#and then fools gold for fucks sake

[sk8rambler]

me when stone roses

[bitchesuntitled]

Broken Hearts Mended

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader, Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Minors, get out! Language(at this rate, just expect it. That's just me), Pregnancy, Dieter trying to fix his past, sad!Dieter, dad!Dieter, smut, pinv, oral(m!recieving), wedding crasher!Dieter, TIME TRAVEL, OFC

a/n: This is for the Roll-A-Trope Challenge by @burntheedges I got Time Travel! Never dabbled with that before but it was fun and sheesh, Kate- this is the longest story I've ever written! This could be considered a part two of Some Broken Hearts Never Mend but can be read as a standalone! The OFC is based off my bestie IRL @hessofather - thank you for being you, for helping me with the witchy stuff, and love ya bitch! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jay-zzle(for the moodboard &) for your eyes on this one! Love you both!

Masterlist||AO3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He’d been staring at the clock for an eternity or what felt like an eternity. Today was the day, the day Dieter’s been dreading since he found out. 

Today is your wedding day.

In typical Hollywood fashion, a friend of a friend let it slip when the wedding was. Saturday afternoon, 3 pm to be exact. Mark was supposed to be on standby to ensure Dieter stayed at home today and didn’t do something stupid, but what Mark didn’t expect was to be locked in the pantry with Dieter sitting outside.

“Dieter, come on man,” Mark pleaded, “Think about this before you do something dumb.”

“Would it really be that bad if I went?!”

“Yes,” Mark sighed, “Dieter, you need to let her go. If you go to that hotel all that will happen is you make a fool of yourself and embarrass her!”

“Embarrass her?!” Dieter scoffs, looking at the closed door with offense. “I got sober for fucks sake! For her and she didn’t even let me see my kid! Instead that bastard is playing daddy to my Lexi! My peanut!”

“Dieter!” Mark shouts, slamming his fists against the door, “Let me out and let’s talk face-to-face about this.”

“Sheesh Mark, calm down,” Dieter says, glancing at the clock, “If I go, maybe she’ll see me and remember how much she loved me. I gotta try right?”

“Dieter, please,” Mark sighs, “Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea.”

“I have to try, Mark.”

“Damn it, Dieter!”

More punches are being thrown at the pantry door as Dieter slowly backs away from it.

“If I don’t try now, I’m just going to spend the rest of my life wondering what if!” Dieter shouts, “Mark, you gotta understand that man.”

—

Dieter was able to bribe a waiter into letting him in through the kitchen, he had tried the front but the hotel staff quickly guided him right back through the front door. The place was gorgeous, decked in all navy blue, gold, and white, and the flower petals spread down the aisle he stood in front of. Joel is standing next to the officiant, fiddling with the gold cufflinks on his wrists. The bridal song began and everyone looked back at Dieter.

He stood there frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard the door behind him open, he turned slowly. There you were, standing before him in a gorgeous flowy white gown.

“Dieter?” You asked, confusion painted across your face before it turned into a silent rage.

“I- I need-“ he began, trying to think of what to say.

“Jesus Christ,” your father muttered under his breath before shouting for security.

“Wait-“ Dieter gasped, as two men in suits grabbed his arms pulling him towards the hall, “Please! Let me just ha-“

“Wait!,” you shout panicked, before clearing your throat, “Sorry everyone,” you announce, “Let me just take care of this real quick then we’ll be ready to get this wedding started.”

Dieter was dumbfounded. You were actually going to listen to him. You wanted to hear what he had to say. He knew it! He still had a chance. You let go of your dad’s arm and looped it around Dieter’s, leading him out into the hallway with a polite reassuring smile to your guests.

In another life, this would be the way it went. You in your gorgeous wedding dress, walking down an aisle on his arm, smiling politely to your guests before he whisked you away to ravish you the entire night. Once the doors closed, you stepped away from him clearing your throat.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hiss, the rage in you tipping over its boiling point.

“I wanted to-“ he starts softly before you interrupt him again.

“Wanted what Dieter?!” You seethe, “Did you not feel it was enough when you showed up at my home? My work? Lexi’s fucking school?”

“I didn’t think-“ he winces, knowing immediately those are the wrong words with the laugh you let out.

“No Dieter, you didn’t fucking think,” you scoff, “You’ve spent the past six years not fucking thinking and it’s shown plenty!”

“Baby-“ Dieter tries again.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” You stop him, “Dieter, you need to leave. I’m marrying Joel and Lexi finally has a dad who wants her and loves her.”

“But I do love her,” Dieter says, tears blurring his vision, “That’s why I stayed away from you both. I love you both so much, I didn’t want you wrapped up in my shit and I’m trying to change!”

You shake your head with a sigh.

“You just have to give me another chance,” he whimpers, the tears steadily falling down his face.

“No,” you say quietly, “You’ve had enough chances.”

—

You were officially done with his shit and let him know he’d be hearing from your lawyers on Monday. His heart broken, his mind felt numb, and Dieter’s legs began to move. He felt like pins and needles were pricking all over his skin, trying to ignore the feeling, he began to speed up. He’d be fine as long as he kept moving. His chest felt like there was a weight on it, trying to catch his breath.

He needed to find somewhere with air conditioning, maybe it’s the heat finally getting to him. Standing outside a store called Vixen’s. Huh, he thought, a sex shop would be the perfect way to distract his mind. A dinging sound chimes as he enters the store.

“Good afternoon!” A cheery feminine voice calls out from the back, “I’ll be right with you.”

Dieter stood next to a counter, focusing on his breathing. The place smelled like sage, rose, and lavender. This was definitely not a sex shop. His hands held onto the counter in front of him as he closed his eyes and took in the sweet aroma of the shop. Whatever it was, it was working to help calm him down.

“Sir?” A feminine voice called out to him, “Ya alright?”

Dieter looked towards the voice to see a short woman with auburn hair standing next to a door that stated Employees Only. He gave a short nod, signaling he was okay. He just had to focus on his breathing.

“Fuck!” She gasped, flailing her hands in the air, “It’s you! C’mere!”

“Huh?” Dieter asked in confusion, trying to catch his breath.

“C’mere!” She said more sternly, motioning for him to follow her, “Been expectin’ you to show up any day now and you’re finally here!”

Dieter began to follow the stranger apprehensively down a hall, passing multiple doors, as she began to talk more.

“The names’ Willow Vixen. Now that you’re here, maybe I can finally stop using the rose.” She states, wrinkling her nose, “Not my favorite but that’s what the ball suggested for your arrival. Considering it doesn’t give me much of a time frame I figured fuck it and just started making sure it was around at all times.”

“Ball?” Dieter asks, his legs taking over, continuing to follow Willow until they meet a door that has her name on it, “I’m sorry but do I know you?”

“Not yet, Dieter,” Willow hums, grabbing a key ring from her belt loops, and unlocking the door, “When we get inside I’ll explain.”

Once she opened the door, he was hit with a powerful smell of sage and rosemary. She ushered him in, closing the door behind her.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to a table in the middle of the room.

He wasn’t sure what he was even doing here. Following a stranger into some back room of a store sounded like the beginnings of some ritual sacrifice and by the way her office was set up, it looked like it, too.

The room was dim before Willow fluttered about lighting candles while humming, beginning to shed more light on her space. He could see a table covered in an emerald green cloth with four chairs surrounding it, and a crystal ball sat upon a perch in the middle of it with dozens of candles surrounding it.

“So… uh,” Dieter hesitates, hands scrubbing through his hair. The fuck is he doing here? He should leave. Willow continues to hum while she lights more candles by a thick open book sitting on a desk, flipping through the pages before she stops.

“Ah-ha!” She announces with a joyous clap, “Would ya look at that! Found it on the first try.”

She looks up to see Dieter still standing by the door with a nervous energy about him.

“Gah damn it, Dieter,” she grumbles, approaching him, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. I’m here to help ya. Now go on, sit,” Ushering him to the table, lightly patting him on the shoulders, “Let me just get a few more things ready before I truly start this process, alright?”

“Help me?” He asks, watching Willow move in the space around them. She grabbed a bottle and began spritzing it around the chair he sat in.

“Duh, I told ya,” Willow said with a raised eyebrow smirking, “Oh wait, maybe I didn’t? Did I?”

Dieter looked at her in bewilderment, continuing to watch as she placed the spray bottle of liquid beside him and grabbed incense instead, placing them in their holders and lit them.

“T- tell me what?” He asked nervously, placing his hands in his lap and beginning to fidget with his fingers.

“My apologies, sir.” Willow bows, “I am a witch! Well, kind of a-a witch. I’m a witch practicin’. My great great great great grandma was one and it kinda skipped a generation or two cause my folks decided we should follow Jesus instead. Ya in any sort of religion? I’ve been involved with… too many.”

Dieter shakes his head. Fuck, this is how it ends, he was right. She’s gonna sacrifice him.

“I’m spraying lavender right now to try and get your ass to calm down,” she states matter of factly picking the bottle up again, Dieter flinches when she sprays some directly onto his hair, “Your energy is thick with nerves. Now what was I sayin’?” She asked, stopping in place and staring at the table cloth.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I have a disorder where my memory ain’t the best. Think Dory from Findin’ Nemo,” Willow smiles brightly, “I’m a witch and this here crystal ball-” she taps a finger against the clear ball in the middle of the table, “-showed me to be expectin’ ya.”

“Sh-showed you?” Dieter asks, cocking his head to the side with wide eyes.

“Yeah!” Willow exclaims, “Showed me you comin’ here, us doing some magic and then you fuckin’ off to whatever it is you’re tryin’ to change!”

“Wait,” Dieter stops, eyes widening, “What am I changing?”

“Beats me,” Willow shrugs, fanning the incense around before plopping down in the chair across from him, “Alls I know is I’m supposed to help ya get there.”

Dieter looks at her and then the ball in between them. It starts sparkling inside as the clear crystal becomes dense with a weird purple fog, swirling around the inside of the crystal.

“Oh shit! It’s doin’ the thing again!” Willow shrieks in excitement, bouncing in her chair, “I told ya the thing showed me what I needed to do! Maybe it’s trying to show you what you need to do.”

Dieter stares at the ball before the swirling fog reveals you lying in your shared bed years ago. He remembers this morning clear as day, it’s the morning before he went to that stupid party and relapsed.

“It’s her,” he chokes back a sob, “What kind of sick fucking trick is this?!”

“It’s not a trick!” Willow protests, “I’m tellin’ the truth! Just watch the damn thing!”

Dieter continues watching the fog swirl within the ball, seeing himself join you in bed. Dieter perks up as he watches himself undress you and begin worshiping you like the goddess you are. Willow clears her throat turning her head.

“Ope,” she murmurs, cheeks becoming flaming red, peering at the ceiling out of privacy, “Don’t think I’m supposed to watch this bit.”

Dieter is entranced, watching the two of you, reliving that entire day. Except in this version he never leaves the house, he stays home with you instead. That’s what he should have done, stay home and hang out with you instead of go to that stupid fucking party.

The purple fog disappears and the crystal becomes clear again, leaving Dieter even more confused.

“Wait!” He shouts, gripping the ball with both hands, “Come back! Show me more!”

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Willow scolds, pushing his hands off the ball, “Don’t break my damn ball. It’s the only one I got.”

“But I want to see more,” Dieter lets out a pathetic whine, “How can I see more. Make it show me!” He demands.

“Not how it works, bub,” Willow huffs, “But, from the looks of it that’s where the ball wants me to send you.”

“S-s-send me?” Dieter stutters out with a scoff, “How are you gonna send me back to the happiest time of my life?”

“Time travel, duh,” Willow snorts, “The hell do you think you showed up here for?”

He looks at her with bewilderment. How the fuck is this girl supposed to help him go backwards in time?

“Now, now,” Willow says, clicking her tongue in annoyance, “I recognize that look. Ya don’t believe me,” she adds with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve got everything ready.”

She stands making her way to a small tea kettle, filling it with water from a jug before placing it on her desk beside the book. Willow moves through her office with a practiced ease, opening and closing cabinets, grabbing the things she’ll need for this ritual. Taking one last glance at the book on her desk before clearing her throat.

“Now, I’m gonna brew this tea for you to drink. It’s got some cloves, rosemary, garlic and cinnamon in it,” she explains, plunking and sprinkling the herbs in the kettle, “Oh shit!” She laughs, opening a desk drawer to pull out a small hot plate, “Ain’t gonna get very far without boilin’ it.”

Dieter watches as she softly hums, flitting about the room as the tea gets ready.

“Now, I got white sage and mullein burning already,” Willow explains pointing at each, “Helps with clarity.”

He nods, still confused and a little scared. He has no clue how this is supposed to actually work. Time travel isn’t real, this isn’t some movie like Back to the Future. Although, he thinks tilting his head, would be pretty cool to drive the DeLorean. His thoughts are interrupted by Willow chanting something over the tea right as the kettle lets out a shrill whistle. Willow pours the tea into a little cup bringing it over to the table, placing it in front of Dieter.

“Ain’t gonna lie to ya,” Willow grimaces, “Probably gonna be nasty as fuck with the herbs I had to use but it’s what the book said to use.”

“Probably not the worst thing I’ve ever ingested,” Dieter shrugs, “So how’s this work? Do I just drink it?”

Willow nods, “I said the spell, I have the scents going, all you have to do is keep an open mind,” she continues with a smile.

Dieter nods, staring at the cup. What’s the worst that could happen? His life is already fucked. At least he can say he tried if it doesn’t work, grabbing the cup and downing the drink. Willow was right- it’s rancid, he begins to cough placing the cup back on the table.

“Now what?” Dieter asks with a grimace, glancing at Willow.

“Now,” a grin spreads across her face, “We wait.”

- - -

The sun’s rays shone through the curtains causing Dieter to wince as he woke the next morning. How was he supposed to know if the ritual worked? Willow said they just had to wait. Wait for what though? Hearing a soft groan next to him he peeked one eye open at the sound, looking around he noticed this wasn’t his room. Well, more so not his room anymore. The soft yellow walls and white curtains had all been replaced after you left with dark grays.

Glancing next to him, he felt like his heart stopped. There you were, snoring softly next to him. Maybe he was dreaming and his mind decided to torture him, it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened but then you reached for him. Your hand laying on his chest above his heart. Dieter didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, shout with joy or all three at the same time. His palm reaches out, gently touching your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to your sleeping form as he rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb, “I was such a fucking idiot.”

You crinkle your nose and let out a huff as you sleep. A grin plastered across his face, he can’t believe it actually worked. If he ever sees Willow again he’s going to have to thank her. She may not know what for, with traveling back in time, but he’ll thank her anyway. 

“You’re staring,” you let out a sleepy grumble.

“Can’t help it,” Dieter whispers, grinning like an idiot. You open an eye to look at him, raising your brows.

“Why are we whispering?” You giggle, scooting closer to lay your head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heartbeat.

Dieter takes a deep breath into your hair, shrugging his shoulders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. Afraid if he loosens his grip you’ll be gone again. His hands begin to roam under your shirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the roundness of your belly. You’re still pregnant, grinning to himself as he sits up and moves you to lay on your back, rubbing his hands down to your hips. You’d always complained of them hurting with the added weight of Peanut, their little Lexi who would be coming into this world.

“Mmm,” you let out a soft moan, as his hands gingerly massage your hips, your fingers digging into his thigh, “Dieter.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, unable to believe this is actually happening again. Being with you, being back in your shared home, being here during the happiest time of his life. Dieter leans over your belly, pulling up your shirt to expose your bump, placing a soft kiss there.

“I love you,” he breathes out, his voice cracking before trying to get a grip on his emotions. 

“Babe?” You ask, concern lacing your voice as you reach for him, “What’s wrong?”

“Missed you,” he says, kissing your bump again, “Both of you.”

“Babe,” you laugh, “All we did was go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Dieter huffs, rolling his eyes, “Just went to sleep,” he hums, lifting your shirt more to uncover your breasts, his lips placing a trail of open mouthed kisses until he meets one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a soft hiss as your fingers tangle in the soft waves of his hair. There’s one thing Dieter knows he can’t fuck up, sex. He’ll figure the rest out later.

You moan as he spends equal time on each of your breasts, sliding a hand down your front into your underwear. Dieter lets out a groan when he feels the wetness already collected there. He needs this, to you it was yesterday, to him it’s been six years since he’s felt you around his cock.

“I need you,” Dieter grunts, pushing you on your side, flopping down behind you and pushing his boxers down. His stiff member pushing into your ass.

“Jesus, Dee,” you giggle as he quickly pushes your underwear down enough to get to your core, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’t,” he whispers into your neck, slipping his length between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Dieter grips his dick, slowly pushing into you, simultaneous moans spilling from both of you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder, “So fucking big.”

Dieter pants, feeling your walls constrict around him, stopping himself when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. He doesn’t want this to end before it’s even begun.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Missed this.”

“Dieter,” you pant, hips squirming against him, “I need you to move, baby.”

He nods against your head, slowly pulling out, his tongue laving against your pulse point as he sharply pushes back in.

“Fuck,” you cry out, gripping his hand tighter. He knows it’s your favorite so he keeps the same rhythm, pulling out slowly before plunging back in. He can’t stop the words flowing from his mouth as he thrusts into you. His pace grows quicker as he speaks.

“Please don’t leave me,”

“I need you,”

“I love you,”

“I won’t fuck up again,”

“I promise,”

“I love you.”

Every phrase punctuated with a sharp thrust into your wet heat, producing a moan from your lips.

“Dieter,” you moan, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna-“

Dieter can feel the fluttering of your walls, gripping you tighter he moves faster, unable to control himself any longer.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans, “Look at me, baby.”

Your head lolling against his shoulder as his hips snap into you, he grips your face turning you to face him. Slotting his lips over yours, smothering your cries as your orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dieter grunts, grinding his hips into you as your walls constrict around him, warm ropes of his come painting your insides. He kisses you softly while both of you try to catch your breath.

“You okay?” You ask, eyes gazing up at him.

Dieter nods, keeping his arms wrapped around you.

“Bad dream,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I’m sorry babe,” you give him a sympathetic smile, giving him a quick kiss before moving off of him with a hiss, “Wanna go look at stuff for the nursery?”

“Hmm,” Dieter hums, wrapping his arms around you again before you can leave the bed, “Let’s stay in bed all day.”

“We just woke up,” you squeak out with a giggle, as he pulls you back against him, “Already need a nap?”

“After that workout?” He laughs, kissing your neck, “Uh… yeah!”

Dieter’s eyelids are heavy. He felt calm, more at peace than he has been for years, having you back in arms, the comforting weight of you next to him. The hint of your perfume surrounding him, causing him to quickly drift back to sleep.

- - -

“Dieter wake up!” Mark shouts, “Time to go.”

Dieter jumps, how long had he been asleep? The room is dark as Mark flings the gray curtains open allowing the sun to burst in.

“What the fuck?” Dieter groans, covering his face with the pillow next to him, blocking the sun from his eyes. His sleep-addled brain hasn’t registered what’s happened.

“Come on, man,” Mark says more sternly, grabbing the covers to pull off of Dieter, “Gotta get Peanut.”

“Peanut?” Dieter asks, flipping the pillow off his face, sitting up taking in his surroundings, “No, no, no. This isn’t right.”

He looks around at the gray bedding, the curtains, the walls. Where’s your house? He was just there, wasn’t he? Was it just a dream after all?

“Yes. Peanut,” Mark says, giving him a confused look, “Lexi, Your daughter.”

“I know who Peanut is, Mark.” Dieter snaps, “But she won’t let me see her.”

“Dieter,” Mark scolds, “Do not tell me you've been using again.”

“What? No!”

“You’ve had your daughter every other week for years now.” Mark explains, “Are you sure you're not using anything?”

“You mean, I have custody?” Dieter asks, beginning to choke up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

Whatever Willow did, it worked, well kind of. If Dieter had some sort of custody of Lexi that means he must have changed something going back in time.

“I gotta go see Willow.”

“Willow?” Mark asks, shaking his head, “Dieter, you don’t have time to go on some wild goose chase looking for whoever it is you’re talking about.”

Dieter rushes out of bed, grabbing random clothes he finds throughout his room to throw on, running down the stairs to find his crocs.

“Dieter!” Mark shouts after him.

“I gotta fix it, Mark,” Dieter yells back, finding his car keys, and opening the front door, “I gotta fix it!”

—

“Willow!” Dieter bellows, bursting into Vixen’s, “It worked! It kind of worked!”

He hears a crash a couple aisles over and a gah-damnit!, before Willow appears at the front of the shop.

“The hell you comin’ in here yellin’ about?” Willow asks, rubbing the top of her head, “You made me drop a jar of Dragon’s blood on my damn head. I do not need any more feminine power right now!”

“Sorry,” Dieter chuckles, “I think we need to do the ritual again. I have custody!” 

“Custody?” Willow asks, confused.

“Custody of my kid, Willow!” Dieter says, gripping her shoulders giving her a little shake, “All I did was fall asleep, had a crazy vivid sex dream about my girl and now I have custody! I’ve never even met my daughter!”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Willow says, wiggling out of his grip, “Don’t touch me and I don’t wanna hear about your weird sex dreams but come on back.”

He follows her through the dark hall, to her office, the white sage and mullein is lit, the tea is brewed while Willow chants the magic words. He chugs it again. The warm liquid tingled in his throat as it went down.

“Not as bad the second time,” he sputters out through a cough, “Should you make extra so I can take it home?”

“Not how it works,” Willow chuckles, “Gonna have to come see me. Door will always be open.”

“I don’t understand how this is working at all,” Dieter admits, “All I did was go to sleep?”

“Maybe in your sleep is when you’re traveling,” Willow shrugs, “I won’t lie, I’m not sure how it works either. Remember, I’m new at this.”

—

Dieter leaves Vixen’s, feeling on top of the world as he makes his way to your house. He cannot believe he’s about to see his kid for the first time, well maybe not the first time but it is for this Dieter. He pulls up to the address he found saved into his phone under your name, taking a deep breath before getting out of his car.

He makes his way to the front door. It’s a different house than the last time he showed up, hoping you’d forgive him for running off and taking forever to get his shit together. Taking a deep breath he presses the doorbell, hearing the chime inside.

“Daddy!” He hears screeched from behind the door before it opens. A little girl looks up at him with wide brown eyes and soft curls.

“You came to get me!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand with both of her little ones and pulling him through the entrance.

“Y-yeah, I did,” Dieter murmurs, unable to stop staring at the back of her head. Her hair bounces with every step she takes as she continues babbling at him about something.

“Hey Dieter,” you smile at him from the couch with a book in your hand, “She’s been super excited for you to get her this week. Thank you again for keeping her an extra week.”

“Extra week?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot,” you groan, “Dee, you promised me you wouldn’t forget! This is super important! Joel’s taking me to meet his family.”

“Joel?” Dieter asks, clenching his jaw, fingers flexing of his free hand against his thigh. Of course, Joel is still present. 

You study his face, taking in the tension rolling off him in waves, putting your book down and getting off the couch.

“Peanut, baby,” you say in a sweet tone, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get your stuff ready so you can go have fun at Daddy’s?”

“Okay,” she chirps, climbing the steps to the second floor. Leaving the two of you alone.

“Dee?” You ask, approaching him, “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dieter lies with a nod of his head, “Just forgot you have plans next week.”

“Look,” you start, gripping his hand, “I know this whole thing is weird for you but I know one day you’re going to find someone to love,” Dieter’s thumb begins to rub against your fingers softly, noting the absence of a ring on your hand.

“You don’t get it,” Dieter scoffs, shaking his head, “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

“We tried Dieter,” you say, giving him a sympathetic smile, “We just aren’t meant to be.”

- - -

When he wakes next, Dieter is blinded by the brightness of the room, closing his eyes again, not ready to get up.

“Daddy,” a little voice says, poking his cheek with tiny fingers.

He groans feeling a weight on top of his chest. He can hear you humming softly downstairs in the kitchen, little fingers continue poking at his face trying to wake him.

“Peanut,” he chuckles, “Why are you poking my face?”

“Time to wake up!” She announces, standing up on chunky legs before plopping her butt back down. Dieter lets out a grunt before opening his eyes, spotting the soft yellow walls of the room. He can’t stop the smile forming on his face. He’s back to where he wants to be, this timeline seeming to be much better than the present.

“Come here,” Dieter playfully growls, tickling Lexi’s sides. Her high pitched squeals echoing throughout the house.

“Breakfast is ready!”

“Hear that Peanut?!” Dieter asks enthusiastically, “Momma made breakfast!”

“Breakfast!” Lexi shouts, throwing her arms up in the air, “I hungry!”

Dieter scoops her up as he gets out of bed, carrying the toddler with him down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Morning,” you hum, smiling at both of them, “The contractor was supposed to be here earlier but he overslept so said he’d be by soon.”

“Oh?” Dieter asks, setting Lexi down into her booster seat as if he’s done this every day, “Who’d we hire again?”

“Dieter, I swear,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, “You’d be so lost without me.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as he grabs the plates of food you had set out, giving one to Lexi and sitting down next to her to eat his own.

“It’s Miller Bros,” you huff, “And no, they’re not like the Mario Brothers from Nintendo,” you add after seeing Dieter’s head perk up. You always were good about knowing what was on his mind.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Dieter asks, stabbing his fork into the eggs, “Besides the contractor coming, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. The rest of the meal went on, the scraping of silverware against plates and random chatter from Lexi the only things to be heard. It was eerie how quiet you were, Dieter stared at you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. He can’t pinpoint what’s going on but he feels there is something different here. Lexi finishes her breakfast, scooting off her booster and running off to watch TV.

“Is everything okay?” Dieter asks, fidgeting with the fork in his hand, he can’t risk losing you but he needs to know the answer.

“No,” you admit quietly, “I just- I don’t know what to do anymore Dee.”

“What do you m-“ he tries, the doorbell chiming interrupting his sentence.

“That must be the contractor,” you sigh, “Wanna start the dishes while I get the door?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dieter nods, “Sure.”

He gathers the dishes, rinsing each item before putting them in the dishwasher, hearing you speak with the contractor.

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” the contractor says with a gruffness in his voice, “Would’a been here earlier but my idiot brother wrote the time down wrong.”

“No worries,” you reply in a cheery tone, “You deserve the extra sleep, you work so hard.”

Dieter hears a deep chuckle from the man and a thank you, you’re too kind darlin’. It makes his stomach twist, he knows who this is. Joel fucking Miller. Can he not escape this guy?

Dieter slams the dishwasher closed, pacing throughout the kitchen. In his present time, the man is there. Now in his supposed past the man shows up too?! He wishes he could call Willow but a quick google search shows that Vixen’s doesn’t exist just yet, groaning as he tosses his phone onto the counter. What is he supposed to do?

He sees through the doorway how you look at Joel, the sparkle in your eyes, the way you seem almost bashful as Joel continues to talk about the most mundane things. Dieter can’t help the idea that’s popped into his head as he makes his way to the couch, sitting with your shared daughter as she watches cartoons.

It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he suggested, he’s Dieter Bravo. He’s definitely said worse things in interviews. He continues watching the two of you, the slight smirk on Joel’s face, the shy smile gracing your own.

Maybe if you fucked Joel you’d get it out of your system.

Dieter sees the attraction to Joel, of course he does. He’s rough, burly, and has that southern charm about him. The way his shirt hugs his biceps, his jeans clinging to his thighs. Joel clears his throat and Dieter snaps his head up, finding Joel staring directly at him, having been caught ogling he can feel his face turning a shade darker. You smile at Dieter, covering your mouth while a giggle escapes your lips.

“I’m gonna get started on the bathroom,” Joel says, eyeing Dieter on the couch, “Don’t let me interrupt your morning, Hollywood,” he adds with a wink.

You make your way to the couch, curling into Dieter’s side.

“So,” you giggle, with that sparkle still in your eyes, “Joel, huh?”

“Joel,” Dieter smirks, wrapping his arm around you, nodding his head. He brings you closer to his side, kissing your temple, before he scoops Lexi into his other side, keeping both his girls close to him.

- - -

“Dieter,” Mark says, giving Dieter’s shoulder a shove, “Need to wake up, you’re home.”

“Home?” Dieter grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face, he feels metal on one of his fingers. Eyes popping open, he spots a band on his left hand. Married. He’s married?

“Yeah, home,” Mark chuckles, “And don’t worry. I took care of everything so the three of you could spend some time together for the next couple days.”

Dieter grins, saying your name out loud quizzically, he needs to make sure it worked this time. Mark nods, he gets to spend time with his girls. His girls. Dieter hops out of the car, grabbing the duffle bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for the ride Mark,” he hollers as he makes his way to his front door, shaking with nerves as he stands there. Taking a deep breath he opens the door to find the house covered in darkness, flipping on the light he takes in the room before him. Toys, books, and small shoes scattered around. His smile grows wider as he hears a noise from upstairs.

You must be upstairs waiting for him. Dieter sets his duffle bag down next to the door before flinging his crocs off on his way up the stairs. The door of the master bedroom is opened by a jar and he can hear grunts coming from within.

Fuck, Dieter thinks, manly grunts can only mean one thing.

He tiptoes to the door opening it more, seeing you naked on your knees before Joel. His thick cock in your mouth as you bob your head faster along his length.

“S’it baby,” Joel groans, throwing his head back as you take more of him down your throat, “So fucking good at that.”

You’re moaning as he grips your head, holding you on his cock.

“Fuck,” Dieter whispers, feeling his dick twitch with interest, watching you gag on Joel’s length. Joel’s head snaps towards the doorway.

“Ya just gonna stand there Hollywood or ya gon’ join?” Joel smirks, eyeing Dieter up and down, “We’ve missed you.”

You moan, pulling off Joel's cock with a soft pop, twisting your body to see Dieter.

“Hi baby,” you purr at him, “Glad that you’re home.”

Dieter stands there frozen, watching you stroke Joel’s shaft with a sly grin.

This present time is nice, Dieter thinks with a smirk on his face, I can live with this.

[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part III

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 1.9k++

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: near assault, bickering, mini(i think?) grovelling, tiny fluff and of course what else than angst.

P/S: Thank you so much for your support from previous chapters! At first, I didn't plan to make this a mini series at all, but here we are. Anyway, enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N wished that she could live up to her own expectations. That she would enjoy every second of this date. But who was she kidding?

How was she supposed to be present in the moment and savour the wonderful dinner or relish the breath-taking scene of glimmering city lights through the windows at their table, when all she could ever think of was Bucky?

Bucky.

Bucky.

That god damn son of a bitch, Bucky.

She felt suffocated by both anger and pain. Completely distracted by the thought of him.

"I can't do this." Y/N abruptly stood on her feet as she confessed her truth. She paced and paced, despite the voice of Daniel calling out her name from behind.

She could barely hear him, or maybe she shuts it down on purpose because she can't afford having more thoughts in her spiralling mind.

She only realized that she was out when the sound of the hustle bustle of the city invades her hearing. She stood still for a while, wondering if she let her feet takes her away, where will she ended up then.

Before she could walk away any further, she felt a grip on her arms, pulling her to the alleyway besides the building. It was surprisingly dark and eerie even with the lively lights of the city leaking through the ends of it.

Considering he was an agent of SHIELD, he does have a quick reflex when he managed to grab both of her wrists and pinned her to the wall.

Honestly, she wasn't completely oblivious at Daniel's physical advances throughout the night; hands hovering over her ass when he lead the way, fingers grazing her thighs through the slit of her dress.

They were subtle but still relentless.

"Just where the fuck do you think you're going?" Daniel seethed in her ears, his impatient breaths huffed in between her neck.

"Oh, for fuck sake." She sighed with a slight annoyance in her undertone. She was really tired of everything at this point. Especially when this fool who thought he could throw her around like a ragdoll.

Y/N managed to twist her hands free from his grasps as her knee raised towards his defenseless crotch. However, the hit never happened, as a familiar black and gold metal hand wrapped tightly around Daniel's neck.

In a split second, Bucky had Daniel up against the opposite wall, head slamming into the hard crooked bricks of the building. Loud cluttering sound of the empty steel cans echoed down the alleyway, almost drowning Daniel's strained groans.

Although Y/N was not able to see Bucky's face, but she could imagine the cold grim in his eyes when the grit of his voice growled, "Touch my girl again and you'll see what Hydra had made of me."

She averted her eyes down to the dark and murky color of the ground when a strike of pain ached within her chest.

She hates it when he acknowledged Hydra's label on him.

A weapon. A monster.

It's imbrute and dehumanizing.

Her view didn't change its imagery until a pair of black combat boots entered the picture. She lifted her gaze just to spat at her saviour, "I could've handled him myself."

Bucky's eyes soften as a proud smile appeared on his lips, "I know, doll."

Very contrast to his gentle expression, Y/N's face was rigid and irritated. Ironically, they were imitating each other's default guise.

Y/N rolled her eyes before pushing him aside and started to walk away, leaving Bucky alone in the dark alleyway. Though her attempt was unsuccessful when Bucky managed to grab a hold on her wrist, "Wait, y/n."

She halted but refused to look back, "No. So, can you let go of my hand now?" her hands bundled into fists as she try to hold back her wrath.

Though the sidewalk was not crowded with people, in fact it was nearly empty, however she didn't want to make a scene.

"Please, hear me out." Bucky pleaded.

At least, she tried to keep it in.

Y/N yanked her hand from his, "Why the fuck should I listen to you, Bucky?!" she snapped, eyes flashing with fury.

Bucky was honestly not prepared for this, he went here without thinking of a plan to coax her. He ran to her with a sole purpose of telling her the truth, and Y/N yelling at him is not helping his nervous wreck,  "Because..bec.."

Growing impatient to his hesitation, she fumed even more, "What?! Just what is it that you want from me Buck--"

And then all loud sounds of the roaring rage in her head suddenly fell into complete silence when she felt his lips on hers.

The sensory within her skin abruptly heighten, becoming sensitive to Bucky's contrasting touch on her cheeks; hot and cold in either side as he cupped her face in his palms.

His soft lips, his intoxicating scent, his desperate touch.

Everything was too overwhelming for her short-circuited brain to process an appropriate response; in fact any type of response.

So when she let her body go on auto-pilot she found herself leaning forward, craving for more of the delicious friction.

It was a short lived moment of deafening sound of her own beating heart thundering in joy and excitement before the noises of rationality came rushing back to her.

Y/N ripped herself away in complete shock and panic, "Wh--what" even she herself was lost for words.

What have she done?

She pushed Bucky harshly she shouted, "Why? Why did you--? Y-you have a girlfriend, Bucky! You have Gail!"

God, how could she kissed her friend's boyfriend?

"I can't believe you just kiss me knowing that." And she reeled into the pure anxiety.

Bucky's pleads sounded muffled as her mind spiralled in guilt and shame. He grabbed her by the side of her arms before briefly pulling her back into reality, "Listen to me, y/n"

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, gripping it in her fists as her mind turned into complete chaos, "No, god this is wrong." He could hear panic in her trembling voice.

Bucky snapped as he yelled, "y/n, we broke up!"

There was a pause in time and air. Her body frozen as his words seemed to infinitely repeated in her ears. Head slowly turning towards Bucky; finally giving him the attention he demanded.

She just blankly stared at his truthful eyes with her own pair, wide open.

"He's bluffing. He's just making excuses."

"Bullshit! You looked very much in love last time I saw you, which let me remind you, it was few hours ago!"

Bucky thought about it for awhile before he replied,  "It's hard to explain everything now but she wanted to end it, for my sake." He paused. "...It's over."

He was not lying. Y/N knew that; she could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. But, it didn't make sense; why why why.

Gail was perfect for Bucky. He needs someone like her. He deserves that type of love that she gave; soft and tender.

"No no no. That can't be it. W-why the fuck are you here then? You gotta get to her Bucky! You're not suppose to here. Not with me. Go before it's too late--"

He is worthy of someone who's completely unbreakable, someone that can stay with him even at the darkest times, someone that won't see him as a weapon, but a human being.

Someone who will love him unconditionally.

Because, Bucky of all people, deserves to be loved.

"You don't mean that, y/n"

It hurts Bucky to see that Y/N thought she was unfit for a place in his heart, when she literally owns it. It pained him that she keeps putting up this facade that she unable to see her true self.

It burns her heart to let him go but that shows how far she was willing to sacrifice for Bucky, "I do. I mean it.." she can feel her tears pooling in her eyes, "You deserv--"

"Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself." Bucky couldn't understand she keeps pushing him away. If he truly deserve to love someone then why can't it be her?

"Lying?"

Y/N find it harder to breathe as her chest tightens. Did he see right through her? Her voice trembled as she struggled to let the words out,  "I..I'm not lying."

Bucky almost scoffed in disbelief, "You think I didn't noticed it, y/n?"

All those masks she hides in. Behind the facades she wore so boldly, so willingly. Hurting herself over and over everytime she had to put up a brave face.

No.

He made her do that.

If he was honest from the beginning then things wouldn't turn out like this. She wouldn't suffer as she did. She never needed to.

"And fuck was I so stupid to turn a blind eye on you for the sake of keeping you." Bucky was breathless with anger. A rage towards himself; for his foolishness.

"Do you know why I get together with Gail?" Bucky felt as if his chest was burning, searing with flames, that if this goes any further then his heart will turn to ashes.

But Y/N deserve the truth even though he knows he need to admit his shameful doings,  "Because she reminds me so much of you. Warm, gentle and so unconditionally kind. And I let myself fooled by the illusion of you that I saw in her."

"I'm a bad man y/n. I hurt her. And I hurt you. Fuck, I hurt everyone around me." His eyes stung to think how effortlessly he destroy every single person he love; as if he was designed to do so.

"I know that I deserve every single curse and scrutiny that come my way. I've always known that."

"But for once in my fucked up life," his voice betrayed him by revealing its' stuttering form, "...I also know that I am lucky to have the chance to love someone as unforgivingly enchanting as you."

There was a brief pause where the air was still and soundless; reserved for the painful sounds of their breath.

His raw emotions was laid out unfiltered in a form of streaming tears across his cheeks, "I won't ask for your love in return." He reached his hand to hers and held it dearly, "All I ask is for your forgiveness."

His eyes searched her soul, willing her to bare with him a little longer, "Because god I can't lose you. I can't."

Bucky felt like he was drowning; as he was 70 years ago at the Austrian Alps. The unbareable emotions rushed in like the frozen waters that filled his lungs.

Panic. Shame. Regret.

Y/N never thought she could come this far.

She thought she would able to lift the weight; and with the long record of success, she thought she wouldn't able to break.

But after all, she was just a human and there will always be a limit to where she will end up at.

What's the point of pretending when the person she loves is as miserable as her?

The tripedation of her only give false signals to Bucky; this is it, he was losing her.

But, there it was, the forgiving embrace he longed for. In her arms the world stopped still on its axis. He felt her body pressed in, soft and warm. This was the love he'd waited for, prayed for. Bucky's shaky hands roamed from the side of her waist before his arms crossed behind her, squeezing her closer, tighter.

How could she not forgive him? When he had pour all of him as he did.

There was no time, no wind, no sound. Just the heat of their body against each other. The melody of their heartbeats intertwining. Bucky's mind was at peace. So was hers.

No more more pretending.

No more putting on act.

She settled into the crook of his neck and whispered so soft and quiet that some won't be able to hear but Bucky did.

"I love you, too."

End.

<< Part II

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for your time to read my work. Feel free to express your thoughts in the comment/reblog! I love to hear from you~

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[ivys-garden]

Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly

First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it

That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.

On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.

It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening

Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)

If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)

I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur

(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)

Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.

(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)

Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear

DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC

"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-

Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before

Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.

He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.

He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.

If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.

Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym

[katsukikitten]

Izuku begs you to let him at least eat it through your pretty panties because you just look so fucking good in that dark green dress you wore to match his eyes. You, politely, keep turning him down because this was a suit and tie event, evening gowns for Christ's sake but here he was, cupping you when no one was looking. Pressing you into corners and whispering filth into your ear about how good you'll feel. How good you'll taste, soaking his tongue in your cum while fisting his hair.

Finally you allow him to do it, during a lull in the dinner before the main even and he eats you so sloppily through the soft cotton, groaning against your cunt and sucking your clit through the fabric. Until he can't stand it, he slips his fingers under the soaked cloth, pulling it to the side slowly until the silvery strings of your arousal snap on their own.

He has that look, that hooded gaze likes he's drunk and his cheeks are dusted. He looks up at you and you'd be a fool to mistake it as anything other than what it was.

Predatory.

He's strong and quick to hike one of your legs over his shoulders as he slurps greedily at your cunt. Shoving two fingers into your fluttering hole and angling them just right as his tongue flicks and swirls over your throbbing clit. Grazing it with his teeth before he takes it into his mouth and hums as he sucks.

You clamp down on his digits and slap a hand over your mouth as you moan loudly into your palm, tears coming to your eyes from how quickly and harshly he makes you cum again and again in the men's bathroom that he's broken the door to keep from opening for now. The sloppy squelching of your cunt almost drowns out the announcer's voice that dinner was finished and that it was time to present awards.

You shove Izuku with all of your might but of course the sturdy inheritor of One for All doesn't move. It's only when you tap his shoulder twice does he straighten, quick to change from pussy drunk to your doe eyed boyfriend.

"Did I hurt you?" He's standing, fixing your dress and pressing himself into you as he searches your eyes, "I pushed too hard?"

His concern makes you giggle as you push back his curls again and fix his dark suit, looking for any signs of stains.

"No silly Zuzu bear, the awards! We'll miss them."

"Oh r-right." He'll sheepishly look over you again before you tell him, yes, yes you're alright. His scarred hand at the small of your back as he guides you out and mostly fixes the door. But not perfect and a certain blonde will tease him later about being such a pussy hound.

Izuku will sit you at your table, he'll get called up to the stage and he'll accept his award, one passed back and forth between him and Dynamight for the past five years.

But Izuku has something they never will, oh no. Nothing will beat the rush of holding a trophy that comes and goes out of his life while still being able to smell you on his upper lip.

Cause at the end of the day, you were the real prize that Izuku has his eyes set on, not some cheap lacquered gold trophy.

Y o u

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her. 

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked. 

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad. 

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on. 

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding. 

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

“Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him. 

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

[shewolf-sinclair]

I HATE when people dumb down Jason Todd “he’s impulsive/irrational/erratic/brash/dumb/the angry robin!”

WRONG

let me break it down for you fools because he’s actually like one of the most nuanced and complex characters to ever bless my presence (and he’s the best ((my fav)) robin argue with the wall) (tldr at the end but please read the post)

Starting out as robin they are ALL orphans. because that’s like bruce’s thing. BUT dick and tim had families before bruce adopted them. Jason did not. HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. (+10 points for truama✨) which led him to grow up to be independent and resourceful. Bruce literally met him because he was trying to steal the bat mobiles tires with the intent of reverse engineering them to sell to the people of gotham because bullet proof tires in that kinda city would save lives source

As for being brash. Yeah. he is. he lacks people skills because HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. yet he still knows how to sympathize with people and not be an ass ALL the time. he’s cocky sure but it’s a defensive mechanism after years of being treated like he doesn’t have value/having to prove himself. and damien is worse lets bsffr.

He’s impulsive. (likely adhd) Teenager. next question.

He’s the angriest robin! he only ever wants vengeance! WRONG. dick is angrier! he was so petty he left gotham and got a new identity just as a fuck you to bruce. any anger Jason has is not unmatched or outdone by other robins and he is rightfully angry he’s been dealt a crappy hand in life. he’s jealous of dick because bruce was ALWAYS comparing him and telling heroic stories of dicks feats. it’s hard not to push yourself to be as good as or better than the og and not to crack under said pressure.

He’s dumb! NOPE. he is as smart if not smarter than tim. He is BRILLIANT when he wants to be. (see above: resourceful) if you take titans (cw) as canon (why wouldn’t u its as canon as any other tv show??) he is a GENIUS. he taught himself chemistry so he could invent and mass produce drugs. he had a genius strategy to fuck with the titans; the puzzle of clues for which dick needed scarecrow, kory, gar, and conner to solve. Not to mention him finding doctor light earlier in the season. He leads the outlaws bc he is a natural leader and good at handling the details!!

He’s a villain! OKAY AND? SO WAS HARLEY BUT WE LUV HER !! DAMIEN WAS A TRAINED ASSASAIN! he puts so much effort into helping people (see above: resourceful) HE RISKED/LOST HIS LIFE FOR IT. HE IS FIERCELY LOYAL. even as red hood he obtains a strict moral code; no drugs to kids or by schools, don’t kill innocent uninvolved people(depends on which media you’re looking at). serve karma on a gold platter. unlawful but USUALLY NOT unethical. he also becomes a vigilante (and the JL for a bit) and does so much good! none of them are perfect ALL of the time. and considering the other DC villains, he’s not that evil.

strength?? no problem! he almost beat dick and bruce several times in the comics!! source

not to mention his proficiency for new things (see above: chemistry) his whole time as robin he uses bat tech. but redhood uses guns and knives. he just picked that up and was a skilled marksman immediately. (also truama response after nearly dying to death stroke)

so what hes kinda fucked in the head. aren’t they all? isn’t that… the point? it’s justified after everything he’s been through AND it makes hims a better character, more 3D more realistic and relatable.

also for the sake of this thesis partially disregard the wonderful work of art that is WFA it’s a fixit. for a reason. because the it was broken and needed fixing.

TLDR; you don’t have to like Jason Todd, or think he’s the best Robin, but you have to admit, he is a complex, layered, well written character. And stop mischaracterizing him and dumbing him down to this impulsive, angry, weak kid.

bonus: my Jason playlist

[danganphobia]

Hiii 👋 Saw that you're taking requests. Have you seen the second prompt on the "angry confessions" post? I think it suits laishuro nicely 🙈

"I can't leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?" Toshiro grumbled.

Laios laughed sheepishly. "I mean, I'm fine so it's okay-"

"No, it's not okay!" It was nightfall in the dungeon, taking shelter for the night when Toshiro had asked Laios to see the healed wound on his forearm from the golem attack that occurred earlier, taking the party by surprise. Toshiro and Namari saved the day, and if it weren't for them, Laios would've been crushed to a pulp. "Not when I feel like I'm going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you've hurt yourself."

Laios went silent, watching Toshiro examine his arm. He nervously glanced at Toshiro's angered face, eyebrows twitching, worrying at his lower lip.

"Ah..." Laios chuckled, a faint blush on his cheeks, scratching his head. "Sorry about that. I really worried you back there."

Toshiro glared at him, unable to fight the urge to reach over and tug on Laios' stupid nose, watching him squirm and whine in protest.

"Worry is an understatement, you fool!" Toshiro hissed, careful to not wake up the other party members. "I'm always running all over the place, saving you, you should be able to save yourself..." He ranted on, and a long exhale escaped his lips. "And what if something were to happen, and none of us are around?"

"Shuro," Laios called his name, his voice so gentle it caught Toshiro off guard. Toshiro gathered the courage to look his nuisance of a companion in the eye, ignoring how it made his chest tighten, his throat dry, and his heart pound. Was Laios' eyes always so captivating, like bathing in pure gold? "I'm never worried when I get hurt, because I know you'll always be there to save me. You protect me, and for that, I can trust that you'll be by my side, right?"

Toshiro opened his mouth, gawking. Laios blinked in confusion.

"Why's your face so red, Shuro?"

"Such nonsense!" Toshiro exclaimed, vexing. "You are a skilled warrior, so act like it, for God's sake!"

Laios laughed. "Aw, thanks! So are you!"

Toshiro could just strangle the man right here. No one would know. That was if Toshiro tried as hard as he could to hide Laios' body. Party members looked out for each other; they protected each other. He couldn't just leave Laios to die, throw him to the wolves. Skilled or not, someone needed to keep an eye on his blindspot.

It just so happened Toshiro had to be his knight and shining armor. If he had told Namari about this, she'd just poke fun at him for pretending he didn't care. You'd save him in a heartbeat and you know it, she had said once.

And it wasn't just her, sometimes, Falin thanked him for protecting Laios every now and then. Marcille as well.

They trusted Laios to be Toshiro's responsibility, and there was absolutely no other way to put it.

Toshiro scooted away from Laios, lying on the blankets, feeling himself grow weary.

"Toshiro," he mumbled, turning to his side. Laios hadn't lied down yet, feeling his presence looming over Toshiro's form. "My name. It's Toshiro."

Laios hummed, before he repeated, slowly. "Toshiro."

"Yes. Toshiro."

"So, then, it's not Shuro..." Laios figured. Then, he gasped, startling Toshiro. "Shit! I didn't realize I've been calling you the wrong name all this time! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Keep your voice down you imbecile," Toshiro scolded, hearing rustling as Laios got into his blankets, unusually closer to Toshiro than before. After Laios went quiet, he confessed, "I don't know why. Everyone had gotten used to it already..."

"Well, I can get used to Toshiro," Laios insisted, stubborn as always. "Besides, I like Toshiro a lot more. Sounds pretty... Toshiro... Toshiro..." He murmured to himself, trying to memorize every syllable, so it would permanently burn into his mind. He sounded content, determined, as if he had nearly forgotten everything else that happened today.

Another blush blossomed on Toshiro's cheeks in the dark of the night.

send me a prompt and i'll write you a drabble!

[turbulentscrawl]

Who Smokes?

Did you know the manor has a dedicated smoke room? decisions made in collab with @athanasius-symposium-of-writings

Smokes Often

Joseph- Has at least one cigarette a day, but he only smokes outside and in a dedicated smoke room, to prevent other spaces from smelling or staining. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Mary- Also smokes at least one cigarette a day, and she uses those special holders. She and Joseph socialize while smoking a lot. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Freddy- He smokes socially, a habit he picked up from events with work colleagues, and also tends to have a smoke after dinner.

Kevin- Smokes cigarettes socially and to relax. Has also been known to dabble in other smokables. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Jose- Smokes in social settings, after dinner, and after sex. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Andrew- Won’t spend the money to buy his own cigarettes but will take any he is offered.

Fan Wujiu- Smokes cigarettes often, and always while drinking. He has and will inhale other substances. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Fools Gold- Gives no fucks—he’ll eat the whole pack in front of you.

Smokes Sometimes

Orpheus- May take a cigarette if offered one, but he prefers pipes and expensive cigars. He doesn’t necessarily smoke everyday, but he smokes after a stressful day, when he’s thinking hard, or in certain company. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Luchino- he’ll smoke cigarettes socially, but never in his office or bedroom.

Geisha- She’ll smoke a pipe to relax at the end of a long week, or after a match. Almost always in company, though. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Antonio- smokes when he drinks. Both of which he did a lot more before the manor, but it still happens a few times a week now. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Emily- Stress-smokes. She has other, better coping mechanisms, however, so this is rare.

Naib- Smokes when he’s hungry, as a distraction.

Martha- Picked it up from some coworkers, but only does it in specific social situations.

Ada- Will accept offered cigarettes out of politeness but barely uses them. She does not let Emil around others who are actively smoking because he’s got enough health issues.

Demi- Rarely keeps her own cigarettes on hand, but running a bar she was around smoke a lot and doesn’t have an issue partaking herself occasionally. Will give you a smoke kiss.

Edgar- Will smoke socially, occasionally, and with throttle anyone who smokes near his painting room.

Melly- Similar to Ada, will accept a cigarette offered to he but hardly touches it.

Alice- Will smoke socially, for the sake of blending in with the crowd.

Qi- Has a smoking pipe, and will smoke a few times a week. But only alone.

Charles- His coworkers did, so he got used to joining sometimes.

Xie Bian- Will smoke occasionally in social settings.

Galatea- Smokes with a cigarette holder because she wants to feel more like a “fancy” lady.

Never Smokes

Norton- Tried it a few times, but didn’t like it. His lungs are bad enough, thanks.

Vera- Does not smoke, and hates being around smoke. She doesn’t want to mess up her sense of smell.

Emma- She’s not interested, and doesn’t love the smell. Gets mad at people if they dump ashes in her gardens.

Lucky Guy- Tried it once, was not impressed.

William- Not willing to risk his health.

Ganji- Same as William.

Helena- Doesn’t see the appeal.

Fiona- She’s tried it a few times, but wasn’t impressed.

Eli- He tried it before and didn’t get hooked. Won’t pick it up again because Brooke Rose dislikes smoke.

Aesop- Can’t stand the smell or the residue.

Mike- Will hang around people are actively smoking, but doesn’t smoke himself.

Victor- Nervous about the health costs.

Luca- Doesn’t like smoking, and doesn’t want people doing it near his workshop.

Anne- Not interested.

Emil- Doesn’t get the appeal.

Matthias- Brings back bad memories.

Frederick- Felt forced to do it socially a few times, hates it.

Joker- Will hang around people are actively smoking, but doesn’t smoke himself.

Philippe- His sister didn’t like smoke so he never partook and doesn’t care for the residue.

Ithaqua- Has some knowledge of other consumable and smokeable substances…but doesn’t partake in tobacco.

Sangria- She needs her lungs, thank you.

Alva- Similar to Luca, he does not smoke and does not want it around his workshop.

[the-chessboard-is-personal]

season 2 time wahoo another damn liveblog am I right??

(liveblogging ii season 2, for if it's not obvious. same style as last ii liveblog)

1 - woahh! okay I love the style tbh. wait. Super Mario 3D World/Initial release date: November 21, 2013. this episode: Apr 2, 2013. INANIMATE INSANITY PREDICTED THE DOUBLE CHERRY???? ...huh. weird. why does MePhone have an app for that? y'know, RESURRECTION?

2 - MePad ? can teleport? ?? yeah that egg is gonna be relevant again isn't it

3 - BOW INATOR?? holy shit holy shit ohhg waow,,there is something in this episode that I want so much. lmao. "umm huh, lmhuehyahahuh.." (<- me attempting to spell what test tube said at the end of the ep)

4 - I didn't think the elimination song sucked.. hey wait why does it sound like they get killed or something when they go through the portal. also where does the portal lead

5 - SEVEN?? MeOS SEVEN??? oh huh. is that why someone who dies in space can't come back? OH THE NO SERVICE COMMENT WAS FORESHADOWING!!? wait why is that how it works. why does MePhone specifically get notifications about people dying. wh- okay?? that was ominous ?MePhone what does that rnean. ..chESS MENTIONED

6 - aaand there's another one. ANOTHER TWO??? .oh :| ...what the entire fuck. and yep this episode makes me uncomfortable. who would've FUCKING GUESSED

7 - oh so THAT'S where the portal lead. ..as down as the WHAT- ouhjghhu nooo... not a song

8 - ah yes, MePhone got The Common Code- oh. also idc what the objects say, ftrEwy7u9iop8oaTE7gI is a wonderful name for a challenge. or a password. each new MePhone gets less understandable because of the "techy" voice effec- oh he's dead. [sees Steve Cobs's reaction to the egg] ohh okay. one moment [walks away from the computer]please don't be like dsmp please don't be like dsmp please don't be like dsmp please don't be like dsmp plehokay. oh I don't like him

9 - ...I'm not crying you're crying.,, uohg this is the second time a show like this has had something that felt like it was directed at me. and the other time was Gothi talking to Xanu in Fool's Gold,.,. which was also about moving on.. is.. is that wh- oh hey a gravity falls reference. haha lol :) ...oh this is the depression eppisode. BITCH -> 🌮 <- BITCH

10 - aha! I've figured it out! the secret is MPABZCEAS!! holy fucking shit my joke was immediately kind of relevant. wha..suitcase?? y'know that voice kinda sounded like MePhone

11 - wHUH SMG4 SOUND?! oh wait that sound probably isn't from SMG4, that's just the first time I heard it. still though, neat. ...wild theory. I'm gonna sound like Fan here, but. "Is anything on this show real?" seems.hmm idk. sus. I call foreshadowing. hokay something's definitely going on with Suitcase. oH FOR FUCK'S SAKE yep don't like this episode either

12 - oh fuck they're in episode 1. oh fuck they're in HWUH ?? ..ohh MePhone hates Cobs too. hey if anyone's read this far, I want to know who's your favorite character from the alternate timeline, because why not! mine is Traffic Light

13 - woahhh MePhone backstory! oh. oh I do Not trust that "screen protector". HEY HEY WHAT WAS THAT WHISPER [turns on captions] oh. oh REALLY. HMM. ...wh. what. what what what what what ROBOT ADAM?? MEPHONE 3???? WHAT WHAT WHAT AAAAAAAA UH OH! UH OH OH NO UH OH!! ohkay this is the panic time, the time in every show tumblr freaks out about where things go CRAZY. OKAY OKAY I'M READY AAAAAA

14 - so the person who told me I should watch ii said I need to watch all of season 3 after this episode. I have no idea why! oh fuck! but anyway. that rneans I'll be splitting this section into actual paragraphs since this is the last episode of this liveblog. (<- said that before starting the episode). anyway.

okay. okay Fan just got abducted. ..hhhow did he know that. how did he know that MePad let Marshmallow leave. .hey hey what's with the shot of that panel with the hole in it. maybe I'm just tired but that doesn't seem..right. and not in the bad writing way.

uhm. hey 17:36 isn't supposed to be hitting me too whY IS IT HITTING ME TOO WAUGH.

"is that what you said to Pickle" OHH DAMN MY HEART DROPPED LIKE THE SCENE HOLY SHIT. wait IS FAN DEAD FOREVER??

wait didn't test Tube get eliminated? why did Microphone go through the portal??

looking at the comments for. tbh I forgot what reason when i saw this one

uh knew what KNEW WHAT OH FU-

anyway. so Fan glitching is. gonna be foreshadowing? oh boy let me guess... uhh.. wait why would Fan glitch. other things that glitch are..the tree MePhone made for Cobs? MePhone himself when Tissue Box sneezed on him?? that MePhone 3?? but none of that has anything to do with Fan..

unless.. AHA!

FAN IS A PROJECTION MADE BY ONE OF THE NEWER MEPHONES

COBS IS GOING TO KNOW WHERE THEY ARE AS LONG AS FAN IS THERE!!

although with Fan eliminated, th- oh there's an after credits scene?

UH. UM. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

AND THE OMINOUS OUTRO THEME. UH OH

okokokokokokayokayokayokay. that's obviously some kind of MePhone. the Meeple logo is there and it's phone shaped, so. that's pretty obvious. but not one that's been seen before, right? like not even a model that's been seen before, because none of them have the grabby hands.

because of the red X imagery I'm gonna guess this one is called MePhone X. and if not, well I'm gonna refer to it as that until I find out otherwise

with how scary that moment was clearly intended to be, we can all agree that Toilet just got permakilled, right? like. despite not being in space? that was definitely. not anything good that happened to Toilet there. I'm just gonna assume Toilet's dead, yep that just happened. aaand now there's a seemingly murderous (although maybe it had a grudge against Toilet for some reason, but I find that unlikely) MePhone roaming around. n e a t .

thiiiiinking that thing is the exception to the "each MePhone we see is dumber than the last" rule that seems to be present. hm. wonder who the Big Villain is going to be

welp it's too late to binge s3 rn so uh. yeap. okay. sure. that's a thing

[kissorkill16]

Should I Trust Her?: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: How can you like someone who used to be a bully? Take notes from Maritza.

(P.S., for @maritzaxfinchshiper !)

I don't know what the hell Nicky was thinking inviting Finch to the group.

The girl was a freaking bitch the whole time we knew her.

Of course, I was glad that she was a little afraid of me after me and the gang broke her camera. That thought helped every time I saw her face.

As time went by, Nicky told me that I should at least try to tolerate her, just like he'd told Trinity. But I didn't want to tolerate her, I wanted her to get out of our group and away from him.

She used to fucking bully him for God's sake!

I know Nicky wanted to give her another chance, but not everyone deserves that. Some people are still jerks no matter how much you want to trust them, and Finch was one of those jerks, I could tell just by looking at her.

But as I kept a close eye on Finch, I started to tolerate her only a little bit. We talked about stuff, and we're both athletic. She does hiking thanks to the scouts, and I do soccer.

I still didn't really trust her though, I was just getting used to her.

One afternoon, I was walking home from school, and I saw a familiar person through someone's window.

A window of a nice house, a nice big house. All white, windows were rose gold, hedges were trimmed, and the lawn was mowed.

Damn, whoever lived here must be rich rich.

When I looked closer through the window, I saw that the familiar person was...Finch?!

Was this her house?

And in front of her was a tall man in a dark green sweater vest. I guess it might be her dad.

I knew I shouldn't, I wasn't a stalker, I wasn't like Nicky or something. (Okay, low blow. I know, but I didn't know what else to say.) But against my better judgement, I tip toed to the window and listened to their conversation.

"Dad, it wasn't my fault. I -"

"I don't want to hear it, young lady. Here I am, trying to work to support this family after your skank of a mother left, and here you are being a fucking stalker!", said her dad.

The man held up a familiar newspaper article, and I immediately knew what they were arguing about. The newspaper article about Nicky's mental breakdown.

Then he held up two more pictures I didn't recognize, or even realized she took. They were also pictures of Nicky.

When did she take those? Was she planning to use those?

Oh my fucking God, I knew she couldn't be trusted.

"So not only did you make this article and make this poor boy look like a fool, you're also using your new one to stalk him! Probably to make another embarrassing article, I'm guessing.", said Finch's dad.

"Dad, I promise. It's not like that.", Finch tried to explain, but the man held up her hand, signaling her to stop talking.

"Not another word.", he said. "I'm going to take these pictures, and I'll be destroying them."

The look on Finch's face was something I've never seen before. She looked almost devastated.

"And you owe this boy an apology."

That's when I walked away from the window and away from the house completely.

Damn, was Finch's dad a jerk or what?

The worst thing was that he didn't know that Finch already apologized to Nicky for the picture incident.

I couldn't help but feel bad for her. I hated her so much, and it looked like she already got enough hate from her own dad. Sure, I couldn't blame him for getting mad at her for that article, but he didn't even give her a chance to explain herself for the other pictures.

She didn't take those to make another article, she took those because she liked Nicky and wanted to keep him with her at all times.

Like I said, I felt kind of bad, so I decided that I should make it up to her.

When I saw her in the hallway, I pulled her aside to the bathroom.

"Maritza?", she said. "What're you doing?"

I didn't answer her question. Instead, I took out an orange envelope and handed it to her. "Open this.", I said.

Finch was hesitant for a moment, but then she took the envelope and opened it. She softly gasped and held a hand to her mouth, and her eyes widened in surprise.

I could see her eyes sparkling.

"Where did you get these?", she asked, showing me the tiny pieces of paper that were in the envelope.

They were all pictures of Nicky.

"Well, I borrowed a camera from one of the employees at the Raven Brooks Banner and followed Nicky around.", I replied. Now Finch looked a little worried. "Were you seen?", she asked.

I shook my head, "Nope. I wore extra layers of clothing and a mask. If anything, they'll probably think I'm some creepy stalker.", I said. "I even got a couple of him sleeping, and poor dude was too beat to even wake up when the cam flashed."

Finch looked down at the pictures, then back up at me. "Maritza, why did you do this for me?", she asked.

I shrugged and rubbed the back of my head, "I felt kind of bad after I kind of overheard you and your dad arguing about that newspaper article -"

"How do you -"

"Not important.", I said. "Look, I felt bad for you, so I thought I'd do something nice for you. Your dad probably already destroyed those old pictures of Nicky, so..."

Her eyes widened, and she looked at the pictures again, then back up at me. She smiled and gave me a hug, I stilled for a moment, but I eventually hugged her back.

"Thank you so much, Mari!", she squealed.

"Yeah, no problem.", I said. Then I gently pushed her away, "But here's the catch. You can only keep those if you promise not to bully Nicky anymore."

Finch nodded so fast, her head could've come off. "I promise."

I put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her, "Great.", I said. "Now don't go breaking that promise."

We both walked out of the bathroom. As I walked to my next class, I couldn't help but think to myself that maybe I could learn to like Finch.

After all, she was starting to be nicer and less of a bitch. Maybe as we progress more from there, we could actually be friends.

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

Calling all Aegon II fans who hate Book Dany for burning Mirri (for murdering her baby) and crucifying the slavers (for crucifying slave children) - how do you feel about Aegon's little light show?

Lastly King Aegon II turned his attention to the Shepherd. When brought before the Iron Throne for judgment, the prophet refused to repent his crimes or admit to treason, but thrust the stump of his missing hand at the king and told His Grace, “We shall meet in hell before this year is done,” the same words he had spoken to Borros Baratheon upon his capture. For that insolence, Aegon had the Shepherd’s tongue torn out with hot pincers, then condemned him and his “treasonous followers” to death by fire.

On the last day of the year, two hundred forty-one “barefoot lambs,” the Shepherd’s most fervid and devoted followers, were covered with pitch and chained to poles along the broad cobbled thoroughfare that ran eastward from Cobbler’s Square up to the Dragonpit. As the city’s septs rang their bells to signal the end of the old year and the coming of the new, King Aegon II proceeded along the street (thereafter known as Shepherd’s Way, rather than Hill Street as before) in his litter, whilst his knights rode to either side, setting their torches to the captive lambs to light his way. Thus did His Grace continue up the hill to the very top, where the Shepherd himself was bound amongst the heads of the five dragons. Supported by two of his Kingsguard, King Aegon rose from his cushions, tottered to the pole where the prophet had been chained, and set him aflame with his own hand.

Or what he did to Maester Gerardys for the crime of *checks notes* obeying his maesters vows and offering him medical treatment?

Aegon II lived the rest of his life in great pain…though to his honor, when Grand Maester Gerardys offered him milk of the poppy, he refused. “I shall not walk that road again,” he said. “Nor am I such a fool as to drink any potion you might prepare for me. You are my sister’s creature.” At the king’s command, the chain that Princess Rhaenyra had torn from Grand Maester Orwyle’s neck and given to Gerardys was now used to hang him. He was not given the quick end of a hard fall and a broken neck, but rather a slow strangulation, kicking as he gasped for air. Thrice, when he was almost dead, Gerardys was let down and allowed to catch a breath, only to be hauled up again. After the third time, he was disemboweled and dangled before Sunfyre so the dragon might feast upon his legs and innards, but the king commanded that enough of the Grand Maester be saved so “he might greet my sweet sister on her return.”

They found him hanging from the battlements of the gatehouse beside Dragonstone’s steward, captain of the guard, master-at-arms…and the head and upper torso of Grand Maester Gerardys. Everything below his ribs was gone, and the Grand Maester’s entrails dangled down from within his torn belly like so many burned black snakes.

And perhaps you can compare Gerardys' fate to that of Tyland Lannister... whose fate is indeed very fucked up.

Though the Crown had been flush with gold upon the passing of King Viserys, Aegon II had seized the treasury along with the crown, and his master of coin, Tyland Lannister, had shipped off three-quarters of the late king’s wealth “for safekeeping.” King Aegon had spent every penny of the portion kept in King’s Landing, leaving only empty vaults for his half-sister when she took the city.

Queen Alicent was fettered at wrist and ankle with golden chains, though her stepdaughter spared her life “for the sake of our father, who loved you once.” Her own father was less fortunate. Ser Otto Hightower, who had served three kings as Hand, was the first traitor to be beheaded. Ironrod followed him to the block, still insisting that by law a king’s son must come before his daughter. Ser Tyland Lannister was given to the torturers instead, in hopes of recovering some of the Crown’s treasure.

Down in the black cells, Ser Perkin’s men even found King Aegon’s former master of coin, Ser Tyland Lannister, still alive…though Rhaenyra’s torturers had blinded him, pulled out his fingernails and toenails, cut off his ears, and relieved him of his manhood.

However consider that Tyland stealing and hiding the treasury led directly to Rhaenyra's downfall. The bankruptcy of the realm - and the taxes Lord Celtigar had to raise as a result - was disastrous to Rhaenyra's reign. Of course any monarch was going to order Tyland be interrogated. Had her interrogators succeeded in getting the information out of him, the tide of the dance would have changed completely. If if weren't for the gold, his fate would have been the same as Otto Hightower and Jasper Wylde (Ironrod).

And yes, you can pull out the 'both sides' argument. You can argue that in this fantasy-medieval world both sides commit war crimes - in a world where beheadings and hangings are normalised and committed by both sides, where torture and ripping out tongues is normalised and committed by both sides - can any side claim a moral high ground? But even considering ideas of moral relativism when discussing a fantasy-medieval world, what purpose did it serve to torture Maester Gerardys, other than mere sadism?

Blood and Cheese

And perhaps you can ask, well, what purpose did it serve to kill Prince Jaehaerys? And to psychologically torture Helaena in such a horrifically cruel way? Well, no purpose at all. No justifiable purpose anyway. But I maintain that Rhaenyra did not order it, or even know it was going to happen:

Her first act as queen was to declare Ser Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent traitors and rebels. “As for my half-brothers and my sweet sister, Helaena,” she announced, “they have been led astray by the counsel of evil men. Let them come to Dragonstone, bend the knee, and ask my forgiveness, and I shall gladly spare their lives and take them back into my heart, for they are of my own blood, and no man or woman is as accursed as the kinslayer.” Word of Rhaenyra’s coronation reached the Red Keep the next day, to the great displeasure of Aegon II. “My half-sister and my uncle are guilty of high treason,” the young king declared. “I want them attainted, I want them arrested, and I want them dead.”

GRRM put these two announcements next to each other for a reason for starters - though this was before Luke's death...

On Dragonstone, Queen Rhaenyra collapsed when told of Luke’s death. Luke’s young brother Joffrey (Jace was still away on his mission north) swore a terrible oath of vengeance against Prince Aemond and Lord Borros. Only the intervention of the Sea Snake and Princess Rhaenys kept the boy from mounting his own dragon at once. (Mushroom would have us believe he played a part as well.) As the black council sat to consider how to strike back, a raven arrived from Harrenhal. “An eye for an eye, a son for a son,” Prince Daemon wrote. “Lucerys shall be avenged.” Let it not be forgotten: in his youth, Daemon Targaryen had been the “Prince of the City,” his face and laugh familiar to every cutpurse, whore, and gambler in Flea Bottom. The prince still had friends in the low places of King’s Landing, and followers amongst the gold cloaks. Unbeknownst to King Aegon, the Hand, or the Queen Dowager, he had allies at court as well, even on the green council…and one other go-between, a special friend he trusted utterly, who knew the wine sinks and rat pits that festered in the shadow of the Red Keep as well as Daemon himself once had, and moved easily through the shadows of the city. To this pale stranger he reached out now, by secret ways, to set a terrible vengeance into motion.

Daemon, named the Rogue Prince for a reason, was acting independently of the Black Council - and of Rhaenyra. In fact, the Council itself is suggested to be acting independently of Rhaenyra:

The bird arrived as Rhaenyra and her blacks were mourning Ser Erryk and debating the proper response to “Aegon the Usurper’s” latest attack. Though shaken by this attempt on her life (or the lives of her sons), the queen was still reluctant to attack King’s Landing. Munkun (who, it must be remembered, wrote many years later) says this was because of her horror of kinslaying. Maegor the Cruel had slain his own nephew Aegon, and had been cursed thereafter, until he bled his life away upon his stolen throne. Septon Eustace claims Rhaenyra had “a mother’s heart” that made her reluctant to risk the lives of her remaining sons. Mushroom alone was present for these councils, however, and the fool insists that Rhaenyra was still so griefsick over the death of her son Lucerys that she absented herself from the war council, giving over her command to the Sea Snake and his wife, Princess Rhaenys.

This account is considered by Archmaester Gyldayn to be the most likely. Especially since it stands in contrast to her reaction to Jace's death, making it likely that beforehand she had been withdrawn in her grief.

Broken by the loss of one son, Rhaenyra Targaryen seemed to find new strength after the loss of a second. Jace’s death hardened her, burning away her fears, leaving only her anger and her hatred.

Still, assuming she wasn't responsible for Blood and Cheese, should she have executed Daemon for it? I suppose no more than Aegon should have executed Aemond for murdering Lucerys - a child and a messenger - rather than throwing him a congratulatory feast. Robb Stark would have done it. Robb Stark also paid dearly for it. And Daemon is both the father of two of her children and the rider of Caraxes in a war where every dragon counts, where the remainder of her children's lives are still at stake.

How many innocent ratcatchers did Aegon hang in revenge for Blood and Cheese?

Ok, well what about Nettles?

Obviously I am not here to defend Rhaenyra's treatment of Nettles - but I know TG like to raise it as an example of 'both sides are just as bad'.

On that note, I can compare Daemon's bloodless takeover of Harrenhal to Aemond beheading children. I can detail both Aemond and Daeron's war crimes in the riverlands, including allowing the mass rape of children. I can point out that the Greens also attempted to court Dalton Greyjoy, and remind you that their allies the Triarchy are guilty of their own fair share of kidnap and enslavement.

But lets keep this to comparing Rhaenyra's actions to Aegon's actions. First off, most of her councillors - aside from 2 - were urging her to suspect the remaining dragonseeds, were warning her of the threat of two more dragonriders turning Green, the threat this would pose to her surviving children. And she ultimately acted on the word of her master of whisperers, Mysaria. At a time when Rhaenyra is documented as being in a deteriorated mental state due to her grief at losing 4 children, and paranoia - a consideration that even Septon Eustace allows.

“Her Grace had been betrayed so often, by so many, that she was quick to believe the worst of any man,” Septon Eustace writes. “Treachery no longer had the power to surprise her. She had come to expect it, even from those she loved the most.”

Was Aegon also in a deteriorated mental state due to grief and paranoia when he executed the ratcatchers? Yes, I suppose - though they didn't have dragons or pose much of a threat. But was Aegon also in physical pain himself when he tortured and gruesomely murdered Maester Gerardys, or when he put on his little light show? Yes, I suppose that is a consideration - I'm sure Maester Gerardys forgave it. But Rhaenyra's paranoia and grief didn't compel her to order anything out of the ordinary in this fantasy medieval world - arrests, interrogations, beheadings. Aegon's treatment of the Shepherd and his followers, of the ratcatchers, of Maester Gerardys, is particularly sadistic and pointless.

I'll have to do a separate post to discuss Mushroom and Eustace and their motives, which are not as simple as one always tells the truth about Rhaenyra and one always lies - but it is worth noting that it is Eustace's account that insists Rhaenyra ordered Nettles be executed specifically out of jealousy, that calls Nettles a 'common thing with the stink of sorcery'. I am not saying there is no shred of truth to it, but it wouldn't be out of character for Eustace to depict events in the most misogynistic way possible (plus he wasn't in the room). This is the same guy who went 'who would fight for Rhaenyra now she's fat and ugly?', so it's not beyond him to cast her as a jealous bitch. Maybe it did go down as Eustace says (again, still considering Rhaenyra's mental state), or maybe Mysaria claimed to have proof of an actual plan to betray the Blacks, not just adultery?

It might be so. Yet Queen Rhaenyra did not act at once, but rather sent for Mysaria, the harlot and dancing girl who was her mistress of whisperers in all but name. With her skin as pale as milk, Lady Misery appeared before the council in a hooded robe of black velvet lined with blood-red silk, and stood with head bowed humbly as Her Grace asked whether she thought Ser Addam and Nettles might be planning to betray them. Then the White Worm raised her eyes and said in a soft voice, “The girl has already betrayed you, my queen. Even now she shares your husband’s bed, and soon enough she will have his bastard in her belly.” Then Queen Rhaenyra grew most wroth, Septon Eustace writes.

Eustace says Rhaenyra asked about both Addam and Nettles, but Mysaria is only quoted answering about Nettles. Which doesn't explain why Rhaenyra subsequently ordered Addam's arrest too. We don't have any alternative accounts to Eustace's, but then we could also consider Gyldayn's motives in compiling historical accounts the way he does (though that admittedly can lead us down many rabbit holes).

So maybe Rhaenyra was acting out of spiteful jealousy, or maybe paranoia and a deteriorated mental state, or maybe false evidence, or maybe some combination of the above. Either way, again compare to how Aegon treats Maester Gerardys. You can argue he does so out of paranoia, out of pain - but he could have simply had Gerardys arrested or executed. He didn't have to kill him the way he did. 'Both sides are bad' still leaves room for 'one side was worse', and each side was made up of more actors than just Aegon and Rhaenyra.

After all, who does Daemon ultimately lay the blame on?

The prince greeted me politely, but as he read I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said, ‘A queen’s words, a whore’s work.’

We could likewise pin the blame on Alicent if you wish, for Aegon ordering the mutilation of a 10-year-old Aegon the Younger and a 13-year-old Baela.

“You fed his mother to your dragon,” she reminded her son. “The boy saw it all.” The king turned to her desperately. “What would you have me do?” “You have hostages,” the Queen Dowager replied. “Cut off one of the boy’s ears and send it to Lord Tully. Warn them he will lose another part for every mile they advance.” “Yes,” Aegon II said. “Good. It shall be done.” He summoned Ser Alfred Broome, who had served him so well on Dragonstone. “Go and see to it, ser.” As the knight took his leave, the king turned to Corlys Velaryon. “Tell your bastard to fight bravely, my lord. If he fails me, if any of these Braavosi pass the Gullet, your precious Lady Baela shall lose some parts as well.”

Well, she didn't say anything about Baela, he just added another child to the mutilation list (if you replaced Aegon with Joffrey and Baela with Sansa, would TG still be salivating?). And Alicent wasn't around when Aegon chose this particularly violent and gruesome execution:

Rhaenyra Targaryen had time to raise her head toward the sky and shriek out one last curse upon her half-brother before Sunfyre’s jaws closed round her, tearing off her arm and shoulder. Septon Eustace tells us that the golden dragon devoured the queen in six bites, leaving only her left leg below the shin “for the Stranger.” Elinda Massey, youngest and gentlest of Rhaenyra’s ladies-in-waiting, supposedly gouged out her own eyes at the sight, whilst the queen’s son Aegon the Younger watched in horror, unable to move.

"This was revenge for Blood and Cheese... Aegon would have assumed Rhaenyra ordered it..." Hey if I was picking a way to go, I'd take a slit throat over being eaten alive. One is a great deal quicker.

Is the psychological torture Aegon the Younger went through here justified by the psychological torture Helaena went through? Do I even care to entertain it? Do you want me to go all the way back to the psychological torture Rhaenyra went through over Lucerys while Aegon and Aemond were partying - how terrifying were his final moments, was his death mercifully quick, did he feel himself being eaten alive, was he swallowed whole, was he still alive when Vhagar digested him - she didn't have a body to bury, only the horrors of her imagination. (hey TG, replace Aemond and Vhagar with Ramsay and his hunting hounds).

Aegon the Elder at this point had also very recently just murdered Maester Gerardys in the most pointlessly gruesome and sadistic way. So you know what, I'm inclined to think he didn't have justice for Helaena in mind when he forced Aegon the Younger to watch. I think he's just like that.

While we can theoretically blame Daemon for Blood and Cheese, and Mysaria for Nettles, Aegon has no such deniability for the ratcatchers, for the Shepherd and his followers, for Maester Gerardys, for Rhaenyra, for Aegon the Younger and Baela. While we can see the high stakes behind the interrogation of Tyland Lannister (which could have changed the course of the entire war), what point did it serve to torture Maester Gerardys? And while we can make mitigating considerations for both Aegon and Rhaenyra's mental state, one is considerably more sadistic than the other.

[isa-ghost]

Perhaps some headcanons about qPhil and the hardcore deities?

YESSS

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Okay so like, with all of these keep in mind my current personal headcanon/theory is that qPhil is hcPhil with his memory lost/altered by The Federation prior to arriving on the island. However it is that they got him, they wiped/suppressed his memory of his past just like other islanders and clipped his wings.

So TECHNICALLY these are hcPhil headcanons but also qPhil.

He's ofc closest with Rose. Unless you count Kristin as a hc deity. Rose was extremely fond and pleased of the way Phil would come along and take it upon himself to restore or touch up the builds that document the history of the gods, purely for fun and curiosity's sake. His love for the beauty of it all attracted her.

He's next closest with Ocean Overlord, though you'd assume otherwise because OO almost never personally connects with Phil in any way. No spiritual or supernatural signs, no personal talks or showing himself. (It's because the fool is sleeping or off catering to his whims). But Phil fishes a lot, and speaking as someone who practices witchcraft, you don't need to formally work with or worship a god to please them with the things you do. Fishing would be considered a devotional act to OO from a Pagan pov, so the fact that Phil does it so often and also cleaned up some of Flowerfall for him and Rose means OO likes Phil a lot. He's "a funky lil bird dude."

Phil is next closest with Blaze. She's also very hands off but deliberately so compared to OO. However, she still has a deep respect for Phil despite her distance and he admires the shit out of her in return. He thinks she's an absolute badass. His skills and wit impress her and his frequent visits to her domain and his love for her servants He & She amuse her. She's never seen a human so set on visiting the Nether frequently, let alone her domain specifically. Also he won't hesitate to take down a Piglin, and that's always a plus to her. (His gold farm pleases her deeply).

And ofc, of the deities we know of, he's least close with Ender King. Phil isn't exactly sure what specific event kicked off the way things are now, but EK just generally isn't something you want to mess with no matter what. EK probably disliked Phil from the get-go because he has friendly relations with the other gods, who all contributed to his failure & death. On top of that, the cave he rots in under Endlantis is like one of those haunted places you just Do Not Ever Go because it's very likely you'll go home with something attached to you (and Phil did). EK picked up on Phil's penchant for stealing & collecting cool things and how strong he can be (he has to be, he's a survivalist!) & did exactly that. He's been cooking on the potential vessel stuff since the day he met Phil.

Rose is the one who's always left him a sign of some sort that would confirm his assumptions about the history of builds and their relation to the gods. She never left him direct communication like she does with the books on QI bc she never intended to get that direct, but it's much harder to leave him subtler hints in a totally different world so she speaks to him via books instead.

I've said this before somewhere but basically the reason Rose (& EK, but him for malicious reasons) reached out to Phil on QI was not only to warn him of & protect him from EK but also to try and trigger Phil's memories of his life in the world he's really from and break him free of The Federation's meddling with his memory. She's had little success so far, kinda timed things badly given that the Feds had JUST locked him in the Birdhouse and fucked with his sense of reality. And EK kinda made that worse.

Ender King chose to officially act on his desire to possess Phil outside of the hc world because a) the other gods can't protect him as easily on QI and b) Phil himself is also nerfed and therefore easier to fuck with (thanks Federation <3)

Even now that EK's attempts to possess him are done with (for now), Rose is continuing to protect Phil and his family. She intervened when the Purgatory workers attacked, she'll intervene on other threats. But she only can if he's not around others. She's trying to keep herself secret from anyone outside the Death Family. Though she wouldn't be object to Fit knowing since he knows about EK. And she likes Bagi too. It's just easier to not start making tons of exceptions. Though overall, Phil is the one who's more strict about keeping the deities secret. Rose is more lax about it but acknowledges it's easier this way.

Part of why EK is the lil asshole that he is is bc he Knows Phil and Rose want the gods kept secret so he went out of his way to be like HEEEEY THIS IDIOT BIRD HAS A SECRET OOOO and intentionally made it look like it was a dark secret at that. Sewing mistrust among Phil's allies further isolates him and makes him an even easier target. : )

Phil has a feeling Blaze wants nothing to do with QI (and he's right). Any contact from her will be done begrudgingly and probably not until the Nether is opened bc otherwise she has to not only realm hop but world hop and that is more trouble than it's worth in her eyes.

Phil's honestly surprised he hasn't heard anything from Ocean Overlord while on QI yet. Especially post-reset. He lives beachfront more or less, he fishes a fuckton as of late, he goes on boating adventures often. And QI's whole shtick is that it's a vacation island or whatever, which is like OO's entire vibe. Phil's a bit baffled.

Semi-related, Phil's insistent that OO isn't JUST a bit of a sleepy or lazy idiot. That's a fucking god. Who rules the ocean. The unforgiving motherfucking ocean. He truths OO as a crouching tiger hidden dragon in terms of power. He thinks it just takes A LOT to piss OO off. (*side-eyes Ruthlessness from EPIC the Musical and wrings my little gremlin hands maniacally*)

Phil isn't entirely sure of the inter-deity relationships/dynamics and leaves it at "it's none of his business." They can tell him or imply it on their own time, if ever. All he knows is that Rose/Blaze/OO strongly dislike EK and that's all that matters to him. Anything else is assumption on his part and he's just Not gonna do that.

If he didn't want to avoid being asked 9487385728 questions from his friends, he'd probably have lil altars of some sort for Rose, Blaze, OO, and Kristin to honor them. And they'd maybe have an easier time communicating with him through them.

He's been wondering if/when the other deities reach out to him on QI if they'll ever make lil domains or something the way Rose has made her Sanctuary

[shadowqueenjude]

Coriolanus kills Dr. Gaul: post-TBOSAS

Coriolanus wasn’t sure why he had named his son Sejanus, really.

Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he had named him that. As a punishment. A reminder of his worst mistake- not just the betrayal, but the lies. He had lost both Sejanus and L-

Do not say her name. Not even in your mind.

Coriolanus clenched and unclenched his fists. After all this time, it still haunted him so. It’s dangerous for an obsessive man to fall in love. She may be alive, or she may be dead, but either way she’d certainly live on in his memories.

In his dreams.

The guilt was unbearable. Much as Ma Plinth annoyed him, she was the closest thing to a mother he had had after his own died. She looked at him like he was her son, and it was like a knife to the gut every time. He had to do something to alleviate it- this pain.

Well, truly, not all the blame could fall on him. He had expected Sejanus to be taken back to the Capitol, maybe his father paid some people off, and that was it. Instead, a few days later, he was standing vigil at his execution. Dr. Gaul, the sadist. He had never forgotten the delightful glee she exuded as Clemensia had been bitten by those snakes. She did not value human life in any capacity; more than being the harbinger of violence, she relished it. Gloried in it. Had been ready to sacrifice his life for the sake of her twisted games.

She had to die. Coriolanus had long desired to end her life, and now, when all others would be preoccupied with the Hunger Games celebrations, would be the perfect time to carry out his plan.

He almost laughed at the position he found himself in. While several sweet maids prepared him for the ball tonight, his mind was plotting murder. He wondered how little they knew about the man they served; he wondered how little they knew about human nature itself.

He admired himself in the mirror. He wore a cobalt trenchcoat over a pale gold button-up and pants. His hair was beginning to curl at the ends again, and Coriolanus made a note to get them fixed later. Those curls were a sign of his youth; they brought back memories he’d rather not revisit anymore than he had to. Torturous sad and wet dreams in the night were bad enough.

He smoothed down a small crease on his shirt and gave a practiced smile. “You’ve outdone yourself ladies,” he said smoothly, and all three ladies preened. He didn’t mention their comical feathers and outlandish makeup that made them look like clowns. Best to keep those close to you on your side.

The first party hosted for the victors. All part of the show; it disgusted him really, that the people were so immune to it. He would never be immune to the deaths of others. He counted every life that had been lost in that arena, and though he deemed it a necessary evil to prevent more deaths, he’d begun counting their lost lives as part of his kill count.

Hundreds of deaths had come at his hands. And there would be hundreds more.

Innocent children. But at least he would be doing some good. At least he would be freeing Panem from Dr. Gaul’s brand of torment. What a terrible waste this ceremony was. Coriolanus couldn’t stop it, couldn’t repress that desperate part of him that still lived in the post-war times when there was nothing to eat but cabbage stew. To see the way the Capitol citizens flaunted their wealth…he wished to give them all a good punch straight to the teeth.

Coriolanus gave his ridiculous speech, being sure to use the words “honor” and “celebration” and “delight” and “victory” a thousand times to get it to sink in. He met the victor, a big burly male who reminded him of Reaper, which reminded him of the tenth hunger games, which reminded him of its victor-

For fuck’s sake. Coriolanus flexed his hands again. Just a little while longer he had to stay here before he could retreat to his chambers. Just another hour or so of entertaining these sycophantic fools who saw him as their social climbing ladder or worse, a pretty object to lay with. He drank one glass of wine, willing his face to go expressionless as women pawed at him, unbuttoning his shirt. He said calmly, “I’m not interested, ladies. I’m still mourning my wife, I’m afraid.” Lies. He had murdered his wife in cold blood four years ago. He had despised that bitch. The only good thing she had given him was his lovely son, who was currently being looked after by nannies. He didn’t want to overwhelm him with huge crowds yet. The woman murmured in disappointment, but they were only replaced by more. He hated how raunchy these parties got, hated that they expected him to join in the festivities. No, he would never touch them. There was only one person he’d willingly partake in such actions with, and she had scattered to the trees. Unable to bear it, Coriolanus left the party a lot earlier than he’d intended. He walked away from the main hall, seeking the men’s bathroom. He heaved into the sink, the memories flooding him. Lucy Gray’s smile, Lucy Gray’s laugh, Lucy Gray playing the guitar, Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray-

“Coryo,” a soft voice called. Coryo whipped his head around wildly. He could’ve sworn he heard Lucy Gray’s voice. But…no. He must have been going crazy.

He walked back to his room, feeling like there was a heavy weight on his body. The tears fell down his face, and Coryo didn’t bother to stop them. Most days he could get by without thinking of her, but on the days that it hit hard, he became absolutely miserable, and he could not focus for the rest of the day. He had to do something. Nothing like bloody murder to get your lost love out of your mind.

This one would be for her. His Lucy Gray, who Dr. Gaul had taken from him.

Were it not for Dr. Gaul, Sejanus wouldn’t be dead. If he hadn’t died, Coryo wouldn’t have lied to Lucy Gray. If Coryo hadn’t lied to Lucy Gray, she wouldn’t have run into the forest.

Flex. Unflex. Coryo took a deep breath, trying not to think of her earthy smell and warm smile, but he could sense it so clearly in his mind it was like she was there.

What method would he use to kill Dr. Gaul? How poetic would it be if he killed her with her own mutts? But he was sure she had gone to great lengths to ensure that they wouldn’t harm her.

But how sure could she be, really? They were animals, right? Once you took them out of their controlled setting, all bets were off. So, Coriolanus armed himself with his old Peacekeeper rifle. He sometimes kept it on him, for nostalgic purposes. Part of him believed nostalgia was only fit for a fool, but it didn’t hurt that the gun still worked.

He walked down to the labs located in the basement of this very building. Found Dr. Gaul tinkering with something, even this late at night. Twisted psychopath. “Ah, Coriolanus! Don’t you have a lovely party to be at?”

Coriolanus gestured down at himself, his hair mussed up, the top of his chest peaking out, the belt of his pants loosened. “Doesn’t it appear as if I have partied enough?”

Dr. Gaul let out a chuckle. “All those ladies jumping on you as soon as they get a chance, You must power through, and remember all this is part of the…” Coryo smirked. “Dance. All part of the dance.” A dance that would end tonight. Dr. Gaul clapped her hands delightedly. “Come, look at these lovely new mutts I am working with.”

Coriolanus looked over at them, pretending to be interested. In reality, they looked quite foul, with their mottled green skin and a forked tongue resembling that of a snake’s, only much longer. “Are those…chameleons?” Coriolanus asked with forced calm. In reality, the mere thought of these animals made him sick. This was the Capitol; such wild creatures shouldn’t exist in a civilized place.

“Partially,” Dr. Gaul said. That manic smile was on her face again. “Part chameleon, part snake, part my artwork. I call them chamelonakes.” Dumb name, Coriolanus internally scoffed. “They are venomous, can camouflage themselves, and their leaping capacity is much improved. They trust me, of course, but all others, they are trained to kill.” Coriolanus swallowed. “How do you? You know. Get them to trust you.” Dr. Gaul looked at him incredulously. “Why, the same way you’d get any human to trust you. By getting to know them.”

Hmph. Well, he didn’t have time for that. What if he went for a different strategy? He always kept a vial of poison on him ever since he’d killed Livia Cardew. You never knew when you would need to poison someone. While Dr. Gaul was busy cooing over some creatures, Coriolanus slipped poison into the food labeled for them. “Really? It’s that simple? They look very…dangerous.” Dr. Gaul simply laughed. “I thought you would’ve learned by now, Coriolanus, that animals are easily baited by food and basic necessities. Allow me to demonstrate.” She grabbed the food and stuck her hand into the cage with her bare hands. Coriolanus wondered if the creatures would even sense the poison, or if the poison he had used would even be poisonous to them.

He got his answer moments later as no less than three chamelonakes crunched down onto Dr. Gaul’s arm. Coriolanus wasn’t a vicious person, but he had to admit, some savage part of him reveled in Dr. Gaul’s scream, even as he backed several paces away.

“How does it feel?” Coriolanus asked. “To be bit by a venomous snake.” Dr. Gaul blinked. “What did you do?”

Coriolanus shrugged. “Nothing anyone will ever figure out. Just like they never figured out what happened to Clemensia.” He sneered at her. “You thought you were untouchable, indestructible, did you? So unbelievably arrogant; that was your demise.” The chamelonakes continued to crowd around the scientist, inspecting her suspiciously.

“I made you,” Dr. Gaul hissed. “Without me, you would be nothing.”

Coriolanus laughed mirthlessly. “No, you almost got me killed multiple times. You lost me my best friend and my girlfriend. You’re out of control; you relish violence, you sadistic witch. What Panem needs is control, not war. But you would be perfectly happy with another war, wouldn’t you, Dr. Gaul? More bloodshed for you, more dummies to experiment with. No longer. I always had it in me to be President; don’t fancy yourself some great guardian, Dr. Gaul. I will ensure your name is erased from history.”

“Without me, you’d still be rotting in District 12,” she spat.

Coriolanus only smiled. “You’re just angry because I’m better than you are now. Goodbye, heathen. No one will miss you. I’ve won.”

And just as he did after Livia had died before him, he said quietly, “Snow lands on top. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Dr. Gaul’s eyes widened before the light left them.

Coriolanus left her there. Some guards would find her in a few minutes, dead. They’d assume her mutts had killed her at last, and they’d be correct. No one would ever realize the role he had played in making it happen.

Snow lands on top.

[acepalindrome]

Thinking about a young Izzy who loved to sing, but there’s no place for singing when you’re a cabin boy trying to survive on a pirate ship. Sea shanties might be alright, maybe, but not the beautiful love songs he learned at his mother’s knee. This isn’t a place for softness, for tenderness. So he stuffed that part of himself down. Learns to be harder and meaner.

And then he meets young Ed Teach, who’s grown up learning that he’s not the kind of person who can have silk and fine things, running away after killing his father. He’s learned to be hard and mean too. And they click. They work well together. But they just keep encouraging the other to shove down the soft parts of themselves, because how else can you keep yourself safe out here? If Ed sometimes looks longingly at a beautiful fabric, if he wakes up crying from the nightmare about his dad, if Izzy gets caught humming so very quietly while he works, if he gets a little misty when someone’s playing a sad old love song at the bar…they’ll both pretend not to notice. No place for that here, for men like them.

And so it goes, for years and years. The partnership turns into love that neither of them can voice, can’t express beyond an occasional tumble in the sheets, beyond Izzy’s devotion and Ed doing whatever he has to so his first mate doesn’t leave. It’s not happiness, but neither of them can let it go. And there are no fine fabrics or love songs on the Queen Anne’s Revenge.

Then Stede Bonnet happens, and everything gets turned on it’s head. This absurd, ridiculous man is embracing all the soft, tender things they denied themselves all their lives. And Ed starts to realize that maybe he can have these things too.

But not Izzy. He sees this fool with his books and marmalade and fancy clothes, who’s just bizarre enough to capture Ed’s attention. It won’t last. This still just be another of Edward’s little flights of fancy. It’ll be over soon.

Except it doesn’t end. Except Ed just keeps getting softer, more vulnerable. He’s throwing away the safety of being the most terrifying pirate on the seas, and for what? An idiot rich man playing at being pirates?

Ed’s wrong, of course. He’s getting too swept up in this little fantasy. So it falls to Izzy to end it, for both their sakes.

And he fails. So he tries again, more desperate the ever, seeing the man he’s loved for decades slipping away. And he fails again, but Bonnet ends up leaving anyway. The problem has solved itself, and things can finally go back to normal.

But everything is changed. Ed is wrapped up in silks, eating marmalade, singing. It’s a slap in the face to Izzy, and he snaps worse than he has in years.

And everything goes wrong.

By the time the storm breaks and the nightmare ends, Izzy has lost a leg and the man he loved for most of his life. He’s broken. He’s weak. He’s cried in front of the whole fucking crew, for fucks sake. He can’t do his job anymore, so what good is he? He’s going to die alone. That’s how this goes.

And instead, the crew gives him a new leg. They took the time to paint it gold. They wrote him a note, called him their new unicorn. It’s a lot of soft, fanciful nonsense that would has no place on a proper pirate ship, and it makes Izzy cry.

Maybe it’s alright for him to be soft too.

He starts to open up, bit by bit. He lets people care for him. He lets himself indulge in the tender things he denied himself all his life, and instead of being met with scorn and mockery, he’s supported and encouraged.

Until, after so many years, he allows himself to sing one of the beautiful love songs he’s always adored for the whole crew, his family, to hear.

[mariamakeslemons]

Chapter 2 (Peed on a Leprechaun's Corpse)

I warned @ghouljams that I would use this death (don't know if Tumblr ate that particular ask, but...), however I didn't think I'd use it so soon...

TW: mildly graphic description of gore, a very bad attempt at an Irish accent, absolute Loser behavior from König

Gaz returned to your shop, only to hide immediately. He peeks out from around the shelf filled with tarot cards and pendulums, watching at the giant bastard they’re trying to keep dead looms over you.

“Come now, Liebling,” the man pleads, “Just agree to be mine.”

“I told you already,” you huff, your back to König as you reorganize the products that you keep behind the register, “I’m not going to marry anyone until I meet my soulmate and find out if it’s romantic or platonic.”

“But you were so keen to flirt with the… ah… das Arschloch,” he says, obviously forgetting the English word. You immediately spin around, snarling at the man.

“You don’t fucking call him that,” you snap. The black phoenix behind you caws and flaps his wings behind you angrily. König shrinks back at your reaction, whining pathetically before you huff and point at the door.

“Leave. Just go,” you order. Gaz watches as the giant of a man slinks out the door, barely hiding in time for the behemoth to trudge past. He waits until he’s sure the big bastard’s gone before peeking out in a purposeful manner.

“Is he gone?” Gaz asks, pitching his voice into a child-like register. The startled laugh you give him is more than worth making a fool of himself. Grinning, he stands up and strides over to the register, watching as you fight with your giggles and your pretty bird shimmies happily at his arrival.

“How have you been this day?” Gaz asks, scratching at the phoenix’s neck while watching you try to regain control of your giggles. You smile at him, blinking your pretty eyes at him.

“Outside of that guy’s visit, slow but nice,” you answer. Gaz grins at you in return. Honestly, while he’s annoyed at this particular mission, he’s not upset about meeting you. Hell, he doesn’t know how he feels about the thought of possibly never meeting you.

“So, how can I—Hello!” you cut yourself off, chirping your greeting to whoever came in the door. Gaz turns and feels his stomach drop as his Captain, Lieutenant, and fellow Sargeant step into the shop. Price offers you a polite smile as Soap perks up.

“Yer a bonnie, ain’t ye,” Soap chirps, swaggering up to your register. You blink in confusion, your polite smile straining in confusion.

“Excuse me, whaaaaaaaaat?” you draw out, blinking rapidly. Ghost snorts, pausing to look at the preserved skulls lining one of your shelves in interest instead of stopping his boyfriend’s flirting.

“Sorry, ‘bout this, Love,” Price cuts off his Sargeant, “We jus’ needed some clarification.”

“About what?” you ask, turning your attention to the Captain. Gaz slides up beside Soap and smacks the idiot on the back of the head.

“What the hell?” Gaz hisses, “You’re boy’s right there.”

“So?” Soap whispers back, “Wanna ken ‘f they’re good ‘nough fer ye.” Gaz blinks at his fellow Sargeant, touched at the honest look in the Scot’s eye.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you yell, startling the taskforce as you drop your head in your hands.

“Aye!” a tiny man squeaks with a nod, who appeared out of who knows where, standing on your counter. The little man is wearing a bloody green suit with gold accents. He’s cleaning off his shoe with a handkerchief, “Yoor Bonded pissed on me body. So, I’s be needin’ compensation.”

“Sir,” you intone, your expression completely done with this conversation, “He’s not my Bonded, he’s Bound to me.” The Leprechaun snaps his head up, a frown marring his face, before dawning horror crosses his face.

“Oh, fook! I’s is terribly sorry, I’s is!” the Leprechaun apologizes, “Do ye’s know where I’s can get compensation for me body?”

“I think I know where one of his safe houses is,” you admit hesitantly. Gaz shares a look of confusion with Price as you stumble through giving directions to what you think is one of König’s safe houses.

“There seems to be more than we understand going on,” the Captain mumbles.

“Yeah,” Gaz agrees, “I think it’s somethin’ t’ do with intention? My Gran mentioned it a few times, but I always thought it was a load of tosh.” You wrap up the conversation with the Leprechaun, who bows and vanishes in a burst of smoke and glitter. Ghost is the one who steps forward, looming over you.

“So, there’s a difference ‘tween Bond and Bound?” Ghost asks. You hum before making a noncommittal answer.

“Words are important to Leprechauns and their ilk,” you explain, “It was more for clearing up what can’t be easily shown with an understanding of magic.”

“How so?” Price asks, stepping around Ghost to lean on the counter. Your phoenix flies over and practically rubs against Price, begging for scratches.

“Ogun, you whore,” you scold jokingly, getting a huffy squawk from the bird before turning back to the Captain, “A one-way Bond is toxic, with only the slightest of protections on the one that is Bonded against the one who Bonds. König can’t physically hurt me, but he has every right to call on me to revive him and I have to revive him. He can’t fight anyone in my shop, but he can call upon me to curse or poison someone and I have to. It’s a need instead of a want or an exchange.”

“‘N’ that’s what you have,” Ghost states, getting a nod in answer. Gaz watches as you stop and tilt your head, a frown on your face.

“Speaking of which,” you huff, “I need to go revive a whiny bitch.” There’s a pause before you snap, “Yes, you are!”

“I take it that his spirit is here?” Price asks.

“Unfortunately,” you groan, grabbing a jacket and moving from around the desk, “Feel free to stay here. Ogun can watch the place and I know you gentlemen won’t leave until I give you all the information you want at this time.”

“Yer jus’ walkin’ oot th’ store?” Soap asks in confusion.

“The man is literally in the next alley over,” you explain with a tired sigh, “I’ll be right back.” You flip the sign to your store to ‘closed’ and walk out. The team stands there awkwardly as Ogun, the phoenix’s name apparently, flies over to Ghost and lands on his shoulder.

“…Wut you lookin’ at?” Ghost asks, snorting when the bird lets out a little song and shimmies back and forth on his shoulder.

“Looks like he’s dancin’,” Price comments, a smirk curling his mouth as the phoenix lets out another trill and turns, doing the cool fire thing on his tail again. Ghost flinches away a little when the multi-colored flames blaze on his tail, before he seems to relax as the flames are shrunk a little.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap breathes, taking a hesitant step forward. Ogun flares his tail out, almost offering a feather to Soap. He shares a look with Gaz and Price, none of them knowing what to do. The only one with any experience of non-hostile magic animals is Ghost, and he seems fine just standing with the phoenix on his shoulder.

Suddenly, Ogun snaps his tail back and turns his head to the door. You come back with an annoyed look on your face, storming in while making sure to lock the door behind you. Ogun trills and flies over to your shoulder as König presses his hands and face against the glass door pathetically.

“What’s his deal?” Gaz asks as you step back behind the counter, only for all four of them to jump when you drop your head on the desk with a thud.

“…ow,” you intone, sounding tired. Ogun lands beside you and drapes himself over your head. You sigh under his wing, softly saying, “Thank you, Oggie.” Gaz frowns at how done you sound, laying his own head on the counter to make eye contact with you.

“You okay, Love?” he asks.

“It was his dick,” you say. The dead silence that descends upon the store is deafening. None of the men know what you’re talking about, or why you’re tired, or why the Austrian is whining pathetically at your door.

“Wot,” Ghost deadpans when they realize you were not going to elaborate. You gently coax Ogun off your head and look up at them, heavy bags under your eyes.

“The Leprechaun. Revived. From. His dick,” you grit out. Immediately, the four of them turn their heads and look blatantly at König’s crotch area. The Austrian stops whining upon seeing them looking at him, before covering his crotch and scurrying away. Gaz looks back at you incredulously, when you eventually continue, “It looked like one of those cartoon guns after being blocked, ya’ know? Like a banana peel, but starting at his dick and going through his pelvis. Fuck, that little bastard did not deserve compensation.” Ogun coos again, snuggling against you.

“I… I don’t like that description,” Gaz admits, cringing at the image that is now in his head.

“Well, I didn’t like lookin’ at it, yet here we are!” you huff, swinging out your arms. Gaz feels sympathetic of your plight with dealing with the aftermath of König’s many deaths. But, a question has been bothering him since he was last here. One that he’s not really sure you’d be comfortable with him asking it in front of his team, so instead…

“Well, as a way to make you feel better,” he cuts in, “How about I take you out? There’s a good café a few streets out with excellent tea and coffee.” You turn to blink at him in surprise, your mouth dropping open at his offer.

“I, uh, yes! YES!” you yell, jumping as if you startled yourself. The trill from Ogun reminds Gaz of laughter, which only gets you swatting at the phoenix while giving a grin at him, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Capt’n!” Soap calls out like a tattletale, “Gaz’s flirtin’ on th’ job!” Gaz spins around to take a swing at his fellow Sargeant while Price sighs and Ghost tilts his head back, probably asking for patience.

“You chose that,” Price reminds Ghost as the Sargeants start a stupid slap fight. You and Ogun share a look before deciding to wait for the pair to settle on their own before asking for more information on your potential date.