain. Escorting a noble bride through a fairy wood to meet her intended, and then breaking the groom out when it turned out the bride was a shape-shifting man-eater.

Even Astarion watches, now.

Then, once Thisobald is slurring, Wyll says, “What about your father? The legendary general?”

“Father,” Thisobald says slow and low. “Father is eternal. Invincible. Forever. Except not.”

It’s like somebody plucked a cord only y’all could hear. Seven dogs scenting a squirrel at the same time. The air seems to crackle.

“Ah, even the noblest and strongest of us do have their weaknesses, eh?” Wyll says. “Gods know I do.”

“No. No. Not weakness. Father is father. Don’t mention her.”

Shadowheart stands at alert.

“Oh?” Wyll says, chill as glass. “He has a lady friend, does he?”

But Thisobald shakes his head. A horse trying to throw a bit. It sends the hoses connected to his mask flopping heavily.

“I…I know you. Am knowing. You want father’s mysteries. No. Not ever. Father said. Ordered! Don’t say, don’t say. Not her cage! I’ll wake in the crypt. Not again! No talking again!” His clouded eyes fix on Wyll. “No. You drink, little man. You drink.”

He shoves a refilled mug. But instead of letting Wyll take it, he grabs Wyll—meaty paw covering the entire back of the smaller man’s skull—and shoves that mug into his face.

“Wyll!” Karlach says. Reaches for her ax.

Wyll throws up a hand. His throat moves as anti-freeze pours down his throat.

A second later Thisobald drops him. Wyll coughs. Gasps. Sways and slides off his seat.

This time, Karlach lunges forward to catch him, Gale swooping in beside her.

“It seems out friend has partaken too much,” Gale says. “Do excuse us.”

Thisobald grunts. His hippo eyes gleam. Then he raises his own mug, bigger than Karlach’s head with the horns. Lifts the bottom of his mask to slam it down. His stomach gurgles. But he don’t stop. Just drinks more. More. More.

“Not ever!” he bellows in between chugs. Let’s out a sickly-sweet belch. “I am strong! Too strong! Can’t! No talking! Never!”

The horrible gurgling continues. His body makes sounds ain’t no organic thing should ever make.

“Oh no,” Shadowheart says.

You turn, but Astarion is already gone.

Thisobald Thorm explodes.

[ruins-of-tragedy]

Done with RWBY's season three; episodes nine to twelve... I feel like James Bond's drink. Shaken not stirred.

Season 03, Episode 09: PvP

- Let the devastation begin.

- "The shining light will sink in darkness."

- Ozpin is a watching the fight about to unfold from his mechanical lair.

- Penny is being her sweet self. She considers it an honour to meet Pyrrha. 😭

- Pyrrha is so out of it. Am so scared.

- Ruby and Mercury. I get he must have had his reasons, but right now I don't like the guy. Ruby, run back!!!

- Fucking Ironwood.

- Ren and Nora cheering! Jaune is nervous. ✨

- Emerald. 😡

- I have noticed this before and perhaps forgot to mention it, but I love how Penny's blades have the on/off button at the hilt. It's cute! Very on theme.

- Pyrrha and her have begun fighting now. 😶‍🌫️

- Ruby turned into a missile that Mercury kicked away. Shite.

- He shot at her scroll. Some fucking "friends" they are.

- Penny is doing well. But for how long... 🥺

- Emerald is playing with Pyrrha's head. Good Gods. This is hurting me so much already.

- Mercury and Ruby at it still. YASSSSSSSS! Ruby is getting away.

- Penny's here to win it. Pyrrha's mind is being tampered with. AGHHHHHHHHH. A few blades have turned into too many.

- Penny was dismembered by her own strings. That blade of hers getting her dress piece was like a nail on the coffin. I am a little dead right now.

- They are actually showing the parts. Oh Gods. It's all machinary. People are horrified. Penny's pupils dilated. Fuck. Fuck

Fuck. Why did they have make it look almost real?

- Grimm monsters. Ruby sees Penny. She is crying. I think I am going numb.

- Mercury's happy about a job well done. I feel like punching a wall.

- The broadcast has been compromised. The queen chess pawn with a red background.

- WoWie. Even though I don't like Cinder, I must hand it to her. Great plan to bring down both Ironwood and Ozpin.

- A silver lining. ZWEI!!!! He is with Yang.

- Cinder is speaking. Ozpin is strangely calm and watching a ship come in behind him.

- Grimm have begun their invasion.

- "When the first shots are fired... Who do you think you can trust?" -Cinder. With the way our world is going, all this manipulation and the dialogue really came out here and attacked me...

- Jammed feeds. One of Junior's henchmen is also in the audience with popcorn. I don't know why that made me smile. But I needed it. Also, getting a weird sense of deja vu.

- Alarms are ringing. Threat level 9.

- "Please seek shelter in a calm and orderly manner." Cue to everyone screaming, crying, throwing up...

- Ironwood's gentle reminder to not panic has been interrupted by a Nevermore Grimm. Such good times.

- Kingdom's defences were breached? Ren seems to think so. He smort. I trust him. Does that explain the ships?

- Qrow and Glynda have come to Ozpin. He wants them to get to the city. They are reluctant but leave. Is Oz going to have a one on one showdown with someone soon?

- The Grimm of old are moving. The great migration. Trading in a concrete jungle for a high tech one.

- Whoever does the voice for Ozpin, when he talked to Ironwood asking him to use his army... Chills!!! Great job there!!!

- Holy hells. An entire unit of Atlas soldiers is down. Neo is in the house. She has two umbrellas?

- Ohhhhh. It's just Torchwick's stuff.

- Oh no no no no no. No. They are now commandeering a whole ship and bringing down the ones around... This is going just peachy, I say with clenched teeth.

- Fucking Adam and White Fang.

- Did they just give Grimm a ride in the ships??!?!??

- End credits. Penny's blueprints. The sketch for the flying machine looks incredible! Torchwick and his console of wreaking destruction. So much work has gone into scenes that only last less than a minute quite often. Hats off to the team!!!! Penny and her sketch with her weapons... I am sad. But since she is an Android, am sure she will be back!!!!! Will she remember everything though? I hope they kept backups. Nevermore Grimm sketches. I didn't realise they were inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's work! Was extremely confused about the Grimm of it all too initially. Thankfully the assumption of them being named after the Grimm brothers was right! The music playing right now reminds me of choirs and plays where they use sounds like this to mark a tragedy.

Season 03, Episode 10: Battle of Beacon

- Am not ready to be destroyed further. But that won't stop me now.

- "Victory for hate incarnate."

- Grimm are attacking. People are fighting. It's the cafeteria grounds for the arena.

- Blake and Weiss. Yang be running through the dorms of Beacon with Zwei. No matrons there to ban running through the halls? 😆

- Blake and her are checking up on one another!!! 💖

- Ruby ain't answering her scroll. Yang is obviously worried. Blake is trying to placate her.

- Cue running again.

- Weiss is sad over Penny. So be Blake. And moi.

- Yang just informed them of how the White Fang's releasing Grimm into the school. Blake is focusing on the detail. Should I be terrified?

- Yang has entered the fight. Left the call.

- Blake and Weiss are about to do their jobs. Thank Gods for locker launchers!!!

- Nevermore Grimm is still trying to get into the stadium. Ruby is shell shocked and right where we left her. They are just kids...

- Pyrrha. Staring at the wreckage of Penny. Good Gods. How long has she been doing that?

- Jaune is screaming himself hoarse asking her to move. I could actually feel the ensuing sore throat. Nice voice acting!!!

- He has left the stands and is now running towards Pyrrha. ❤️‍🔥

- Nevermore Grimm has entered the chat. And sent Penny's body parts, Pyrrha and Jaune flying.

- Incoming attack from the Grimm. Pyrrha, get away!!! Oh thank GODS.

- Ruby is now weilding one of Penny's swords. 👏🏻🥺✨

- Many many many locker launchers have brought down the Nevermore. Gotta love them!!!

- Good people are still around. That's why the world is still spinning. Gods I miss Penelope Park.

- Ohhh. Nevermore Grimm is alive still. Nice that the hunters are already on its back!

- Okie, I am loving how these folks are coordinating their moves!!! So GOOOOOOOOD!!!! 🤌🏻

- Nevermore Grimm really no more.

- Pyrrha is apologising about Penny. Awwwww. Ruby be right. It wasn't her fault.

- Jaune agrees. And is using his head. The person who took over the mic is the one responsible. I AM LOVING HIS GLOW UP.

- Also, him handing Pyrrha her weapons when she was the one to teach him how to wield his well.... The poetic evolution of it all. ✨🫶🏻🤩

- More Grimm are entering the arena. Griffons! Ooooooh!

- Crescent Rose is here! So are Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck. They are good. I love the doc.

- Velvet took a picture of Ruby being a leader!!!! Can I get a copy?!

- Why are they acting like Barty and Peter won't make it? They will, right?

- I hope the hunters leaving now will go help Weiss, Blake and Yang at the school.

- People are leaving in ships. Grimm are arriving in different ships.

- Ironwood's synthetic army isn't working too well. He shall now fight on his own!

- His grip is so strong it pierced the concrete beneath him?! War flashbacks... Jokes aside, he must be a good fighter at least.

- Oh my Gods. His entire battle was difficult for me to watch. Not because I dislike him, but it's just too reminiscent of stuff I have had to witness on TV ever since I could operate it. Very well animated at least!!!

- Young hunters meet Ironwood. He is explaining the current status of the situation. YAYYYYYY! They are now aware of what's going on.

- Holy shite. This guy is being all badass but I can only cringe for reasons that have nothing to do with him. Ugh. Hate when that happens.

- Bet what these young hunters and huntresses choose between saving their own arse and that of everyone else's...

- Torchwick is having a blast. Pun intended. 😆. The chesspiece is in the mainframe of the ship... Does that mean they can now control the synthetic army?

- Yup. Glynda and Qrow are with some of them. The tech has turned. Blake and Weiss are being shot at too.

- Holy SHITE. Ironwood has been compromised by his own army. Does he make it?

- Ruby is about to ride the skies with a locker launcher. I love her.

- She has landed on Roman's ship. I am a little worried.

- Weiss is fighting robots. Blake is battling the White Fang. I love how they are both going against pillars of their communities. The symbolism of it all... 🤌🏻

- They are parting ways? Why do the protagonists never stay together?! 🥺

- Adam and Blake have seen one another. I am SCARED. Blake looks to be as well. Also, did this guy just kill an Atlas soldier?! That was extremely unnecessary.

- Snippets of our favourite teenage hunters fighting Grimm. Only to pan to Cinder, Emerald and Mercury.

- They are shooting videos of the Atlas machinary helping the Grimm. Where is this nation's PR team?!?!!

- Are the Goliath Grimms arriving? Major earthquake alert.

- Cinder has left. Ozpin is keeping watch on the horrific goings-on from his office. And is getting ready...

- There's a dragon Grimm?!?!??!???? Who lays dark eggs for Grimm children. I have no words.

- Jaune and Pyrrha smiling at one another while getting ready to fight was so sweet!!!!! 💖

- Ozpin's here. Pyrrha is going to him. Jaune is going after her... Cinder is seeing this happen. Oh no.

- End credits. Dragon Grimm sketch. Such detail! Griffon Grimm. With a Ruby Rose size comparison! Beowulf Grimm sketch now. Ironwood and his weapon. I don't know why but I like all the characters' designs here so much!!!! The Atlas synthetic army. The music wants me to write an epic...

Season 03, Episode 11: Heroes and Monsters

- Things are about to get so much worse. As if they weren't already.

- "Misery and pain for all."

- Dragon Grimm has entered the chat.

- Griffon Grimms are descending as well. Ruby is fighting one!

- Slash and Neo's camera flash. Torchwick knows who be here.

- Adam and Blake. She looks so scared... This fucker is about to murder a student?!

- Oh thank Gods. Blake didn't let that happen.

- I want to kill Adam. What fucking betrayal did Blake commit. You fucking fucker.

- This ginormous son of a gun, the highest order of insult in my head, needs to learn what "my love" means. Then proceed to never use the words again and bury himself in the ground six feet under. While being alive. I think that would help.

- The young hunters are fighting the robotic army AND the Grimm. Where are the other professionals?!

- The kids are tired. Coco is allowing Velvet to use her weapon. Hmmm. Must be something good!

- Ooooooh! New song alert!!!! Weiss is confused. Coco wants her to keep watching...

- Oh my GODS. She is using a hologram of Crescent Rose and now Weiss' sword?!?!??

- Yang's gauntlets, check! Blake's weapon too... The hologram chameleon weapon. 🤯

- Ohhhh. That's why Velvet was taking pictures.

- Velvet was hit. Weiss cannot take any of it. What is she attempting?

- OH MY GODS!!!! WEISS DID IT!!!!! SUMMONED A KNIGHT WARRIOR OF LIGHT!!!!! WINTER WOULD BE SO PROUD!!!!!!! I know I am.

- Velvet is okie and snapped another picture.

- "You have got to be kidding me!" is right Sun. Will this never end?

- Ruby and Neo are fighting. Torchwick is here too... Two on one. I feel like joining this battle myself.

- Oh no. Ruby is losing. Might fall. Shite. I don't like this.

- THANK GODS. Neo is now gone with the wind. And so is her umbrella.

- I love Ruby. We have already covered this. I shall always bet on her.

- Roman was just eaten up by a Griffon Grimm. I am glad. His tirade was getting tiring. Ruby doesn't have Crescent Rose though. Fuck.

- And she didn't need it apparently!!!! 🎉✨

- Ruby is okie. And a badass.

- Ironwood is alive!!! No matter how cringe he be for me, am glad he lived.

- Ohhhhhh. He is half robot too. Would he qualify to be a cyborg?

- Ironwood really thought Qrow was about to unleash his weapon's full scythe potential on him... LoLLL!

- Grown-up decisions on further steps to help. Ironwood's ship has decided to crash land nearby. Small miracles!

- The machines are self-destructing! YAYYYYYY!

- Yang is here!!! Weiss is tired and in charge of looking for Ruby. Yang is going to Blake. 💖

- Ozpin, Pyrrha and Jaune are in the vault. Oh Gods. Jaune don't know what's happening or about to happen. He is still standing guard. 🥺

- Pyrrha's choice... Does she even have one now? Nope. She has entered the pod.

- Fucking Adam. Someone get this guy away from me. Whiny little baby.

- Did he just- Die. He needs to DIE.

- "I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love." -Adam. Enter Yang... Good golly. The timing. 🤌🏻

- OH MY GODS. OH MY GODS. OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOODS.

- Blake's eyes went wide. And Adam said, "...Starting with her."

- I am tearing up a little. There's so much going on. Some pretty bad shite. But this. THIS. Makes me happy. ✨

- Emotional whiplash is disorienting. Back to it.

- Oh no. It's begun. Amber's aura is being transferred to Pyrrha. Who is now in pain. Fuck.

- NOOOOOOO. Cinder just shot Amber. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

- Did Adam just STAB BLAKE?!?!????? YANG HAS SEEN THEM NOW.

- OH MY GODS. BLAKE STILL DOESN'T WANT YANG TO GET INVOLVED.

- I am dying.

- "(Yang screams with blinding rage)" -Subtitles. Super Saiyyan Yang!!!!!

- OH NO. THIS IS HOW IT HAPPENS?!??!???!!??????

- Yang has lost her arm.

- Amber has died. The lights have gone out.

- Listen. I know yellow is Yang's colour. And they don't necessarily want to show blood. Therefore, Yang's blood being gold is intentional in that way... HOWEVER, in Greek mythology the Gods have golden blood too. Ichor. So Yang is a Greek God now... Yes, I am delusional. Yes, I need a Percy Jackson RWBY AU to heal. Yes, my next stop will be AO3. Right after I finish with my tears.

- Cinder has the rest of the power. Some of it must have managed to go to Pyrrha though, I think. What's about to happen now?

- Jaune went to attack Cinder but she deflected him. Pyrrha is out of the tube and ready to fight. Ozpin wants them to get away and have Glynda, Qrow and Ironwood be sent to him.

- Yang is down. Adam wants to finish the job. Blake is between them now.

- "Why must you hurt me Blake?" THIS FUCKING FUCKED UP FUCKITY FUCKHEAD FUCKER. NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU. I WILL FUCK YOU UP SO BAD YOU WON'T EVEN HAVE TIME TO SCREAM!!!!!!!!

- That was Blake's copycat. But he didn't know that. And he actually beheaded her... I NEED TO KILL THIS GUY. PLEASE.

- Blake has dragged Yang away. Adam should be put in front of me.

- Cinder and Ozpin... "She was right about you. Such arrogance." -Cinder. Who be 'she?'

- End credits. Torchwick sketches. You will not be missed. But the art is fantastic! Half-machine Ironwood. Huh. Cinder's last name is Fall. I didn't catch that before. Now Qrow sketches. Alongside his weapon! I love how thorough the folks behind the show are!!!! Velvet and her camera's turn. Is this the grayscale of the place where Adam, Blake and Yang's showdown happened?

Season 03, Episode 12: End of the Beginning

- What is happiness? I don't know her.

- Huh. I think this is RWBY's first half an hour long form episode. I am quaking in my non-existent boots.

- "When it falls..."

- Cinder has turned into fireworks? Katy Perry called it... 😆😭

- Ohhhh. It's her fight with Ozpin. The guy is actually holding his own! YAYYYYYY!!!

- Mandatory evacuation to a safe-zone in Vale. Atlas personnel will guide them.

- Zwei is here. ✨

- Finally. Ruby and Weiss have met up. This is going to hurt.

- Yang and Blake are down. Ren and Nora don't seem to be doing much better.

- Oh my Gods. Blake can't stop apologising. Fuck.

- Okie. Ruby's call to her sister broke me a little.

- Jaune and Pyrrha haven't gotten there yet?!

- Dragon Grimm is circling. White Fang are retreating. Ren and Nora are in no condition to do anything. Ruby is saying she will find Jaune and Pyrrha and bring them back... Oh no.

- Weiss is joining her. 🥹

- Zwei wishes them well!!! 💖. So does Sun, but gosh he be done. Samesies, my dude.

- Pyrrha and Jaune are coming out of the school! Jaune is about to call Glynda and is asking about what went down in the vault.

- Cinder is using fire as her jet packs. Shite. What happened to Ozpin?

- Pyrrha is about to stay back. FUCKKKKK. Jaune is trying to convince her otherwise... AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

- She kissed him. Are you fucking kidding me. I am so happy but so fucking done at the same time. She will die. WHY?!???

- Pyrrha locker launched Jaune away. Forever a badass. ❤️‍🔥. And now she is using her semblance to move up... Don't take her. Please. I am not ready.

- Jaune has called up Weiss. Their friendship is the best. 🫶🏻

- He is going hysterical. They keep saying they will save everyone... I can't.

- Much Grimm. Much banter between White Rose... Ruby saying "I have a plan." While Weiss replies with, "You always do." The excellence... 🤌🏻. Things are going to shite, but they are still at it. Good.

- Cinder wants to keep the Dragon Grimm as her pet? And it's working?

- Pyrrha has entered the chat. OH MY GODS. THIS FIGHT SCENE IS ONE FOR THE AGES.

- Dragon Grimm approaching. It likes the bad people? Cinder is in a headlock. Pyrrha's spear has now been broken. Big blast. Beacon's tower is in pieces but still standing.

- So is Pyrrha. She has her shield and semblance. Good Gods. More battle.

- IT'S THE FACT THAT PYRRHA CAUGHT CINDER OFF GUARD!!!! AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

- Cinder threw away the polarity induced gears which were keeping her down... One hit Pyrrha and some red energy passed through her?

- Ruby and Weiss are handling the Grimm below. Now Ruby is walking on walls courtesy of Weiss. Oh no.

- Shield vs arrow. Arrow breaks but is put back together. Fuck glass.

- NO. Right in Achilles' heel?!?!????!?? Pyrrha has been hit.

- "Do you believe in destiny?" Stop. Please.

- Struck right in front of Ruby. CINDER FUCKING DISINTEGRATES HER?!?????????!!!??

- Only Pyrrha's headgear is left. I cannot.

- Ruby. She is just a kid. The fuck. This is too much. You can see it on her face.

- Ummm. What just happened. Ruby screamed. White wings sprouted from within her. Everything is consumed by it. Cinder was so confused she also faded away?

- Who flatlined? Qrow is there. He has got Ruby. It's all still white. Taiyang is Yang and Ruby's dad.

- CCT is down. No way to communicate with the world outside. Ozpin's still missing.

- White has given way to Ruby asleep in a room. Her father is dozing off in a chair near her.

- They are both awake now.

- Qrow got Ruby home. She is asking about Yang. I love these sisters.

- Yang is not okie? 🥺

- Things with Vale is under control. The "thing," dragon Grimm? Still alive. Ruby did a number on it apparently!!! But it's attracting Grimm to school.

- Ruby wants to know how she did a number on it. Things are too messed up. Qrow has arrived in all his drunk wisdom.

- Tai and Qrow don't get along too well? I guess this is just a particularly tenuous topic.

- Pyrrha's really gone. That confirmation hurts like a biatch.

- Ruby has silver eyes. It's important... Both Ruby and her mum were special in a way that's reminiscent of legends and stories.

- "...those with silver eyes are destined to lead the life of a warrior." Oh Gods.

- Everything has gone to shite. Every part of Ruby hurts. And all she can think about is how she can help. Holy hell. Martyr.

- Qrow telling Ruby about their enemies being in Haven... Was that intentional? I am terrified.

- Also, maybe this is too callous to think in such a way, but I have a theory that when Yang and Ruby went out in search of Yang's mum... Qrow was following them all along. Am pretty sure the entire thing was orchestrated. They were led there to see if Ruby will unleash her powers early, mayhaps.

- Yang has sunflowers in her room. She looks so different without her energetic emotions and smile. This is the worst.

- Weiss had to leave with her father?!

- Oh shite. Atlas is in extreme hot water and was framed well. Do they even have a PR team?

- Blake ran. Oh fuck. I can't even blame her though.

- "...And I don't care." -Yang. I think she is facing the exact opposite problem. But yeah. Everything is in smithereens.

- From fall to winter. That weather transition was nice.

- I just realised something. Ruby's room has two beds. Am pretty sure one is for Yang, what with the yellow pillows. But she is staying in another room. This is heartbreaking in a different way now.

- Jaune's here! And yup. Haven is the next stop.

- Awwwwwww!!!! Nora and Ren are going too. Team JNR without P looks almost uncanny. It's jarring. At least they have Ruby.

- Is this voiceover from the same lady from back in volume one? Commenting on hope and snuffing it out and dividing mankind? Is she talking to Ozpin?

- Grimm are congregating near Beacon. Glynda can only fix so much. She be tired. Blake's being a ninja. Alone. Weiss is with her father in a jet. Ruby bid goodbye to her mum's memorial plaque and is off with Team JNR. My autocorrect doesn't know Pyrrha has passed away. I didn't want to know either. 😭

- "This is the beginning of the end, Ozpin." So this is Salem. And she has him... Funny how the name of the episode is "End of the Beginning."

- She wants to watch Oz burn... Salem has pyromaniac tendencies then. Good to know.

- Qrow is keeping tabs on Ruby and co from afar. Of course he planted the idea. He has Ozpin's sword?

- QROW CAN TURN INTO A CROW?!?!??!??

- Huh. No end credits scene.

(You spoil me, you let Pyrrha down. So don't do it. Aashchi!)

[artaxlivs]

Masterlist of my Hawkeye/Marvel works:

(In no specific order)

Say It Where I Can Hear You - Rated E - Winterhawk & Destiel crossover: Dean & Cas go on a hunt & run into Clint & Bucky. Dean hates Bucky Barnes. Monster of the week meets kink exploration (two separate couples)

Honey Got Me Hooked On You - Rated E - Clint/Bucky/Natasha: The one where Natasha thinks Bucky is the honey pot, Bucky thinks Clint is the honey pot and Clint just wants someone to dip their fingers into his–

Spring Dawning (Part 1) - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: The entire Avengers Coven is cursed & divided. Clint & Bucky are together except that Clint is cursed to live every day as a hawk, Bucky every night as a wolf.

That's So Fletch - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Movie & Musical references, anti-bullying campaign, lessons about arrows

True Colors Series (8 Parts/complete) - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: The Snap didn’t dust half the universe, it turned them into soulmates who can only see colors when they find each other. Almost strangers to soulmates

The Case of the Missing Purple Sweatshirts - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: Someone is stealing Clint’s sweatshirts -my excuse to let Clint talk about Scooby Doo

Through the Looking Glass - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Instead of talking, they miscommunicate themselves into being sex dungeon fuck buddies, BDSM Dungeon fic, miscommunications, learning through bad negotiations, so very much smut, background Steve/Darcy

Something to Tweet About - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: Someone tweets a series of photos of Clint & Bucky hanging out and mutually pining, they deal with it by avoiding it (obviously). friends to lovers, social media ship to lovers (podfic)

A Life Well Lived - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: just a glance at Clint’s last day

Make it Permanent - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Secret dating, hickeys and tattoos and a little bit of healthy possessiveness

And the Stockings Were Hung - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Christmas Exchange fic, Bucky's first Christmas at the tower, fluff and smut

Rotten Apples - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: A look into Clint's childhood trauma and how the bad stuff is easier to believe

Porn & Prose - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: some backstage smut between Mr Bingley (Clint) and Mr Darcy (Bucky)

Bucky, Lemme Smash - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: I just wanted to turn Clint purple and use this line from that meme, all the purple smut (Podfic here)

Both, Both is Good - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Bucky avoids Clint until he realizes Clint has been avoiding him, fuck buddies to lovers, smut & miscommunication

The Happiest Place on Earth - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Bucky plays Hawkeye in Disneyland because the actor who plays him is short and he’s real pissed that some guy named Clint is tall enough to play the Winter Soldier, enemies to lovers, Clint in eyeliner

Three to Tango - Rated E - Clint/Bucky/Natasha: James & Natasha teach Clint’s dance class, then they invite him for private lessons. Healthy communication, smut and Clint being an unreliable narrator

A Bird By Any Other Name (Series) - Rated E - Clint/Steve: Clint as the Winter Soldier thru WW2 & the present, hurt/comfort, mental struggles, smut

Body Count - Rated E - Clint/Steve: tumblr prompt hitman meets a sex worker, just so much smut

Friends Don’t Let Friends Wait Too Long - Rated T - Clint/Steve: Steve is too nervous to ask Clint out, Bucky’s gonna help in an helpful way. Fluff, misunderstandings, laughter, Natasha being a troll

Draw & Release (2 part series) - Rated E - Clint Barton/Jason Todd: Clint gets a tattoo & finds a new boyfriend/Dom

[marigold-hills]

The Black Wizard (Part 6)

a Wolfstar Howl’ Moving Castle AU

PART ONE | PREVIOUS PART

Sirius eats in a way Remus has never seen someone eat before. Each portion is perfectly equal, little squares of the pie not mixing with the mash. He keeps the gravy on the side, only dipping the forkful just before he takes a bite.

There is something so practiced about it, Sirius doesn’t seem like he needs to put focus into it - like it’s natural. He looks instead at Remus, head titled just a smidge and a sly little smile across his face. Like he knows something.

Remus bristles. Waits.

He might not know magic but he’s scrappy, quick, and holding a knife.

“Which was your favourite?” Sirius asks.

“Pardon me?” Remus doesn’t understand.

“The cakes. Which did you like? I’m partial to the strawberry myself.”

“Umm…” Remus stutters and hears James cackle behind him, menace that he is. “Chocolate. I liked the chocolate one, I mean.”

Brightness spilling across Sirius’s eyes like a sunrise. “Good choice!” He exclaims. “They outdid themselves with that one. I’ll see if they’ve got any more.”

“They?” Remus feels like the conversation is getting away from him - like he’s stepped into some strange dream in which monsters and wizards sit and chat about their meals instead of being hunted and hunter.

“The patisserie across the street. In the capital that is. Amazing what they can make with sugar and eggs,” he must notice Remus’ startled expression and mistake it for confusion. “You didn’t think I did the baking, did you?”

Remus didn’t really consider it. Where the confectionery came from. Magic he supposed, and he tells Sirius as much.

“If only, love. No, can’t magic up food, I'm afraid, one of its pesky little limitations that force me to interact with the general public.”

“It’s why he’s stuck us on the poshest street in the Kingdom,” James crackles from his hearth. Sirius throws a chunk of pastry at him, which the fire consumes with some happy pleased noises.

“You weren’t meant to enjoy that.”

“Throw less tasty things next time,” an impression of a rude gesture.

They bicker and play fight and Remus thinks he doesn’t know. He can’t know. If Sirius knew? This wouldn’t be happening. They wouldn’t be discussing cake flavours across a table, he wouldn’t be allowed to witness the domesticity inside of the Castle.

He’s not sure why he’s been welcome in the first place, but the rest had been welcome. The food more than. He’s ready to leave, he thinks, and will once the sun sets and Sirius goes to sleep. Sneaking out at night is cowardly but something in Sirius - the bright eyes maybe, maybe the way he watches as Remus speaks - makes Remus sure he’d want to ask questions.

@tealeavesandtrash

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

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@moon-girl88

[positivexcellence]

Is there garlic on this pizza? An oral history of Supernatural's 'Monster Movie' episode

THE BEGINNING

What started as a simple enough idea — a black-and-white episode — was then put into the hands of writer Ben Edlund, who’d already crafted some of the show’s more creative hours, including “Hollywood Babylon,” which marked one of the series’ first meta episodes, and “Ghostfacers,” which was shot like a cheesy ghost-hunting reality show using handheld cameras. Alongside Edlund was director Robert Singer, an executive producer on the series and a massive movie fan himself.

ERIC KRIPKE (Creator): I was an obsessive fan of The X-Files and in their prime, they got really bold and adventurous with their format, and they had a black-and-white episode. I was always hoping that we could start taking those same kinds of swings. I remember saying, “I want to do a black-and-white episode where Sam and Dean are up against the classic movie monsters.” But I think Ben came up with the shapeshifter. We were trying to figure out: How do you get a mummy and a werewolf and a Frankenstein and a Dracula in the same episode? That makes no f---ing sense. So this idea of a shapeshifter who loved those movies and was ultimately just a fanboy was the secret to cracking that one open. 

ROBERT SINGER (Director): I think that script was Ben at his best. I was really happy that I was in line to direct because I really loved those old movies, so it was fortuitous that I got to do it. 

JENSEN ACKLES (Dean Winchester): It’s all just paying homage to the old-school ways of doing things, which having Bob at the helm, he’s seen all those movies time and time again, so he was the perfect guy to direct this episode. 

KRIPKE: Bob has an encyclopedic knowledge of movies, especially older films. He’s a classicist and his directing style is a lot of that kind of beautiful, elegant Hollywood style, and I think he just really relished it.

SINGER: I shot generally with wider lenses than I would normally do with Supernatural to try to give it some of that old-time feel. I really took pains to make it look as old fashioned as I possibly could. I’m a big fan of James Whale, who had done Frankenstein, and there are a lot of great crane shots in those movies, so I did a lot of crane work in this. We did a lot of shadow play. 

JARED PADALECKI (Sam Winchester): You put Ben Edlund on writing and Bob Singer on directing and magic is bound to happen.

But there was another piece of the puzzle that needed to come together for the magic to truly work: Who would play the shapeshifter (and therefore spend the episode doing their best Dracula)? The answer was Todd Stashwick.

TODD STASHWICK (Dracula): They wanted a full-on replication of Bela Lugosi’s performance. I had the DVD of the 1930’s Dracula, so I was watching that just to get the mannerisms and vocal intonation down so that I wasn’t doing a Xerox carbon copy but rather actually trying to get that Hungarian dialect that he has. I went in [to the audition] and just swung for the rafters.

SINGER: We had him do one of the Dracula scenes and then do the speech where he’s telling her how he became the way he became and Todd just killed it. That was an easy call to cast him.

STASHWICK: They wanted to know that you were going to be able to bring both sides to it, the full-on studied Dracula performance and then to let that mask drop and see the wounded man that is the monster. 

KRIPKE: We needed someone who could stick the landing on the Dracula part and that’s really hard. It’s hard to do it and have it not come off like a bit. Todd is a remarkable mimic of Bela Lugosi and brings humanity and soulfulness and depth to it. There’s something in his eyes that made it deeper and sadder than had you cast someone who was just going for an impersonation.

PADALECKI: That episode belongs to Todd Stashwick. He’s so damn good. 

Alongside Stashwick was Melinda Sward, whose character Jamie, a local waitress, caught Dean's eye and marked a first for the show. 

KRIPKE: At the time, there was a young female fan named Jamie. She and her mother would write us letters and they were super fans, and we were still early enough that we’re like, “I can’t believe there’s fans.” Jamie had medical issues, so when the season was coming up, I wrote her a response and said, “If you concentrate on getting better, we’ll name a character after you.” And she responded and said, “That’s amazing, but can you just do me a favor? Can you make sure it’s a character that doesn’t die?” So the female lead in this one we named Jamie. That was one of the only times we ever named a character after a real person and a fan. The happy ending is she was thrilled and she grew up healthy and now tours around with a replica of the Impala. 

ACKLES: Jamie was one of my favorite Dean Girls. Melinda was so good and so fun.

From the instant the episode began, fans knew they were in for something special as the old black-and-white WB logo kicked off a very old-school credits sequence.

SINGER: Right from the opening of the Warner Brothers shield, you know where you’re going. It set the tone perfectly.

KRIPKE: That and “Changing Channels” are the only two episodes where I’ll sit down and just watch the credit sequence. The font, the way you list every crew member, and it just goes on forever. And [composer Christopher] Lennertz wrote real orchestral music for it. I just love the opening of that episode and the way we did that title sequence. But changing subjects, what that reminds me of is the singular genius of Ben Edlund to set this episode during Oktoberfest. Suddenly everyone looks like European villagers and everything becomes a real monster movie.

SINGER: And that location was a party site, but it worked perfect for us. 

PADALECKI: It was like an amusement park in the outskirts of Vancouver that we rented out. It ended up unfortunately getting torn down and turned into condos or something.

THE MIDDLE

With the setting and the cast locked, the brothers set out on their hunt, arriving at Oktoberfest to help solve a murder. And when the investigation made Dean late to his first date with Jamie, he found himself face-to-face with Dracula. So naturally, Dean punched the shapeshifter in the face. A fight ensued, one that ended with Dean holding an ear and Dracula ... riding a vespa?

ACKLES: I believe one of the many reasons this show lasted as long as it did is because it can be scary but then at the same time, you throw something like the scooter in and it layers in comedy with horror, with drama, with romance. It touches it all. Bob said it early on and it became a mantra of ours: “No joke is too cheap.” 

STASHWICK: That’s the infamous assault scene. I’m in full crazy mode and I’m supposed to clock Jensen in his beautiful face with my elbow, and for whatever reason in that moment — I perhaps leaned in, he perhaps leaned in — we closed that gap and I clocked him. So what you see on the DVD extras is me being all Dracula and then me being mortified that I just hit their billion dollar baby in the face.

ACKLES: He caught me with an elbow but he probably thought he hit me harder than he did. It was a mix between a good shot and a graze, but he immediately broke character. He was like, “Are you good?” And I was like, “Yeah, that one woke me up.” [Laughs]

Dean made it through that fight, but the shapeshifter had already planned its next move: While Sam checked out an eccentric local that they thought was the killer, Dean and Jamie shared a drink back at the bar where she worked. Her friend Lucy (Holly Elissa) then showed up just in time to spike their drinks. By the time Dean woke up, he was wearing Lederhosen while strapped to a table in a dungeon.

SINGER: Jensen was like, “Oh god do I have to wear this?” So to make him feel better, I put on the Lederhosen top. I didn’t go with the full shorts but I did direct that day in the Lederhosen top to take the edge off it a little bit for him.

ACKLES: I remember that! He directed in that shirt. [Laughs] Those were authentic leather Lederhosen from Bavaria. Only the best for Dean.

PADALECKI: When Jensen’s first getting strapped to the table, cause he’s a big guy, I remember them talking about how for the visual's sake, they wanted it to be like he’s a quote-unquote damsel in distress, so if they used a normal-sized platform, it would’ve looked comical, but not in a good way. So they had to make it a little bigger cause he’s kind of big.

Dean wasn’t in the dungeon long before Dracula left him to go answer the doorbell. It seemed the shapeshifter ordered a pizza … and he had a coupon.

KRIPKE: I just love how there’s the monster lab in the basement but then you go upstairs and it’s this mid-century ranch house. That’s almost a direct ripoff of the Steve Martin movie The Man with Two Brains.

SINGER: [Set designer] Jerry [Wanek] did a great job in building the dungeon set, and then when the doorbell rings, you realize it’s in the bottom of a suburban house with a pizza guy showing up at the door. 

KRIPKE: When Ben wrote the script, we talked about that scene more than any other scene in the episode. We were so specific about how we wanted the Dracula shapeshifter to react to the pizza guy and the way he’s scared when he says, “Is there garlic on the pizza?” And then the way the pizza guy’s so bored and over it: “Did you order garlic?” And then he says, “No!” It’s the way that he’s so bored of this Dracula at the door.

PADALECKI: I think Jensen and I must’ve watched this episode together in 2008 because I remember us looking at each other and going like, ”Oh my god, [the pizza guy] is way better than he needs to be!”

ACKLES: That line, because of the way that Todd delivered it, we used that line on set many, many times. Whenever somebody asked a question that had an obvious “no” to it, it’d be like, “Hey, did you want the big light on in the distance?” And Bob would be like, “Is there garlic on it?” So that became a little ism on set.

STASHWICK: I’m a Second City guy, so “yes, and” is drilled into my head and yet the two memes I’m most known for, I’m saying the word “no,” and that is Supernatural and Star Trek. I have the no's that are heard around the world. 

In the end, the brothers came out victorious and another monster was dead, but not before this one made you feel a little something (and gave one heck of a final monologue quoting King Kong). 

KRIPKE: Ben gets all the credit, and rightfully so, for writing the crazy episodes, but where I don’t think he gets enough credit is what a disciplined screenwriter he is in terms of character consistency and rule consistency and just the emotion and pathos he brings to every single story he does. No matter how crazy, he always has such a talent for capturing humanity. I wasn’t counting on the shapeshifter to have pathos but when he gives that speech at the end, it’s so sad. I give him all the credit in the world for that.

SINGER: Eric used to say, “Every villain is a hero of his own story,” so we always tried, as best we could, to give the villains something to do and learn more about them and give them full characters. So even with all this fun, we managed to give him something a little more to do. 

PADALECKI: He becomes an almost sympathetic character — I stress almost because he did kill a couple people — but what a great character arc all inside of one episode.

STASHWICK: Because this character wasn’t just a cartoon Dracula and he had that human moment, I think it made him stick in people’s minds more. This monster just really loved the movies. He was the ultimate cosplayer. It might be the thing I’m most known for outside of Star Trek, that one episode of TV.

THE END...?

Although Dracula didn’t make it out alive, the episode seemed to breathe new life into the series, marking perhaps its biggest risk yet, though not the biggest risk the show would ever take. 

SINGER: It kind of laid a template for other big swings that we took that were out of the ordinary, whether it was “Changing Channels” or “The French Mistake.” This was the first of our big swings of being totally different than what the show was generally week to week.

KRIPKE: I remember it getting a positive reception. I think people appreciated the swings we were starting to take. I just love that this small little supernatural show that’s arguably a Buffy ripoff on The CW got so experimental. I am really proud that we were doing legit avant-garde stuff, really experimental filmmaking, of which this was one, and then we just kept pushing it. 

PADALECKI: It’s such a great episode of television and I think we have a few in our 15 years that could stand alone as something fun to watch and out of the box, and it's certainly easy to argue "Monster Movie" is at the top.

ACKLES: This was really when we were hitting our stride. We were in the pocket with these characters, with the storytelling, with the writing. The first year was really finding our feet, the second was like, "Okay we somehow survived a network merge, let’s not mess this up." And then third season we started playing a little bit. So by the fourth season, we’re like, "Now we know where we need to be." This was the perfect time to do one of these outside-the-box episodes. This is definitely one of my top 10.

SINGER: I directed 48 episodes and if somebody asked me which is my favorite, I would probably say this one. I just had the best time doing it. 

Entertainment Weekly

[mabsmixes]

"Bucky"

This list catalogs the story of James "Bucky" Barnes throughout the films "Captain America: The First Avenger" (act one) and "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" (act two).

This playlist includes songs related to the Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes) ship

The link to the list is in the title

Primary Genres:

Rock Chamber Pop Folk Punk

Top Artists

Florence + The Machine David Bowie The Mountain Goats

Vibes

Mix of high and low energy songs Dark, moody, and theatrical trigger warning: multiple songs include war/blood/violence/death mentions of suicide

Below is a full lyric breakdown where I highlight important lyrics of each song and describe why I chose it/what it represents. I also have each act separated into sections.

Act One

Section One: Out On The Fire Escape

The songs in this section reflect the time before war, when Bucky was a young man in the Brooklyn slums, trying to get by alongside his best friend, Steve.

"Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk"

and then there's those other things which for several reasons we won't mention everything about them is a little bit stranger a little bit harder a little bit deadly it isn't very smart tends to make one part so broken-hearted sitting here remembering me always been a shoe made for the city go ahead, accuse me of just singing about places with scrappy boys faces have general run of the town playing with prodigal songs takes a lot of sentimental valiums can't expect the world to be your raggedy andy while running on empty you little old doll with a frown you got to keep in the game maintaining mystique while facing forward i suggest a reading of 'a lesson in tightropes' or 'surfing your high hopes' or 'adios kansas' it isn't very smart tends to make one part so broken-hearted

I do think that Steve and Bucky were in love with each other before the war, but neither of them ever said anything - it being the 1940's I think Bucky would have a certain amount of internalized homophobia, and feel a need to play up a sort of "playboy" persona to push down his more honest and vulnerable feelings. He feels like everything he truly wants is bad for him

"Steal Smoked Fish"

Across a different bridge today Over the river and down Broadway Feels so good to have you here Some of you will be dead next year I see your destinies above you Like angels who don't love you Let them kiss you and hold you tight As long as the money's right God bless all my old friends And god bless me too, why pretend? Feast when you can And dream when there's nothing to feast on God bless the guys from my old neighborhood Gone past the point where any blessings can do them any good Attach the C-4 where you must Disappear in a cloud of dust But spare a thought for what it covers up Pour a triple and raise your cup We were here once, me and my friends But we destroyed all of the evidence And vanished into the night At least we got that one right

As the war moves on Bucky watches all of the young men he grew up with go to Europe and die - he knows that he will likely soon be drafted, but theres nothing he can do.

Section Two : 32557038

This section is about the time Bucky spends on the front lines - as well as imprisoned by Zola.

"Jesus and Your Living Room Floor"

And tell them I was loved That you always loved me I know you didn't But spare them the vision Of me in my kitchen Six weeks past extinction Photo in my hands that are cold as your mother's Of two children laughing before they got gutted And now they're a crime scene They're proof of a story A story I sell page by page, door to door, I pledge allegiance to Jesus, Jesus and your living room floor Now every night, I dream of new answers Of crying in limousines, of faking brain cancer Please tell them I was eaten by monsters in caves That they spat up my bones and I could not be saved And tell them you're so happy that you got to know me I know you didn't, but it's better than showing me Covered in ants in my room on the floor Still clutching that same old plastic horse

When Bucky thinks of home he thinks of being a child and sleeping on the floor beside Steve - in the many moments during the war where he expects to die, he thinks of that time at home. All the while still not knowing what he means to Steve.

"Beautiful Gas Mask"

Come hard through the fog Blindfolded and bound 'Till we stand at the edge Of a hole in the ground Crash in from deep space Shot birds falling fast Who will be there to catch us in his jaws When we arrive, alive at last? I can't hear you in the dark Wish I knew where you'd gone Know you're there, off in the shadows somewhere Try to soldier on Never sleep, remember to breathe deep Never sleep, remember to breathe Breathe deep and breathe humbly Secure your mouthpiece when you can

This one I feel is fairly self explanatory - the fear and pain of the soldier.

"Gut-Shot Soldier"

i silently wander through what remains and feel the chill of a light ashen rain beautiful boy peace has released you from grief and joy gut shot soldier no one hears you when you fall gut shot soldier you remain nameless after all precious boy in a tattered costume stitched from the remains of ancient countries and ancient warriors unknown and unnamed gut shot soldier no one hears you when you fall gut shot soldier you remain nameless after all

Trying to keep hold of himself while experimented on by Zola, trying to pick up the pieces of himself, and of his joy, and what he thinks is real once Steve comes and saves him.

Section Three : Bucky Alone At The Bar

Bucky recovers in London, but he is soon asked to follow Steve once again into the war, and he will. But Steve has changed, and Bucky needs Steve to see that he has changed just as much.

"The Prettiest Star"

Cold fire, you've got everything but cold fire You will be my rest and peace child I moved up to take a place near you So tired, it's the sky that makes you feel tried It's a trick to make you see wide It can all but break your heart in pieces Staying back in your memory Are the movies in the past How you moved is all it takes To sing a song of when I loved The prettiest star One day though it might as well be someday You and I will rise up all the way All because of what you are The prettiest star

Bucky will always love Steve, no matter what changes, but Bucky also can't stop hurting.

"Stuck In The Past"

I don't know what that arrangement was I could never tell But you could I had hopes, but the hopes all fell Leveled with the smell of new wood Stuck in the past A planet only on paper Guess I'm the last A living memory of vapor I don't know what that arrangement was I could never tell Like you could I had hopes, but that's just because Hoping was a well Where you stood

Bucky is both happy for Steve, and wants so desperately to be strong enough to take care of him again - rather than the other way around. He feels like he's being left behind.

Section Four: Flying/Falling

Bucky should never have been on that train - but he had to. So now he is seeing the view from halfway down.

"Under Ice"

It's wonderful Everywhere, so white The river has frozen over Not a soul on the ice Only me Skating fast I'm speeding past trees Leaving little lines in the ice Cutting out Little lines In the ice Splitting, splitting sound Silver heels Spitting, spitting snow There's something moving under Under the ice

I don't think I need to explain this one.

"In Germany Before The War"

In Germany Before The War There was a man who owned a store In nineteen hundred thirty-four In Dusseldorf And every night at fine-o-nine He'd cross the park down to the Rhine And he'd sit there by the shore Reflected in his glasses As he watches her A little girl has lost her way With hair of gold and eyes of gray I'm looking at the river But I'm thinking of the sea Thinking of the sea Thinking of the sea We lie beneath the autumn sky My little golden girl and I And she lies very still

This song is what I imagine his mind sounded like as his vision went black - Russian soldiers standing over him, laying in the snow.

Act Two

Section One: The Red Room

The second act begins between the first and second Captain America movies - during the mid-to-late 20th century when Bucky was being held/trained by the Red Room and later by Hydra.

"Red Football"

I'm not no red football To be kicked around the garden No no I'm a red Christmas-tree ball And I'm fragile I'm not no animal Though I am to you I'm not no crocodile Like the one in Dublin Zoo Who lived in a cage The length and breadth of his body When a window which people would look through And throw coins on his back to taunt him Though he couldn't move Even if he wanted to I'm not no animal in the zoo I'm not no whipping boy for you You may not treat me like you do I'm not no animal in the zoo My skin is not a football for you My head is not a football for you My body's not a football for you My womb is not a football for you My heart is not a football for you I'm not no animal in the zoo This animal will jump up and eat you

It is the early days, Bucky still remembers his name, he still has fight left in him.

"Search and Destroy"

I'm a street-walking cheetah With a heart full of napalm I'm a runaway son of the nuclear A-bomb I am a world's forgotten boy The one who searches and destroys Honey, gotta help me, please Somebody gotta save my soul

The missions begin, he is becoming the Winter Soldier - but he can still feel that this is wrong, and he sometimes can remember why.

"Relay"

I resent you for being raised right I resent you for being tall I resent you for never getting any opposition at all I resent you for having each other I resent you for being so sure I resent you presenting your life like a fucking propaganda brochure And I see that you keep trying to bait me And I'd love to get up in your face But I know it if I hate you for hating me I will have entered the endless race Evil is a relay sport When the one who's burned Turns to pass the torch I'm sorry Evil is a relay sport When the one who's burned Turns to pass the torch Wipe it all away I used to go to the Ferris wheel every morning Just to throw my anger out the door

The few hints of memory he has of his old life only result in anger and confusion - they can no longer fuel him, and no longer bring him hope. Somewhere deep in his subconscious he remembers Steve, and he resents him. The torture and brainwashing from Hydra and the Red Room have done their job.

"Daffodil"

I'm not bad, I'm not good I drank every scar that I could Made myself mythical, tried to be real Saw the future in the face of a Daffodil You practice resurrection every night Raising the dead under the moonlight And in the gloaming, I start to cry You're a perfect pearl hung in the sky There is no bad, there is no good I drank all the blood that I could Made myself mythical, tried to be real Saw the future in the face of a Daffodil English sun, she has come To kiss my face and tell me I'm that chosen one A generation soaked in grief We're drying out and hanging on by the skin of our teeth

This song Bucky sings about Pierce. Bucky is gone, all that is left is the Asset. Between the wipes, the only person he has memory of is Pierce, and he clings to that like a lifeline. Pierce tells him when to eat, sleep, kill, forget, and when to go back to the ice. He would do anything to keep Pierce happy with him, to keep the one thing which remains constant.

Section Two: Mission Report

This section begins where "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" begins. The Winter Soldier is a myth known to very few. The Asset can feel his bones getting tired. The endless cycles of torture and killing have become monotonous.

"The Autopsy Garland"

One clear shot or else he gets away Red sun high in the sky tonight Look west from London down to old Hollywood Remember the first days in California You don't want to see these guys Without their masks on You don't want to see these guys Without their masks on Fat rich men love their twelve year olds Deco cuff links and cognac by the glass Look west from London toward the Emerald City Remember Minnesota You don't want to see these guys Without their masks on You don't want to see these guys Without their masks on, or their gloves

All of his short term memories blur together - whether it's a mission, a reboot, or an inspection by Hydra officials.

"Smoking Section"

Sometimes I sit in the smoking section Hopin' one rogue spark land in my direction And when you stomp me out, I scream and I'll shout "Let it happen, let it happen, let it happen" And sometimes I feel like an inland ocean Too big to be a lake, too small to be an attraction And when you wander in and start to flail a bit I let it happen, let it happen, let it happen Sometimes I stand with a pistol in a hand I fire at the grass just to scare you right back And when you won't run, I'm mad, but I succumb Let it happen, let it happen, let it happen Sometimes I go to the edge of my roof And I think I'll jump just to punish you And if I should float on the taxis below No one will notice, no one will know

The Asset gave up on trying to kill itself years ago, but sometimes it still feels the pull.

"You Feel So Lonely You Could Die"

No-one ever saw you Moving through the dark Leaving slips of paper Somewhere in the park And I'm gonna tell Yes I've gotta tell Gotta tell the things you've said When you're talking in the dark And I'm gonna tell the things you've done When you're walking through the park Some night on the thriller's street Will come the silent gun You've got a dangerous heart You stole their trust, their moon, their sun There'll come assassin's needle On a crowded train I'll bet you feel so lonely You could die Buildings crammed with people Landscape filled with wrath Grey concrete city Rain has wet the street I want to see you clearly Before you close the door A room of bloody history You made sure of that I can see you as a corpse Hanging from a beam I can read you like a book I can feel you falling I hear you moaning in your room Oh see if I care Oh please, please make it soon Walls have got you cornered You've got the blues my friend And people don't like you But you will leave without a sound, without an end Oblivion shall own you Death alone shall love you I hope you feel so lonely You could die

Something he would sing to himself, somewhere deep in the back of his mind.

Section Three: The Man On The Bridge

The Asset sees someone, who calls him by a strange name. He does not know why - but something inside him feels familiar.

"Prayer Factory"

All the things that I ran from I now bring as close to me as I can Ripping hotel sheets with gritted teeth My montage of lost things My shiny trinkets of grief Why don't you give me a call? Open my mouth, yes, I'll take it all All this work gone to waste You make me climb, then you shut the gate

The brief moments of panic when he realizes he is feeling something - he isn't supposed to do that.

"Shoulders"

Please wake up Please wake up Touch my skin and tell me where you been You brought me in My best friend So touch my skin and tell me where you been You showed me how To hold my sin And kiss the bad ways I have been They found you in the morning The blood was on your shoulders They found you at the corner Your head was doubled over And the blood of the man who's killing our mother with his hands Is in me It's in me In my veins

This is an old ache, he doesn't know when it started or why this stranger triggered it - but he knows this is not the first time he has felt this way.

"Fight Like Gods"

What happens when the dream is better than the waking? What happens when we don't dread our own body breaking? From our bed we can see the dark clouds start to seeth right above us And my stare is hard and my grip on the knife tightens You doubt and you're desperate, you wear both your cross and your hammer Such beautiful dreams of violence, in them your tongue is made of silver But we don't fight like animals, we fight like men No, we don't fight like men, we fight like Gods

All he wants is for this feeling to go away, this man to go away, who is making him falter in his mission because somehow, somewhere in his mind he feels the need to spare him - to go to him. But, he is his mission, so instead they fight.

Section Four: "But I Knew Him"

Deep in the Asset's mind, there is Bucky. And Bucky Remembers.

"How Does The Grass Grow"

Would you still love me If the clocks could go backwards The girls would fill with blood and The grass would be green again Remember the dead They were so great Some of them But I lived a blind life A white face in prison But you made a life out of nothing Now I ride my black horse I miss you more Than you'll ever ever know Waiting with my red eyes And my stone heart I gaze in defeat At the stars in the night The light in my life burnt away Where do the boys lie Mud mud mud How does the grass grow Blood blood blood

There is no way to fix or change what has been done, what the Asset has done, the part of him that is still Bucky knows this - but still battles with the Asset to try and get free - Steve is so close, but so far.

"I Am Stretched On Your Grave"

My apple tree my brightness It's time we were together For I smell of the earth And am worn by the weather When my family thinks That I'm safe in my bed From night until morning I am stretched at your head Calling out to the air With tears hot and wild My grief for the girl That I loved as a child Do you remember The night we were lost In the shade of the blackthorn And the chill of the frost Thanks be to Jesus We did what was right And your maiden head still Is your pillar of light

Bucky had been told by the Russians that Steve had died when he crashed in the ice, and a piece of that grief always stayed in his mind even if he - The Asset - didn't know where it came from. Now Bucky is standing in front of Steve, and he regrets the fear he had as a young man - he regrets never telling Steve he loved him. Because the two people standing in front of each other now are two very different people from the ones who fell asleep next to each other on the living room floor.

"Morning Elvis"

When they dressed me and they put me on a plane to Memphis, well I never got to see Elvis I just sweated it out in a hotel room But I think the king would have understood Why I never made it to Graceland The bathroom tiles were cool against my hand I pressed my forehead to the floor and prayed for a trapdoor I've been here many times before But I've never made it to Graceland Well, pick me up in New Orleans Pinned in a bathroom stall Pick me up above my body Press my corpse against the wall I told the band to leave without me I'll get the next flight And I'll see you all with Elvis If I don't survive the night If I make it to the mornin' I should've come with a warnin' And if I make it to the stage I'll show you what it means To be saved Oh, you know I'm still afraid I'm still crazy and I'm still scared But if I make it to the stage I'll show you what it means To be spared

(I read this song as using "seeing Elvis" and "going to Graceland" as metaphors for dying, not to be taken literally) He has died again and again, and he has always come back swinging, as Steve saves him once again - he wishes his mind could stay quiet, for just a little longer.

Section Five: Fighting, Falling, Running

"This Is The Sea"

Now you say you've got trouble You say you've got pain You say've got nothing left to believe in Nothing to hold on to Nothing to trust Nothing but chains You've been scouring your conscience Raking through your memories Scouring your conscience Raking through your memories But that was the river This is the sea Now I can see you wavering As you try to decide You've got a war in your head And it's tearing you up inside You're trying to make sense Of something that you just don't see Trying to make sense now And you know you once held the key But that was the river And this is the sea

The Asset's resolve is crumbling under the weight of Steve's voice.

"★"

Something happened on the day he died Spirit rose a metre and stepped aside Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried "I'm a blackstar, I'm a blackstar." How many times does an angel fall? How many people lie instead of talking tall? He trod on sacred ground, he cried loud into the crowd "I'm a blackstar, I'm a blackstar, I'm not a gang star." I can't answer why (I'm a blackstar) Just go with me (I'm not a film star) I'mma take you home (I'm a blackstar) Take your passport and shoes (I'm not a pop star) And your sedatives, boo (I'm a blackstar) You're the flash in the pan (I'm not a marvel star) I'm the great I AM (I'm a blackstar)

Bucky breaks through.

"Free"

Sometimes I wonder if I should be medicated If I would feel better just lightly sedated The feeling comes so fast and I cannot control it I'm on fire, but I'm trying not to show it As it picks me up, puts me down It picks me up, puts me down Picks me up, puts me down a hundred times a day It picks me up, puts me down Chews me up, spits me out Picks me up and puts me down I'm always running from something I push it back, but it keeps on coming But I hear the music I feel the beat And for a moment When I'm dancing I am free Is this how it is? Is this how it's always been? To exist in the face of suffering and death And somehow still keep singing? Oh, like Christ up on a cross Who died for us, who died for what? Oh, don't you wanna call it off? But there is nothing else that I know how to do But to open up my arms and give it all to you 'Cause I hear the music I feel the beat And for a moment When I'm dancing I am free

Bucky begins to pick up and piece together his history and his mind. Healing will not come easy - but he is free.

End

if you've read this far - heres a cookie

🍪

[violetmuses]

Versus - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Title: Versus - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Following the death of Isabel Aretas, Armando crosses paths with you again.

Versus - Part I 🖤

Tag List: @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky 🏷

=======

2024

Unexpected knocking rattled against the front door of your home this evening and you scrambled to cover up, not relaxing yet.

Your RING camera signaled two famous men who stood on the porch right now:

Your own comrade from the Miami Police Department, Detective Mike Lowrey, joined his longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett.

“What the hell, Mike?” Opening their entrance, you welcomed both friends inside and shut the front door. There's just no other choice.

“I'm really sorry for bothering you like this, but it's an emergency.” Mike hardly sat down.

Intelligence agencies whispered that late Miami Captain Conrad Howard muddled with the cartel for years.

Who knows what could happen if garbage ruined Cap’s legacy now?

“What happened? I've heard some things about Captain…” You trailed.

“Marcus and I can prove that Cap is innocent, but…” Mike paused when your RING Camera signaled again.

You didn't recognize the stranger who joined this doorstep, at least not yet.

Wearing this Bud Light shirt, the man chose one trucker hat which veiled his eyes. Jeans covered both legs and boots or sneakers walked along.

“Mike, do you know who's waiting at the door right now?” You questioned Lowrey just in case.

“Shit!” Mike cursed as an immediate response tonight.

Even Marcus stopped playing around and cringed silently for once.

“What's going on?” You arched your brow toward Mike, puzzled.

“That's Arman…” Mike hardly finished speaking before you exposed one of your firearms upon realization.

“We need Armando for the case, all right?” Mike wanted control. “Put your gun down.”

“Mike…” You wouldn't listen. “Bring him in here. I dare you!”

“We need him and he's my son.” Mike revealed brand-new info this time around.

“Your…” Your voice whispered as Mike disarmed you regardless.

“Let Armando through.” Mike eased. “We can't solve this case without his help.”

“Fine.” You accepted reality.

After closing both eyes, you walk back to this front door and view the presence of your enemy: Armando Aretas.

Tension burns in that living room when you shut the door again and silence nearly drowns all four of you.

_____

“AMMO couldn't help?” You offered that question to Mike while everyone looked through files.

“Dorn referred us near you.” Mike acknowledged one of the department's tech geniuses. “Armando can identify whoever framed Cap.”

“Just promise me something. ” You continued working.

"Yeah?" Mike asked you.

“When the team finds this monster, kill him.” You don't make eye contact with Lowrey. “No more dark headlines."

“Deal.” Mike nodded toward you just when Armando pulled another flash drive.

The silent trade is quick and you load material on this computer once more.

“It's him.” Armando observed this grayscale picture of one man with bright hair, confirming.

“You sure?” Mike glanced toward his son and checked.

“That's who ordered the hit.” Aretas spoke up again.

“James McGrath: Former Army Ranger turned DEA agent. Tortured before joining the cartel himself.” You detailed highlights of McGrath’s own criminal history.

“That's it. We got a name.” Mike took charge while speaking to Armando and Marcus. “Let's reconvene in the morning with a plan and get outta here.”

“Plenty of room.” You say, shutting down work for good.

______

“Thank you.” By morning, Mike, Marcus and Armando would leave your home while sporting tactical uniforms.

“Of course.” You nodded to Mike and Marcus, but Armando paused at the front door, looking in your direction.

“I'm sorr…” Both of you struggled with the much-needed apology.

This mutual grudge needed to fade out because life called so much more than pain.

Watching Armando leave, your heart shattered.